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sunderwight · 2 months

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Modern AU where Shen Yuan accidentally sugar-daddies everyone.

So for the purposes of this, Shen Yuan's family is basically $10 Bananas levels of cluelessly rich. Shen Yuan has almost never had to look at the prices of anything he wants. He and his siblings all get an allowance from the family's main account, which increases when they reach adulthood, and in the interest of fairness his parents made it all the same size. So Shen Yuan gets the same amount of money for his daily living expenses as his older brothers with their penthouse apartments and vacation homes and private jets, at least from the family account (since he doesn't work, he doesn't actually make as much as them in total because they earn more on top of their allowances).

And the thing is, Shen Yuan genuinely just lives a lot more humbly. He likes people but what would he do with a vacation house? Anything really nice would probably require him to fly to get out there, and he gets sick as hell on planes. Living in the central city is also not great for him, because the air pollution is so bad. Having a whole house to himself would also be ridiculous. So he has a reasonable apartment, in a reasonable area, and he splurges every so often on purchases that make him happy and take-out food that he likes, and of course he pays a cleaning service to come in twice a week. Most people assume he's comfortably middle class and has some tech job he does from home, but he's been getting a lot more than he's been spending in his monthly allowances for years now, and the figures are big.

Enter into this environment author Airplane and his trash novels. Novels, multiple, because in this AU there's no PIDW, and instead after some alternate PIDW prototype got popular in the harem genre, Airplane decided to churn out a series of copy-paste shorter stories rather than recycling the same subplots in one massively long epic.

Shen Yuan of course discovers Airplane's writing and becomes as obsessed with it as ever, except this time he notices that if there are delays between new stories, they seem to clear up faster whenever he throws some cash at the problem. And also that the drops in Airplane's writing quality coincide with times when Shen Yuan was having health issues and not keeping up with his VIP purchases. So, he works out that Airplane's probably doing the writing for the money, and that when Peerless Cucumber isn't paying the most for it, Airplane starts listening to the other buffoons in the comment section more to try and entice them to pay his bills instead.

Peerless Cucumber leaves a comment on one of Airplane's latest stories that kicks off the two of them actually chatting, and Shen Yuan eventually gets to the point of offering to fund all Airplane's writing, in exchange for Airplane not doing his crap sellout stuff to appeal to other readers anymore. Airplane thinks he's joking or maybe mocking him. Shen Yuan asks how much it would cost. Airplane fires off a ridiculous number. Shen Yuan doesn't even blink and wires him the first payment. Then he gets annoyed because Airplane leaves him on read for a while, but that's because Airplane is staring at his account balance in shock.

Of course, it's Airplane who starts referring to Peerless Cucumber as his sugar daddy. Shen Yuan is just like "based on your sex scenes I don't think anyone would pay you for that" and Airplane's all "but you WOULD pay for my sex scenes ^_~" and Shen Yuan's like "technically I am actually paying you not to write that shit" and so on. Usual banter. The quality of Airplane's writing improves dramatically, a lot of his readership drops off but he does get new readers and gradually builds up an even bigger fanbase than before, and so on, it all goes pretty well. He eventually writes a few things that take off to the point of getting physical publications and international translations. Technically Airplane no longer needs Shen Yuan to pay all of his bills by that point but he's not going to tell Shen Yuan that! The contract's still good as long as he keeps writing!

Then one of Airplane's online acquaintances runs into some financial trouble and asks for help.

Liu Mingyan used to beta read for Airplane back when he wrote fanfiction (she was like thirteen, Airplane was unaware because internet and hey free beta), and it seems her family has hit a rough patch. She wants tips on how to go pro, but Airplane explains that it was extremely difficult and he mostly lucked out by finding a single wealthy backer. Mingyan wonders if the same guy would be interested in her writing, Airplane sadly thinks not because Mingyan exclusively writes kinky danmei erotica and Peerless Cucumber seems pretty firmly in the closet still and also generally prefers plotty and world-building heavy stuff.

But like, Airplane has definitely gotten a vibe off of Cucumber-bro, and Mingyan's gorgeous older brother does video streams of himself doing cool martial arts and swordsmanship stuff. So he asks her permission and when she gives it, he recommends Liu Qingge's videos to Shen Yuan, being sure to mention that the guy in question can't really afford to keep up with his hobbies and oh what a shame it would be if he had to stop making art like that.

Haha, Airplane, you're not subtle.

Even so, Shen Yuan watches the videos and immediately agrees that Liu Qingge is beauty in motion, and that it would be criminal to deprive the world of more videos of his sword. Swordsmanship! That is the, the art of, martial arts! Definitely. He clicks the donate button, reasoning out that he'll just send a donation about the size of his usual monthly payments to Airplane and call it his good deed for the day.

Liu Qingge is very confused by this new follower from nowhere who suddenly dumped a little over a month's rent into his account. One thing leads to another, with Mingyan and Airplane conspiring to try and get Shen Yuan as a permanent patron, and then Liu Qingge being let in on it. Except that Airplane keeps referring to Shen Yuan as his sugar daddy, and well... it's not like Liu Qingge doesn't ever get 'those' kinds of comments on his videos. At first he's embarrassed, then offended, then mortified that his own younger sister is apparently setting him up to make premium private videos for what he assumes is some old pervert who is going to want him to do untoward things.

However, their options are pretty bleak at the moment, and Liu Qingge worries that if he doesn't do this then Mingyan might. She even mentions something to the effect of having planned to offer herself, and only didn't because she wasn't this "sugar daddy" guy's type!

Teeth clenched, Liu Qingge asks Airplane stiltedly for advice on how to... appeal, to this wealthy benefactor.

In the end though it's not nearly as bad as Liu Qingge feared. He winds up doing more videos in costumes and cosplay, which ought to have been an untenable expense, but Peerless Cucumber always ends up covering the cost of whatever he invests in plus extra. Sometimes he sends Liu Qingge stuff with a request to wear it, but so far it's just been like, badass warrior-themed or historical costumes. Nothing overtly pervy. He does some LARPing, he makes enough to start doing horseback archery again, convinces some of his good-looking peers from various clubs to spar with him, and ultimately the most risque videos he ends up doing are the ones where he demonstrates how to put on certain kinds of gear. He still locks those ones behind paid subscribers only, mostly because he feels like he's doing something illicit now, even if he used to show more skin on his older videos any time he took his shirt off.

Peerless Cucumber doesn't leave creepy comments, either. In fact he seems genuinely nice and supportive, it's hard not to like him, and so even once his situation levels out Liu Qingge decides there's not really much need to stop making videos for him. (He maybe even gets a little giddy thrill over... well, sometimes he finds it all a bit... just when he thinks about Peerless Cucumber watching him demonstrate his physical prowess and finding that alone worth... ANYWAY--)

So that goes on for a while, before Yue Qi enters the scene.

Yue Qi is the childhood friend of one of Shen Yuan's older brothers (Shen bros!) and Shen Jiu owes him a big favor for something that he won't talk about. At least he won't talk to Shen Yuan about it. But Yue Qi is also not the type to ask for help, and Shen Jiu is very bad at offering it, so when Shen Jiu gets word that Yue Qi is having some difficulties making ends meet, he tells Shen Yuan to act as the middle man. Go offer Qi-ge money, he knows you're nice he'll just accept it, and then Shen Jiu will pay the actual bill.

Well it turns out that Yue Qi doesn't just accept it, of course he sees right through it, and gently but firmly tells Shen Yuan that he's not interested in burdening Shen Jiu further than he already has. Etc, etc, stoic stiff upper lips and no proper communication all around. Shen Yuan panics because it's not working and he's also genuinely worried about Yue Qi by now, so he tries to figure out how to make it compelling and basically blurts that, well, see, the thing is that sometimes he pays men to entertain him. You know. To like. Do things, for him. So. He could also pay Yue Qi? To do something for him?

Yue Qi gets the wrong idea entirely, and at first is like, oh, no, A'Yuan, you shouldn't be paying people for that! These things should just happen organically! But Shen Yuan is very adamant that he believes in compensating people for what they do for him, it's not like he can't afford to, and it gets awkward but Yue Qi is like well he does have health problems. It's perhaps difficult for him to meet people. So then he starts worrying about Shen Yuan and all these strange men he's apparently paying for "entertainment". Does his brother know about this?

No of course Shen Jiu doesn't know! He'd hate it, and Shen Yuan doesn't want to hear about how he's doing everything wrong with his life again!

Then Shen Yuan mentions that his prior house cleaning service up and quit on him (they didn't), and if Yue Qi would like to earn fair compensation he could just come over sometimes to help instead, and Shen Yuan would pay him just to tidy up and hang out for a few hours! Which Yue Qi thinks is a fantastic idea, actually, even if Shen Yuan is only doing this because of his brother, this will give Yue Qi a chance to keep an eye on him and his so-called entertainers. Even if he sort of... ends up also being one?

Shen Yuan keeps everything above board, though his apartment always seems perfectly clean and he overpays way too much (Shen Jiu is still footing this bill after all), and Yue Qi starts to think maybe he actually is being paid for intimacy. Of a sort that they're maybe still working up to? Shen Yuan usually has a very thin face after all. He's kind of got two minds about this prospect. On the one hand, he's got his situationship with Shen Jiu, so dating his brother would be absurd. But on the other hand, it's not actually dating, and he does like Shen Yuan, and maybe if they can be good company for each other then Yue Qi won't feel so depressed and Shen Yuan won't need to hire strange men so often.

Meanwhile it's come to Shen Yuan's attention, perhaps through an offhand comment he read online somewhere, that people who are struggling financially often also struggle to "treat themselves". Because even when they have enough money to be comfortable there's often the looming specter of deprivation, and etc, so he figures he should start buying some of his dependents more treats and things. Since they might not buy them for themselves? And also he's enjoying doing this but shhh no he isn't, it's a huge hassle, he's only doing it out of basic moral decency, etc.

So like, Airplane starts getting little things that he'd put on some public wish lists, clearly sent by Peerless Cucumber. And he tells Mingyan to make a list for Liu Qingge too, and sure enough, Liu Qingge (bewildered, slightly flustered) tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with an album from a band he likes and some high-end leather polish. Ultimately settles on playing the music and wearing his nicest leather in his next video. Yue Qi starts arriving at Shen Yuan's place to be plied with his favorite coffees and to have scented candles awkwardly foisted onto him (Shen Yuan does not know what Yue Qi likes in gifts) (he buys these presents himself they're not out of Shen Jiu's pocket).

So finally Shen Yuan's parents start to notice that he's been spending a lot more than usual, and start to worry that he's either been taken in by a scam artist or is secretly dating a gold digger or has developed a drug addiction or something. But asking things directly like normal people is basically illegal in the Shen family, so they decide to hire a private investigator.

Enter Luo Binghe, a young man of humble background who is struggling to make ends meet after the untimely death of his adoptive mother, and is using his P.I. job and his online cooking videos to help pay his way through school (scholarship student). Usually his cases are more like, cyberstalking someone to find out if they're cheating on their spouse, or helping someone planning a lawsuit accumulate evidence on their corrupt employer, or other things like that. When he gets the Shen Yuan case, the idea that the Shen family's son is paying for "company" is well within his list of probable answers.

Though this one is a little... peculiar?

Mostly because Binghe can't find evidence of Shen Yuan actually getting what he would, presumably, be paying for. At first Luo Binghe just goes through the online paper trails, using the info that the Shen parents give him to figure out that Shen Yuan is paying Airplane and Swordmaster Liu (*cough*) what seem to be exorbitant prices just for trashy fiction and cosplay videos. He assumes this is a cover, that someone's actually delivering drugs or going over for "private meetings" or at least actually sending dirty videos as well, but even when he pays for Liu Qingge's VIP access it's just tutorials and such. Neither of these guys are even on any of the sites that are more lenient towards hosting explicit content. Luo Binghe's aware that kinks aren't always obviously sexual, but people don't usually pay through the nose for the kind of content they can easily find for free all over the place, either.

He digs a little more but keeps coming up empty on evidence to clarify which of the many vices the Shen family's son is actually indulging in. Which is a problem because that's the information they're paying him to find out. Plus his curiosity kind of piques as he reads Shen Yuan's seemingly quite invested comments on Airplane's writing and Liu Qingge's videos, looking to see if there's any kind of clandestine code or pattern. But near as he can tell, whatever else Shen Yuan might be getting out of these arrangements, he does genuinely like the stories and videos too? Well. Sometimes. Sometimes he's actually scathingly vitriolic towards Airplane's writing.

Luo Binghe decides that surveilling Shen Yuan himself is probably the way to go. That gets more complicated in court cases, but since the Shen parents just wants to know what's going on and aren't planning on prosecuting their son for anything, it doesn't matter as much if Luo Binghe gets information in sneaky or underhanded ways.

So, Binghe uses the account he created to access Liu Qingge's videos to chat with Shen Yuan a few times, and then recommends his own cooking channel. Shen Yuan doesn't seem too interested in cooking, so Luo Binghe makes sure to include a video that has an image of himself in his recommendation, and then films a few new videos of himself cooking with his shirtsleeves rolled up to three quarters and a few more buttons than usual unbuttoned, adopting a more flirty persona than he typically does for his shows. He takes his cues from some of Liu Qingge's more popular videos for how to be enticing bait.

It takes a few videos, but eventually Shen Yuan comments. Luo Binghe latches onto the chance to start talking to him, playing up a persona of a vulnerable young man with little means who is trying hard to make it through school, etc, and sure enough Shen Yuan seems interested. Well, most predatory people like vulnerable targets, don't they?

However... Shen Yuan just sends him a chunk of money.

Luo Binghe is confused.

Isn't he supposed to ask for something or create some kind of expectation of repayment first? But, maybe this is his approach to handling new targets. Maybe he's just trying to lull Binghe into a false sense of complacency, before he starts indicating what he wants from all of this. Luo Binghe makes sure to move the money Shen Yuan sends him into a separate account, so that if the Shen parents get angry about it then he can return it as a gesture of good faith.

But Shen Yuan just keeps sending supportive comments and donations. Eventually he leaves a comment that alludes to how badly he'd like to taste Binghe's cooking, and Binghe is like finally, but when he implies that they could perhaps meet in person and Luo Binghe could thank him for his support by making him something, Shen Yuan backs off.

Things eventually progress to the point where Luo Binghe, who is a totally normal person treating this like a totally normal job still thank you very much, is basically camping out in the bushes in front of Shen Yuan's apartment building. At some point he conscripts the aid of his weird cousin (finding his birth family was how he got into this business initially), and then almost immediately regrets it because Shen Yuan helps get Zhuzhi Lang a job doing landscaping for his building.

Why would he want Zhuzhi Lang close but not Binghe? Binghe is much handsomer! He'd make an excellent target for seduction! >:(

Anyway eventually Yue Qi catches Luo Binghe lurking around like a creeper and is like, finally, I have caught one of these suspicious men, whilst Binghe is like oh so he does have a lover, well this guy sucks and is clearly not good enough for him, and they both try and chase one another off and Shen Yuan comes home to a heated passive-aggressive-politeness war being waged in front of his apartment. Eventually he realizes the misunderstanding and calls everyone together (zoom conference? in-person meet-up?) to clarify that he is not paying any of them for "special favors", that was just Airplane being deranged about his sense of humor, and then he has no idea what to do when the prevailing response seems to be disappointment.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #shen yuan #bingqiu #cumplane #liushen #do shen yuan and yue qingyuan have a ship name?#idk #scum villain #shen yuan: fandom bicycle #lbh eventually comes clean about being hired by sy's parents #sy doesn't blame him he just sighs about his unhinged family

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thetravelingtyper · 6 months

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Our Shattered Heart (Part 1) (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

After an injury and recovery, the men of the force find themselves acting a little differently towards you.

Inspired by the Smiths and Cage the Elephant.

Warnings: a building falls, use of song lyrics, protective 141

Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Masterlist

SO I POPPED OFF at like 1 am with three shots of brandy lmao

The strings of a bass echoed into the open night. Electric steps, iron bridges, the river. Central town spinning away into the flurry of the night. You were running from phantoms, what had you done but cried into the night? Your phone long since turned off you were afraid to return to the safe house. Made up as a civilian you blend smoothly in, but the oppressive nature of their stares made your eyes water so you took your chance and bailed.

Even in your distress, you admired London proper. You wipe your tears and stop your swift walk. You could hear music? There was a well-lit area a dozen or so yards, (Metric Sergaent) You frown as your Lieutenant’s voice echos in your head naturally. You grit your teeth. Nothing you did was right. In training he’d catch every little mistake, poking out your weaknesses without telling you how to better your stance.

What of Soap and Gaz? Your fellow Sargents and supposed friends. One moment they had your back then after your injury they joined Ghost. Soap would pull you aside and scold you for using your ‘bad leg’ or your hits were too low or high. Gaz just commented after you healed up against you even serving. It took three weeks for you to have enough.

You turn on your phone to check the time, and it rings with a skull icon, you answer it as you can pick up the music.

“Fucking hell Sergeant where are you.”

“Doesn't matter Ghost, Fuck off”.

“Wait, Lo-”

You hang out and toss your phone into the river. You smirk, a sense of relief flooding your tense body. What had your valiant captain done about your concerns? Immediate relocation to a safe house for surveillance, with said team. Nothing of “I’ll talk with Simon” No you got the “You could be a liability so let us have three grown-ass men babysit you in the middle of the city.” You went to protest but he shushed you with a disappointed look that made you reel back.

You weren't British, maybe you didn't meet his standards. He's the one who requested an outside operative all those months ago. You performed top of your class and threw your body and heart into the job working your way into being the face of the team. It was you whom they sent to comfort those who lost loved ones as collateral. Everything changed when you broke orders to save a child.

“Heart, Ghost, Soap Clear Out Now! That is a direct order!”

The building rumbled and air support had’nt arrived. You had about a minute until the whole place collapsed.

“Affirmiative, Sergeants move out!”

Ghost ushered you in front of him and Soap was already running through the dust to get out. But as you turned to run you caught movement.

“Ghost there is someone in there!” You try to trace the movement but Ghosts gloved hand yanked you back as he started towards the entrance.

“No Heart-”

You gasped, there was a girl pinned under rumble! Your instincts take over and you shove out of his gasp with more strength then you ever though you could muster, Ghost stumbles and you book it back as he yells after you.

“GHOST, HEART OUT NOW THE BUILDING IS COMING DOWN!”

He had no choice but to leave you as you threw yourself over the girl. There was a loud rumble then black.

You huff, odviously you had survived and the little girl you pulled out from the rubble survived as well. After the dust cleared the next day, you had lugged a beam off her and you and hobbled her out to seek medical attention. Once the mission had finished Price and the others had rushed back to find empty rubble, it was a joyous mother who led the foreigners back to their Heart. And there you were, in some small village a hero treated to the best they could. All you could offer despite the pain of your leg was a small smile towards to girl who clung to you like a baby.

Soap had about given out before he rushed you with curses, poking and prodding like a mother hen. Gaz laughed, a wholehearted sound like melted caramel and quipped about surviving the sky falling. It was Price and Ghost who were not too keen, but you had a back up. The leaders of the village, who’s daughter and grandaughter you had saved, had what turned out to be excellent intel that you handed to Price with a smirk on your face.

“Fucking Hell.” Was all you gotten from Ghost and his head in his hands with a deep sigh.

What you didn't realize was how big of a deal it was to the Captain and Ghost. Once you got back to base and were put on a 3 month leave was when things soured. You were able to use connections in the village to work intel, something Laswell was grateful for, But Ghost took this personally, giving you almost a disapproving sneer when he would see you out of bed. Price was silent. No yelling, no scolding just silent. Some storm brewed and once you fully healed and went back to training it seemed Ghost tainted Soap. The Scot became overbearing, making less hurtful comments. A Gaz, once level headed, turned into Price’s little shadow, you could tell from their glances they were communicating.

After three weeks of being stationed with them, fully healed mind you, you had enough of walking on egg shells, being the subject of Ghost’s anger and Gaz’s twists and turns. You didn’t snap until Soap had risen his voice after your pacing.

“ENOUGH HEART.”

It caught Ghost and Gaz off guard in the small apartment as you turned wide-eyed. His eyes were stormy, set off by something you couldn’t identify.

“Johnny-”

“No LT. They need to learn their place”

Your hackles rose, you tried to calm the rage, how dare he?

“And whats that MacTavish? You four have been acting like I’ve been a virus since the day I came back! I worked my ass off to help you and this is how you asses repay me? Im not a fucking toddler you can drag around.”

Gaz went to speak but the glare you shoot him is venemous,

“No you don’t get say anything Kyle. You’ll just go running back to Price and prolong this little ‘vacation’ Im sick of being treated like a child.”

“Sergeant”

“Oh rich from you LT” You feel your nerves bristle as Ghost steps forward in challenge. Despite him towering over you, you bite back

“You can take your Sergeant and Stuff it. You have acted like an asshole through these past 4 months and I’m sick of it! You three are grown ass men acting like children. Run back to Price and bully someone else I'm sick of this shit.”

And with that you grabbed your bag and stormed off, disappearing into streets of London the three men stunned at your outburst.

---

You enter the lit area to find a band and civilians listening to, was that the Smith’s? You relax to the familiar music. The main singer is a handsome man, dark eyes raking the crown with a calm smile before you lock eyes and he winks. Unexpecting, you blush and turn into the crowd. He begins to sing with a voice of silver and honey.

Take me out tonight

Where there's music and there's people

And they're young and alive

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one

Anymore

There is a little irony as you take a seat at the bar. Over the past two years, before your four odd months the taskforce had become home to you. You settled in quite fine, either bickering along side Soap, joining with Ghost or helping Price and Gaz with their reports. Seeing your personal skills Laswell insisted on you staying.

She smiles when you enter in under the arms of Gaz and Soap.

“Hey kid, good to see you.

You nod at here before Price enters, he passes you three a look before ushering the three of you out of the office.

“Come on you two, the parents gotta meet now.”

You giggle as Price rolls his eye as you turn you catch a knowing look from Laswell to Price and as you head out the door, but being dragged to lunch, you miss the fond look he shoots you.

You order a bourbon neat, as you take a sip the chill of the night hits a little deeper and you frown behind your glass watching couples get up to dance. You remember that mission with a fond sigh, the bourbon reminding you of your tall and often mysterious Lieutenant.

Take me out tonight

Because I want to see people

And I want to see life

Driving in your car

Oh, please don't drop me home

Because it's not my home, it's their home

And I'm welcome no more

You tilt your head down, that mission oh. Something in your chest ached.

You entered the room in a shuffle, the trails of your outfit not what you were used to, but a mission like this called for finery. You stumble but pale hand’s catch your arm and tucks it in under his. You turn to the perpetrator but find dark eyes quietly regarding yours and you jump.

“Ghost!”

“Call me Simon at this point Heart”

You manage a quiet yes sir. He watches you with softer eyes before there is laughing down the hallway.

“He’s a lucky bastard is what he is, getting to take Heart all dolled up.”

Johnny’s voice has your eyes rolling. After a few months of your service the Scot had accepted you with open arms, and the flirting, my god the pick up lines. You sigh fondly into your drink.

“I mean you could just ask them-Lt! You’re early.”

Simon doesn’t offer more then a raised brow as he and Soap meet eyes and Soap turns away.

“Kyle please can you help me with this,” You lift the tails of your outfit in a huff.

