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guppydoll · 9 months

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This Isn't Barbie Land: Chapter 2

Ken x Fem!Reader

>:3 hehehehe. I've been in a bit of a writers block but here is chapter 2. Also don't hate me but it's left on a cliff hanger! I felt bad for no updating as much as I want to but I figured I give you all this teaser and how much fun chapter 3 is gonna be hehehehehe

I'll be completely honest this has been super hard to write. I want to just get it out but damn writing Ken is just exhausting. I also have a little plot in my head but I'm making it up as it goes. I'm used to writing something cute but don't worry my angsty hands will be ruining all of their fun shortly

This is 18+

Warnings: porn watching, almost smut, making out

Word Count: 2172

Ken didn’t expect that there was so much to being a real person. Drinking actual liquid, eating real food, and actually sleeping and time not passing by magically. He wanted to do everything with you. When you had made a makeshift bed on the couch for him, he ended up sneaking into your bed after you had fallen asleep. Which ended up in him being smacked in the head with a pillow when you woke up. Apparently there were some things people did alone, e.i. bathing.

He learned that when he barged in on you showering, naked and ready to join, instead of the “Hi Ken!” he expected you had screamed at him to get out. Ken also learned that being nude in front of each other wasn’t normal either. When you had exited the shower he had been waiting for you, still naked. Again, to his surprise, you slammed the bathroom door shut and hid from him. He tried to coax you out but you made it very clear that until he was clothed you weren’t coming out.

You ended up giving him your laptop and told him he could look up any questions he had when you went to work. Ken hated you leaving, you were gone for what felt like an eternity. What made it worse, by the time you got back you were too tired to do anything and went straight to bed. You explained to him that your job was only open late. You went to work at 3pm and arrived back at 11pm. Ken would try to sleep while you were gone but he just couldn’t. Why couldn’t you just stay home with him.

He moping on the couch, the laptop in front of him playing a video on horses. He had only been in the real world for a week and you had worked every single day. He partially understood why you felt so lonely, you were busy every single day working yourself to the bone. He snatched up the laptop and began typing away in Google.

Things to do for your girl after she’s had a stressful week

Ken gasped when the search engine corrected the word girl to girlfriend. Did those mean the same thing? His heart had that weird feeling again. Hammering away in his chest so fast he swore it would burst.

It didn’t take long before Ken had fallen down a rabbit hole of “Things to do for your girlfriend”. Some articles said to cuddle and kiss her, while another mentioned cooking a romantic dinner for her. Another said to buy her a gift, a necklace or chocolates. Ken didn’t know how to cook or have any money, and the thought of holding you tight caused his heart to soar. He began typing away once more.

Romantic dinners when you can’t cook

A list of restaurants nearby showed. He could take you to dinner but what would you do afterwards? You had mentioned something about dinner first then something else. A switch flipped in his brain, you said he should take you to dinner before beach sex. He had forgotten all about that! He had been meaning to ask you about what beach sex was earlier but you had been so busy he was more focused on getting to know you first in the small time he had with you. Ken knew everything there was about the beach and yet beach sex didn’t ring any bells. You had made it seem that beach sex comes after dinner, and if dinner would help relax you then beach sex must do the same thing.

Beach Sex

Ken clicked the first link there and it led him to a lot of videos. Videos of beach sex. It couldn’t hurt to watch just one, this was for you after all.

~~~~~~~~

It had been another exhausting night but you were thankful your seven day stretch was over and you had a full five day weekend. You knew you had to shop for groceries seeing as you were feeding two mouths now and also stop by the mall to buy Ken some clothes. He had only moved in with the clothes on his back and you hadn’t had time to pick some up for him. At least you had an obsession with men’s clothes for pajamas so at least Ken didn’t have to go naked. You cursed a little, remembering him being butt ass naked in front of you when you had been in the shower. You had expected a doll body but nope, he was fully equipped. You also had to give it to him, he was equipped very well.

“Ken, I’m home.” You opened the door of your apartment, kicking off your heels and bracing yourself for the immediate bear hug Ken always gave. Instead you were greeted to the sight of Ken, bug eyed watching your laptop, with loud moans and slapping noises blaring from its speakers. He was watching porn. Ken was watching fucking porn.

The blonde quickly paused the video and jumped up, rushing towards you. You wanted to shrink, avoiding looking anywhere near his nether regions, scared of what was most certainly there.

“You’re home already!” Ken beamed. “I lost track of time! I wanted to set up a surprise for you before you got back!”

“That’s very sweet of you Ken…” Excuses rushed through your brain, trying to find one that would allow you to lock yourself in your room.

“I want to say thank you for letting me stay, so I was looking things up on the internet websites that I could do.”

You wanted to scream, the internet was the wild west. Of course Ken would come across porn, you just didn’t think you’d walk in on him watching it. At least it had just been porn and not some insane website filled with awful garbage or a scam website that would fill your computer with viruses.

The gentle touch of Ken’s hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear pulled you from your thoughts. You looked into his eyes as he softly dragged his fingers over your cheek, then your jaw making you swallow hard. Ken’s face was stern and focused as his fingers drifted down your neck, his palm just ghosting over it.

“Ken? W-what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to help you relax.”

“Ah. Um, thank you Ken.” He was not relaxing you in the slightest. You pushed his hand away and began inching towards the bathroom. “But I’m gonna go shower, hehe you know how sweaty I get at work.”

“No.” Ken grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. The look he had was intense, you didn’t know how to react. You couldn’t meet his eyes, a blush crawling up your neck. You were used to his big smiles and shining eyes, not this.

“Ken..”

“I can’t cook for you or buy you gifts, but I can hold you. Kiss you. Fuck you.”

You would be lying if you hadn’t been eyeing Ken up for the past week. He was hot. He never wore a shirt or when he did it was always an open shirt. He would flex at you “subtly” whenever the two of you chatted. On top of that he was sweet and excitable, and so so beautiful. It was a small crush, now that crush just said he could fuck you.

“I looked up what beach sex was and in the videos they kept calling it fucking and the man said he would fuck the lady. So I searched what fucking meant and if that could help relax you. I learned sex, not just beach sex, can be therapeutic.” Ken grinned, very proud of the big word he used.

“Ken, it’s very sweet that you want to help me relax but sex isn’t something we should do together. Those people are couples, usually, sometimes not but that's not the point.”

“But you're my girl, apparently that's another word for girlfriend.” Ken pouted, stepping even closer to you.

“That’s not what that means in our context, Ken.” You stepped back, bumping into the door behind you. Damn, you really had failed at escaping.

“But it fits how I see you!”

“Ken you really only known me for a few days, you don’t-”

“But I’m your doll!” Ken cut you off, stepping even closer, trapping you against the door. You watched him fidget with his hands before he rested them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

You opened your mouth to protest again but Ken forced his mouth onto yours. The kiss was terrible. Sloppy and teeth clicking together. He was pressing too hard, letting neither of your lips move in sync. You slapped his arms sporadically trying to get his attention but he was lost in the kiss, if you could call it that. He finally pulled away for air and looked down at you with pupils blown wide and an even wider smile.

“Wow.” He moaned and you squeezed your legs tight. His voice was like honey and you needed to hear more.

“Ken..” You gasped, dumbstruck with what just happened. You were speechless as the blonde held you in his arms, who also noticed your hesitance. He took your hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beating of his heart.

“When I look at you, I feel things I don’t understand. When I was watching those videos, I kept thinking about you. I also learned that another name for sex is making love. I want to make you feel loved. That’s the reason why I wanted to find you.” Ken leaned in close to you again, hot breath tickling your face.

Fuck it, you had nothing to lose. You placed your hand on his cheek, leaning towards him and kissing yourself. Ken tried to push hard again but you pulled away to look at him.

“Gently Ken, let me show you.”

He kissed you again but softer, letting you take the lead. You ran your tongue on his bottom lip causing him to gasp. You took the advantage and pushed your tongue into his mouth. You swallowed the low groan he made, allowing him to push you against your apartment door.

“Y/N…”

Ken’s moans were music to your ears and you continued kissing along his jaw and down his neck. You bit down on his pulse and Ken bucked his hips into yours, forcing a whine from you.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“Okay!” Ken didn’t even struggle, lifting you with ease and carrying you straight to your bedroom.

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed and jumped back into kissing you. Ken was a faster learner, it didn’t take long before he was the one in charge of the kiss. His large hands roamed your body and you mimicked what you had done to him earlier, kissing along your neck and biting hard hard. He licked at the spot you knew that a mark was gonna form in the morning but that didn’t matter now. Ken was all that mattered.