The man chuckles and nods, it was his idea anyway. His dark eyes meet yours with soft smile that makes you swoon. He offer you a hand and you go to take it but find resistance.

“Simon?”

“Hurry Love. We ship out in 10.” And with that he lets you go. Kyle’s hand is warm and rough and he twirls you to adjust the back of your outfit. Soap turns to Simon,

“The mask?”

And to your surprise, Simon looks to you and nods before slowly removing the balaclava. Soap and Gaz seemed unfazed but you were surprised. A year in you had yet to see more then his lips from a smoke or a drink, but the soft blond hair and scars found you staring at him. He watches you but when you meet his eyes you give him a soft encouraging smile. And his lips quirk up as Soap fusses with his mic and collar. Simon just grumbles at him and you laugh, a chiming sound that has all the men smiling.

You peer back through the crowd, how long had it been since you’d been out? You tip back the the rest of your bourbon and set the glass down feeling the sting. Fuck it. You drop your back and relax into the seat, the singer’s eyes meeting your with a smile as he continues to sing. You sway in your seat to the music.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

You and Soap tumble together, hitting the ground before rolling. The impact steals the breath from your lungs as you grasp at him making sure he was alive.

“Never though i’d get ye like this Heart.”

You sigh, he was fine, despite just saving his ass. He rolls over so his weight isn’t on you more then it needed to be. You are sitting almost on his hips, he grins at you cockily with a raised brow.

“Stuff it Johnny, I just saved your ass.”

“Aye and I gotta thank you for it.”

And in a sudden sweep he pulled himself up and presses a soft kiss to the side of your lips.

“Thank you Love.”

Your face lifts a little at the memory and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes close an you bask in the warmth of the crowd. Following that moment the taskforce changed.

Take me out tonight

Take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

And in the darkened underpass

I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last"

But then a strange fear gripped me

And I just couldn't ask

You hop off the stool and head into the crowd, heart aching for comfort and the hands of others.

First it was soap, falling into your shadow, after the kiss your heightened senses saw his eyes on you everywhere. With other soldiers? One of the members of 141 was there, or he was, hands across his chest, standing guard.

You were training with members of KorTac. The largest fellow, König had taken a keen interest in you due to your language skills and you found a calming friend in the man. Masked like your Simon you felt more comfortable with him. So when he had you pinned you squirmed and broke free.

“Good”

His voice is soft, pale eyes meeting yours as you roll up onto your feet. You run at him before he can get up, but he shoots up and grabs you with a little yelp escaping from your mouth as you are then thrown a few feet onto the soft mat. You roll onto your back, the breath knocked out of you and the ceiling spinning slightly.

“That’s enough!”

Garrick’s sharp voice surprises you as his form appears in your settling vision. He’s quick to kneel down and check you out.

“I’m fine Kyle, just a bit of the rough and tumble.”

His soft lips frown disapprovingly,

“I don’t like you wrestling with him.”

He helps you up and you see König’s form looking out for you. You give him a small wave.

“Sorry Schatz” The nickname pauses you as you stand, Kyle’s arm around you guarding.

You blush a little and smile at the tall man before a gruff ‘Sergeant’ calls from the edge of the room. You find Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at König before he calls you to him. You nod a little dumbfounded and before you can pull out of Kyle’s grasp the man presses a kiss to the side of your head. Then lets you stumble into the waiting grasp of the Lieutenant.

You shake off the memory and your heart murmurs, but you ignore the hurt. For one night you were free from the confusion and rejection from your team. The crowd, seemingly sensing this welcomed you into their sway. A few single ladies sidled up you with wide smiles and pulled you into their group. You knew how to dance, you learned young, this skill pulled you into some interesting missions. As you sway with the ladies you recollect as the singer watches you.

Take me out tonight

Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum

Oh, I haven't got one

Oh, oh

Simon’s arms were steady around you, Price’s voice in your ear letting you know about the target. You had gone undercover as a couple to infiltrate a drug smugging ring. The leader was hosting a gala at a large mansion in the mountains. And seeing as Kyle and Johnny were on a mission that left you three on your own. You nod silently to Price. Simon pulls you closer and then spins you out on your heels.

“Who knew you could dance?”

You quip up at him, but he only nods, umber eyes taking in your form. You looked breathtaking and it stole the words from his lips.

FIrst Johnny then Kyle. You wondered as you looked up at Simon, handsome as ever in a dark black suit.

“Are you ok Simon?”

He hums, the sound deep in his chest, then in a moment he pulls you flush against him.

“Target on the move lovebirds.”

Price’s voice sound in your ears in a chuckle.

“RIght Captain.”

You sigh but Simon pauses in his movement, and you look up at him in confusion, you call his name but he just stares at you.

“We need to move Lt.”

Nothing, but his hand raising from your side to your face as he leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls a way and finishes with a

“Affirmative.”

Before leading your frozen self away.

You lose yourself in the music for a moment, rotating partners in innocent sways, just treasuring being lost in the moment, But this song of course must end.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

The voice is much closer and you soon find yourself face to face with the mysterious singer. He smiles as he sings and it reminds you of the final piece of the puzzle.

Price had fallen asleep at his desk, again. You sigh fondly and set a cup of warm lady earl grey aside. You move over to him as he mutters something in his sleep. You felt bad waking him but you knew you needed to before he slumped over.

“Captain”

Nothing, even as you call it 3 times. Finally desperate,

“Johnathan Price!”

He shoots awake, eyes darting around tensely before he finds you and softened immediately.

“You can’t be doing that to a man love.”

“You were falling asleep again, how many times do I need to get on you about that Cap? “

The man regards you and chuckles before he sees the tea. You notice this and turn to grab and hand it to him. When you you turn back around the man is standing regarding you. The moment then feels intimate and you flush a little, stepping back.

“Sorry I’ll just leav-”

“No love it's fine, and please if it's just us call me John.”

He reaches for the tea taking a sip while his ocean eyes watch you. There is something there and you can sense it. After nearly two years of serving under him you grew to know him pretty well, there was fondness in his gaze for all his soldiers. But this was something softer.

“John, I…”

He finishes the cup and sets it down, listening wholly to you and you find the attention has your heart stammering.

“The others have-”

“I know love.”

There it is again and you find yourself pausing as John leans forward, taking your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles into.

“What do I do?”

“Up to you love. I am here for you regardless. You need to get some sleep.”

With this he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand and lets you go.

The next day your deployed to the small village and the following four months are hell.

You shake off the feeling. After your injury they treated you like a child, like a burden to be kept locked away. You sigh, pausing, feeling alone in the middle of everybody again.

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

The singer finishes with a frown. The crowd cheers then standard music plays and the moment is broken. The singer passes the mic to his member then turns to your pondering self.

“Are you alright Love?”

His voice is soft and he stands a respectable distance away. One of the members of his band takes the mic and begins with Heaven knows I'm miserable now, continuing the Smiths theme. You almost want to laugh a smile lighting up your face at past (bad very bad) Karaoke attempts with Soap and Gaz.

“There’s a smile.” He smile down at you and offers a hand, you take it introducing yourself. He raises a hand to the crowd and your new girl friends cheer you on as you allow the stranger to pull you into a dance.

The next hour passes with another drink with your new friends and opening up about yourself. Nothing about missions nor sensitive information, but finding yourself in a strange position with the four men of the 141. A little looser you describe them all with a few giggles in response as you recount their crazy tactics. It was nice and you settled into the easy arm of the singer. His arm laid only on the back of your chair but under the watchful eyes of the girl group you got comfortable. At the end of the hour, approaching 3 in the morning the singer was called back on to stage.

A new base line and you swooned as something a bit more American played. The singer nodded his acceptance to the bassist and began to sing.

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On both sides, the vow was broken

Oh my my, I'm the one, tryin' to hide this damage done

One day, all our secrets will be spoken

He looked at you and gave a wink and the girls cheered as you threw back a beer. Fuck it. You allowed them to pull you into the ever thriving crowd. Your group drew into the heart of the crowd right up in front of the stage.

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

The singer surprised you and under a breath he hopped down from the stage to join the crowd. He approached you with a sway and a open offered hand. You looked into his eyes with a twinkle in yours. The girls cheering you on, you took his hand and swung into the music.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

Here you were free to experience life, a break from the bullets, free from the heated stares of the 141. Well, at least for a while. You would go back eventually, you bag had enough supplies for a few days. As you spun in the singers free arms flashes of green, blue and brown spun through your vision. You were a little under but still alert, but with the music you let it all go.

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On holy ground, our vows were broken

We met up, we broke bread, I was blue, your dress was red

Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was comin'

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

He pulled you closer in then, even if for a fleeting moment you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes were obsidian, reflecting the lights like stars and he sings until he’s breathless. You wondered for a moment what could happen.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

But as you dance the more of alert of the ladies elbows another, her head tilting subtly towards the entrance of the outdoor bar, where a familiar new set of men appeared. The girl went towards getting you but her friend stopped her as four sets of eyes found you then split up. She sent the girls a look.

Let’s see what happens.

Meanwhile you know the song is finishing and you find yourself taking the hand of the singer and he pulled you into a light embrace and spun you out as he finished breathlessly

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

He stops with a hum as the music continues for a few paces then goes out with the cheering of the crowd. You spin on the pads of your feet with a whooping feeling light in your chest, but you then bump into someone. But before you can apologize you are turned around in their arms and your breath hitches as Simon is staring down at you with dark eyes. It is then you sense another presence behind you and between you and the singer (whose hands are up in surrender) is Johnny.

The sounds of the band drown out with the depths of Simon’s eyes. There is too much there for you to comprehend. His sudden appearance breaks up the alcohol burning in your system and you stand up straighter. Emotions swirl underneath his balaclava, that alone a straight giveaway to his identity. There is anger yes, that much is evident, but you see the stinging presence of worry and something much deeper you dare not name. You turn your head away, the weight of the emotion pulling your heart back from the sky.

The singer shifted looking a little concerned, but Soap was a wide wall of muscle and kept himself close enough to brush your back from within Simon’s arms. The girls however outnumbered the men and give you a knowing look, you nod and they pull the singer away as he nods. You see Soap loosen immediately before turning and forcing your eyes into his.

Stormy blue oceans, the depth of which scare you as he nods to Simon towards the empty bar. You sigh and force yourself to loosen in Simon’s arms. He passes you to Soap and the men pull you gently to the bar where you are especially ashamed to see not only Kyle with your stuff, but a in the corner of the venue, out of noting eyes was John. Gaz with your bag, drew towards you and the four of you reached the awaiting Captain.

Johnny stood at your right, Kyle moving to your left and Simon towering over you like a vengeful wraith, and Johnny still had not let you go. You move to pull your arm from his, but he gives you a stern look, something of a overprotective mastiff.

“MacTavish”

“Captain-”

“Johnny.”

Simon’s deep voice rumbles from behind. Johnny hands trace down yours slowly before he takes your hand with a sigh, the tension finally releasing as his pinky takes yours in a final embrace before he finally lets go of you. He huffs and turns away in a slight pout that warms your heart and you find yourself taking his pinky back with yours. It’s a small show but the way his eyes light up behind the worry makes your heart melt. The other men trace the action, Kyle’s eyes meeting Price’s in silent communication. You all stand for a moment longer, not daring to speak, but when the wind causes you to shiver, alcohol in your system reddening your cheeks, its the weight of Simon against your back that surprises you, his arms, minding Soap’s hand, come under yours and wrap around you, his warmth melting into yours.

“‘Were worried Dove.” He leans down over you until his chin rests in top of your head and you can feel the rumble of his voice in your soul. It’s Kyle that speaks next.

“That was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done Love.” The man frowns, but his eyes move back to the singer and the group of girls, then he eyes you again sharply.

“What if something had happened?”

Its hard to move with Simon's weight on you but you shot Kyle a withering look.

“Nothing happened, I happened to be having fun.”

“But he had his arms-”

“Kyle”

John’s voice finally speaks up and the man turns away to glower at the crowd, then he reaches a hand for your free one and meets your eyes. There you see a storm of concern, a deep fondness and a bit of protectiveness.

“We need to talk Love, about the past months.” John takes command again, something deep in his soul calm again seeing his team together. But there was time in the morning to talk. He could see the exhaustion of the day creeping into as did the other men.

“In the morning, John” SImon’s voice rumbles feeling your form sway.

“Right Simon” he nods but before turning John steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. The action jolting your heart awake and leaving you flushed.

“John?”

“It’s ok sweetheart, sleep, we’ll get you home.”

With that he turns as Kyle and Johnny reluctantly release your hands. This leaves you and Simon as the men wait.

“Si-?” You are suddenly lifted, strong arms finding your back and under your knees to lift you bridal style. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles,

“I think I like the sound of that Love.”

And with a final turn to the crowd you manage a wave to the girls and the singer who shoots you a wink that causes a huff from simon before the man turns to follow the others.

Time to go home and as they walk, joking amongst each other with Simon’s soft voice luring you to sleep, You feel the loving eyes of the four men on you as you fall asleep.

----

End Part One!

Taglist! @ghostlythots

453 notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 11 months

Note

Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

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summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

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price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

978 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 1 year

Note

I love your idea for Hanahaki! Like you said, it's always so tragic and dramatic and angsty (and who am I kidding, I'll keep reading it), but your take on it is so refreshing!

For the event, can I request Ruggie with 15, Trey with 1, and Jade with 18? Romantic; fluff and/or suggestive, please?

And if I completely misunderstood how to request properly, I'm terribly sorry. 😬

So excited to see more of your work!

part 2: jade leech x gn!reader ruggie bucchi (15); trey clover (1) [separate] x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, suggestive [wc} – 2,500+ each prompt 15: “Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?” prompt 1: “Why is your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?” note - both ruggie and trey got real long, so i will post jade's snippet separately later! a floral inconvenience

Dahlias – In pre-Colombian Mexico and Guatemala, wild-growing dahlias and their tubers were seen as a food source.

Ruggie has been absolutely miserable for the past week, as one would be when they have mysterious large, red flowers sprouting out from their mouth and head. It also didn’t help that all the other second-years, especially the twins, were giving him a hard time.

“Hey, hey Jade! You know plants.” Floyd was currently picking at the flower that Ruggie just spit out, undeterred by the spit on it.

“I bet we can figure out who Sharksucker likes if we figure out what flower he’s spittin’ out. What kind is it?

Jade leaned down to study the intense red, ray-like petals, poking at the central disk of yellow florets in the middle. Ruggie was NOT a fan of how interested Jade was, attempting to lean out of the twins’ grasp.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen it on any of my hiking expeditions or in the botanical gardens.”

Ruggie yelped as Jade plucked a flower from a particularly sensitive spot behind his right ear.

“Ow! Watch it man!”

Rubbing his ear, Ruggie glared at Jade, who was still looking curiously at the flower bringing his arm down for Azul who also seemed eager to identify the flower.

“I certainly don’t recognize it either, looking up similar flora, there aren’t any that are quite the same as this one.”

Ruggie could just make out under Azul’s breath, “Imagine all the money we could make if we say we discovered a new flower!”

He scoffed at Azul, rubbing his eyes from mental exhaustion. The twins and Azul weren’t the only ones interested in his hanahaki.

“It’s a really pretty flower, Jamil! Do you think we have any like it in the gardens back home?” Kalim eagerly asked, trying his best to lean in without disturbing Silver, who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Hmm, no I don’t think so.” Jamil looked mildly interested, holding a hand to his chin. “The Asim gardens have a variety of exotic and rare flora, so the fact that we don’t recognize this one is certainly interesting.”

Jade chuckled, “So, it would be easy to narrow down the person of Ruggie’s affections, yes.”

“Why are you all suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“Why, we’re being benevolent, of course!” Azul replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yea Sharksucker, it must be reeeeal annoying to puke up flowers all the time. Besides—” Floyd gave a nasally laugh as Jade continued his sentence.

“—wouldn’t it be nice to have some assistance getting rid of his annoying sickness? After all, with your background, you’re not the most eligible bachelor around.”

“Okay, first of all fuck you—” Ruggie jabbed a fork in his direction.

“Not interested, but thank you.”

“Second of all—ew no, gross—second of all, you guys aren’t exactly the most pinned for guys, even with your family money.”

Riddle let out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Certainly, no price in the world could make up for your personalities.”

“Aww, come on Goldfishie.” Floyd pouted. “You don’ wanna go out with me? Why? I don’t meet your mama’s standard?”

“Why you—”

“Hey guys!”

A chipper voice interrupted a reddening Riddle, who looked like he was ready to launch himself over the table to strangle Floyd. Ruggie perked up to look at you and Grim perched on your shoulder, carrying a lunch tray with some coffee, a bowl of oatmeal, and a singular powdered donut.

Adjusting the tray in your hands, you let Grim jump off onto the table as you sat. You grabbed the donut with your freed hand and reached your arm out to Ruggie.

“Hey, I got you a donut, powdered’s your favorite right?”

Oh. Oooooh powdered was indeed his favorite. So were you. By the Seven, he thinks that you’d be his favorite snack. You were so cute. Your lips looked soft, plush. He wondered if you took a bite out of the donut if the first thing he’d taste was you or the sugar.

Opening his mouth to reply, Ruggie found himself instead choking, a tickling sensation developing in the pit of his stomach and growing up his throat to his mouth. He gagged as various shades of bright red blooms fell out of his mouth and onto the table. Specifically, onto your tray as you sat directly across from him.

Ruggie could make out the stifling laughter of his peers . He internally groaned, looking at your tray, now covered in red flowers. Riddle tapped his shoulder, offering him a cup of warm tea.

“Here, it should help soothe your throat.”

Taking the cup, he started drinking what he thought was honey lemon tea, soothing his throat.

Across the table from him, you let out a soft cough, drawing his and the other’s attention.

“Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?”

The tea went down the wrong pipe. Ruggie started choking, Kalim frantically reaching over to pat his back.

“Oh? Does the Little Shrimpy know this flower?” Floyd asked, he and his brother slithering over to sit on either side of you. Their eyes met briefly, then at Ruggie, both giving him a knowing grin.

“Dahlias? Yeah! They’re my favorite!” you answered, blissfully unaware of the predicament they’d just put him in.

Ruggie wished he could be just as carefree.

The other five slowly turned their heads to stare at Ruggie, each looking especially gleeful and teasing.

“You don’t say?” Jamil drawled, smirking at Ruggie, whose state of mind was rapidly deteriorating. “We’ve never heard of it.”

You looked at Jamil in surprise. “Wait really?”

“Yes, these, dahlias you called them? They’re not from Twisted Wonderland.” Riddle had a mischievous smile, tipping the end of Ruggie’s cup before he could interject, making him choke on the tea again.

“Aw really? That kinda sucks.” you pouted, twirling one of the loose flowers in your hand. “I love them, fun fact, did you know you can eat both the flower and the tuber?”

Ruggie would never admit it out loud, but your cute, excitable grin makes him feel all warm and giddy inside. He’d even give you his grandma’s homemade donuts if he got to see more of it.

By the Seven, he’d give you his donuts. He really had it bad.

“Really? How fascinating! Isn't it Ruggie?” Jade asked, giving a closed mouth smile. The tone of his voice made it clear though, he and the others figured out you were the root cause of his hanahaki.

Ruggle got up abruptly, snatching the donut from your hand (why miss out on free food?) and the breakfast sandwich he’d gotten for Leona.

“I gotta go take Leona’s breakfast to him, I’ll see you guys later—”

“Wait, Ruggie!” Kalim cries out, startling Silver awake. “But the Prefect knows the flowers—”

“WOW I GOTTA GO! BYE GUYS SEE YOU LATER!”

Ruggie rushed out of the cafeteria, red petals flying behind him as he ran. The remaining 8 at the table stared after him, you in particular looking confused.

“Is he okay?” You asked, looking confused and disappointed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, perhaps we went a bit too far…” Jamil muttered.

Riddle sighed as he nodded in agreement, “Yes. Don’t worry yourself about it Prefect, we were discussing something else, you didn’t say anything wrong.”

You hummed as you cleared off your tray of dahlias, taking small bites of your oatmeal.

“Why’s he puking flowers?”

The group stayed silent, sharing knowing looks with each other. The twins and Azul in particular were smirking, while Kalim perked up.

“Oh he has hanahaki, it’s like a love sickness.” Kalim blissfully replied, Jamil pinching his nose and sighing heavily.

“Love…sickness?”

Riddle placed a hand on Kalim’s shoulder, giving him a stern look. “We had our fun earlier, but it’s not our business to share his medical information with anyone.”

He turned his gaze to you, making you shrink in on yourself. “It would be best to ask him yourself, Prefect.”

Floyd tsked. “Aww, that’s no fun! Don’t you wanna help Sharksucker? You do, dontcha Shrimpy?”

The twins leaned into your ears, like an angel and devil on your shoulder if the angel was just a devil with a halo and wings taped on.

“Why, you care for Ruggie, don’t you dear Prefect?” Jade cooed, chucking at your pink cheeks.

“Hehehe, of course they too, look at their blush!” Floyd giggled, poking at your right cheek. “Little Shrimpy isn’t a shrimp for nothin’!”

“And after all, only you can help him!” Azul came up behind you, startling you as he placed his hands on your shoulder.

The trio chuckled, coercing you to listen to their honeyed words, feeding on your soft spot for the hyena beastman.

Riddle shared a look with Jamil before sighing and walking off. Jamil followed suit, grabbing Kalim by the arm to drag him away before he too, inevitably, got involved in their scheme. Silver, now that he was bright and alert, similarly left, nodding at you.

Here you were, alone amongst the “benevolent” Octavinelle trio, now regretting waking up early to get breakfast instead of just sleeping in.

Ruggie had been leaving trails of dahlias behind him all day, getting on the ghost janitors’ ire and lectured by Crewel specifically.

“Loose flowers in a lab is the perfect example of a hazard to lab safety! Have you not gone to the nurse to get this taken care of?!”

He hadn’t had a fit since seeing you this morning, luckily. He had noticed you in the hallways in between classes though. Everytime your eyes met his own, you’d flush and rush away.

“Ugh, one of the guys must’ve told them.” Ruggie groaned, slumped over as he walked over to the kitchens, feet aching from running around his shift at Sam’s and now Mostro Lounge.

Azul had asked him to collect some perishable items that he’d purchased from a supplier, having it delivered to the school’s walk-in fridge until he could have someone pick it up.

Jade and Floyd were supposed to be there, ready to help, but they were nowhere to be found. Ruggie shrugged, walking into the kitchen and heading to the fridge before he felt himself get yanked by his collar.

“Hahahehehe! Be sure to thank us later, Sharksucker!”

“Fuhuhu~ Indeed Ruggie, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it later.”

“Oof! Hey!” Ruggie stumbled into the pantry, landing on something soft. “What the-Jade, Floyd this isn’t funny—”

“Mmph!” The floor beneath him started wiggling and groaning, startling Ruggie. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, his hyena genes serving him well as he yelped, looking down.

A white cloth was tied around your mouth while your hands and feet were bound by what looked like Floyd’s scarf. Ruggie’s ears and dahlias drooped down as he saw that your cheeks were covered in tear tracks.

"Mmmphie! Mmmphie! Mmmph mmph mmph!" came out from behind the tightly-bound cloth.

“W-what? FLOYD! JADE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” He could hear the twins’ laughter from outside the door. Ruggie started pounding on the door with his fist, growling before freezing, hearing your muffled crying.

The hyena scrambled to turn on the light switch before returning back to your curled up form, gingerly untying the bound on your mouth.