“Pants off.” You fiddled with Ken’s belt and made a mental note to thank him for rarely wearing shirts. Ken excitedly hopped off the bed and dropped his jeans with record speed until he was on you again. He was excited, so excited he wasn’t allowing you to breathe. It had been so long since someone had smothered you with this amount of love. You actually weren’t sure if you’ve ever been shown this amount of love before.

Ken was touching you but not the same other men had. He was soft, admiring your bumps and curves. He didn’t fight with your dress, leaving it on, not even pushing his hands up the skirt. His hands ghosted over your breasts afraid to touch them. You had to shove his hands down onto you just so you could half of the friction you desired.

“Ken… let me get out of my clothes.”

Ken was a good listener, pulling back immediately. You finally got to admire the man in front of you. His face was flushed and a smile was plastered over it. Ken’s chest looked fake, the perfect contour of each muscle was mesmerizing. You sat up, one hand behind you finding your dress’s zipper and the other running down his chest. You paused at his navel and you played with the waistband of his boxers. His cock was straining hard against the fabric, begging to be touched. You danced your fingers over the bulge, forcing a whimper from Ken.

You retracted your hand, looking up at Ken. His baby blue eyes were watery now, shifting uncomfortably from the lack of your touch. You laughed and peeled off your dress, thankful for the constrictive clothing to be gone. Ken’s eyes looked as if they were going to explode from his head as he watched you unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts. This was gonna be fun.

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#ryan gosling #barbie #ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling smut #ryan gosling x reader #barbie 2023 #ken #ken smut #barbie movie

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omkookie · 11 months

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♡ Suitors ♡ · Silvio, Clavis Nokto and Luke. 🩷

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere themes, slightly suggestive, Murder. Fluffy yanderes 15+ ☺️

Silvio

He hates the man from the moment he sees him. How dare he approach you? It was very fucking obvious that you were HIS woman. You were covered in HIS Jewellery, wearing HIS fancy collar. It was clear as day that you were Silvio Ricci's possession.

No one should be approaching you. Especially not that sneaky cunt of a nobleman who has a reputation of being a womanizer. After he sees the nobleman put his hand on your waist, Silvio snaps and is by your side in a split second, his hands grabbing the guy so hard that his rings leave imprints on his skin. He shoves him away from you, and you take Silvio’s hand to immediately calm him down. You just know that Silvio will turn this into a fight if you don’t. Silvio huffs, still very fucking annoyed by the nobleman as nobleman dismisses himself, coming up with an excuse to leave, and apologizing profusely as he does so.

When he leaves, you pull Silvio in for a hug, Telling your sweet boy how happy you are of the progress he’s made, and how he didn’t do something like dumping the man in the sea. Silvio nestles his head into the crook of your neck and listens to you, feeling somewhat content with your praise as you give him your affection.

He’s still beyond jealous. How could a scummy little nobleman touch you? Especially when he knows that you belong to Silvio. HIs mere audacity was enough to land him dead in the sea behind the palace. If it weren’t for you, Silvio would have the man tied and then drowned. It’s only because of your kindness and your ability to deal with his yandere tendencies that he got away… That doesn’t fully mean that he gets off the hook though. Silvio is hateful, Very hateful and possessive. He’ll make sure that the man’s business turns into a living hell. May that be a lesson to the scummy nobleman never touch you again.

Oh, But Silivo’s jealousy will get toned down after you give him some kisses! Just don’t surprise him, and make sure that you give him a warning before you smooch him. You don’t want his face to turn the same color as a tomato’s while there are still other people around.

Or do you?

Clavis

“………”

A very long moment of silence, and cue to Clavis looking at the man with murderous intent. Ooh, what will he do to that man? He’ll dig a pitfall so deep for him, that he can fall in and possibly break a leg. He’ll fill it with poison ivy so that he gets problems with his respiratory system, and–

You notice your lover’s salty frown from across the room, then immediately know what’s up. You dismiss yourself and walk over to Clavis, enveloping your lover in your arms to hold him close. Clavis pouts, but hugs you in return before resting his cheek on your shoulder. “All he did was greet me. Clavis.” You tell him while snuggling against his chest.“

Clavis somewhat calms down, For now… And it’s only because you look so cute when snuggling against him. Still, In his head he schemes what he’ll do with the man late at night, before he returns home to you. He knows who the man is, and he knows how infatuated the man is with you.

That’s why he’ll deal with the matter later.

Now, Is it wrong, or is it right? Taking a person’s life just because they touched something that’s his? Was it immoral to be protective of what you hold dearest to you? Was it okay to stab someone, and then watch as the blood gushes out of them?

Clavis watches the blood seep out of the nobleman’s wound, and although he knows that he should feel guilt he feels nothing. In his eyes, he simply did what was right. The man shouldn’t have touched you. He shouldn’t have tried getting close to you, and it was his own damn fault that he was dead. Clavis kicks his body off of the cliff and watches as it plunges into the depths of a thick fog. The cold night air chills his skin, and the coppery smell of blood still lingers in the air. Letting out a resigned sigh, He decides to finally go back home to you. You’ll surely be waiting for him in bed, and he can’t wait to shower you in his hugs.

He’ll never hold another ball in his territory though.

Nokto

Oh. He’s mad alright.

He hates the man from the bottom of his heart. How could a disgusting insect like him kiss the back of YOUR hand? Nokto appears behind you and makes a show out of pulling you close to him by your waist, and then kissing your neck to show off that you’re his. Jealousy easily bubbles up within him when another man does as little as look at you. You are beautiful. Gorgeous, clad in one of the nicest looking dresses which he picked out for you. Other men getting to look at you was bad enough, But, having the audacity to touch you was foul. His display of affection, of course, makes the guy who kissed you leave awkwardly.

Nokto watches in annoyance as the man leaves, and then he pouts, looking like an annoyed little fox. He takes your arm to lead you toward the rose garden.

“Don’t go seducing other guys besides me now.” He teases you, trying to sound as unaffected as possible while you leave the ballroom together. But of course, you can see right through his facade.

In the garden, his lips are all over your body. His hands roam over your skin, and he sucks and kisses every inch of your chest. He loves you. He loves you so much, Your body, mind and soul. You’re perfect, and he adores you. So, don’t leave him no matter what, and don’t look at any other man. He’ll love you sweetly, and he’ll hold you even closer until his jealousy melts away… His jealousy of course, quickly dissipates when you cup his cheeks and kiss him. Your sweet words of reassurance make his heart melt, and he sighs in bliss as he rests his head onto your shoulder.

You coddle him all evening long, giving him your undivided attention and sweet affection. Needless to say, This wild fox is tamed and cuddly on your lap, absorbing all of the love that he can like a sponge.

Luke

Your protective boyfriend doesn’t leave you alone. That’s why, It comes as a surprise to both of you when a rather audacious man starts hitting on you right in front of him. You chuckle, clearly not fazed by the man’s flirty demeanor, and obviously finding him rather ridiculous. Luke, on the other hand, just watches as you reject his advances and laugh at him. You don’t waste any time entertaining the man, and simply hug your boyfriend closer. He wraps a protective arm around you, and shoots a piercing glare at the man so that he finally leaves.

Once left alone, you go back to munching on your honey’d snacks, and enjoying the theatre’s play. You have a nice day with Luke and forget all about the man from earlier,

Luke on the other hand hasn’t. He knows that the man who followed you to the theatre was a nobleman who was deeply in love with you, and thinking about how the guy must have been stalking you to get here was insufferable. He decides to take things in his own hands that evening so that the nobleman wouldn’t stalk you again. He waits for the man to appear behind a bar before grabbing him by the collar of his neck and slamming him against the building. Before he knows it, He strangles the nobleman to death– and then looking down at his hands, he feels guilty.

He let his obsession get the better of him, and allowed his impulsive decision to take control of him.

Luke comes home looking like a kicked puppy and confesses what has happened, expecting you to immediately berate him for what he did… But you don’t. He’s surprised when you sigh in exasperation but still comfort him, and tell him everything will be okay. You snuggle against your gentle giant and pet his head until he feels better, and his heart flutters when you run your fingers through his hair. Even after finding out about something like that, you were still so king. Even though he killed someone, you didn’t look at him like he was a murderer.

You still looked at him like he was your lover.

Luke hugs you tightly, then he kisses your forehead to thank you for not hating him. <3

@ala-rossi

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

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Lavender - Ch. 26

A trip outside the QZ turns dangerous. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-25 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Injuries from canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 5.2k

Tuesday, June 6, 2023 - Two Years Later

“I’m not doing this with you again, Joel,” Tess snapped, staring him down from across the table. “I’m not letting your obsession…”

“It’s not fucking safe, Tess,” he cut her off. “When was the last time we went out and didn’t run into raiders? Last two months have been especially bad…”

“You think it’s safe for you and me but not safe for her?” She demanded.

“No, it’s not safe for anyone,” he snapped back. “But you I trust to actually kill someone, you can take care of yourself. Who knows what the fuck she would do if she gets picked up by fuckin’ raiders…”

“Who knows what you would do if she gets picked up by fucking raiders, that’s what you mean,” she knocked back the rest of her drink. “I’m done with this shit, I’m done with your paranoia around Doc dictating our goddamn operation…”

“When have I ever dictated a damn thing about our operation?” His jaw clenched.

“How about when you told your brother, our partner, to leave town without consulting me because she got hurt?” She said. “Or when you killed not one but fucking two FEDRA guards in the QZ because you saw them as a threat…”

“They were a fucking threat!”

“Not to mention the time you made the call to leave me in the QZ when you took her outside the first time,” she snapped. “Even though you knew you’re a goddamn liability where she’s concerned! You need to get over this woman who you’ve had nothing to do with in damn near 15 years, Joel! She’s done with you, you need to be done with her. Fucking leave it.”

She went to leave but he followed her.

“You take her out there and I’m not goin’,” he said. “End of story.”

“Tell me what the fuck it is you want, Joel!” She yelled. “Because it sure seems like you don’t want to be anything to anyone. You didn’t want anything with me! It sure seemed like you could have had whatever you wanted with her and you didn’t take it and now you’re doing this and I don’t fucking understand you! Do you really think she’s just going to accept us not bringing her out anymore? That she’ll just listen to whatever the hell it is you tell her? Because you’ve got a funny taste in women if that’s what you’re after…”

“She isn’t one of us, she doesn’t have to know when we go out!” He yelled. “No one says we have to involve her in shit, Tess…”

“And when she asks?” She demanded. “When we need more medical gear?”

“We bring Andrew out,” he said. Tess stood there for a moment, just blinking at him. “He talked to me few weeks back. Wanted me to consider bringing him instead of her, he’s worried too. He’s heard shit from other smugglers and guards about what it’s like out there. He’ll go, she’ll still get what she’s after and he will actually fucking look out for himself. Besides, the chances of raiders trying to grab him are a whole hell of a lot lower than with her.”