“R-r-ruggie!!” You bawled out, fresh new tears spilling out of your eyes as he undid the knot on your hands, then feet.

“Hey, hey it’s alright Prefect, Y/N? I’m here—AH!” He yelped as you launched yourself in his arms, landing on his back, red petals flying . He stiffened as you shoved your head into the nook of his neck, hiccuping as you began babbling.

“I’m sorry Ruggie!!!” Softly glowing dahlias started popping up from between his ears and vines growing down his arms as he spat out petals.

“What’re you talking about? This isn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Azul and them said you were sick and that it was my faaaaault!” He froze, pulling you away to look at your teary eyes and snotty face.

Gods you looked terrible. Red-faced, puffy eyes, and pout made you look like an ugly crier, not doing you any justice. Ruggie couldn’t help the squeeze in his heart as you reached back out to clutch onto him again. You were the cutest ugly crier he’d ever seen.

“What? What do you mean—”

“They said that my crush on you’s been making you puke the flowers!” Ruggie’s ears perked up, and despite the growing blush and the resembling dahlias, he let you continue.

“Your crush?”

“My crush!!! It’s making you sick, a-and that I needed to confess to make it go away but-but-but-” You wailed, Ruggie allowing you to shove your head into his chest.

“I was embarrassed! Then Floyd got mad a-at me and he and Jade tied me up and threw me in here.”

Ruggie hummed in response. It made sense now why Azul specifically asked him to collect the produce from the kitchen, instead of letting him manage the floor like usual.

“They said I was ’ppose to be a present. I’m sorry Ruggie, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head affectionately.

“Nah, it’s not your fault entirely.” He tilted your chin to look up at him. “You are the reason I got the flowers, but not cause of your crush though.”

You made a questioning noise, blinking curiously at him. You looked like one of the kids back home after throwing a tantrum.

“Shyehehehe! They didn’t say what the flowers ‘re from?” Ruggie laughed as you pouted, pinching his cheek.”

“What do you mean? Is it still my fault? And I basically just confessed! I’m crying in a closet, just confessed and you’re laughing at me!”

Ruggie’s laughter died down as he grabbed your hand, moving it to cradle his cheek instead. His ears perked up as he heard your soft gasp, his eyes meeting yours, blown wide.

His tail wagged, despite himself. “It’s cause I like ya, Prefect. I like ya so much that it makes my stomach ache and flowers sprout from all over. I gotta hand it to ya, for a cute little herbivore, you sure got your teeth dug right into my heart.”

You scoffed, using your other arm to wipe your face clean.

“The dahlias make sense now…did you at least try eating them?”

He let out a barking laugh, followed by your giggling. “I thought about it! I spat out enough of them that I got sick of the taste, besides…”

Ruggie could hear the rustling of his tail under his clothes as he wrapped an arm around your waist, grinning wider at the gasp that left your mouth as he yanked you onto his lap.

He pressed you against him until your bodies were flushed against one another. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach as he gazed up to your flustered face. Ruggie nuzzled his head into your chest, feeling your rapidly speeding heartbeat.

“Ruggie…” You tangled your hands through his hair, making him groan as you gently pulled his head back and rubbed the backs of his ears.

You leaned down to graze your lips over his, giving Ruggie a heady whine as he nibbled on your lower lip.

“Shyehehe~ You’re awfully clingy for a poor little hyena like me, you sure I meet your standards?”

Despite his attempt at humor, Ruggie was sure that you could hear the apprehensive tone in his voice, your eyes softening.

Instead of pointing his insecurity out, you answered his question with a deep, open-mouth kiss. He groaned into your mouth, returning your kiss with desperation, as if you’d disappear in his grasp.

Ruggie’s hands wandered along your sides, slipping underneath your shirt and tracing your spine, causing you to shiver in delight. You pulled away from his lips, causing him to let out a displeased growl before shifting into something closer to a purr as you left wet kisses along his neck.

Feeling your teeth softly dig themselves into the crook of his neck and chest, Ruggie rolled his hips into yours, delighting in the moan that left you.

Just as you started suckling, no doubt leaving a mark, his world turned upside down as he suddenly fell backwards onto the ground of the college kitchen.

“Ow, shit!” Ruggie winced as the back of his head smacked into the hard tile flooring, you splayed over his body.

“What is wrong with you two? When I said get them into a room together, I didn’t mean—oh my!” Azul squeaked, glasses skewed as he saw the two of you. Ruggie developing a dark red hickey and you with your shirt nearly half off.

“Aw, see it worked out!” Floyd chirped, delighted at the turn of events.

Jade chuckled, taking his phone out to quickly snap a photo.

“W-what, hey! Don’t go taking pictures!” Ruggie cried out as the both of you scrambled to get up and tidy yourselves.

Jade smiled innocently. “Oh? Don’t worry, I’ll only share it with the other second years, just to win a bet.”

Ruggie narrowed his eyes at Jade. “Alright but how much did ya bet? You’re gonna split it with me right—”

The four men winced at your shrill shriek.

“RUGGIE?! NO!”

Zinnia – A purple zinnia flower symbolizes spiritual exaltation and honoring the divine. It also symbolizes love on a soul mate level.

Pink cosmos – In the Victorian era, cosmos flowers symbolized joy in love and in life. Dark pinks ones should be given to a romantic interest.

The latest unbirthday planning was going well. Since spring had just arrived, it was tradition for the first spring unbirthday party to have the desserts be made with the seasonal harvest. Riddle was especially happy to hear that Trey would be making strawberry and apricot tarts for this party.

Trey was especially excited to try his hand at his mother’s sugared lavender cupcakes, a family recipe that she insisted on keeping out of his hands until he guaranteed her an in-law.

Luckily he’d managed to convince her by telling her that the cupcakes might help him dazzle a certain someone. She was quick to mail him the original copy with the promise of a visitor during the next break.

Now if only he could find the recipe card.

“Hmm, I thought I brought it down from my room…hey Cater?”

“Yeah Trey?” Cater answered in a sing-song voice.

“I can’t find my mom’s recipe card.” Trey groaned as he rubbed his face. “She’ll kill me if I lose it, can you go to my room to check if I left it on my desk?”

Cater winked and gave him a finger gun. “Sure thing Trey! Cay-Cay in on the case! Brb!”

Trey nodded as Cater left the kitchen, now focusing on preparing the jam and frosting for the strawberry-lemon cake, which was cooling on the counter. He was so focused on making the jam and whisking the cream cheese frosting, he failed to notice a certain someone sneaking up behind him.

“Boo!”

Trey hummed, looking over his shoulder to look down at you with your arms out and teeth bared. “Oh, hey Y/N, you’re here early.”

“Aw booooooo! You were supposed to get scared!” You pouted at the taller man, pulling at his arm as he laughed at your little tantrum.

“Haha, scared? Of you? Hardly.” Trey winced and held his arms up in defense, still laughing as you started to pound on his arms and back.

“Ow, ow! Okay I concede!” He grabbed your hands, holding them over your head as he leaned down towards your face, smirking.

Trey hovered his face over yours, enjoying your pouty blush. With a teasing lilt, he cooed, “Don’t be a brat, Y/N. Or else you won’t get a treat later~”

“Hmph, maybe I’ll just steal some later. What are you gonna do? Punish me?” You replied in an equally teasing tone, stepping on your tiptoes, making yourself just talk enough to brush your nose against his.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me, I just might—”

“Hey Trey I found your—whoa! What did I just walk into?”

The two of you rapidly distanced yourselves from each other, Trey nearly knocking over the bowl of jam and you tripping into the table chair.

Both of you answered Cater with a louder than needed, “Nothing!” as your faces turned the same shade as the strawberries he was baking with.

“Riiiiight, uh, Trey I got your mom’s recipe card!” The ginger looked between you two with an absolute ecstatic grin, making eye contact with Trey and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I can come back though, if you two need a moment—”

You interrupted, “No, it’s fine. I promised Ace and Deuce I’d help paint the roses.”

Trey looked at you wistfully as you tidied yourself, pulling out a bouquet of dark-pink cosmos from your bag.

“Here, you like these right? I thought you could use them to decorate the cake ‘n stuff.”

Trey smiled and accepted the bouquet of admittedly stunning cosmos, ignoring Cater’s open mouth smile and silent squealing.

“Thanks, I’m sure they’ll go great with the cake, I’ll see you later.”

His eyes wandered up and down your body as you left the kitchen, waving your fingers as you gave a playful “Bye~”

Trey replied with his own enamored “bye” as he waved after you, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you leave.

Eyes still on the doorway you left through, it took a few moments and Cater waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention back.

“Helloooo? Wonderland to Trey~” Cater sang, snapping his fingers in Trey’s face. “You’re a lil out of it, got something juicy you wanna share with me? Come on! Give Cay-Cay the deets!”

Trey rolled his eyes, swiping the recipe card from his friend’s hands.

“There’s no ‘deets’ for Cay-Cay to know, not if he wants me to make him a spicy fruit cocktail for today.”

Cater hummed as he watched Trey resume building the strawberry-lemon cake, gesturing for him to grab stuff from the pantry.

“Now, help me grab the lavender from the pantry, and get some more flour, I’ll need it for the cupcakes.”

“Sure! Speaking of flowers…” Cater leaned over to whisper into Trey’s ear, “why’s your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?”

Cater let out an uncharacteristically giddy cackle as he watched Trey drop the clean bowl he’d grabbed, whipping around to stare at him with wide eyes.

“You saw those?”

“Yeah, zinnias right?” Cater called out as he collected the items Trey requested. “Little Y/N’s favorite~ You want to tell me where you got so many?”

“Uh, the botanical gardens, where else?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, the gardens.” sneaking up from behind him, Cater plucked a light purple colored flower from the back of Trey’s neck, who hissed at the sudden prick.

“Not from hanahaki popping up on your body, tooootallyyy!”

Trey groaned out loud, attempting to look behind him for any other blooms. “Damn it, I thought I got rid of them. Are there more I can’t see?”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Cater waved him off, looking around the hard-to-reach places for his friend. “It was just the one.”

Trey sighed in relief, thanking Cater as he placed the bag of lavender petals in his hand, “Good, it was a pain to get them out of my hair, let alone my mouth. They’re really bitter you know?”

“O-M-G, Treeeeey!” Cater gasped, throwing himself against his friend. “That’s, like, a supes easy fix! Just confess, you already have the flowers to give!”

“Ha, I know, I plan to later.”

“Plus, with the way you two were allover each other earlier, there’s no way they won’t say yes—OMGWAITWHAT!”

Cater shook Trey by his shoulders, while the latter attempted to steady the bowl of dry ingredients in his hand, guarding it with a vigor akin to a knight and their liege.

“OMGNOWAYWHENHOWAREYOUGONNADOITINFRONTOFEVERYONEAREYOUGONNADOITINPRIVATECANIRECORDCANIPOSTITTREYTREYTREYTREYTREY—”

Trey smacked his free hand on Cater’s mouth, effectively silencing him minus a few muffled sounds. He breathed out a heavy and deep sigh before slowly replying to Cater.

“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you quiet down?”

Cater gave an enthusiastic nod, eyes twinkling. Trey could feel the grin against his hand, and reluctantly and slowly removed his hand.

“...So when did you find out? When did you decide to confess?!” The ginger asked giddily, watching as Trey resumed his task at hand, preparing the ingredients for the lavender cupcakes.

“A week ago, I overheard Ace and Deuce talking about the Prefect coughing up a bunch of pink cosmos, they were arguing over what tea would help with their symptoms.”

Cater made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, pointing at the cosmos you’d given to Trey earlier, placed carefully on the counter.

“You mean—”

“Mm-hm, those are probably their hanahaki, grew up with those in my mom’s garden, she used them as garnishes on cakes, especially wedding ones.”

Trey smiled fondly as he reached to grab one of the small flowers, rubbing the soft petals between his fingers. “A bit after that I started to find zinnias in my bed, coughing them up and everything. I think the nurse probably put two and two together after I went to see her.”

He shrugged as he grabbed his mother’s recipe card, twirling it in his fingers.

“I figured, why wait? Mom always said that it was these cupcakes that snatched Dad up, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at them plus she wouldn’t pass down this recipe without a partner in the picture.”

“Oh, Trey!” Cater clasped his hands together as he squealed, “You want help? I get some of the froshies to finish up the tarts and cake, so you can focus on those! Like, don’t even worry about it boo!”

Cater winked gave Trey a half-arm hug. “I’ll make sure they follow instructions to a T! All I ask for in exchange is the exclusive right to snap the first pic of the brand-new school couple, capiche?”

True to his word, Cater was quick to round up a handful of freshmen who he’d found goofing off instead of painting roses. They were more than happy to take over Trey’s baking, after he gave them strict rules and a talking too on what to do, in order to not be snitched off to Riddle.

Thankfully, the cupcakes weren’t difficult to make, what with his experience in the kitchen. He’d cut the recipe down by half so that he’d only make four, medium sized cupcakes. In fact, the most difficult part was making sure that he ground up enough lavender to turn the glaze a soft purple, which complemented the zinnias he’d placed in the small basket. Using the plush flowers as a cushion, he placed the blooms of your cosmos in between the gaps, creating a beautiful, pink and purple presentation.

He was sure you’d love it, carefully hiding the wicker basket, covered by a white tablecloth, underneath the table.

Later, Trey smiled as he looked around at the dorm members enjoying the party. His cake was a big hit, and Riddle in particular was enjoying the flower themed desserts, specially the daisy-shaped fruit tarts.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time Trey!” Riddle praised him, “It seems that everyone has particularly enjoyed the sweets this time around. Well done, I’d expect nothing less!

Trey chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks Riddle, be sure to praise the freshmen too, that group over there helped out a lot as well.”

Riddle nodded, his mood in high-spirits as he walked over to the group Trey gestured to. Trey raised his head to look over the crowd of red, white, and black for Cater, who was currently adjusting his slice of cake for the perfect angle.

Grim was also with him, hungrily waiting for Cater to give him the okay to make the sacrifice of scarfing down the sweet dessert. Perfect.

Trey briskly walked over to him, basket in hand, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Cater perked up and nodded before calling out.

“Hey Acey, Deucey! Com ‘ere real quick, Cay-Cay needs ya for a super-duper important task!”

The pair perked up mid-conversation with you, nodding at you and rushing over to Cater per his request. Trey walked over to you, though he could make out Cater asking the duo for assistance with a Magicam post.

“Hey, Y/N.” You smiled up at him as he approached, wiping the tart crumbs from the corner of your mouth. Trey had the impulsive to lean down and lick the mess off of you himself, though he shook it away.

“Hey, what’s up Trey!” You clasped your hands behind you, rocking back and forth on your heels, unaware of the petals. “You did great with the desserts, I noticed you didn’t use the flowers I gave you on the cake though…are they not edible?”

“About that…I actually wanted to show you something else I did with the flowers,” Trey held his hand out to you soft smile growing bigger as you laced your fingers through his.

Trey led you to an isolated corner of the rose maze, stiffening slightly as you wrapped your arm around his, relaxing as you leaned in. The small basket was being carefully guarded against his right side, being carefully cradled like a precious stone in a gold necklace.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence like an old, aging married couple on a stroll. The image made him smile.

I wasn’t but a few minutes later that you’d arrived at a secluded white gazebo, roses and vines crawling up the sides. It was just far enough away that the sound of laughter and chatter from the party was but a faint white noise, giving Trey the perfect ambiance needed for his plan.

“Take a seat right there, I got something for you.” Trey gestured to the stone bench, a fitting heart-shaped backrest further setting the mood.

“Oh? Alright.” You took a seat, still looking up at him with a curious expression. “Is it something in the basket?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “Why don’t you close your eyes and let me surprise you?”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, scoffing as you obey.

“Fine, if I get another spoonful of vanilla extract though—”

Trey barked out a laugh. “I told you it was bitter! Now keep those eyes closed.”

“It smells sweet! It’s made of vanilla!” You huffed, flinching and then relaxing as you felt him place the basket on your lap. “That’s not the worst thing even, I’m still angry about the oyster sauce donuts!”

“Okay that one was your own fault, you saw me do the same thing with Ace and the chestnut tarts, remember? When we first met?”

You smiled fondly, as did Trey though you couldn’t see it. What Trey could see though were the cosmos blooming along your exposed nape. He let out a soft cough, spitting out a lilac zinnia.

“Hmm, yeah, I do.” He wiped his hands clean, gingerly placing the zinnia on the bench next to you, uncovering the basket and grabbing one of the still pristine cupcakes.

“Okay, here—” Trey took the sugared lavender stem and held it up to you mouth. “—open up and say ‘aah’~”

“Pfft—okay, aaaah~” Grinning, Trey placed the stem on your tongue and watched as you slowly chewed.

“Well? How’s that taste?”

You hummed. “It’s sweet, flowery…it tastes like the evening tea Riddle has before bed…soooo lavender?”

Trey hummed in affirmation. “That’s right, now take a bite of this.” He unfolded the wrapper off of the cupcake, holding it up as you took a small bite.

“Mmmh! Trey!” Your moan of delight caused a pleasurable shiver down his spine, less than pure thoughts filling his head. “It’s so good, it’s lavender too? Is it a cookie…no wait, a cupcake!”

“Heh, good guess, I have one last thing for you to taste, ‘kay?”

He watched as you eagerly nodded, mouth open for the next treat. Trey leaned down, hovering his lips over you own, noticing the light purple glaze still on your bottom lip.

Feeling his breath over your own, you stuttered out, “T-trey? What are you—mmph!”

Trey gently, but firmly pressed his lips to yours, licking the glaze and swiping his tongue along your lip as you opened up to let him in. Your hands reached to tug him by the lapel, returning his kiss with eagerness and tugging him closer and closer, gasps leaving both of your lips.

Still hands were now wandering, gliding up your thighs and along the curve of your back, deciding to settle on the backrest. Trey found himself leaning down to match your height, knee settled in between your thighs.

A beguiling groan rang from between your mouths, from who you didn’t know, then another as Trey’s tongue met your own. Then a gasp as you felt his hand hook underneath you as he lifted you to curl against his body, left hand still cradling and rubbing soothing circles at the small of your back.

Your back was so far arched, chest meeting chest, that you moved your hands from their steel grip on his lapels to instead wrap around his shoulder and neck as he dipped you further to feel your body press into his.

Trey licked your lower lip again, positive he could still taste the sweet lavender on your lip, causing you to whine as he instead took your lower lip between his teeth and tug. Breaking the kiss to observe your red face, gasping breaths, and half lidded eyes.

He has to say, of all the cakes, cookies, and pastries he’s made and tried over the years, you were by far the sweetest, and most divine treat he’s tasted. Trey decided that he needed another taste to confirm as he lips met yours for another passionate kiss.

#twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #trey clover #ruggie bucci x reader #trey clover x reader #twst ruggie #mochi requests #a floral inconvenience #twst trey #twst x reader #twst ruggie x reader #twst trey x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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python333 · 3 days

Text

what's a noise to an eardrum? — python³

― ― ― ―

synopsis you've been on a mission for a while, and instead of going back to your quarters after coming back, you head to ghost's.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters simon "ghost" riley.

word count 2.2k

warnings ghost's pov, 2nd person pov [you/your/yourself], sleep deprivation, bad cliches, bad writing, might be ooc

note hey gang!!! i think i got all the warnings since this is pretty lighthearted considering what i usually post, so enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!

Ghost was sitting at his desk―in his own sleeping quarters, since it’s technically past curfew and he doesn’t need any trouble from recruits about him being in his office after hours, the annoying little shits―typing away at his computer, trying to get a report on his latest assignment done before going to bed.

He’s had a little bit of trouble sleeping lately. Not to say that it’s your fault, but it’s definitely your fault. He doesn’t necessarily need you around to go to sleep, but since you volunteered for a mission a week ago, he’s been a little on edge. Originally, it would’ve been Soap and a few other sergeants heading out to a small town in some country down in Central America, but you took the place of Soap after Price had explained the mission.

It could technically be done by one person, he’d said in short, but it’s quicker to send out a squadron than a single soldier.

You weren’t the best sniper they had, but you had enough experience with it for Price to approve of you going with one other person to keep watch of you. The long duration of the mission was really to be blamed on how often your target had been moving, leaving you with little room to take any shots. It wasn’t too important of a mission, however―as long as you didn’t miss your target in the end―so Ghost is sure Price is glad that he only had to send out one soldier instead of around six or seven.

Still, despite how there was little to no chance of you coming out of this mission in multiple pieces, Ghost found himself worried; something he, admittedly, feels for a lot of the soldiers here. His worry for you is different, though. Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it has something to do with how he’s seen you grow over the years that you’ve been here, and how close you’ve gotten to going from a Private to a Lance Corporal. It’s a relatively low rank for someone in the 141, which only makes him―dare he admit it―prouder. A weird feeling lingers in his mind when the word proud comes to mind as he thinks of you, but he ignores that feeling, instead opting to focus on the report he so desperately wanted to finish.

Despite his usual sleep aversion, he finds himself wanting to sleep for once.

Just as he gets to the middle of his report, he hears a knock at the door. Before Ghost can even say anything, he hears the door open, and his head whips around to see who would decide that it’s a good idea to enter his room without his permission. Though, all of his confusion and building anger dissipates the moment he sees that it’s you. Fresh from medical, he can safely assume, seeing the various bandages and bruises on you, and that odd too-clean smell that’s sticking to you. You look so exhausted, it’s almost funny. Almost.

You close the door behind you and Ghost turns his head back to his laptop. It’s not that he doesn’t want to look at you, but it’s a little harder to when you look so disheveled. He hears a few footsteps, then the squeaking of bed springs, and a sigh before the rustling of bed sheets. In the faint reflection of his computer screen, Ghost can just barely see you getting comfortable under the covers of his bed, seeming to fully disregard his presence. He doesn’t mind, though. He gets it; that feeling after being on guard for so long, not sure how much of it you can let down even though you’re back on base, and that strange structureless feeling where you wish you had bones but only feel like flesh.

It’s odd, put simply. When Ghost thinks of the feeling, he thinks of the age-old question, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound? The feeling is like a constant questioning of what you’re experiencing, the wonderance of whether or not you can feel safe if the safest you’ve ever felt is a feeling lost somewhere beyond you. If you lose a feeling, was it ever felt? If you lost safety, were you ever safe, or, as Maslow would put it, were you always missing that basic need? Ghost knows plenty about missing safety. He knows that his mind blanks when he tries to think about the last time he felt safe before the 141.

He knows that you know plenty about missing safety, too. Not a lot, because you never say enough to clue him in on just how much you’re missing, but he has his suspicions. Some are confirmed, others mere theories, but still―he knows you well enough. That’s why you’re in his room, not saying a word, just breathing heavily into his pillow and trying to garner warmth from his blanket. He can see you staring at him from the bed. He’s sure you want him to say something, and because it’s you that’s looking at him, he does.

“Back already?” Ghost asks dryly, drawing a small huff out of you.

“Soap said y’missed me,” you reply, making Ghost scoff, “when he visited me in the infirmary.”

“Too big of a mouth on ‘im,” Ghost saves the draft of his report, deciding to just save writing it for another time, instead closing out of the program and hovering his finger over the power button on his keyboard, “don’t know how y’managed to understand him.”

You hum and sit up in Ghost’s bed, the blankets rustling again, and as Ghost’s screen goes black, he turns around to see you sitting up with the blankets wrapped around you like a jacket. He blinks at you, before raising an eyebrow at your position.