“His wife know about this plan?” Tess asked, a bit calmer now.

Joel shrugged.

“Not my business.”

She looked at him, shaking her head.

“You better pray nothing happens to him,” she said. “Because if it does and she finds out it was your doing…”

Joel shrugged again.

“Long as she’s alive to hate me?” He said. “I don’t give a shit.”

Tess sighed.

“Fine,” she said, resigned. “Talk to Andrew. Tell Doc, don’t tell Doc, whatever. I’m done trying to make sense of your shit with her.”

She stalked toward the door.

“Going to the Speakeasy,” she said. “Appreciate it if you didn’t join.”

Joel sighed. He could hardly blame Tess, not when she was right. He poured himself more whiskey. He’d never been able to find a balance he felt like he could survive with you. There was so close that it felt like he was on the edge of a cliff and gravity was winning. The feeling that he was inches from destruction. But then there was so far that felt like he was stretching and reaching, part of him always trying to get to you. It didn’t matter what else it strained, what else it hurt, there was the constant pull toward you. There was no middle ground. There was either too close or not close enough.

He went to the clinic when he knew you’d be at school but Andrew still greeted him with a “She’s not here.”

“That’s the point,” Joel said. “Here for you. Rather she not know. Have a minute?”

Andrew flagged down a woman to watch the desk and led Joel outside the clinic.

“Next run, I’m not takin’ her,” he said. “Still interested?”

“Why the change?” Andrew frowned. “You weren’t going for that before.”

“Raiders are getting bad,” he replied. “You and me they’d just kill. Her…”

Andrew nodded.

“Can’t tell her,” Joel said. “Not until we’re back, she’ll try to stop you going.”

“Trust me, I know,” Andrew said. “Luckily, Doc is Doc and she keeps a thorough log of what meds she’s after and what’s she’s used. I won’t need to ask her for shit.”

“We’re heading out this weekend,” Joel said. “It’ll be a few days. Make sure your wife’s on board.”

He just nodded and Joel was thankful, once again, that you had a friend like Andrew.

***

“Doc,” Ellie sighed dramatically, drawing the word out as she trudged into your classroom and flopped into a desk, putting her head down. “I’m so freakin’ bored.”

“Hi, Ellie, I’m doing well, thank you for asking,” you smiled. “How are you?”

She raised her head enough to glare at you before putting it back down.

“If all I’m going to do is go shoot infected for FEDRA why do I have to know about verbs?” She asked.

“Because everyone needs to know about verbs,” you replied. “Can’t read or speak without them.”

“Can they make them less boring at least?” She lifted her head again. “Because right now they feel stupid as fu… something stupid.”

“Want something not boring?” You asked. Her head shot up. You smiled conspiratorially. “I got you stuff.”

“Oh fuck yes!” She winced. “Sorry. Heck yes?”

You just laughed and went into your school bag, pulling out photo copies of books that were in libraries of other schools that Derek got you into when he’d go teach his photography course. Ellie came and stood in front of your desk, leaning over to see what you were grabbing.

“Got this whole thing on black holes,” you said, handing her a packet. “This one on a probe that is still probably flying through space and should be past Pluto by now.” You gave her another packet. “And then this on roller coasters.” You gave her a magazine.

“Hell yeah!”

You gave her a look.

“What? I said hell,” she said. “That one doesn’t even count.”

“Go sit in your corner you gremlin,” you rolled your eyes but smiled anyway.

“Gladly,” she smiled, chin tilted up, and took her bundle of pages over to the beanbags. She started with the roller coasters as you put on a tape and started grading tests.

“Hey Doc?” She said after a few minutes.

“Hm?”

“Did you ride roller coasters?” She asked. “Was that like… a thing everyone did or was it kind of special?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “It kind of depended. Most people did at least once but it was still kind of special. There weren’t roller coasters near where I lived as a kid and my grandma didn’t have much money but I went to a theme park with a friend once when I was about your age. And a few times with a friend and his daughter when I was in college. I rode some roller coasters then. They were pretty fun but most of the time when you went to theme parks, you spent a lot of time waiting in line.”

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and went back to reading.

“Hey Doc,” Riley trudged in.

“Hi Riley,” you said, holding out the book she’d been reading when she came to sit with Ellie. She took it and went and plopped on the other beanbag chair. “Rough day?”

She just grunted.

“I’m here if you want to talk,” you said, going back to grading.

You weren’t surprised when she didn’t take you up on it. Ellie was far more likely to talk to you than her older counterpart. She’d come to your classroom almost every weekday for the past two years. For a while, she was pretty quiet. She’d bring in her reading or take from the shelf and go sit in the corner. You didn’t press her. A few months in, she’d do more than ask you questions about her reading. She talked about her classmates, the issues with FEDRA teachers and administration, about the comic books she liked. You’d started looking for the series she mentioned when you went to the underground markets or were outside the QZ as well as books about space. She’d quickly become a bright spot in your day.

Riley, on the other hand, had become more withdrawn the last few months. She’d never opened up to you the way Ellie had, but she seemed to like you better than her other teachers and she always put in an effort in class. But lately, she’d been tired, preoccupied. You’d tried talking to her but hadn’t gotten very far - something made all the more frustrating by the fact that you were pretty sure there was no one else at the school checking in with her. She was at risk of falling through the cracks of the system and you weren’t sure you were enough of a net to catch her.

Derek was always trying to tell you that you couldn’t save everyone and, consciously, you knew he was right. But that didn’t stop you from trying.