“Ruinin’ my blankets?” he asks, though sounding barely offended, “After walking in unannounced besides that little knock?”

“Ruin’s a pretty strong word,” you argue, “and it wasn’t a little knock. It was loud. Practically echoed off the walls.”

Ghost can sense your sarcasm from a mile away, but continues to play along, leaning back in his chair. You look a little more tired covered in blankets, he thinks, those dark circles under your eyes are a little more pronounced. He sees them a lot. Those darkened semi-circles that he used to think were just a part of you, some kind of skin condition, but later realized they were a product of your sleep deprivation. It would’ve been his first thought had he not always seen you with the bags under your eyes, but after going on leave with you―a few months ago, back to his small house, after you had admitted that you preferred staying with him to going back to your dingy apartment―and witnessing you getting proper rest, seeing those circles get a little lighter, he knew that it was more of a sleep issue.

He’s gone through his fair share of sleeping problems. He still goes through them; everyone in the military does, he’s sure. Ghost used to think that he took the brunt of it, compared to the rest of the task force, not because of the missions but because of what came before the missions. He’s changed his way of thinking since then, has opened up his mind a little more beyond the idea of suffering more than someone else in a specific sense, but he still had that feeling that he took on the majority of nightmares. The word “nightmare” feels a little juvenile for him, but until someone creates a better word for the repulsive things he sees after closing his eyes and just barely drifting asleep, that’s what he’s stuck with.

“You better hope y’didn’t wake anyone up with it, then,” Ghost hums, “I doubt anyone wants to be awake right now.”

He sees a small smile grow on your face and small spots of blood arise from beneath the cracked skin of your lips.

“Everyone here sleeps like a rock as far as I know,” you reply, before pausing, considering, “maybe except for the guys who came in a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sure they’ll be gone by next month,” Ghost tells you, his tone almost reassuring, “I don’t think they can handle any of… this.”

“You don’t think they can handle your bullying?” you scoff, making Ghost huff out a small laugh, “Weak.”

“Not everyone’s as strong as you, unfortunately,” Ghost hums sarcastically, getting up from his chair and walking the short distance over to his bed where you’re sitting. Automatically, you move so that Ghost can sit down next to you.

You’re both silent for a little bit. Ghost can see the few healing bruises on your face a little clearer here. Small dark yellows and reds on the sharper points of your face, the parts where the bone is a little closer to the skin, particularly your cheeks and a few over your jawline and near your chin. They’re a bad look on you, not because Ghost doesn’t think you can handle yourself, but because he knows that you can handle yourself, so the only way you could’ve gotten those bruises is if you were forced into a corner. He would consider that they were an accident, somehow self-inflicted, but he knows better than that.

“Are you tired?” Ghost asks, even though he knows the answer.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.” There it is.

“And for the few days that you did sleep?” He thinks he knows the answer to this too.

“I don’t know if you can really call it that.” Bingo.

It’s not surprising to him. Not only has he been on enough missions with you to know how hard it is for you to sleep outside of the base, but he’s managed to get you to actually tell him about your sleeping struggles. He knows. He watches you subtly kick off your boots, letting them fall over onto their sides, as if you could read his mind and know what he’s going to request next.

“Lay down,” Ghost puts a bare hand on your clothed shoulder and lightly pushes at it, prompting you to lean back onto your side, settling into the bed with the blankets still wrapped around you.

Ghost doesn’t mind the lack of blankets he’s getting. As long as you’re the one hogging them, he finds it easier to go without them, strangely enough. He lays down onto the bed next to you, his head naturally above yours, and neither of you bother to change positions. He doesn’t attempt to pull the blankets from you, and you don’t try to move away from him, the both of you simply existing together in one small space with nothing interrupting you two. A thin layer of air, similar to the blanket covering you, seems to cover the both of you, not trapping you together but instead comforting the both of you. The air feels woven from Ghost’s thoughts, yarn strewn from his cerebral cortex, emotions run through an invisible loom to create the beautiful quilt that covers the both of you.

Ghost’s hand comes up to thumb at the edge of his balaclava, and he pulls it up the tiniest bit, but then pauses to think.

He knows that if you just turn your head up the tiniest bit, you’ll see his face. The blonde stubble peeking out from under his skin, the small dent forming in the middle of his nose from the constant wearing of his balaclava, and possibly the most embarrassing of all, that small smile he wears that pulls at his already cracking lips that draws blood on occasion. Despite all of this, he pulls his face covering all the way off, and tosses it onto his desk. Your face doesn’t move an inch despite how obvious it is that some kind of fabric has hit the desk.

He considers saying thank you, but Ghost doesn’t deem it necessary. You’re so close to sleeping that he doesn’t want to risk ruining your chances by talking to you. So, instead, he just brings his arm over your side and lets his hand reach up into the nape of your neck to toy with the small hairs tapering off there. They’re short enough that he’s essentially just brushing his fingers against the skin of your neck, but he assumes you don’t mind, considering how you continue to not move. You stay still peacefully, soft breaths leaving you as your body starts to actually relax.

So you weren’t lying about your lack of sleep, he thinks, his own eyes slowly closing, not that I thought you were, anyway.

Your breathing creates the perfect white noise to him. The vibrations emitting from your larynx that escape your mouth reach his ear canals, where they bounce off of his eardrums, and move down from his middle ears to his inner ears where the nerve endings that live there turn the vibrations into electrical impulses and are translated by his brain into actual sound. The translation sounds like more than just a simple sound, though; it’s like your breathing is translated into actual words rather than breathing, words like safe and guarded. Those small vibrations bounce around in his ears and turn into syllables, then eventually whispers, then firm speech.

Those words are like music to his ears, as cliché as it is, and he cherishes every word he hears―more than he’ll ever let you know.

#cod #simon ghost riley #platonic task force 141 #ghost #uhhh #that might be it #rip no tags #ghost & reader #simon ghost riley & reader #yeah thats it #sorry no silly tags here guys #im tired #python333

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moody-alcoholic · 1 month

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Special Delivery Service

Chapter 10 - The Bomb

Summary: Simon x Reader, 4.1k words. The aftermath of a terrorist attack that has injured your brother who is now fighting for his life in hospital. 141 are asked to come back to active duty to chase down those responsible and you're stuck in the middle.

CW: +18 MDNI, explicit content. Mentions of fictional terrorist attack, terrorism, medical stuff, medical inaccuracies, descriptions of injures, mentions of brain death, mourning, death, bedside vigils, angst, lots of hurt/ comfort, military inaccuracies, bombs, use of weapons, kissing, attempt to use sex as a distraction.

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Enjoy <3

You don’t remember much about the flight back to the UK. It was when you got to Heathrow airport you started paying attention to what was going on. Your mother had messaged you what hospital your brother was being transported too. She hadn't told you much else.

“Let’s get home.” Simon says coming up behind you.

“I want to see my brother.” You say your eyes puffy from tears. Your head sore, apparently flying with blocked sinuses from crying was not a good idea. You’re ears haven’t popped yet, not that you really care. All you care about is seeing your brother. You look up at Simon as he runs his fingers through is hair. You’re pretty sure the last place he wants you to be is central London.

“Soap!” Simon calls and Johnny comes skipping over.

“Take her to the hospital stay with her till I get back.” Johnny raises an eyebrow but nods anyway. You don’t want to argue with Simon you don’t have the energy. You follow Johnny looking behind you to see Simon walk back towards John. Johnny tries to make conversation with you you don’t listen. When he asks you questions you just grunt in reply. He pulls the car up at the drop off zone outside the main entrance of the hospital. There are media everywhere.

“You don’t have to stay.” You say to Johnny as you step out the car.

“It’s not a problem lass, I’ll park up and meet you in there.” He says. You nod at him closing the door. You make your way through to the main entrance checking your phone for the ward. It’s busy there is a meeting set up for new people to come and see if their loved ones have survived. You walk over to the lift.

“Hey!” Someone calls over to you. You turn to see an older looking woman wearing a red cross vest. “Sorry no one is allowed through, are you staff?” You freeze almost saying yes, but you shake your head instead. She walks over to you with a clipboard.

“Do you have a name?” You look at the woman wide eyed feeling tears threatening to spill again. Your mouth is just hanging open. You look round at the crowd of people looking over the table being manned by other red cross volunteers.

You don’t know what to say as you back away from her clutching your phone. You stand there wrapping your arms around your body, feeling a chill in the air. You want to get to him you have the ward and room he’s in you just want to get there. You don’t want to be round all these people. You feel Johnny come up behind you he makes you jump placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You okay lass?” He asks. You turn to see him.

“They won’t let me through.” You say your voice catching in your throat. Johnny looks past you patting his jacket.

“C’mon.” He says taking something out and grabbing your wrist pulling you over to the lifts.

“Hey! I’m sorry.” The same red cross lady from before runs over. Johnny shows her whatever he pulled out his pocket.

“We’re allowed through.” He says his voice filled with authority. It makes you stop in your tracks.

“I’m sorry sir, I think all the army is meeting downstairs.” She says.

“I know but we’re needed elsewhere.” He says dragging you over to call for a lift.

“Army?” You ask bewildered. He passes you the card. You see it says captain John Price. A smile creeps on your lips.

“Nicked it from Price when we quit.” He says leading you into a lift. You press the button to the right floor handing the card back to Johnny. You follow the signs to the ICU, the whole place is busy. It’s a hospital but it feels busier then usual.

You walk into the ward looking in each cubical for your brother. You see your mum first. Sitting next to his bed holding his hand. You rush in wrapping your arms around her as she sobs. Johnny stayed stood in the entrance of the cubical.

Things went back into a blur. You listened to what your mum was saying even though you didn’t understand anything. He has burns to his face and arms, he was close to the blast from what your mother was telling you. You pull a chair up on the other side of the bed and gripped his hand, his bandage wrapped hand. You look up at his face. He's pale with tubes and wires sticking out his throat and body.

It's your little brother, he looks younger for some reason, his hair is shorter then you remember. It's a Friday night, he was probably going out with friends from uni. Now he's in a hospital bed fighting for his life. The tears come thick and fast, you try not to make a sound not wanting to set your mother off. You scoot your chair up to his face and whisper in his ear.

"I love you Dylan, you're going to be okay." You squeeze his hand. You try so hard to believe it, he's going to be okay, he's going to make it.

——————————

You wake to Simon, laying his hand on your shoulder. You snap up turning to look at him. Your mother is gone. You can’t tell if anything has changed the machines are still beeping.

“Where’s my mum?” You ask.

“She left a bit ago.” Simon says. You feel drained looking over at your brother. Simon sits next to you.

“What time is it?” You ask, it was late when you arrived here. There are no windows on the ward.

“Don’t worry about that, you need to rest, let me take you home.” Simon says his hand resting on your thigh.

“I want to stay.” You say gripping your brothers hand. You’re too tired to cry too worried to care. You look up at your brothers face. You can’t tell if he looks better or not. The nurses come in now and again to change his dressings. They don’t give you updates, when you ask they say the doctor will meet with you soon.

Your mum will have gone home to feed the cats, get some things from Dylan's room. You feel bad you should be doing something other then sitting here holding his hand hoping he’ll wake up. What is he even going to look like with all the burns he has.

“At least let me get you something to eat.” Simon says you turn to look at him as he squeezes your thigh. You don’t want to eat you don’t want to do anything. You nod though hoping it will make him happy. He leans over and kisses your cheek getting up off the chair and leaving the room.

You want him to stay, it was nice having him by your side. You look back up at your brother stroking his hand. There is a knock at the door and your name is called you look up to see what you assume is a doctor, you nod at him. He’s holing a clipboard in his hands.

“I’m doctor Stuart the intensive care consultant. I was wondering if we could have a word.” He says, he has that look on his face, the one like he’s about to spill the worst news ever. You nod and he pulls the chair up next to you.

“I spoke to your mum this morning before she went home. Your brother is unfortunately very sick.” He has kind eyes, tired eyes he reminds you of John.

“We were waiting for the results to come through from his second MRI, and there has been some bleeding in his brain.” He continues pausing to make sure you’re following. You swallow hard feeling sick.

“We believe that the injuries he sustained from the blast were unfortunately fatal. I am very sorry but we cannot detect any brain activity.” He says. You don’t believe him, you brother just looks like he’s sleeping. You can see his chest rising and falling, he’s breathing.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“It means that we don’t think he’s ever going to wake up.” The doctor says, you look down at the clipboard in his hands. He pulls an envelope off.

“There’s a chance he could wake up right? I’ve seen it in the news before. Someone they thought would never wake up, wakes up.” You say squeezing your brothers hand. He’s still warm, there is still blood pumping through his body he’s alive.

“I’m sorry but we don’t believe there is a chance he could wake up, he sustained life threatening injuries form the explosion. He had lost a lot of blood and unfortunately his brain was without oxygen for a significant amount of time.” The doctor explains calm and slow looking in your eyes making sure you understand. You don’t understand though.

“We have to discus how you would like treatment to continue if you choose to do that. Other wise we can discus the processes of removing the vent that is keeping him breathing.”

“You should speak to my mum.” You say sniffing.

“He has declared you medical power of attorney.” The doctor says handing you the envelope. You frown opening the letter, it’s your brothers will. There it is in black and white.

‘Should the time come that it is necessary for decisions to be made regarding the continuation of treatment in the case of brain death. I give full and complete responsibility to my sister..’

You stop reading you feel the pit come back in your stomach.

“I can give you some time to think, there are nurses around if you have any questions. Would you like the chaplain to come and see you?” He asks as you squeeze the letter in your hands. You’re not religious, nether is your brother, your mum would want them to come though. You nod.

“I will be back for ward round tomorrow but in the mean time if you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask.” You hear him get up. There’s tears again, your eyes are raw your head thumping. The next noise you hear is Simon coming back. He’s bought a sandwich and some water. You can’t stomach that now.

“What’s wrong?” He asks sitting down in the chair the doctor occupied a few minutes earlier. You pass him the letter.

“They say it’s brain death.” Is all you manage before you’re sobbing in your hands again. Simon’s arms wrap round you pulling you up to his chest. He kisses your head shushing you. You’re exhausted and now you need to make the decision to kill your brother or not.

You mind goes back to thinking about Paris, the people who broke into the rental house, were they involved in this. You should have killed them. Then maybe your brother would be okay. Your little brother who had done no wrong in the world. You feel anger build up inside you. You were in the same room as the people who did this to him.

“Simon.” You say sniffing in his chest.

“Yeah.” He says rubbing your back.

“The people who did this you’re going to get them right?” You say through sobs.

“‘Cause we are.” He says. You don’t know if you believe it or not but it's what you need to hear. You close your eyes breathing him in, he smells of cigarettes.

——————————

It’s raining as Ghost steps out the back of the army truck. So much for being retired, Price was having to fight off calls as soon as they landed in the UK. He knew staying in reserves was a bad idea. Now they had some general breathing down their necks, making sure they did a good job.

“Captain!” Someone shouts. Ghost looks over to see a police officer walking over. Price comes to stand next to Ghost holding his hand out for the officer.

“We heard there would be a specialist team coming.” He says introducing himself and shaking price’s hand. Everyone follow’s him as he explain what happened during the raid. They had intel this house was one of many safe houses the terrorists were using only when they raided it they found bomb making facilities.

“I’m surprised the whole street hasn’t gone up yet.” The officer says scoffing as he leads everyone inside. It looks like a normal house from the outside but the whole place has been turned on it’s head inside. Tables and drapes, the whole place stinks of plastic explosives, fuel and gunpowder. It’s not a house it’s a factory.

“Have you evacuated the street?” Price asks the officer.

“A two street radius.” The officer confirms.

“Gaz lets clear the top floors, Soap let’s get this place secure, stick with him LT. You should clear your officers out of here, let us work.” Price says. Soap pushes past Ghost going over to a table of devices poking at them with wire cutters. Ghost hears the officer protest, something about securing evidence.

“Can’t secure anything if you’re dead.” Price says, it makes Ghost smile. The officer relents and orders the officers mulling around the place taking photos to leave. Price nods at Ghost as he heads up the stairs with Gaz.

“How’s she doing?” Soap asks as he walks over to a table.

“Focus on the job Soap.” Ghost replies, he’s not in the mood to talk about you.

“I’m sorry about her brother.” He says looking up at him. Ghost crosses his arms. He can’t worry about you now, he’s got a job to do.

“This place is a mess.” Soap says as he looks over the tables covered in wires and what looks like work in progress IED’s. There are vests with plastic explosives already shoved in them. It doesn't look like anything is finished though all work in progress. Ghost besides to walk round the room in the other direction.

He comes to a table with papers and a computer, he starts thumbing through them as he looks for anything important. A lot of it is in Arabic, his speaking Arabic is rusty enough never mind his reading skills. He looks for anything that sticks out. There is a map of the London underground with a highlighted route, and an X. He recognises it as the station that was bombed. 50 people were killed, the number of injured keeps increasing. It’ll be 51 soon. He shakes his head pushing the thought away.

“Got a live one here Soap.” Gaz’s voice comes though his earpiece.

“Copy.” Soap replies heading for the staircase. Ghost stays on the lower floor checking through the rest of the documents. The police will take all this, or more likely MI5 will. They would know what everything says eventually as soon as they’ve been translated. He looks up as Price comes down the steps.

“They’ll finish clearing, only one room left.” He says, Ghost nods. Suddenly there’s a muffled crashing noise. Ghost’s hands grip his weapon bringing it up his body twisting in the direction of the noise.

Price is by his side as they make there way in that direction. The wall looks flush but the noise definitely came from behind it. Price steps forward lowing his weapon and pressing on the wall, it bends in oh-so-slightly. There’s something hidden back there.

“Soap sitrep?” Ghost asks into his mic.

“Disarmed, we’re finishing clearing the floor.”

“Cancel that, both of you get down here.” Price says.

“Copy.” Soap says. It doesn’t take long before they’re standing next to Ghost. Price is still trying to find a way to get the secret entrance open. Gaz and Soap raise their weapons realising the situation.

“Gaz, keep our six clear.” Ghost says. There could be more hidden places the last thing they need is someone sneaking up behind them. Price presses on a part of the call and there is a click, the wall popping out slightly. Simon clicks the safety off his weapon, he hears Soap and Price so the same. Price looks back nodding at them, they nod back. Ghost holds his breath as Price pulls the door open.

There’s two people, unarmed, a man and a woman. Next comes the shouting, the shoving ‘hands in the air!” Get down on the floor!’ The sound of zip ties, Ghost keeps his weapon trained on them as Price and Soap pull their hands behind their backs. It’s all too familiar, although this feels strangely personal now. These could be the very people responsible for the attack. Ghost switches with Price as he calls the officers back to arrest them.

“We thought the house had been abandoned, we knew they would be tipped off.” The officer in charge says as SWAT rush into the building. He seems happy they have someone they can question now. Ghost is surprised they found any one, any one alive at least.

Price looks over at him, he knows that look. If this was a different circumstance they would be the ones to do the questioning not the Met. He comes over putting his hand on Ghost’s shoulder, squeezing it. He must be able to see something, Price is good at reading his expression through the mask, Ghost blinks at him.

“Lets sweep the place again!” Price calls moving his hand, turning to the officers. Ghost watches as the people are lead out the house. He clicks the safely back on his weapon, he’ll get his chance. He knows he will.

——————————

You’ve lost track of time, it was dark when you made it to the hospital and it’s dark when you leave. Simon said he had to work at some point. You still had the letter you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to telling your mum about it. You would need to though at some point they would need an answer. He is taking up a bed in ICU after all.

You don’t want to make the decision. You understood it though. If it was your mums decision, she would choose to continue treatment, have him moved to one of those hospices that care for people in his situation. She would never be able to do it, it makes sense Dylan is her son, no mother should ever have to make this choice.

Dylan knew that, that’s why he left it to you, he hoped you would be able to make the horrible choice. You got a taxi back to your place, you wanted to change at least. Get into something more comfortable to stay at the hospital in. When you walk into your flat you almost jump at the sight of Simon popping his head out the kitchen. You drop your keys shutting the door behind you.

“I’m sorry.” He says coming over to you. “I thought I would do some cleaning in case you decided to come back.” You nod as he picks your keys up. You wrap your arms around him. He smells clean, a hint of fuel. His arms wrap round your back as you breathe him in. You don’t want to cry again you can’t. Maybe you can just forget about your brother for a few minutes, you need a distraction.

You break away a little looking up at him planting your lips on his. You kiss him hard, wet and sloppy, too much tongue, not a normal kiss. Anything to quiet your mind, focus on something else. You push your hands up his top, feeling each muscle and scar, your nails digging into his skin. He tries to say something but you kiss him harder forcing him to pull his head up as you stand up on your toes.

“Baby-” He tries to says between kissing. You shake your head trying to stop him, forcing your tongue deeper in his mouth. It’s not working you need something more, more touching. The uncomfortable touching that makes you shake, at least it will be a distraction from everything going on. You need something else to be on your mind then your soon-to-be dead brother in the hospital.

You pull your hands off him reaching round and grabbing his wrists, forcing his hands up your shirt. His hands brush your breasts and it makes you shiver. A pit of fear pooling in your stomach. That’s what you need, your heart starts racing. You’re not thinking you fall into the familiar feeling letting it overpower you.

You haven’t even registered the fact that Simon’s hands have left your body as he pulls away from the kiss, moving his mouth away so you can’t reach him. You look up at him feeling hot tears fall down your cheeks. He looks sad, his hand comes to your cheek brushing the tear away. It hurts, your eyes and cheeks still raw from crying.

“I-I can’t.” You say, you don’t know what to say.

“I know, I know baby.” He says holding you away from him. He bends down kissing you softly on the lips.

“You’re grieving, you’re exhausted.” He says as a matter of fact, his voice low. You look up at him all you can do is nod.

“How about a shower and then some sleep.” He says waiting for your reaction.

“I need to be with him.” You say your voice catching in your throat.

“You need to rest, you’re no good to anyone like this.” He says, you know he’s right but you don’t care. You don’t want to sleep, you don’t want to have to wake up and face it all. You close your eyes taking a breath.

“Stay.” You say to him opening your eyes.

“‘Cause, I’ll stay,” he says pulling you back into his arms. Things happen in slow motion, or at least that’s what it feels like. Simon brings you some PJ’s and you go for a shower while he says he will cook you something. You take a long time in the shower, a hot shower letting the hot water burn your back. Your mind fixates on your brothers burns, his face and arm covered in them.

It’s Simon knocking on the door that drags you back into reality. You get out the shower drying yourself off and changing. When you walk out the bathroom Simon leads you over to the kitchen table. You see a bowl of soup on the table. He must have been shopping there’s fresh bread too. You’re not hungry but you sit down anyway, if just to make him happy. You didn’t eat the sandwich he bought you at the hospital giving it to your mum instead, reminding her of the importance of eating. You watch as he cuts some bread up for you.

“Come on, a few spoons at least.” He says. You reach out taking the bread and dipping it in the soup, cream of tomato. It makes you think of being sick as a kid. You nibble on the bread, as soon as you’ve had one mouthful your stomach grumbles and you realised how hungry you actually are. Simon stays by your side rubbing your back as you sip on the soup nibbling on clumps of bread.

You’re only halfway through though when you feel full. Simon sighs but accepts it, at least you’ve eaten something. He kisses you on the forehead finishing off the rest as you sit in silence. When he’s done he takes you to bed. You’re not tired you just feel numb you lay down and he gets in behind you wrapping his arms and legs around you. He’s warm and you can feel his heart beating as his chest presses up against your back. It feels good being in his arms, it feels safe and right.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay if I call you my boyfriend?” You ask relaxing into him.

“Of course.” He replies kissing your head. You can feel the smile as he squeezes you.

“I love you.” You say closing your eyes.

“I love you too, get some sleep, I’ll be here.” He says breathing into your neck. You feel him leave little kisses, his hand stroking your arm. You try to relax matching your breathing with his, despite you not feeling tired it doesn’t take you long before you’re asleep.

When you wake it’s light out, Simon is softly snoring behind you. You turn in the bed so you’re facing him which causes him to wake.

He blinks slowly waking up his hand coming up to stroke your face. You don’t say anything you just look at him, soaking in his face. His hand is soft on your cheek the pressure is nice. It makes you smile, it feels like the first smile in days. For a few blissful moments you’re not thinking about your brother, or the hospital, or the fact that he’s going to die today. You’re just enjoying a few moments with your boyfriend. He smiles back at you and leans in planting a kiss on your lips. Then the moment is gone and you remember what you have to do.

“My brother’s going to die today.” You say. He nods, his hand still brushing your cheek.

“I want you to be there.” You say, you need him to be there, you need his support.

“I will, whatever you need I’ll be there.” He says. You nod reaching over and kissing him on the lips. You watch him for a second trying to read his expression, his beautiful caramel eyes glowing in the sunlight. You wish you didn’t have to do this you wish you could stay here forever. Instead you force yourself to turn away and get out of bed.

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#call of duty #fanfic #cod #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #simon ghost riley #john price #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #cod 141

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momobani · 1 year

Text

Wilson!

THE WAY I hate YOU - Chapter 3 - 16.3k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: most people would die to stay in their honeymoon phase, you on the other hand might die from being in the honeymoon phase.

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, mention of food and alcohol, Nicholas (i feel like his existence is a warning in this one, you’ll see what i mean), mentions of sex

Soundtrack rec: Hold Me Tight or Don’t - Fall Out Boy

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o

A/N: i personally was having a delightful time writing some of this, like more than usual lol that i went overboard with the word count, i hope you enjoy it too <3 (again ft some fun cameos! don’t take it seriously lmao)

This is so not how you had imagined spending your Friday night.

The hot pot machine bubbled quietly in the middle of the table while you tried to simultaneously pay attention to what Nicholas was saying and fight a piece of meat that just kept disappearing below the surface of the broth.

“So, what do you think?” Nicholas concludes. He’d just finished his side of the debate on which apartment you should choose to live in. The two of you had been meeting to organise your lives and had finally come to make a decision for where you’ll live.

You finally manage to snag that piece of meat and bring it to your plate quickly.

“Well, I agree about how much nicer it would be to have a laundry room but I’m not too hot on the location.” you reply.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “The location is perfect!”

“What’s so perfect about it?” you inquire, looking down at the tablet between you. The map just showed it was some distance away from your current apartments, although closer to the supermarket you went to and the boba cafe you liked.

“It’s pretty central to where we need to go,” he says, flicking through the photos again. “and there’sabasketballcourtafewblocksaway.” he speedily finishes. The slew of words don’t quite hit your ears in real time and your eyebrows scrunch together as you try to decipher what your husband just said.

“There’s a what?” you ask.

“And there’s a park so nature, yay!” he grins, trying to move on but you weren’t born yesterday. You raise an eyebrow combatively - he either tells you or you’ll veto this entirely. Nicholas sighs. “There’s a basketball court nearby and it’d be nice to play with my friends. Happy now?”

“What really is happiness?” you hum in thought, avoiding sinking into a philosophical blackhole, instead thinking about his revelation about the court and to some extent, the park. It might be a way to get Maki to come over to yours and hang out - you barely got to see him lately and you wanted to see how he was doing.

“Hey, save the existential crisis for later and tell me if I can play basketball or not.” Nicholas pouts over a piece of tofu puff.

“I’m not about to choose an apartment based on that. Give me better reasons.” you shrug, coming down with a verdict that you were sure Nicholas wouldn’t like, but you weren’t about to just indulge him.

“Okay, let’s review; our own laundry room, underground parking, central location,” he lists, taking a moment to think between each one. “reasonable mortgage - hmm?” he wriggles his eyebrows the way you think those old school teleshopping people would but right now it feels more like the way a shady conman might. “Oh, and the park and the court.”

You purse your lips, weighing up the pros and cons. The place you’d chosen had some of the same perks - in terms of parking and location but there was no laundry room, just a machine in the kitchen and you didn’t love that. You mentally added the boba place to Nicholas’ list and the possibility of persuading your little brother to visit you so he wouldn’t forget you exist.

Unfortunately, it made logical sense to pick the place with more perks and better price for value, but the whole thing sounded like Nicholas was fishing for a way to avoid you at home.

On second thought, maybe that’s how you should consider it - it might give you opportunities to be independent of each other and not be constantly stuck together. You clear your throat and munch on a piece of rice cake for a moment.

“Fine, let’s take that one. I like doing laundry.” you say whatever nonsense that comes to mind. Nicholas is suddenly far too happy to pay attention to details.

“Really?” his eyes are wide in surprise. “Okay, we better move fast then. I’ll send them an interest inquiry right now.” he forgets about the food and starts tinkering away on securing the apartment for you.

You watch him, busy hands and roaming eyes. He pushes up the sleeves of his olive shirt - a comfy and clearly beloved cozy sweater - and focuses. You notice the details of his existence; his tense forearms, the tongue that swipes across his lips unconsciously, and the chain that hangs around his muscular neck.

Sometimes it was hard to understand that you weren’t really strangers any more.

You’d been married for two weeks already and had been seeing a lot more of each other than you thought you would before you lived together. There’d been several family and business dinners that had needed your presence but you went to each other’s places to eat occasionally while you looked at new apartments or planned your move.

So much for strangers.

Nicholas was your husband now and you were his wife. It had already happened and you just needed to get used to it.

“YN?” you snap out of it, realising that you’d been spacing out while looking in his direction so he probably thought you were staring at him.

“Yeah?”

He gives you a once over and goes back to his tapping on the screen. “Nothing, just checking you were still breathing.”

“I am.” you confirm, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. “See?”

“Yeha.” Nicholas barely responds because he seems to have made progress on the inquiry. “And done. We should hear from them soon.” he smiles, pretty proud of himself.

“Cool. Now we just have to somehow pack up our lives and smush them together in one place.” you say.

“Don’t stress, it’ll be fine.” Nicholas says dismissively, getting back to his meal.

“Let’s hope so.” you mumble and do the same.

You had lived by yourself for a little while now, so living with someone else again all of a sudden was going to be a bit of shock to your system.

The two of you had agreed to have your own rooms and your own space within the apartment, essentially cohabiting like roommates because nowhere did it say in any document you actually had to sleep in the same bed like a married couple would.

You were married legally and in name only, as far as you were concerned.

You drew up rules to keep the peace, basic things like keeping it clean, respecting each other’s space, and minding your own business, but you weren’t too worried about it. You were a great roommate, even if you did say so yourself.

The apartment was secured over the weekend and you were free to move in from the following Thursday onwards.

Several days later, your apartment was all packed up except for the bare minimum living essentials, which would come with you later. You helped the movers put your stuff in their van, telling them that they’ll meet your husband at the apartment while you hung back and sorted things out there.

It’s sluggish to put the last few items in a box and double check your suitcase. You get a text from Nicholas that the movers have finished and are away already and you realise you’re moving slowly subconsciously; you didn’t want to leave yet.

You didn’t want to accept that you weren’t going to be the way you were any more.

There was an echo of your footsteps that resonated through your now empty apartment, the space far too barren for your liking. In some ways you were glad, because you’d been able to negotiate which of your furniture you would keep and which you had to sell on since you had no need for it.

Your precious couch and coffee table had survived and you were taking it with you, whereas Nicholas was bringing the dining table and chairs from his place with your somewhat enthusiastic approval. (The dining table was tastefully furniture to die for.) Your bedroom stuff had survived for the most part since you weren’t going to share any of it, but apart from that, you had to sell several things.

You looked over your shoulder one last time at what used to be your place, before closing the door with a quiet click for the last time. It felt solemn; like the end of an era, so of course you were feeling a little sentimental.

The drive to your new apartment was marred by heavy rain pouring down, the forecast for sunny clear skies completely wrong, so you drove slowly, putting on a sad ballad to match the mood. You were going to miss that place; it was somewhere you’d learned a lot about yourself, had your real taste of independence in and one that you cherished a lot.

You get to your new front door, apartment 520* mounted in pretty gold letters against the dark emerald lacquer of the door.

It felt like a betrayal when you entered the passcode for the first time and opened the door.

“Surprise!” you heard a yell as soon as stepped into the hallway. You jump slightly, suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. “Hey, roomie!”

Nicholas was standing there grinning, all alone, blowing one of those annoyingly brightly coloured party blowers. The noise scratched a very specific part of your brain, and not in a good way. You moved to shove your shoes off.

“Not exactly a surprise since we agreed to live here together, but okay.” you say shrugging and drag your suitcase into the corridor.

“I guess,” Nicholas says. “but I just wanted to get one of these.” he holds up the party blower.

“Great.” you move past him and look around for your furniture. You spot the stuff in your room and your couch is deposited randomly with your coffee table but what surprises you is that Nicholas’ stuff isn’t here yet. “Did something happen to the dining table, or?” you ask.

“Ah,” he hums, thinking for a moment. “well, I’ve still got a few things to move since I was using Fuma’s van and it didn’t fit everything, so I sort of sacrificed the table. Sorry.” he finishes sheepishly. “Besides, isn’t it classic to eat on the floor the first night you move in somewhere new?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a thing or not, I guess we’re doing it on the floor.” you say.

“Huh?” Nicholas seems startled for a moment. “Doing what?”

“Eating, duh.” you say. You wonder why that would have confused him; surely he wasn’t thinking you two were going to- oh my god, did he? No, you were just tired and imagining stupid things. You shake your head, “Whatever. I’m ordering. What do you want to eat?”

And so you did eat on the floor on your first night in your new apartment, ignoring the perfectly good couch and sitting on a random blanket like an indoor picnic.

It wasn’t all bad but there was a certain awkwardness being there, a little like the first time you’d met Nicholas. You just hoped you could get used to the apartment like you were getting used to him.

“No. I simply refuse.” you state as you stir your morning coffee. Nicholas sighs deeply, hunching over the kitchen counter.

“But it’s a really good deal! We should go.” he argues. Instead of a debater, he sounds more like a kid trying to convince their parents to do something. You shook your head.

“I have things to do, you go if you really want to.” you say. Nicholas looks dubious - it’s the first time you’ve seen that expression on his face.

“Mrs Wang-” you’re about to interject at the name calling but he doesn’t let you. “did you just tell me- your husband- to go on our honeymoon alone?” he asks, scepticism rising with every syllable.

“You’re right. That sounds pathetic.” you concede. “Go with your friends. Make it a dude-bro-cation. Take Jo and Euijoo and…” you think hard, trying to remember names. “Fuma!” you snap your fingers, having remembered another one of Nicholas’ friends.

“Don’t hurt yourself if you don’t know.” he says sarcastically.

“Hey! I met them one time,” you can’t help the defensive pout that you feel like came out. “and you have a lot of friends.” you mutter.

“Not the point, YN. I’m not going without you.” Nicholas says. “This is practically a direct order from management, a.k.a the parents! And they’re offering to pay for everything.”

You sip your coffee, thinking.

Your parents had dropped this bomb on you last night, telling you to go on a honeymoon while you were having dinner at your parents’ house. Both sides offered to pay for everything like they did with the wedding and call it a honeymoon for the two of you.

It sounded fair enough.

You just didn’t feel like going though.

You could go on vacation whenever you wanted to - you made enough money by yourself that you could splurge - but going now and officially calling it a honeymoon? It felt silly, like the cherry on top of this whole crazy arranged marriage business.

“It’s just a vacation, why make it sound so - I don’t know.” you think out loud.

“YN, please don’t make me beg you.” Nicholas’ shoulders slumped. “It’s a free vacation, for crying out loud! Who says no to that?”

I would, you thought. You didn’t know what the situation in Nicholas’ office was, but in your office, department, part of hell, whatever you wanted to call it, you had to stick around if you didn’t want to be left behind or get your ass grilled by everyone else.

You were already scrutinised enough for being the boss’ kid, but disappearing to go on a holiday with your husband just when the merger was really getting underway? You would get roasted con fuoco.

“You know what, I will beg,” Nicholas resolves, getting up. “I’m getting on my knees, I’m not above begging.” he announces before sliding off his slippers. It’s almost comical and you think he’s joking but he starts to bend down.

“Okay!” you exclaim, putting a stop to his buffoonery. “We’ll go on our stupid honeymoon.”

You decided that whatever happened at work was better than having to hear him begging and bugging you about going until you agreed.

“That’s more like it.” he stands up straight, grinning. “I’m no fancy lawyer, but I know how to win in these situations.”

“You sure do, but do you ever think you’ll win your dignity back?” you say to him before leaving for your room. You leave him gapping after you in your kitchen.

“Who needs dignity? I’m going on vacation!” Nicholas calls after you, just before you close the door.

The PA system crackles overhead and you fasten your seatbelt, getting ready for takeoff.

Nicholas sits besides you, neck pillow already in place, as well as a fuzzy wolf sleeping mask placed over his forehead, the image of a travel diva personified in your husband. Of course he would be so extra for like a three hour flight.

You ignored him while you got comfy, pulling on your cardigan when they started to blast the AC down on you.

“So, how remote is this island anyway?” Nicholas asks, sending one last text before switching his pone to flight mode. You pause to remember details on what you’d read.

“Hmm, I’d say a lot. Something about limited signal and wifi.” you answer, shrugging. You’d fought tooth and nail about where you were going on vacation- no, honeymoon- and you’d compromised on the island since it had a beach, which is one thing you both wanted.

Suddenly the air around you swishes. Nicholas whips around to look at you, desperate.

“Are you sure about that?” he says with all but the zest of John Cena’s original delivery.

“Yes,” you say, silently edging away from him. “there’s this thing called ‘research’, ever heard of it?”

“Don’t patronise me.” Nicholas pouts, sitting back. You crack a smile.

“Ooh, big word for wittle Nichowas.” you chuckle, starting to think this vacation might actually be a good idea. You were going to watch your city-boy husband practically lose his mind in the jungle; it was going to be great.

“Can’t you speak nicely?”

“No.” you say.

“You are so incredibly frigid.” he shoots back.

“Aha, I was born this way.” you take the opportunity to reach a quick hand and pull the fuzzy sleeping mask over his nose and mouth, snapping it lightly. He splutters slightly as he fights the wolf off his face.

“Do you have a sarcastic reply to everything?” he huffs, putting the mask back in its place before you decided to redecorate his accessories.

“Probably. Guess we’ll find out.” you hum, reaching into your pocket for chewing gum. You take a piece out then offer the pack to Nicholas, who also takes a piece in the most begrudging way. You smile to yourself, chewing as the plane takes off.

This was going to be interesting.

Upon arriving, you felt two things:

Firstly, the sweet smell of not answering work emails for ten days, and secondly, the colossal, mind-melting, soul-snatching humidity. It was horrific. As if you could practically taste it if you stuck your tongue out (you didn’t, though it crossed your mind).

You’d shed your cardigan, stuffing it into your carry-on bag and Nicholas had unbuttoned one more of his shirt’s top buttons.

You make it out of the tiny airport, if you could call it that and not a helipad, and follow the signs to the shuttle bus that would take you to resort where your hotel was.

After getting off the bus, your clothes sticking to your skin from the heat, you finally see the hotel up a short path. There was a lot of what you presumed was jungle or rainforest just outside the resort and it loomed majestically overhead behind the light chainlink fence that seemed to be placed there just for the thought of having it.

“I could totally run away and live off the land, Robinson Crusoe style.” You muttered to yourself.

“What?”

“Intrusive thought. Nevermind.” you snapped out of it, continuing to walk.

“Oh god,” Nicholas groaned miserably. “this island is literally in the middle of ass fuck nowhere!”

You didn’t know what he was whining about, you’d both picked this place. “Your point?”

“We’re completely marooned - there’s like no signal, no wifi…” he complains while hoisting his phone up in the air as if it was the Lion King.

“Don’t tell me you were actually planning on spending your vacation just watching TV in your room all day?” you throw a semi-judgmental glance at your husband over your shoulder.

Nicholas pockets his phone silently and adjusts his shirt slightly from sticking to his body. You side-eye a couple of girlies that walk past you and gawk at Nicholas, obviously staring at the way the white fabric outlined the defined lines of his torso. You ignore the image and bulldoze forward to the hotel’s entrance.

“Well, not all day, but now I can’t do it at all.” he says, disappointment evident in his voice.

“Boo-hoo, the whole point of vacation is to chill. You can still do that perfectly fine.” you point out.

“I like chilling,” he huffs. “Netflix and chilling, but now there’s no Netflix. Do you not see this may be the end of humanity as we know it?” he asks dramatically, eyes wider than a conspiracy theorist’s.

“Hmm, not quite the crisis you imagine.” you reply. “Fortunately, there are these magical things - books - which have survived many millennia, and they seemed to have worked just fine for our ancestors.”

“So what I’m hearing is, our vacation is, in fact, doomed.” Nicholas states as you walk into the hotel lobby, breathing in that delicious, stale air-conditioned air. You stop to bask in its coolness, breathing out in relief.

“Your vacation,” you correct. “I’ll be paying my respects to my ancestors by reading.”

“Ugh, well we can’t stay here. What are we going to do for ten days?” Nicholas asks. You wonder if he even heard what you said, but in his current state, you somehow doubted it.

“You got a better idea?” you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll build a raft, we can swim off the island.” he suggests. You’re about to lay down the most sarcastic, hard line of the century but the sound of thunder rumbling stops you.

It was the loudest rumble you’d ever heard in your life and you suspected the lightning that preceded it might have struck not even several meters out of the door you’d momentarily walked through. The thought almost made you faint.

“If you walk out of that door, Nicholas, so help me god.” you warn, wheeling your suitcase further into the building and away from the windows.

“Noted.” he replies sheepishly, following your lead away from the windows, almost scrambling after you.

Needless to say, it starts pouring torrential rain after that and while you check in, you can see the rain drops hammering violently on the window panes behind the concierge desk.

The lady there hands you a small card holder, telling you the keys are inside and you can’t really hear much else of what she says to you but it sounds like the standard if-you-need-anything-ring-the-phone mumbo jumbo so you thank her and go.

Little did you know, she’d warned you.

You get up to the correct floor in search of your rooms, looking around while you navigate the soft-carpeted hallways.

“One four three.” you mumble, trying to find the right number. You stop at the end of a corridor and take out the key card. You buzz the door open and push it forward. “Wait a minute-” you walk in several steps and circle back, thinking you’re losing your mind.

“What is it?” Nicholas walks in, relaxed pulling in both of your suitcases.

“I think there must be a mistake,” you say. “The suite only has one room. I thought we’d asked for two?”

“Really?” Nicholas takes a few steps in, sweeping his eyes over the place and sure enough there is only one room. “That’s weird. Let me check with Jun-ge, he’s the one that booked our honeymoon.” Nicholas fumbles around with his phone for a bit, trying to find a signal for a minute.

You vaguely remembered meeting Jun at your wedding; he was one of Nicholas’ big bro types at the company but you had no idea if he’d known about your marriage being arranged or not.

Nicholas finally gets the phone to ring and the line crackles when it’s picked up on the other end.

“Hello?” you hear Jun answer when Nicholas puts the phone on speaker. “Nicho, what’s up?”

“Hey, Jun-ge, quick question, do you remember booking our honeymoon suite?” he asks tentatively.

“Yeah, is something wrong?”

“Well, uh, we got here and it’s got just the one room, didn’t I put a note to find two rooms?”

“You wrote ‘honeymoon suite’ and that’s what I got.” Jun replies, obviously not sensing that that was what was wrong with the whole situation.

“Yes, Jun-ge, but I also wrote two rooms on the note, right?”

“Dude, two-room honeymoon suites don’t exist.” you can hear Jun chuckling on the other end of the line. You were starting to regret not booking the rooms yourself.

“Oh.” Nicholas says dumbly. “Okay, that’s cool, thanks Jun-ge.”

“Alright, kid, don’t have too much fun!” Jun laughs before hanging up. You look at Nicholas, attempting to hold your glare but you reckon it slips out regardless.

“You wrote what in the note?” you ask, voice steadily quiet.

“Two rooms.” Nicholas avoids your eyes and scratches the back of his neck, with the guiltiest look on his face.

“‘Honeymoon suite’!” you state, jogging his memory. “You couldn’t just leave that out, could you?”

“Yeah, my bad.” Nicholas admits.

“Right, well,” you walk into the actual bedroom part. There’s a super king sized bed that takes up most of the room, and it looks very comfortable. “I’ll gladiator fight you for the bed.”

“That’s not very civilised of you, YN.” he muses. “Rock, paper, scissors-” Nicholas thinks he can take you by surprise, yelling out RPS unexpectedly, but you throw out your hand as a reflex,

“Shoot!” you finish, giving him a paper to his rock. He groans at the loss.

“Best of three!”

You roll your eyes before playing again, throwing out scissors this time intuitively. Nicholas threw paper and then sunk to the ground.

“Hah!” you grinned at your victory. “You should have taken your chances in a fight, but I think I would have won that too.” you shrug, faux sympathy coating your voice. Karma’s a bitch, but so were you. “Enjoy sleeping in the bath.”

“Bath?” Nicholas snaps up and runs off to check.

Indeed, there was no couch in the suite, only a dinning room set up in the small living space, complete with a TV mounted to the wall and a grand bathroom that separated from the master bedroom. Besides a generously spacious shower cabin, there is a huge white bath in the middle of the bathroom, practically the size of a jacuzzi and though giant by nature, Nicholas would probably fit in it.

He comes back to find you getting comfortable sitting on the bed, legs crossed gloatfully as you watched your husband lose his mind and it was only day one.

“Fine. Be cruel. I’m fine. It’s fine.” he says, sounding less than convinced.

“Is it though?” you smirk, loving the way he’s trying to stomach the loss but failing.

“Yes. Totally. Fine.”

You don’t press it further but lie back on the bed, letting the mattress swallow you up. Vacation wasn’t so bad after all. You might not have Netflix, but you had a personal drama king right in front of you.

You didn’t get to do anything for the rest of the day since it was storming outside but you had dinner down at the restaurant and eventually went to bed, or in Nicholas’ case, to the bath.

The next morning, you wake up naturally, blissfully rested and stretch with all the grace of a cat. You slept like a rock on this gorgeous bed and you really had to thank Jun for booking this particular room.

You get up, quietly, and pad over to the bathroom, the door still closed. You pause, then knock on lightly. “Nicholas?” you ask.

There’s a sleepy groan on the other side of the door, and then a thud. You panic for a second.

“Hey, I’m coming in!” you warn and work the handle. You find Nicholas in the bath in his pyjamas, blanket half-thrown off and the pillow lying on the floor. That explains the thud. “You okay?”

“Hmm,” he grunts, eyes still closed. He shuffles slightly, pulling the blanket and curling up on his side.