It’s part of why you’d pressed so hard working on your cordyceps treatment theory. It took years - literal years - of working with samples and trying different formulations but, earlier in the year you’d found something that actually seemed to work. The right chemical combination delivered in the right way and the samples didn’t grow. They stayed in the tissue where they’d been implanted, not stretching beyond it.

“Do you know what this means?” You asked Elias, all but shoving your notes into his hands. “We could make it so a bite isn’t a death sentence. It’s not going to cure anybody but it can make it so people can leave the QZ, go near infected to wipe them out without needing to worry as much… I mean it still needs trials but…”

“It’s a great idea,” he said, sounding exhausted. “But do you really think we’ll be able to get the powers that be to divert manufacturing to synthesize it? Let alone the process it will take to make the factories to produce the stuff?”

“Elias, we’re talking about something that can start getting the world back,” you looked at him, baffled.

“I know,” he clapped a hand on your shoulder. “And I’m telling you that I don’t know that there is a world to get back.”

You just stared at him for a moment in disbelief.

“I’ll run it up the chain,” he said. “But… I’m not optimistic.”

He walked away, leaving you alone with your notes in your hands.

So you did the next best thing you could think of. You found Marlene.

“This is…” she looked through your pages. “I mean, I don’t know shit about the science of it but your tests…”

“They’re not tests on living subjects,” you hedged. “I mean, in the before times we’d be years out from human trials but give that the bitten are pretty much dead men walking, if we can equip people going outside the walls with this stuff we can always just see if it works when the inevitable happens… It’s not a cure and it’s by no means a sure thing but it’s a start.”

“I’ll take a start.”

You weren’t able to get anything more out of Riley before the weekend and Andrew was out at work on Saturday, which made you oddly nervous. Marta said Jess said he was sick but something felt off. He’d been fine on Friday…

Derek was convinced you were being paranoid but you still woke up feeling uneasy on Monday.

Riley missed class entirely that day. Ellie looked particularly downtrodden at lunch but didn’t say much. When you asked if something was wrong, she just shrugged, looking distracted.

Andrew was still missing when you got to work.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Derek said when he came to meet you that evening. “He probably just has the flu or something. I’m sure Jess would have gotten you if it were anything serious…”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I know you’re right. I just… something doesn’t feel right.”

It set your teeth on edge. You couldn’t sit still, tapping your pen on charts when you had a patient, the front desk when you didn’t.

“Can you not hover?” Marta asked. “I’m not Andrew, for me it’s just weird.”

“Sorry,” you sighed when the front door of the clinic flew open and Tess and Joel came running in, all but dragging Andrew between them.

Your eyes went wide. Andrew was covered in blood, his head hanging limp. You screamed for help as you ran for him.

“What happened?” You frantically pulled at his clothes, trying to get to his skin. His face was pale and his eyes were closed. You looked back over your shoulder. No one else was coming yet. “Help me!”

“We were almost back,” Tess said quickly. “Raiders came out of fucking nowhere, Andrew was in back…”

You got the bloody shirt raised enough to see the bullet holes. You scrambled to stem the bleeding as Kristen and Lee came up from the back. You kept your hands on Andrew’s stomach, your skin turning red with his blood, trying desperately to hold him together. They started trying to move him and you moved with them, hands still on him, until someone held you back.

“You can’t help him,” Marta’s voice was thick, wet. “You can’t do it, it has to be someone else…”

“I can…” you reached for the doors but she held you in place.

“You can’t,” she said. “You’re too close, you can’t.”

You weren’t sure when you’d started sobbing but your face was wet and your vision was blurry and you were too covered in blood to do anything about it. You turned to Joel and Tess.

“Why was he out there?” You asked. Tess looked at Joel. You raised your voice. “Why was he out there!”

Tess looked at Joel again. He just stared at the ground.

It was like something in you snapped. Everything you’d tied up in him for decades, everything you’d felt, everything you’d longed for, everything you’d imagined existed for yourself in another time and place and world with Joel at core of it. It broke open, spilling out of you in a rush.

You shoved him. He didn’t move to stop you.

“It’s you, it’s always fucking you!” You pushed him again. “Decided you were done seeing me so you dragged him into it!” You threw your entire body weight at him. He caught you and held onto you until you forced him back. “I can count on one FUCKING HAND the number of people on this planet who are happy I exist and you had to take him? You hate me that fucking much?”

Joel’s eyes finally left the ground and met yours. He was was in so much pain you could almost feel it. You stopped pushing him. His shirt was covered in your bloody handprints.

“He has a wife! He has kids! He fucking matters to people and you dragged him into this?” You were panting for breath, still crying. You didn’t think you could stop crying if you tried. “I’ve spent half my life in love with you, Joel, half my fucking life begging to matter to you and instead you just…” A sob choked you for a moment. “I wish I’d never fucking met you. I wish you never touched me. I wish you never called me that night I wish you never came to fucking Boston I wish you just got the fuck out of my life and left me alone!”

You went to shove him again but arms appeared behind you and Derek pulled you back into his chest, holding you in place.

“I hate you!” You snarled it at him. “I wish it had been you, it should have been fucking you!”

He just stood there, staring at you for a moment as Derek held you tightly to him, before Joel turned and left. After a moment, Derek’s grip on you loosened. Your head spun.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tess was staring at you. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about…”

“Fuck off, Tess,” you snapped. “You could have put a stop to it, you could have just not let him come…”

“Not Andrew,” she shook her head, stepping close to you. “Joel. How dare you. The shit he’s done for you, the shit he’s gone through for you…”