“Alright, well, good morning to you too.” you mutter and leave.

A while later, a disheveled Nicholas emerges from the bathroom. It must have been the smell of coffee that got him moving because you’re about to drink your first and hopefully only cup of the day.

“About time, Sleeping Beauty.” you glance at him. You note he most certainly is not a happy ducky in the morning; there’s a deep frown on his face and his posture is giving an uncanny resemblance to a deflated balloon animal.

“Hmm.” he responds with another grunt. You weren’t sure when exactly, but some time between last night and this morning, your husband seems to have been replaced with a cave man. The two of you hadn’t crossed paths too often in the mornings, so it was kind of news to you to see him like this.

You sigh and put your coffee down, getting up to go to the pot and pour him a cup. Nicholas sits down stiffly in the opposite chair and you deposit it in front of him. Instead of trying to make conversation with a prehistoric species, you go back to your book, but you see he drinks the coffee.

Twenty minutes later, you swap the location and find yourselves downstairs having a late breakfast (you refused to call it brunch), munching on whatever to start your day.

Nicholas looks more like himself now, but you can sense the obvious discomfort from the way he keeps trying to massage his neck and shoulders discreetly, or stretches to try and work the muscle there. He’s wearing a loose fitting, linen button up and every move seems to expose a lot of skin but while you’re trying to ignore it, it doesn’t mean everyone else is.

People who are sitting at the neighbouring table are throwing occasional slightly suspicious glances. There are some not so discreet wives checking your husband out and not minding their own and even some pretty waitresses smiling as they pass by. You roll your eyes as one in particular can’t seem to look away as she brings you a plate of fruit.

“What?” Nicholas notices that you’re making a face. He himself seems to be oblivious on the other hand.

“Nothing. Eat your strawberries.” you say quickly, keeping a poker face. You could almost see the smug look that would appear on his face if you told him people were checking him out, so you stayed quiet.

“Right.”

Back upstairs, Nicholas perches on the vanity table on one side of the room while you rummage around in your suitcase looking for some clothes. You’re aware of how he’s shifting awkwardly and you stop and turn to him.

“I’m listening.” you state. Nicholas doesn’t say anything for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then the other side.

“Please can I sleep in the bed?” he asks finally.

“Hey, you lost fair and square.” you go back to looking for your swimsuit. Nicholas tilts his head.

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.” he hums.

“No.” you say for good measure. “Happy?”

“Not at all.” he replies. You think he’s going to give it a rest but then a second later he speaks again. “Fine, if I have to sleep in the bath, then give me a massage.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re here.” he says like it’s obvious. “Ooh, better yet, buy me medicine and rub it on my shoulders.” he smiles, hopeful. You knew what he was doing but despite that, it was working.

You scrunch your forehead, the idea less than appealing to you. You look from Nicholas to the bed, then to Nicholas again, weighing it up in your head. The bed was big enough, you were just going to have to stay on one side. You didn’t want to cause permanent damage after all. (It might scar you for life to massage medicine over his shoulders. And you guess it could do something to his posture or whatever.)

“Ugh,” you spit out. “alright. You can sleep on one side of the bed.” you specified. “I’m not giving you the whole thing.”

“Pleasure negotiating with you, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas grins and disappears before you can tell him off for the name calling.

You get dressed, slipping on your one piece swimsuit and throwing on some shorts, and take your book down to the pool. The weather had cleared up completely compared to yesterday’s torrential downpour and the sun is shining brightly. The pool itself is located in a slightly more sheltered area and it doesn’t look like there was any damage from the rain.

You smile to yourself and find a nice lounge chair to camp out at. You adjust your sunglasses and open your book again to continue where you’d left off.

“Are your ancestors proud of you yet?” you hear a voice ask before you feel a weight settle near your legs on the lounge chair. You don’t look up at Nicholas, before replying.

“I don’t know, maybe you should go ask them.” you retort.

“Oh, I will,” he says. “in like hopefully seventy to eighty years.”

You hum in response, not particularly feeling like playing along right now. Nicholas shuffles about, and you finally look up.

Big mistake.

You find him unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his frame. You blinked twice, trying to tear your eyes away from him.

“Look after this, please.” he says after a moment, indicating to his discarded shirt. It lay half folded next to your bare leg.

“Sure.” you mumbled. You watched as he threw you an acknowledging half smile and got up. You couldn’t help yourself for a moment; you stared after him.

It was ground breaking actually.

You’d not really given it much thought since your predicament was rather serious - life sentence married to a man you didn’t love and all that - but you had eyes and you noticed that your new husband was actually quite hot.

Who would have thought?

You clocked the well rounded muscle of his shoulders and back and his toned biceps, and though you avoided really looking (as in, you didn’t pull your shades down), the modest set of abs that graced his torso.

“How novel.” you observed out loud then went back to your book. You didn’t need to ogle at your husband; you weren’t a horny teenager any more. Moreover, this information changed nothing in your life whatsoever. You were still shackled together and sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

You hear your name being called some time later.

Putting your bookmark in place, you look up to find Nicholas resting on the edge of the pool, his arms crossed and chin resting on top.

“Yes?” you inquire, taking off your sunglasses to see him better.

“Can you help me get out?” he asks, looking a little shifty, glancing side to side but there’s no one in your immediate vicinity. Just some people down the other end. You figured it was probably lunch time so it was quiet.

“Huh?” you’re confused at the request.

“It’s the deep end. I’m tall, but I’m not that tall.” he admits sheepishly. You guess he must be embarrassed to ask you for help.

What doesn’t cross your mind is why a) he didn’t go to a shallower part of the pool, b) he didn’t cross to the opposite side and use the ladder!, or c) someone of his stature would struggle getting out of a pool.

You get up and walk to the edge, extending a hand to him. Nicholas takes your hand in his wet one and you start to pull.

Except you’re pulling but it’s not working. In fact, the world is suddenly tilting and you’re diving head first into the pool, gravity and Nicholas taking you in with him. You would have yelped but you close your mouth on instinct as you go down so you don’t get a mouthful of water.

The coolness of the water engulfs you suddenly and you struggle to orientate your way up to the surface again. You break through with an angry gasp for air.

“Wang Yixiang!” you sputter loudly, venom filling up your veins. You hear his laugh somewhere nearby and you wipe your eyes, trying to locate him. He’s a foot away, also drenched, wet hair hanging in his face but smiling widely.

“Here, Sergeant!” he gives you a silly salute and you start toward him, eyes full of vengeance.

“Come back,” you demand after he starts swimming away from you.

He’s not particularly fast and you manage to grab his hand and yank him back toward you. There’s a lot of water resistance but you’re adrenalised to you manage to get him to change direction.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be mad.” he says, well aware that today might be his last day as an alive person. You ignore him and do your best to try and dunk him. It doesn’t really work because he uses your strength against you and the two of you just spin around. You’re off balance and trying to just tread water even though here Nicholas could stand up, which was quite unfair. He stills suddenly. “Oh my god, look!”

“Not falling for that one, dude,” you say, thinking he was trying to distract you from trying to dunk him.

“No, really, two o’clock, it’s that man, uh, what did he do again?” Nicholas wracks his brain for a moment.

“My two o’clock or yours?” you realise he’s being serious and you think to check.

“Yours. The man with the moustache, we met him at the wedding.” You think back and try to place the description. You’re floating so you manoeuvre around to be able to glance in the right direction.

Sure enough you spot the person Nicholas was talking about. You saw him but he hadn’t spotted you yet.

“Shit, it’s the tyre guy.” you say.

“Right, that’s the one.” Nicholas agrees, as if the answer is now clear to him.

“You had no idea who that man was, did you?” you ask.

“Not a clue,” he admits. “I was grasping at straws. He seemed familiar.” And you realise that it had worked.

Yet, also it was that man; what was he doing here? Was he on vacation too? From what you remembered he was some business partner on your parents’ side. Your father had introduced you once before and then once at the wedding.

You freeze, forgetting to tread water.

Nicholas seems to notice you stop moving and grabs your waist, holding you up so you don’t start to sink. Your hands come up between you as a buffer and slap gently against his chest but you ignore what’s going on in front of you, deep in thought.

Why was he here of all places? Was it a coincidence? What were the odds of that happening?

What if your parents had sent him here to spy on you? That was possible right? Surely they wouldn’t do that though, you’d agreed to go on the honeymoon, that was enough, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes, feeling like your sanity was slipping away; it sounded like the type of thing they’d do. Just to make sure you were behaving.

“Hey, YN, what’s wrong?” Nicholas squeezes your waist, trying to get your attention. You snap back to reality, seeing his concerned face a few inches away from your own. You hand’t noticed how close you were so you let go of Nicholas, breaking out of his grip gently.

“Nothing,” you say as you swim toward the nearest ladder.

You were definitely annoyed, your parents couldn’t just leave you alone, could them?

After your early dinner, during which you constantly looked over your shoulder in case you spotted the tyre man, you go back to your room to continue reading. You hadn’t run into that man after all, but it was only a matter of time.

Nicholas takes the opportunity to shower first after being in the pool, not that you were picky or going to fight him for it.

The door of the bathroom opens some time later and he emerges with a towel around his head and one around his waist. You try to mind your own business but he’s rummaging around his own suitcase for ages, so damn loudly, might you add, humming and hawing at what to wear.

You glare in his direction, but his back is to you, and all you see is the excess droplets on his skin snaking their way down his back-

“You having a good time there, Mrs Wang?” he turns around and catches you staring. Your eyes narrow at the name calling and you decide he does it to get a rise out of you, so you don’t give him the satisfaction.

“I would have a better time if you had the capacity to make faster decisions.” you retort, looking down to your book as he straightens up.

“No can do, you’d rather me wear clothes in bed, wouldn’t you?” he asks inquisitively.

“If you dared do otherwise, you would find yourself in a very comfortable chair-” you pause. “in the lobby.” you finish curtly.

Nicholas raises his hands innocently, giving you a quiet ‘okay’ before going back to the bathroom to get dressed. A minute later you hear the hair dryer come on and another minute he’s back to bug you.

“Didn’t you finish that book yet?” he asks, trying to see the cover as he went past.

“No, I started this one an hour ago.” you say.

“What?” he stops in pure shock. “How many books did you bring?” he exclaims.

“Ten.” you look up, giving him a tight lipped smile. “One for each day.”

Nicholas looks at you in awe, shaking his head. “YN, you really are something.” he says. “But this cannot be. Your eyes will glaze over, we’re watching TV, c’mon.” he prompts you to move over a little where you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed.

You shuffle slightly to the right, but don’t let go of your book even as he grabs the remote and switches on the TV. It’s a decently sized flat screen mounted on the wall in front of you, adjacent to the small dinning table.

Nicholas hops on the bed beside you, mimicking your stretched legs, crossed at the ankles. The noise starts to distract you only because he’s channel flipping for a minute before he settles on something.

“Perfect.” he mumbles and puts the remote down. You glance up at the screen and see the film name.

“Really?” you ask, closing your book with a loud smack. “You’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on vacation?”

“No,” he replies. “We’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on our honeymoon.”

“Yes, because that makes all the difference.” you mutter. You give in regardless since the movie keeps playing and you may as well pay attention.

It’s kind of a long film but it’s not bad. You do at one moment overthink it and imagine what you’d do if you were in the same situation - you were halfway there anyway on this island - but you stop yourself because that kind of thinking was not a good idea. It would scare you unnecessarily.

It gets to the part where Tom Hanks is trying to get off the island on his raft and loses his beloved friend, the volleyball. You watch as he yells, trying to stay afloat. It made you a little emotional and you look away for a moment only to notice Nicholas is watching intently, his own eyes glassy and lips tight.

It fascinates you for a moment to see him like that since it was a wholly new side to him but you will yourself to look away, reaching to the bedside and pulling a tissue out of the box, handing it wordlessly to your husband.

“Thanks.” he says under his breath and you hum just as quietly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about the wifi signal.” he sniffles. “I miss it so much.” he admits, raising a fist to his mouth. You nod, as if understanding, when in reality you’d basically popped the champagne when you found out there was no wifi.

After the film finishes, it’s starting to get late so you pop off for a quick shower, wanting to get the chlorine off your body before sleeping.

You brush your teeth and put on a t-shirt and sleeping shorts and get to bed. Nicholas joins you after brushing his teeth and turning off the big light.

“Right,” you say, getting Nicholas’ attention. “Here is a line, it’s invisible but it exists, so stick to your side of the bed, please and thank you.”

“No problem. You won’t even know I’m here.” he nods obediently. “So shall we get to bed, Mrs Wang?”

You stop fluffing your pillow at his silly question and turn to give him a stink face.

“You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?” you ask.

“Nope, not until death do us part.” he shows you a toothy grin.

It suddenly occurs to you that while you had shared your reasoning for giving into the marriage, Nicholas so far hadn’t really commented on the topic. You frown. Why hadn’t he mentioned that yet?

“That’s weird.” you say, continuing on your train of thought.

“Not really, it’s pretty standard for marriages.”

“No, not that.” you shake your head. Starting to overthink it.

“What then?” Nicholas asks as he lies down on his side.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice there must be something in it for you to agree to this union.” you say sceptically.

“Pfft. Union. You make it sound so formal.” he replies sarcastically. You notice he isn’t offering any insights.

“Well, we are legally bound together, unfortunately. I suppose it’s serious.” you reason.

“Yeah, so serious. Like donkeys pulling on a cart.”

“Don’t change the subject.” you quip. “I don’t know what it is you want, but I will find out and hold it over your head like a guillotine.” you warn, annoyed at the sudden suspicious toward the man now in your bed.

Was this a defence mechanism - getting suspicious as soon as someone got close to you?

“Can’t wait, ma cherie*. I hope your revolution works out.” Nicholas sighs, turning off the lamp on his side.

“Impeccable attempt at humour, mon ange*.” you roll your eyes before reaching to your bedside lamp. “And by the way, donkeys pull their own damn carts.” you say, flipping the switch and turning your back to him.

You fall asleep faster than you expected but it certainly has its drawbacks.

For one, every once in a while you wake up because Nicholas has somehow managed to roll to your side of the bed and is hogging your area with his giantness, limbs splaying all over you, waking you up.

You manage to shoulder him off you gently, using your strength to roll him back to his side and it seems he’s a heavy sleeper because he doesn’t wake when you end up pushing him away with your knees.

You go back to sleep, satisfied that he’s far away enough from you that you can sleep in peace, only to wake up the next morning feeling incredibly warm and suffocated.

That’s because Mr You-Won’t-Even-Know-I’m-Here has a vice grip on you; one leg thrown over yours and one heavy arm thrown over your waist while his face is tucked into your hair, as if you were one of those long, huggable body pillows.

You open your eyes and reach for your phone to check the time. It was 9-ish so you decide that’s enough anyway. You were going to wake him up.

“Nicholas?” you say, voice croaky. You shuffle slightly, managing to drop his leg off of yours but the arm stays around your waist. “Nicholas?” you try again, patting his bicep gently. This time he stirs slightly, a low hum rumbling in his chest. You feel the vibration on your back and think you’re making progress.

It’s difficult but you shimmy out from under his loosened grip and sit up while he automatically rolls on his back, eyes still closed.

“Unbelievable.” you shake your head, looking down at his sleeping figure, before getting up. He looks way too peaceful and it makes you a little mad. You make no effort to be quiet since he was still out cold and probably won’t wake up for ages so you get ready for the day, make some coffee and sit with your book.

Some time later, your husband finally decides to open his eyes and you look in his direction when he sits up and stretches, yawning like a cat.

“Ah,” he exhales gruffly. “this bed is dope, oh my god.” he comments. “Did you sleep well?” he asks nonchalantly. You send a death glare in his direction, making him shrink back slightly.

“I would have,” you start through gritted teeth. “if you weren’t trying to strangle me.”

“Huh?” he has the nerve to look genuinely confused. “Did I do something?” he asks, meek all of a sudden.

“I don’t know if anyone has ever told you,” you get up, getting closer to the bed. “but you are a heinous koala when you sleep!” you say pointedly, before going into the bathroom to get some sunscreen out of your makeup bag.

“Nuh-uh,” you hear Nicholas call out. He has the audacity to disagree. You’re back out in a split second, listening expectantly. “Apologise to koalas, that was uncalled for.” he finishes. You’re taken aback; you thought he’d call bullshit and say you’d imagined it.

You huff but ultimately concede; the creatures had never done anything to you personally. “Sorry, koalas.” you mumble and sit in front of the vanity to apply sunscreen on your face.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Nicholas says, getting up. “I know I’m practically an ogre in the mornings, but I can’t help it.”

“At least you’re self-aware.” you reply. “I’ll tolerate it for eight more days, but you’re on thin ice.”

“Alright.” he says, closing the bathroom door.

The next few days, the weather improves significantly and the two of you end up going to the beach or chilling by the pool. You even go to do this snorkelling lesson with an instructor and swim near some coral reefs, enjoying the beautiful crystal clear ocean.

You also end up going to a spa for some random treatments out of boredom and a massage, which you weren’t too hot on but Nicholas begged you to join him since he didn’t want to go alone. (That and he said that you wouldn’t go because you were comfortable being a tense control freak. So of course you had to prove him wrong by sticking around. It was worth it.)

Another day you end up going out in a boat and fishing with some other guests at the resort. You had to admit, you were definitely having fun despite not having wanted to even go on vacation. Going fishing wasn’t something you’d ever thought about doing, yet here you were.

It’s then that you run into the tyre man for the first time.

Fishing; you should have known that’s where you’d meet the middle aged businessman.

“Mrs Wang!” you hear a hearty voice greet you when he spots you. You almost grimace - you wished you’d told people to keep calling you by your own family name. Nicholas seems slightly startled next you while he holds his fishing rod.

“Hi, Mr Lee, what a surprise!” you say, lying shamelessly. You’d been expecting to bump into him before he left. “How are you doing?”

The man stops next to your spot at the rail of the boat, his own rod in hand and some bait in a bowl in the other. A woman joins him and you remember that’s his wife, whom you’d also met at the wedding. You greet her politely too.

“Ah, well, we’re just out for some relaxation. You know how it is, can’t be cooped up in the office all the time.” Mr Lee replies. He doesn’t seem suspicious and you sense it could be possible that this was a coincidence and not a conspiracy. But you intuition doesn’t let up.

“Right, of course.” you nod along. “We’re just here on our honeymoon.” you say, nudging Nicholas beside you.

“Aha, really wanted to spend this special time in a special place.” he adds smoothly.

“As well, you should. You’re young and in love, you shouldn’t waste away in an office.” he commends you. Was he testing you? Why mention love at all? What did he know?

“Very true.” you say. “So, how long are you staying?” you ask casually.

“Oh, um, until Thursday.” he says, and you latch onto the slight air of awkwardness when he says that. You were staying until Friday, which was a little too close to your liking. “We really like it here but there’s no place like home, right?”

“Indeed,” you smile artificially. “Well, we should let you go. Enjoy the rest of your trip, we’ll see you back at home, Mr Lee. Mrs Lee.” you say politely, greeting each of them in turn.

“Yes, thank you, we will. Y’know, there is a special event being held by the hotel on Wednesday, you should come along.” Mr Lee says. You wonder for a moment if that was bait. If it was then you were going to make him think he could hook, line and sink you.

“Oh really?” you say, exaggeratedly fascinated. “Well, I guess we’ll have to think about it. No promises though; you know how hard it is to leave the bedroom on your honeymoon.” you drawled with a straight face.

You hoped he would give that direct quote to your parents and make them as flustered as he looked right now.

“Right, see you.”

And with that you exchange some more polite nods, and separate, the Lees terrorised and Nicholas wide eyed to your left as he cast out his fishing rod.

“YN, I gotta hand it to you, you’re really scary sometimes.” he says so only you can hear him.

“Only sometimes?” you reply, putting the bait on your line. “Guess I should work harder then.”

“Remind me to not get on your bad side again.” he says.

“Oh buddy,” you sigh. “after using me as a body pillow, you have a reserved spot and VIP access.”

The next couple of days, the humidity is unbearable and if it isn’t, then it’s the heat.

You’d been trying to sleep, but it was just too damn hot and the air con wasn’t doing much to help it. You’d shed any blankets and just had sheets instead, but even those got thrown off.

Eventually Nicholas pokes you hesitantly in the middle of the night.

“You sleeping?” he whispers. You shift, then answer.

“I was trying to.” you reply.

“YN, it’s really hot, can we take off our clothes?” he asks. Perhaps the question would have flustered you if you weren’t completely baking right now. You don’t open your eyes but you nod.

“Yeah, I don’t want either of us passing out from excessive heat.” you agree and shrug off your shorts but realise that you needed to get up and put on a bra or cami since there was nothing under your t-shirt. “Damn it.” you mutter and get up, in search of something to wear.

You settle on a thin camisole and hop back into bed. Nicholas has shed his shorts and shirt and is lying, just staring at the ceiling in his underwear, his hands behind his head. You don’t let your eyes linger, mostly because they’re too tired and you want to close them again.

You read the clock on your phone, finding it was just past 4 in the morning. You sigh and lie back down.

Neither of you seems to be able to fall asleep again, the dawn light getting more intense past your curtains.

“You awake?” Nicholas asks, shifting slightly.

“Yeah.” you say, turning to face him. You spot the silver chain around his neck and the way it reflects the early morning light.

“What if we’re married for a long time?” he asks in the darkness. “Like for years?”

You wonder what sparked that thought. “We’ll just have to deal with it.” you reply.

“Yeah, but eventually we’re going to start having needs.” Nicholas glances at you. “Like I’m going to want to sleep with someone and you’re going to want to sleep with someone. Then what? Do we sleep with other people? Do we sleep with each other? How do we get around that?”

The whole train of questions catches you off guard, however with even a second of consideration, you realise he’s raised a very valid concern. What would you do? It made you realise your marriage was more doomed than you’d thought.

“You’re right. It’s a hard question that I don’t have the answer to.” you lament.

“Right,” he says, pausing for a while. “I guess, for me, I wouldn’t want to sleep with other people - I’d feel like I was cheating on you even if we agreed to go out and do that.”

“Really?” you’re genuinely surprised at the revelation. “You would feel like that even though you have no feelings for me?”

“Well yeah, we’re married and all that. And we’re friends right?”

You find yourself nodding in the darkness. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t feel nice to do that to a friend.”

“Would you sleep with someone else?”

You take a moment to think. “Probably not. I’d keep thinking about you, waiting for me at home, in our house. I wouldn’t be able to do it.” you tell him honestly.

It strikes you that this was possibly the deepest conversation you’d had so far, fittingly left for the middle of the night.

“‘Our house’.” he repeats, tasting the words and letting them float up above you and into the early dawn gloom.

“Strange, right?” you muse.

“So, what are we concluding on the topic?” he asks, looking at you.

“The jury’s still out.” you shrug, unconvinced.

“So diplomatic, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas laughs quietly.

“Will you stop calling me that?” you yawn.

“Nah, it’s fun. You get so worked up about it.” he tells you.

“So you like raising my blood pressure?” you inquire.

“Well, if we’re going to be married for years, I gotta find a way to entertain myself, don’t I?”

“You are a menace.” you state, no force behind your words.

“Thank you. Right back at you.”

“Hah, I got news for you. This town is only big enough for one menace, and if it’s gonna be one of us damn it, it’s gonna be me.” you say stoically, but burst out laughing a split second later after hearing yourself back. You were feeling goofy; it was 4am. Nicholas finds it equally funny and laughs with you.

It was then that you felt like you were finally comfortable around each other, at least enough to be staying up until morning, laughing about bullshit while lying around in your underwear.

Because that’s totally the sort of thing married friends did, right?

You wake up, barely conscious and notice your arm is slightly trapped. Then you realise why; you were tucked into Nicholas’ side, your head on his shoulder, hand on his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your fingers. It would have been a surprise and you would have scrambled off, but your limbs were too tired and too comfortable for any excessive movement.

Your eyes close again, and you let yourself drift off even though you had half the thought about what kind of dramatic reaction Nicholas might have to find you in that position after you’d given him a mouthful about being a koala. In your defence, it was his arm around you keeping you smushed together.

The next time you wake up, you’re lying on your back, Nicholas still right next to you. You get up quietly, starting to get ready for the day.

You’d agreed to go to that event thing the Lees had told you about because you’d mentioned to Nicholas that this could be some kind of ploy by your parents and you wanted to investigate. There was ice cream and booze so he didn’t need much convincing really. (Neither did you, if you were honest; you could use a bit of both).

Just as you’re putting the finishing touches of your makeup, Nicholas stirs and yawns loudly before sitting up. He spots you before the vanity, basically ready and checks the time.

“Jeez, why didn’t you wake me?” he asks, swinging off the bed and hurrying to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, did you just hear yourself?” you call out to him. “Wake? You up?” you cap your mascara and get up, walking over to lean on the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed. You see Nicholas scrambling about, large form folded over the tiny sink, to brush his teeth at a furious speed. “I would rather go wake an actual sleeping lion up.”

“Fwine, bwut you clould at weast teth am aalarm.” he says through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, dude.” you walk away, letting him struggle with the mint foam.

When you get down to lunch (it was far too late to even attempt calling it brunch), you find that the event the Lees mentioned was going to start in just over an hour (it really was late thanks to your middle of the night joint existential crisis).

After you finish eating, you make your way to the large garden of the hotel where the thing was going to take place. You were walking in blind pretty much, having no idea what on Earth was going on.

There are at least ten or so tables set up and about twice as many guests, mostly couples by the look of it, seated within the area. There’s a small square mat or something of the sort in front of the tables, supposedly like a makeshift stage. Was this going to be some kind show?

You spot the Lees just as promised at one of the tables and you start to look for another place to sit, but they notice you and call you over.

“Shit,” you mutter, automatically reaching to your side to find Nicholas’ hand.

“Double shit,” he says, taking your hand and lacing your fingers, and you look back at him. “look.” he motions to a poster propped up on an easel.

You feel like you’re about to find some harder expletives when you read the words written in big bubble letters:

COUPLES CONTEST

“Oh my-” you can’t even finish the sentence.

You’d just walked into the adult version of those awkward middle school events that teachers would try to entertain students with.

“We could still leave?” Nicholas suggests quietly. You want to agree but Mrs Lee is smiling from across the garden at you, sipping on her drink.

“Too late.” you conclude and start walking to the half-filled table.

“Well, you don’t know they’re spies for your parents.” Nicholas mumbles unhelpfully. “We might just hang out politely.”

You reach the table and greet the Lees. You take a seat closest to Mrs Lee and Nicholas away from both of them. You felt like you were acting like protective buffer between him and them.

“Oh YN, I just got off the phone with your mother-” Mrs Lee gushes to you immediately. “you remember we’re both part of that book club?” she says, as if it’s explanatory that she would be close to your mother. “Anyways, we were talking about how maybe you should join too, it might be fun. You could make friends with the other ladies there,” she suggests, “and between you and me,” she leans closer as if the men at the table can’t hear you. “it’s where we go to get away from our husbands, but shh!”

You’re having a multitude of reactions under the surface (including searing rage towards your mother, wanting to sink into the ground out of awkwardness, and disappointed smugness that you were right that they were in cahoots with your parents) but you give her a polite chuckle and smile.

You know she was just trying to be her version of friendly, for some reason that being recruiting you into some kind of married-women-who-don’t-want-to see-their-husbands exclusive club, so you don’t get too mad.

“Well, I do like reading, but I think I think I like my husband more.” you reply, lightly rejecting the offer. You turn to look at Nicholas, giving him an ‘I-told-you-so’ face while he sighs contemplatively. You were also hung up on the fact that this woman called your mother more than you did, so who knows what other wack ideas she might have.

“Darling, I don’t think Mrs Wang wants to go to that stuffy book club.” Mr Lee cuts in awkwardly. “Besides, these two are much younger than us, they should go on dates and enjoy themselves instead of boring themselves with books.”

Oh boy, this was going to be a long afternoon.

You had a lot to say but you weren’t going to utter a single syllable. Nicholas looks down helplessly, and you guess he’s trying to keep himself from laughing.

Fortunately, at that pause in your conversation, you spotted two people walking up to the square ‘stage’. They looked like hotel employees, judging from their Hawaiian style shirts, one with a loud tiger print and the other with a large flower pattern. They were carrying microphones and tapped on them to check they were working.

“Hello?” the flower guy said. His voice came out through the modest speakers set up on either side of the segregated area. He seems satisfied and so does his friend. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to our monthly couples contest!” he paused for a polite round of applause. “My name is Boo and I will be one of your MCs today.”

“And I’m Hoshi, your other MC this afternoon. We have a great few rounds of fun lined up for you and an exciting prize for the winning team.” the guy with the tiger print continues.

“That’s right,” Boo says. “there are three games where each of our teams will compete head to head in an attempt to do the impossible - be the best couple!”

“Firstly, if you take a look around, you will find our lovely assistant Dino coming around with some name tags; please take one and write your names on them.” Hoshi says. You did notice a guy in a regular employee shirt walking around and depositing said name tags on each table swiftly.

“Alright, to start off, we have a game that will test your communication skills.” Boo announces. “The game is called ‘scream in silence’; here are the rules…”

You listen carefully as he explained it, even though you had seen this game played before. It was fairly simple so you thought you and Nicholas might do well at it. You just couldn’t believe you were trapped in a middle school dance on your honeymoon.

“Okay, firstly, we’re going to need to split you up so that we can get through the game faster. Each of us will conduct a round and tally up the scores for you.” Hoshi takes over. Two of them split up the crowd into two and ask for the first teams to come to two chairs facing each other set up by Dino on each side of the area.

You get split up from the Lees (thankfully) and end up sitting on Hoshi’s side of the garden.

The game starts and you watch as one person out of the couple starts trying to mouth the correct word to the other as they both wear a pair of large noise cancelling headphones. It’s pretty fun since people are really awful at lipreading.

You’re the third couple in your half of the crowd and you sit down in the opposite seat to Nicholas, the two of you putting on the headphones. It almost blows your mind how much you couldn’t hear through the headphones, and that was before Hoshi turned the music on. He held up the first word.

“Lawn mower.” you said, trying your best to enunciate to Nicholas. His face immediately scrunches up, squinting at you from seven feet away. “Lawn mower!” you repeat.

He mouths something that looks a lot like “Slower!” back to you and you shake your head, sure it was wrong. He tries again but you cut him off, starting to feel yourself becoming competitive.

“La-wn mo-wer!” you try to break it down but he seems more confused. “Pass!” you shake your head.

“Fishing.” you say as Hoshi shows you the next word. Nicholas blinks at you.

“Kissing?” he replies, frowning at the word. You weren’t sure how you managed to lip read it but you were sure that’s what he was saying.

“No, fi-shing!” you attempt to break it down. “Fi-shing!” you were starting to get frustrated, your voice rising in decibels. “Fi-shing!”

“Missing!” Nicholas tried again. You sighed.

“Pass!” you requested again. The next one was a phrase and it made you hesitate. “I love you.” you called out, just focusing on reading the phrase and not thinking about it. You felt so flustered saying it out loud, your face warming up and blood pressure rising. You didn’t think you’d ever actually say those words, especially not to your husband.

Nicholas shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know.” you think he said. You steeled yourself, growing frustrated again, mostly with the appearance of the phrase and the way it mocked your situation.

“I love you.” you tried again, saying it louder this time, as if he would hear you.

“Above you?” Nicholas said. You looked up, rolling your eyes at his denseness.

“I love you, you bastard!” you screamed out, lying aggressively, noticing that people in your group were pissing themselves with laughter.

Nicholas paused for a moment, mouth slightly ajar as the cogs turned in his head. The eureka moment came finally and he clapped his hands together. That got your attention and you perked up expectantly.

“I love you!” he yelled back. Hoshi gave you an approving sign, telling you you secured a point.

“And the time is up!” Hoshi declared, raising a hand and doing a slicing action at his neck to let you know since you couldn’t really hear him. You were more than happy to take those humongous headphones off and return to your seat. “That’s one point for YN and Nicholas!” he says while there’s a scattered round of applause.

You go sit down and try to ignore what just happened. Nicholas does too, watching the game ahead of you.

There’s only one other couple in your group that manages to score a point, one Hanbin and Hao, who were just as tragically terrible at the game but very cute while they played it.

“And that’s the first round over,” Boo announces. “Let us tally the scores - oh my! This was not your lucky day every one, but we do have two couples who scored and are therefore in the lead.”

“Don’t be discouraged everyone, it’s still all to play for.” Hoshi says. “The next game might be somewhat easier. It’s a game to test your couple chemistry; the peppero game!”

You sit there trying to discern what that actually constitutes.

“What is the peppero game?” Nicholas whispers to you, just as confused. There seems to be an excited buzz around you though because apparently people know what that is or think they might do better at it than the other one.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a corporate lawyer.” you whisper back. You never thought that some random game may become your greatest intellectual obstacle.

It’s when Boo calls up the first group and explains the rules that it sinks in. You watch as each couple takes a peppro stick snack and holds it between their lips, starting to munch on it from both sides, slowly making their way to meet in the middle. The objective is to have the smallest length of peppero stick remaining at the end.

“So that’s the peppero game.” Nicholas says, dumbfounded.

“You shouldn’t have asked dumb questions.” you scold him quietly.

“I can’t help it sometimes, okay?” he hisses back.

Once the first group is finished and the MCs take measurements, they don’t disclose the results before calling the rest of the couples up. You and Nicholas reluctantly step up and face each other. Boo comes around and offers you the pack of peppero and you pick one out, holding it up.

You have to get quite a bit closer to Nicholas and his hands comes up to rest on your shoulders to hold you in place as you bite on one end and offer him the other. Due to his struggles as a giant, Nicholas has to lean in a fair distance to make it work and you try your best to rise to your fullest height.

“And begin!” Hoshi calls out, getting the game started. You take tiny bites of the snack, forced to stare at your husband up close because your eyes could go nowhere else.

Your mouth focuses on not dropping the stick but your eyes focus on Nicholas; there’s the colour of his eyes, they way his eyelashes become more prominent when he blinks at you, and the way you can see your own reflection in his eyes as you get closer.

Nicholas looks you straight in the eye, your noses just shy of touching and you accidentally bite down harder on the stick, severing it cleanly.

“Ah,” you breathe, realising your mistake. “Sorry.”

He lets go of you and takes the stick between his fingers, examining it. There was a lot left, at least 3cm or so.

You wait for the rest of the couples to finish and hand in your pathetic peppero remnants to Hoshi, who immediately makes a face.

“Oh guys,” he says then raises the mic. “well we know who definitely lost the game. Sorry, you two.” he smiles apologetically.

“Now that everyone has had a go, we can reveal that there was actually a penalty for the losers.” Boo says, basking in the crowd’s laughter.

“Oh lord, here we go.” you mutter. Before you can leave, Boo stops you.

“I’m afraid you’re staying, guys.” he says. “This game was supposed to check your couple chemistry and sadly you had a less than favourable result.”

“Since we don’t want to send you away feeling crappy about it, the penalty is simple and sweet; kiss and makeup for losing the game.” Hoshi tells you.

You have a serious déjà vu back to your wedding where a crowd was watching the two of you kiss. It makes your stomach twist with eminent embarrassment. Not again, you think.

“Oh come, don’t look so glum!” Hoshi continues. “Cheer up, let’s give them a hand everyone!” he encourages a round of applause but in your mind it gets worse.

You’d avoided looking directly at Nicholas but you found him watching you expectantly and you turn to him, leaning in to initiate the kiss. The faster you did it, the better. He seems to catch on and leans to peck your lips half-way. Your mouths barely touch but you did it and smile in what you hope appears a natural way.

You look out to the crowd, seeing they’re looking back at you awkwardly. Judgmentally even.

“Now what was that?” Boo questions. “That might have been more pathetic than your peppero, you guys.” he taunts you gently.

“Aren’t you newly weds?” Hoshi asks, surprisingly observant of the wedding rings on your fingers. “This is your honeymoon, you gotta have more passion than that!” he says excitedly, as if he was the one getting kissed. You glance at him, finding something in his eyes that may or may not suggest madness. You were also starting to think he might have a voyerism thing.

“Hey, this is peer pressure!” Nicholas attempts, trying to get you out of the MCs grip.

“It’s for your own good, bro, we’re trying to save your marriage.” Hoshi says to you, microphone not quite picking up all of that.

“Just a quick kiss,” Boo pleads. “or we’ll feel like we failed you.”

You can’t help but laugh at his logic. It’s clear that they’re just trying to have fun so you give in, stepping up to Nicholas again, who gives you a reassuring nod.

You lean in again, eyes closing, willing yourself to tune everything out. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, holding you steady as your lips mold over his. You kiss your husband for the nth time; you were losing count but you were well aware that it was a finite number that you could count on your fingers.

Ignoring everyone seems to help because you relax into the kiss and pull yourself closer to him intuitively, imagining you were back in that tunnel where you’d tried kissing the first time. It was hard to deny it, but Nicholas was a good kisser, whether he had been before you met or it was just that you’d practised together, and this kiss was no exception.

It was good.

Dizzyingly good.

You pull away gently, feeling that you needed air, your heart beating faster than usual. The two of you look at each, unsure when you should really pull away. There’s a momentary silence and then a loud round of applause and you figure that’s a good cue to really separate and hurry back to your seats.

“Wow, now that’s what you call a kiss!” Hoshi hollered, smiling widely. “Thank you for being good sports, and good luck on the next round.”

You wanted to call it irony.

That’s what the strangest moments in life contained. You’d been pushed into an arranged marriage with a man you didn’t love, yet you had grown closer despite your circumstance, to the point where physical acts of affection were exchanged between you in public and you weren’t ready to die on the spot.

So you did call it irony; the fact that you’d been so ready to resent Nicholas from day one but had become friends with him instead. Did friends kiss like that, you wondered. Married ones did, you supposed.

There was a part of you that wished you didn’t feel the way you just did: as if you wanted to kiss him again. It was bothering you a little, a tiny voice in the back of your head, telling you that no matter what face you tried to pull and pretend to be angry that you’d had to kiss him, you were deep down glad you’d gotten to kiss him again.

It felt like you were starting to develop a bad habit; the way one piece of chocolate sometimes becomes another, or one episode becomes three, and five more minutes of sleep becomes an hour. You made a note to avoid kissing him for a while, in case you started to spiral.

It wasn’t a crime to want to kiss your husband but in your case, it could become dangerous.

For now, you told yourself it was probably just liking the physical intimacy that you’d been missing in your life and nothing more. Purely one of those pyramid needs things you’d read about.

You can’t dwell on it too long because Boo announces the final game.

“We’ve tested your communication and your chemistry, now it’s time to test how well you know each other in a couple quiz!”

“That’s right, this is simply a game of knowledge about your other half, shouldn’t be difficult, right everyone?” Hoshi chimes in.

The thought occurs to you that you might be slightly disadvantaged this round since you’d met not that long ago but also weren’t a ‘real’ couple so to speak, but then you remembered the few basic notes you’d swapped between yourselves and change your mind - you might be better equipped than the other couples.

Boo and Hoshi get each couple to write down five questions and their answers on a different piece of paper and invite each couple to do the quiz in front of everyone for fair judgment.

You don’t need to tell Nicholas what kind of questions to write down because it was obvious - the stuff from the memos you’d shared. Was it cheating? You wouldn’t think so; technically nothing could have ever stopped other couples from doing the same thing as you. Besides, you were certain other people aimed for questions they were certain their partner would know.

It was so obvious, it was practically an unspoken rule of the game.

As expected, most couples do very well, only missing one or two answers, or if there was more, probably because they knew each other way too well and had a wider margin for mistakes and overthinking.

You sat around waiting for your turn, but you ended up going last out of the whole group. You and Nicholas took to the floor, picking up the A4 whiteboards supplied by the MCs and getting ready to answer the questions.

You did Nicholas’ questions first.

What was his favourite meal? You could have answered that just from living with him for a few weeks but you knew the official answer.

If he could eat one fruit for the rest of his life, what would it be? It was so easy, you rolled your eyes as you wrote it down.

What style of dancing had he practiced during high school? Your pen started moving before Boo even finished asking the question.

What was the name and brand of his favourite cologne? This one annoyed you slightly because it wasn’t something you’d explicitly talked about but you had noticed in your shared bathroom at home.

And finally, what was his birthday and star sign? You gave them the sun, moon, and ascendant just to be sure, memories from your memos.

You finessed the challenge, giving the audience in front of you a smug finger gun and wink because of them had really struggled with answering their spouse’s questions. While you’re up there, you spot the Lees giving you a subtle thumbs up and you smile at them, genuinely for once. You’d almost forgotten they were there and also spying on you for your mother.

You hoped they would relay everything they saw today and get her off your back.

It was Nicholas’ turn to answer your questions and you’d really tried to keep them as simple as possible, asking things like your own star sign, hometown, favourite school subject back in the day, favourite colour (were you in kindergarten? today you might as well be), and your coffee order, which was one of the first memos you’d given Nicholas.

He aces it just like you did, and you’re a little proud of him for remembering even this much about you.

“Well, you saw it here first folks, we have another perfect team.” Hoshi announces. “We’re going to ask our other top scorers, Hanbin and Hao to get up here for a tie-breaker.”

Uh-oh. You started to panic at the prospect of more questions and especially because they would be of the unseen variety.

“You did so well that we’re going to need to get some bonus questions in there, stuff that will make you think on your feet.” Boo informs the four of you. You’ll go first since you’re already sitting there. “We’ll do three questions each.”

This time you’d both write an answer down on the whiteboards instead of the hosts fact checking on the piece of paper.

It was in that moment, that you accepted you’d already lost. There was no way you’d beat anyone when you’d known each other for like two months.

“Nicholas, what is YN’s favourite time of day?” Boo asks. You think carefully about what Nicholas might say and try to write an answer down to match it.

You think simply and thank whoever that it was an easy question.

You both hold up your answer and check. A wave of relief washes over you.

Nicholas had written 4am on his board, matching yours. It was an obvious one since you’d stayed up that late just this morning.

Nicholas manages to get another question right (it was about your job title, which almost makes you laugh because could they have picked better questions for you?) but misses the third one because it was simply impossible for him to know.

“We’re going to get a little spicy now for the final one, if that’s okay.” Hoshi begins. “Where on her body, does your wife like being kissed?”

“Please do keep the answers moderately PG.” Boo pleads you before you write. Your heart is racing because you know this will be wrong.

You write ‘cheek’, hoping it’s generic enough to get you the point, but Nicholas writes ‘neck’ and you throw him a glare. He shrugs innocently.

“Oh no, what a shame!” Hoshi exclaims. “Very close to perfection, but not quite. Now, let’s see if YN can match or better your score.”

You’re asked about Nicholas’ shoe size and you think hard, trying to remember if you’d ever seen an actual number. By some miracle, you guess the correct number after taking a little longer to answer the question.

“Right, so far so good.” Boo says, leading up to the next question. “What is Nicholas’ love language?”

You freeze.

Not good, very not good.

You wracked your brain, trying to figure it out on the spot. In the end you write ‘physical affection’ because of the way he never leaves you untouched in bed and hope for the best. Nicholas turns his board around and you sigh at the ‘acts of service’ scribbled there.

“Oh disaster strikes again!” Hoshi squeaks. “YN, you have one more question before we hand it over to your competitors.”

“We’re going for another spicy question, as is customary.” Boo continues. All you hear is ‘game over’ in your head, flashing in big red letters. “If given the chance, what is the freakiest public location Nicholas would want you to partake in the act of coitus?”

You felt like throwing yourself down a flight of stairs.

Translation - where does he want to fuck?

Low key it was a super personal question but also awkward since you were in a group setting, even if you were all adults here.

You had no idea, so you just wrote down the first thing that popped into your head: ‘balcony’.

“And now, the big reveal…” Hoshi trails off dramatically. You’re so over this and just want to go back to the comfort of your hotel room and hide from the world until you left the island.

You turn the boards and your suspicions are confirmed. You lost.

Nicholas had written ‘conference room’.

For a moment, you think about why he wrote that and then it sends you spiralling; you could have easily answered that question with just an ounce of thought. The war room, of course. Why didn’t you think of that?

“Ohhh, so close yet so far!” Hoshi says. “I’m sorry guys, but that’s three out of six for you, if Hanbin and Hao can get four or more, they win. Thank you for playing, good job!”

You thank the MCs and sit down, watching while Hanbin and Hao got question after question right. They won the round so easily, that it was laughable.

“Welp, at least we tried.” Nicholas nudges your arm.

“Sorry I messed up.” you say.

“It’s fine, it’s not like we knew any of the answers.” he says simply, absolving you of blame.

In the end, Hanbin and Hao are the overall winners because they had managed a point in the scream in silence game, a good score in the peppero game and a complete sweep in the quiz. Their prize is pretty fun too - a free twenty-four hours renting a yacht around the island.

“Congratulations! Now, a speech from our winners, please guys, say a few words.” Boo asks.

Hao seems too stunned to speak so Hanbin takes over, a big smile on his face.

“Woah, well we didn’t expect to do so well. We only got married in April and we’ve been too busy working to get a vacation, so it’s really amazing to get such a nice surprise. Thank you for playing everyone and thanks to our wonderful MCs!” he wraps up nicely and you applaud, smiling as they both sat down.

“Lovely!” Boo says when the clapping dies down. “Right, everyone, just before we go, we do have one more thing to announce. We have a runner’s up prize too; a romantic dinner and stargazing experience for two.”

“Sounds like a treat, right?” Hoshi chimes in. “We can now reveal that our runner up couple is…YN and Nicholas!”

You hear your names being called and you find yourself confused.

You had scored in the first game, completely failed the second, but managed to get runner up in the third, so it did in fact add up, but it still felt strange.

“Congrats, you two. See us afterwards so we can fill you in.” Boo instructs. “Well, everyone. Thank you for a delightful afternoon. We hope you enjoyed yourselves as much as we always do. We’ll wish you a pleasant evening and another congratulations to all our winners! This has been Boo…”

“And Hoshi! See you later, folks!” they finish in unison. You had to hand it to them, they’d been very fun hosts and you had had a good time despite thinking you’d be stuck making awkward small talk with the Lees all afternoon. (You were almost sure that being separated from them had been the stroke of luck that had saved your day.)

“I can’t believe we actually won something. What a weird day.” Nicholas muses as the crowd slowly disperses.

“There are stranger things in life, are there not?” you reply, tempting him into a philosophical discussion.

“Nope, no more thinking. We got a dinner to claim.” he smiles.

In some ways it was fitting that your last night on the island would be so special.