“For me?” You snapped. “No, it had nothing to do with me! It’s always been about him, Tess, and you’re a fucking idiot if you don’t see that.”

“You could have walked away at anytime,” she all but snarled at you. “You could have actually stayed away from him, told him no when he fucking caved and you never did, you never fucking did…”

“You think it’s my fault?” You snapped. “All his shit…”

“You could have left him with me!” She yelled. She took a second to calm down. “You could have left him with me and you fucking didn’t. You just hung on…”

“Of course I did,” you said, quieter now, too. “I didn’t have a choice.”

She looked at you, the side of her shirt wet with Andrew’s blood.

“I’ll go tell his wife,” she said. “I hope he makes it.”

You felt unsteady on your feet and Derek’s arms went around you guiding you to a seat in the empty waiting room. You looked down at your hands, splotched with drying blood. Andrew’s blood. You stared at the wall.

Jess came in. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but she was frantic. You stood up and she grabbed you, choking on her tears. You held her loosely, still in a daze, and she sat beside you, holding your bloody hand. Derek’s hand was on your back. You stared at the wall. You weren’t sure if you were really blinking. You weren’t sure time was passing. You weren’t sure how long you sat there. The blood on your shirt hardened as it dried. Jess’ hand stayed firmly in your own.

Lee came out from the back and you and Jess jumped to your feet, hands still clasped tight.

“It was close,” he said. “But he pulled through.”

You didn’t really hear anything else Lee said after that. He let you back to see him and he was just coming around when you did, his eyes heavy and voice groggy.

“What happened?” He managed after Jess had fawned over him for a minute.

“You were a dumbass who went outside the QZ,” you tried to sound upset about it but you were too happy to see him alive. “What were you thinking?”

“Wanted to be the cool one for a change,” he smiled a little at you. You just rolled your eyes.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” you leaned over and kissed his forehead. “But I swear to God Andrew you pull that shit on me again…”

“I know, I know,” he said. “You’re the cool one and you’ll kill me to keep the title.”

You went back to the waiting room. The clinic was closed but it was shortly before curfew and Derek was standing near the door.

“Hey,” you sighed, coming over and pressing your forehead into his chest, expecting his arms to go around you. They didn’t.

“He looking OK?” He asked. His voice was distant. You frowned.

“Yeah,” you pulled back from him. “Everything OK?”

He laughed darkly.

“No, no I can’t say everything’s OK,” he shook his head. Your frown deepened. “Is Joel the reason you wouldn’t move in with me?”

You froze. You had been so mad at Joel you’d forgotten that Derek was even there. Derek, who you’d never told about Joel.

He pressed on.

“Is Joel the reason that, when I asked if you thought about children, you said no?” He asked. “Jesus Christ, we’ve been together for almost seven years and you never thought to tell me you were in love with another man? A man you were regularly leaving the QZ with?”

“Derek…”

“Did you ever love me at all?” He looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Fuck, I tried to build a life with you!”

“Of course I love you…” You were crying again. You weren’t quite sure when you started. “I just… It’s different and… Nothing happened with him, it’s been years, it’s been so long and…”

“But you still loved him,” he said. “Right? You were still in love with him the whole time you were with me, right?”

You didn’t say anything. You just tried to keep from sobbing.

“That’s what I thought,” he ran a hand through his hair, turning away from you. “Fuck!”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you I just…”

“You just what?” He asked turning back to you. “You just thought you’d lie to me forever?”

“I just thought I could love you,” you said. “I do love you, it’s just not the same as him but I thought… I thought it could be. That if I ever could with anyone it would be with you because I do love you, I want to love you that way, I want a life with you…”

“Wanting it just isn’t enough,” he shook his head, a look of sad disbelief still on his face. “Especially not after you lied to me for half a goddamn decade. It’s just not enough.”

“Derek…”

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “I can’t do this, not with you. I hope you get what you want someday, I really do. But I can’t do this.”

He left and you stared out the front door, into the darkness, for a while. You weren’t sure how long. Eventually, you walked in a daze to Andrew’s room. Jessica had her head down on one side of his bed, his hand on her head. You pulled up a chair to the other side of him.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you managed a smile.

“20 years later and we’re still the codependency crew,” he smiled back.

“Yeah,” you sat down and put your head down beside him. “We are.”

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

“You know you don’t need to keep coming over, right?” Andrew asked, smiling down at you from the couch, his head propped on his fist. “Don’t need as much help now…”

“Who said I was coming over for your benefit?” You scoffed. You were lying on your back, baby Jonah - named for Andrew’s father - on your chest. He was big enough that he was just starting to run and it seemed like he wanted to do that and nothing else. You swooped the toddler toward your face and blew a raspberry on both cheeks before lifting him straight up overhead, making whooshing sounds. He giggled and clapped his chubby little hands. “I’m clearly just hanging out with my best friends.”

Elizabeth came over and hung her head over your own, her curls bobbing as she cocked her head at you.

“Auntie Doc,” she said, her voice very serious. “Did you know your teeth are bones?” “Are they really?” You said. “Thank you so much for telling me, that is very big news…”

“We’re reading a book about the body,” Jess flopped on the couch beside her husband. “We learned about the skeleton today.”

“OK sweetie, Auntie Doc’s arms are getting tired so you have to move so I can bring your brother in for a landing,” you said. Elizabeth scrunched her nose but obeyed, stepping to the side so you could bring Jonah back down to your chest.

“Who needs the gym when you have tiny humans to lift, hm?” You kept a hand on Jonah while reaching out to tickle Elizabeth, who shrieked and giddily fled toward the other side of the coffee table.