The dinner you’d won was really amazing and you enjoyed the food thoroughly on the balcony of the largest restaurant in the resort.

You could see the stars between the clouds when they became clearer as the night grew darker. It was worth any momentary embarrassment you’d felt yesterday while competing in the couple contest.

It was getting late by the time you finished your meal so you decided to go and get some sleep since you’d be waking up early tomorrow for your flight home.

By the time you left the restaurant, a dark cover of dense clouds had converged in the sky and hid the stars from you as you slowly strolled back to the hotel.

“Aren’t you glad we came?” Nicholas asks suddenly. He’s moving with some energy despite having mirrored the way you stuffed yourself with food. You, on the other hand, were half a step behind, feeling the weight of your decisions, you had no intention of eating again for at least another day.

You thought for a moment, assessing the collection of good times you’d accumulated over the past week and a bit, then considered for a moment how the hell you were going to deal with getting back to work. Somehow, all the fun you had outweighed your incoming stress.

“Yeah, I’m glad we came.” you admit. Nicholas is smiling when he glances at you, a little proud he convinced you probably.

You seem to have spoken too soon because in the next split second you feel a series of rain drops falling on your face and then a rapid succession which gets starts to drench you before you can even react.

“Shit, you really know how to jinx things, don’t you?” Nicholas comments, squinting as the rain gets harder, but you see him smiling. You’re in the middle of a narrow street and nowhere to take cover.

“You started it!” you reply, infected by his smile. You raise a hand to shelter your eyes from the rain as you look around. There was no one else out.

“Come on!” he grabs your hand and starts running, dragging you behind him. Your legs start moving against your will and you follow him, hoping you’re headed in the right direction since it’s difficult to see in the rain.

The heavens open up torrential rain on the two of you but as you run in between the rain drops, your hand secured in Nicholas’, you can’t help but laugh when he does.

You felt so liberated for a moment.

You didn’t think about work, or the fact that the only reason you were here was because your parents had decided to derail your life, you just ran, as carefree as a kid, splashing through puddles, ruining your sundress and sneakers.

You thought about how you’d only ever seen this happen in movies; how it was some big romantic moment where the leads run and laugh and look all in love as they get drenched, but the reality was that it was exhausting, even if still a little fun, as you tried your best not to lose Nicholas in the curtain-like rain.

It only takes a minute to get to the hotel and you burst through the doors, startling the nightshift staff at the desk and you chuckle at their stunned then relieved faces.

You’re both panting, you more than Nicholas since clearly only one of you worked out, and you will your lungs not to explode as you catch your breath.

Nicholas turns to you, face lit up despite the end to your night. “You look like you just swam here.” he says, bringing a hand to your forehead to move the wet strands away. You pause for a moment, surprised by how tenderly he brushes his finger tips against your skin, pushing the hair away.

“Yeah, well, you look like a wet dog.” you retort sassily despite being short of air. It was true that you both did, drenched from head to toe and to the bone.

“Okay, I’ll acknowledge it, let’s go shower before we catch a cold.”

You get back to your room, feeling a little guilty that you’d been dripping all over the hotel’s plush carpets, but you had no choice.

“You can go first.” Nicholas says, already unbuttoning his soaked through shirt.

“What about you though?” you ask, taking off your shoes. “You should dry off at least, you might get cold.”

“I’ll be fine, just go.” he insists. You’re about to let it go but he sneezes, trying to cover it up with clearing his throat.

“Fine, my ass.” you sigh. “Okay, this is a simple problem so there must be a simple solution.” you say and think for a moment.

You have an idea when you spot the wolf sleeping mask peeking out of Nicholas’ toiletries baggie.

“How about this:” you start. “you take a bath and wear the mask while I take a shower? That way we both get warmed up.”

“You’re so determined to make me return to that bath, aren’t you?” Nicholas shakes his head but agrees. “Alright, I know my place by now, Mrs Wang.” he finishes by throwing off his shirt, then trudges to the bathroom, swiping the mask in passing.

You wait for a minute, hearing the water running and the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor.

“Okay, you can come in now.” Nicholas calls out a moment later.

You creak the door open and close it behind you, eyes sweeping over the scene to make sure he was wearing the mask. Nicholas was sitting in the bath obediently, his broad back to you but you could see the mask was over his eyes.

Satisfied, your hands got busy removing your dress and underwear quickly, leaving them to hang and dry. You padded across the bathroom and hopped in the shower, starting the water.

Neither of you says anything, a less awkward silence than you thought hanging between you but you barely notice because you rush yourself to finish as quickly as possible. You stop the water and open the cabin door, stepping out so you can reach a towel off the shelf.

You glance in Nicholas’ direction in paranoia and freeze when you notice the mask is sitting on the ledge of the bath. In the process, you drop the towel, which in turn makes a moisturiser fall on the floor with a thud and the noise makes Nicholas turn around.

You lock eyes, his widening in panic.

“Ah!” you both scream when you realise what just happened, Nicholas throwing himself to face forward and you scrambling to throw the towel around yourself.

“What are you doing!” you huff, incredibly flustered as you clutch the towel to your body.

“What are you doing!” he demands, just as freaked out.

“Why aren’t you wearing the mask?” you ask, picking up the fallen moisturiser. Damn your self-care diligence.

“I was washing my hair, I had to take it off.” he explains, sitting rigidly with his back to you.

“Oh,” you get it now. “fine. Nevermind.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn.” he says, clearly a bit embarrassed.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” you shrug, forgetting he can’t see you.

“Nice tattoo, by the way.” you hear the smirk in his voice and you close your eyes. How did he manage to see that of all things in a split second?

“You better forget what you saw, or else.” you warn him.

“I’ll try but no guarantees.” he replies. That was good enough for now.

“Okay. I’m going now.” you open the door. “I hope you prune up like a raisin.” you say over your shoulder and shut the door.

You wanted to shrivel up too; become but a speck of dust, not because of embarrassment necessarily, but more like because you didn’t like what you were thinking about. There was a fraction of a second when Nicholas’ eyes widened, that you felt like you wanted him to keep looking.

You shudder at your own deprivation, blaming your busy schedule for not going out and hooking up with more people. Now you were a mess at the slightest incident.

You just hoped at least Nicholas would forget…

*apartment 520 cuz it sounds like ‘i love you’ in chinese and i couldn’t miss an op. also ‘ma cherie’ = my dear/darling and ‘mon ange’ = my angel literally in french

ALMOST FORGOT TO ADD THIS!!!! for all your meme needs <3

A/N: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 I gotta say, i felt just a little unhinged writing some of this, Nicho's too much y'all, i'm not normal about this man. i hope this chapter gave you whiplash cuz same <3

momobani masterlist

#&team #andteam #&team nicholas #wang yixiang #nicholas x reader #&team x reader #&team fics #&team imagines #&team scenarios #momobani.writes

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

Starbound

Find my CoD masterlist

Okay this was just a fun little thing to try my hand at something new!

141 gets sent on an op to the middle of the jungle, tracking down information on Makarov. But this op involves more than they bargained for. Much more.

Warnings: Violence, canon-typical violence, gore, body horror, dead bodies, cat and mouse, monster horror, language.

Some GhostSoap if you squint.

Word count: 3.3k

Soap kind of hated jungles. They were notoriously hot and sticky, only ever made more awful by the gear they all carried, and they were rarely silent.

In his experience, getting out to the target and getting back from the target were equally gross.

"Half a kilometer to go," Price murmured through the comms, low and even. Steady as always.

"Copy," Soap muttered, keeping his own irritation to himself.

"Ghost, Soap, you'll go first. Gaz and I will circle around."

"Rog." Ghost shifted his trajectory and Soap followed, easy as anything. They knew they worked well together, and neither of them bothered fighting it.

Soap swallowed against the sticky heat of the air, attempting to ignore the insects buzzing around them. Not much further, he reminded himself.

Ghost held up one hand for a halt, and Soap waited patiently while Ghost checked the area.

"What’ve you got, LT?" Soap kept his voice low, resisting the urge to lean around Ghost to look for himself.

"No movement," Ghost grunted back. "One sentry, looks like he's asleep on the job."

"Makes our lives easier," Soap murmured.

Ghost didn't reply, but he didn't have to. He advanced quietly, Soap following him.

The compound they were infiltrating was not huge, but it was supposed to have information on Russian movements and weapons purchases. Laswell had deemed it too important to potentially mess up, sending all four of them in.

Personally, Soap thought it was overkill. But he wasn't the boss.

Being in the middle of the jungle, the compound didn't even have a proper wall, just a guard tower. Ghost was up the ladder almost too fast for Soap to appreciate the sight (not that Soap was paying attention to his arse or anything). Soap kept low, waiting for the go ahead.

Which never came.

"We've got a problem," Ghost growled instead.

"How bad?" Price asked.

"Guard's already dead. Mauled."

"Mauled?" Gaz asked, horrified curiosity barely suppressed.

"Looks like a fuckin' tiger, but he's still up in the tower." Ghost sounded displeased. Not that Soap blamed him. That was not a good sign.

"Proceed with caution," Price decided. "Keep me updated, and keep your eyes open."

"Solid copy." Ghost slid back down the ladder, eyes tight under the mask. He motioned Soap on, and Soap transitioned to lead, creeping forward.

The compound was silent. Not quiet. Silent. There was no sound around them, no idle chatter, no footsteps. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he swallowed hard.

The first body Soap found was mauled, innards spilling from long gashes, one arm clearly gnawed on. The other hand still clutched a pistol. Fat lot of good that had done the poor bastard.

"Found another body, sir. Mauled." Soap stepped past it, checking the ground for any signs of what had attacked him.

But there was nothing.

Price swore softly. "Get the intel and get out," he ordered. "Quietly."

"Rog." Soap picked up the pace a little. But the closer they traveled to the center of the camp, the thicker the scent of iron grew until the air was cloying with it.

One last corner and Soap stopped. The ground ahead of him was slick, blood turning the dirt thick and mucky. Bodies lay strewn across the ground surrounding the central building, some of them in multiple pieces. The one nearest Soap still had his mouth open in a silent scream, but half his face was gone.

"Found the rest of them." Soap's voice was a little hoarse.

"Fuckin' hell," Ghost breathed out behind him.

"Sitrep?" Price kept the request terse.

"Looks like the rest of the camp is here." Soap let his gaze drift over the bodies, absently noting injuries. "It's a fuckin' bloodbath, sir. Looks like a wild animal tore through 'em, but I've never seen an animal attack like this."

Price was silent for a few long seconds. "Can you safely get the intel? Any sign of what did this?"

"No sign of it," Soap answered first, eyeing the distance between him and the door. "I can make it, sir."

"Quietly," Price emphasized. "You see any trouble, you get out."

"Copy." Soap glanced back at Ghost. Ghost nodded once, shifting to better be able to cover Soap's back. One deep breath and Soap moved, stepping over and around bodies, his boots squelching through the muck.

He wrenched the door open, bringing his rifle up to check around the door. Nothing. No bodies inside, either.

He crossed the room carefully, but nothing popped out at him. He was quick to rifle through the desk, grabbing anything that looked useful and tucking it all away in his vest.

He got three steps towards the door before there was a roar, deep and rumbling. The very air shivered. Soap froze for a moment and then booked it, running straight to the door. Ghost jerked his head, beckoning him over, gun up.

Soap made it over to Ghost before there was another roar, this one louder.

"Move up," Ghost barked, pushing Soap up first. Soap moved fast, giving up silence for getting the fuck out.

They were almost out, the guard tower in sight, when something hit the tower. Something big. Very big. Mottled green and brown, the… thing blended into the jungle, nearly camouflaging the guard tower. It looked a bit like a cat, if a cat was fucking enormous and had spines on its tail. A mouth opened, showing off very big, very long teeth. This close, the roar shook the ground.

"Fuck!" Ghost fired at it first, recovering a fraction faster than Soap.

But the bullets didn't seem to do anything. The creature shook off the shots as if they were bug bites, body rippling. Soap couldn't quite hide his horror at that, even as luminescent yellow eyes fixed on him.

"Johnny MOVE!" Ghost fired off a few more shots, apparently hoping to distract it.

Soap ran. He could hear Ghost behind him, both of them heading for the jungle in hopes of losing the thing.

"Grenade!" Ghost called, and Soap swore softly. The boom rattled the ground, but both men kept their feet under them. The thing behind them screeched, an awful high-pitched sound that made Soap stagger briefly. A hand caught the back of his vest, shoving him upright and forward.

"This way," Ghost grunted, throwing himself to one side and half-dragging Soap along with until Soap course corrected. The two crashed through some underbrush, putting some trees and visible blocks between them and the creature.

And stumbled straight into four men, all filthy and wide-eyed and shaking. One of the men had a rifle, which he had lifted, but he didn't shoot.

For a tense moment, nobody moved. Soap did the math - he and Ghost would win this fight, no problem.

And then one of the men started screaming, looking behind Soap and Ghost. Moving on instinct, Soap threw himself to the side.

A massive paw landed where he had been a second before, bloody claws out and leaving gouges in the dirt. The creature roared, hackles up, teeth on full display, tail lashing side to side.

Soap didn't even see the tail coming until something slammed into him like a wrecking ball, sending him to the ground, gasping. Vaguely over the thrumming in his ears he heard a shout of his name.

And then nothing but roaring.

–

The first roar jerked both Gaz and Price to a pause, heads turning the same direction. It was fainter, probably on the far side of the camp.

But not a good sign.

“Hold here,” Price murmured, jaw tight as he tried to spot whatever had made that noise.

From their vantage point, Gaz could mostly see the camp. At least the outside layer of it. But not the bloodbath Soap had mentioned. For it to make Soap sound like that, it had to be bad.

The second roar was louder, angrier. Price moved, Gaz falling in after him. Gunfire prompted Price into a run, and Gaz grimaced. That was not a good sign.

“Soap, Ghost,” Price barked when the gunfire stopped. But there was only silence. “How copy?”

Gaz swallowed back the cold dread, focusing instead on listening for hints. Soap and Ghost would be fine, they were too damn capable to die out here. But he’d feel better if they had more backup.

Price paused, frustration in the curl of his fingers around his weapon. He scanned the jungle around them, waiting.

Screaming made for a good waypoint, and they both sprinted towards it.

And arrived just in time to see a barbed tail vanishing into the jungle again. Three dead unknowns lay on the ground, blood still spilling from their wounds. Ghost was swearing as he struggled to his feet, bleeding from a gash in his thigh. Gaz got to his side first, helping him steady.

“What the fuck happened?” Price asked, looking around.

“It took Johnny,” Ghost growled, low and vicious, angry in a way Gaz rarely heard. “Knocked him flat and carried him away. He’s still alive.”

Price breathed out hard once, gaze darting after the thing. “What do you know about it?”

“Not much,” Ghost admitted, holding still as Gaz got to work cleaning and wrapping his thigh. Fortunately it wasn’t deep - although once they got back to base Gaz had a feeling Ghost would be on some pretty intense antibiotics. “Shook off bullets like they were just flies. It’s big. Strong. Quiet.” He paused, hands clenching. “Didn’t see a scratch on it.”

Price nodded, absorbing that, taking a few moments to plan while Gaz worked. “We’ll track it,” he decided. “See if we can find Johnny, he’s our first priority. If you have a shot, aim for the eyes or the mouth, that might give it pause.”

“Copy,” Ghost grunted. Gaz took a step back, nodding once.

“How’s that feel?”

“Good enough,” Ghost grumbled, clearly antsy to get going.

Price gave him a hard look but then nodded. “On me, then,” he agreed. He started through the jungle, following the signs the creature had left - scoring against tree trunks, bent and broken foliage, paw prints in places. Gaz fell to the back, half to keep an eye on Ghost and make sure his thigh wasn’t a problem (Ghost occasionally downplayed his own injuries) and half because he sure as hell didn’t want to get between Ghost and the thing that got Soap.

If Ghost didn’t kill the thing, Gaz would be amazed. Ghost was just a little protective of his people.

Of course, so was Price. So was he, come to think of it.

The trail led them away from the compound, not the correct direction for their exfil point. Gaz kept a close eye on their direction and distance. He knew Price likely was keeping track as well, but, well.

Just in case.

Price paused, and Gaz stepped up to see what had caught his attention. And then blinked.

“Is that what we’re hunting?” he asked, a little faint. The thing was at least the size of a jaguar, although denser, with a barbed tail and tufted ears. The coloration was all wrong too - green and brown, not unlike a weird discolored tiger.

“Too small,” Ghost said, voice tight. “This is probably a youngster.”

A youngster? There were more of these things? Gaz swallowed hard.

“Well. Guess we know why it’s on a rampage.” Price nodded to the bullet holes in the youngster’s side.

“Doesn’t matter.” Ghost rocked forward, scanning the surrounding area again.

Price grunted his agreement and started forward again. Gaz took one last look at the creature before following.

It wasn’t part of their mission, wasn’t anything even really important, but he couldn’t help wondering where the fuck these things came from in the first place.

–

Soap groaned softly as he woke, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He ached, a dull throbbing all over, but especially his left leg. Attempting to flex that leg caused him to clench his jaw tight to hold back a pained sound.

Alright, that was a little fucked. What else?

He lifted his head slowly, looking around. Rocks rose around him, a thick tree trunk making a sort of wall, the dirt under him cool and dry. Someone else was laying a few feet away, one of the men he and Ghost had run into.

But this was very definitely not where he’d been last.

Alright. He could deal with this.

Sitting up was probably not his best idea, based on the way his ribs were protesting, but, well… Hard to defend yourself laying down. His vest was still intact, his rifle lost somewhere, but he still had a pistol on him. And grenades.

He could work with this.

Breathing carefully, Soap looked down at the rest of him.

Well. His shin was definitely not supposed to look like that. No wonder trying to move had been a bad idea.

Grimacing, he looked around. Would be great if he could find something to help him to his feet (foot). The other poor bastard stuck out here wasn’t moving, and Soap wasn’t sure if he was even still alive.

Soft growls caught his attention, and he looked around. Two more of the cat monster things were approaching, one of them hopping up on top of a rock. Both of them were notably smaller than the one he and Ghost had faced, maybe half the size.

Cubs. Kittens? What the fuck ever.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he grumbled, watching them carefully. He clicked the safety off, watching the two cat-things. The one on the rock stayed perched there, tail slowly swishing side to side, while the other one approached the prone man first. With a silent apology to the man, Soap slowly lifted his pistol. Hopefully these ones weren’t bullet proof, or he’d been in a load of trouble.

Not that he intended to get eaten by some wee beasties. (Nevermind the fact that said beasties were almost as long as he was tall.)

The cats didn’t seem to understand that he was dangerous at all, because they didn’t react to him moving. That was an unexpected bit of luck.

Soap steadied his breathing, biding his time. Wait until he had a clear shot. He’d have to move fast for this to work.

Assuming bullets worked on these smaller ones. If they didn’t… Well. He’d figure out another plan.

The first cat-thing batted at the prone man, playing with him. Soap swallowed. Almost there. The one on the rock was still waiting, apparently content to watch for now.

The cat moved, and Soap lined up the shot. Four shots in quick succession. The spray of blood and brain was a relief, and the cat went down.

That still left the other one.

That cat yowled, crouching, muscles bunching before it leapt. Soap twisted, ignoring the screaming in his ribs, and emptied the rest of the clip into the cat.

But that didn’t stop its trajectory.

“Oh fu–” Soap dropped the pistol, bringing his arms up to protect his head as the body collided with him.

–

All three men stopped at the first round of gunshots, Ghost tracking the sound and taking off before Price could tell him not to. Gaz huffed softly and sped up, scanning the area. The second set of gunshots made Price swear very quietly.

If that had been Soap, it was very unlike him.

Despite his injury, Ghost arrived first, sweeping the area. Gaz briefly clocked the two dead cat-things, more youngsters, before he noted the familiar pair of legs sticking out from under one of the corpses.

“Captain!”

Price grunted, moving to one end of the cat. “Carefully, Sergeant,” he rumbled. Together, they lifted the body off of Soap and dumped it to the side.

Soap groaned, eyelashes fluttering, remaining flattened to the ground.

“Johnny.” Ghost knelt next to him, leaning over him. Gaz had half a mind to scold him for it, but, well… He’d let it slide this time.

“Simon.” Soap blinked slowly. “Dinnae tell me. Not dead?”

“Not yet.”

“Well. Cheers.” Soap closed his eyes again, lifting one hand to hover protectively over his ribs. “Wee beastie might’a actually broken a rib. Or two.”

Gaz knelt on Soap’s other side, hissing out a low breath at the sight of his leg. That was going to make exfil harder. He glanced up at Price, who simply nodded once, grim.

“Soap,” Gaz started, leaning in closer. “Need to brace your leg, mate. It’s gonna hurt.”

“Aye, get on with it.” Soap closed his eyes again, focusing on his breathing.

Gaz hated this part of the job. Hated the feel of bone sliding under skin, back in place enough to be braced for exfil. Hated the muffled shout, the tension ratcheting tighter from all of them.

“Done,” Gaz said, leaning back. It was definitely only a makeshift brace, but it would do for now. “Can’t do anything for the ribs.”

“Right.” Soap breathed in carefully. “Are we buggin’ out yet?”

“Yes.” Price answered before the other two could. “We are getting to exfil immediately.”

Gaz stood and together he and Price helped Soap to his feet, holding him steady when he swayed a little. Ghost planted himself next to Soap, and Gaz exchanged a look with his captain.

Well. They were both injured, but they were also apparently determined to keep together. Fine. Ghost was well enough to keep Soap upright, at least.

A quick weapons check on all fronts (and a replacement mag for Soap’s pistol) and then they were off, leaving the bodies of the two cat-things and one unknown behind. It was slow going, but none of them said a single thing. Gaz brought up the rear, and that was fine with him. He could keep an eye on Soap and Ghost this way, make sure nothing else happened to the two of them.

The jungle around them was quiet, air thick and muggy. They didn’t have to worry about pursuit by hostile people, at least. Gaz glanced back behind them, searching for any signs of the cat-monster.

So of course it got in front of them, dropping down out of a tree nearly on top of Price. Gaz lifted his rifle, aiming for the eyes, jaw clenched as Price rolled away from the thing. It yowled, head rearing back and then shaking, giving Price time to get back to his feet and rejoin the group.

“Good shot,” Ghost grunted, aiming for the open mouth.

“Got an idea,” Soap said, voice strained. But he still pulled a grenade from his vest, lips tight as he waited.

Gaz swallowed when the cat thing faced them again, blood pouring from one eye and matting the fur. It roared, teeth fully on display, tail lashing.

And Soap threw the grenade.

“Shit–” Gaz barely had time to grab Soap, Ghost helping, before the lot of them were on the ground. The grenade exploded, the sound barely muffled, immediately followed by wet thumps and splats. Gaz waited until it stopped to lift his head. The cat monster was definitely dead, most of its head gone.

Well. Gone as in splattered all over everything, including the four of them.

Price groaned softly as he stood. “A little warning next time, yeah?” he huffed at Soap, though he readily reached down to help the sergeant to his feet.

“Worked, didn’ it?” Soap was grinning like the lunatic he was, eyes still tight with pain.

“Let’s get to exfil,” Price sighed, not letting go until Ghost was up and Soap was braced. “Before this fuckin’ jungle throws anything else at us.”

By the time they made it, Gaz wasn’t sure any of them had ever been more glad to see the helo.

#cod fanfic #this is just for fun

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