“Alright tiny ones,” Andrew clapped his hands on his legs. “Bed time, let’s go.”

He got up - slowly - off the couch and you lifted Jonah so he wouldn’t need to bend all the way down to reach him. Elizabeth whined all the way down the hall. You smiled.

“I know a lot of it didn’t work out but damn,” Jess sighed. “You’d be such an amazing mom.”

Your heart clenched at that.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

“Are you planning to stay here again?” She asked. You lifted your head to look at her.

“I feel like you’re asking me not to,” you smiled a little.

“Not exactly,” she crinkled her nose. “But Andrew had his follow up today with Lee and…” she glanced down the hallway before lowering her voice. “I really want to f-u-c-k my husband now that he’s cleared for it which is a little tricky with you there.” You laughed.

“I mean I guess if you want to have THAT kind of relationship with the guy,” you said dryly.

She laughed, too.

“Look, I’m definitely not kicking you out,” she said. “Lord knows he probably cock blocked you enough through the years when I was outside the QZ for work. If you won’t be OK at home, stay here with us…”

“No,” you sighed. “I need to get used to it.”

You’d hardly been to your apartment since Andrew got hurt. You’d only slept there twice since outside a few naps here and there. Otherwise, you’d been at Andrew and Jess’ place. At first, it was to help with the kids. Or that was the excuse you told yourself, anyway. Andrew had barely even made it into the apartment after being released. He needed help doing everything for weeks and you wrangling the kids gave Jess the space she needed to take care of him. The clinic had all but removed you from the schedule while Andrew recovered, you coming by for a while on Saturday and Sunday but otherwise just teaching and helping them. You’d started going back for a few hours most days but you were still at Andrew and Jess’ place all the time otherwise.

You knew your apartment was going to feel lonely. Not just because Derek was gone but because you’d smothered the loss with Elizabeth and Jonah and the feeling of being needed. It was time to get back to real life.

“You’re sure?” She said. “Because I mean it, you can just move in if you want…”

You laughed at that.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll go home. It’ll be good for me, I need to start adjusting.”

“Hey,” she said, making you look at her. “You know we love you right? Me, him, the kids? Because we do.”

You smiled.

“Love you too.”

You were right, your apartment was lonely. The air was stale and everything had a fine layer of dust. You made a mental note to try to set aside time to clean the place the next day, it desperately needed some TLC. As you went to bed you sighed and opened the bedside table drawer. Below a few notebooks was the picture of you, Joel and Sarah.

It hadn’t sat by your bedside in years now. You took it out sometimes to look at when you were home alone but it always went back in the drawer when you were done, tucked away. Your fingers traced the contours of their faces. You wondered what Sarah would look like now. She’d have been the same age Joel was when you first got together - a little older, actually. That was difficult to picture.

It was hard to think of her in that way. She’d gotten stuck in time, forever nothing but potential. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to be yet, so you had a hard time picturing her having a career - just images of her looking happy and successful. But you could picture her in a wedding dress, Joel walking her down the aisle with a proud smile on his face. Her cradling a tiny baby with his mother’s springy curls and his grandfather’s nose. Her giving advice to her little sister - now a teenager with long dark hair and her dad’s warm brown eyes - about how to survive college.

It didn’t seem to matter how much Joel seemed to hate you, how much you desperately wished you could hate him, he’d been built into you somehow. You couldn’t shake him, no matter how hard you tried.

You put the picture back in its spot beside your bed and tried to sleep, feeling more alone than you had since Joel left you before the outbreak.

It wasn’t a deep sleep. When there was a quick, quiet knock at your door, you woke with a start. You frowned, glancing at the time. It was well after curfew. You got up and looked through the peephole and saw Ellie, huddled against your door.

You fumbled with the locks, rushing to get the door open. She hadn’t been in class in a week, you’d asked several administrators where she was and no one would give you a straight answer. You’d gone by her room to check on her and she was nowhere to be found but she hadn’t taken much with her if she’d left. You were about to go to Elias and try to leverage what little FEDRA connections you had to see what records they had about where she’d gone, see if you could get to her. Riley had vanished, too, and you just prayed Ellie hadn't gone after her.

Instead, she’d shown up at your door. You’d given her your address and schedule months ago when she showed up in class with a black eye.

“You ever feel unsafe,” you said. “Come to me. I will help you, I will drop whatever I’m doing and I will handle it, OK?”

“OK,” she said.

She hadn’t shown up with a black eye since. You hadn’t pressed.

“Ellie,” you pulled her into your chest the second the door was open. Her eyes were teary. She looked exhausted. “Where have you been, what’s been going on? I’ve been asking administration where they sent you but…”

“Doc,” she sniffed as she pulled back from you and held out her right arm. You gasped, your hand going to your mouth. There was a vicious bite there, the teethmarks deep in her flesh. “I’m in trouble.”

A/N: AND WE'VE REACHED THE SHOW TIMELINE BUCKLE UP FOLKS!

Yes, everyone got super blown apart this chapter. That's the goal, they're at their most emotionally vulnerable just at the start of this big trip, it's going to be great and angsty and they're going to be forced to reckon with their shit because it's right at the surface heading into these extreme situations GET READY!

I have a taglist that I do my best to keep current, so if you'd like to be added please comment below!

Thank you so much for reading and interacting and getting into this story I decided to write one day. It means so much to me that you're invested in it and I love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings @arizonadaydreamer @mumma-moonchild @blackroseguzzi @candypeaches16 @kittenlittle24 @wrappedinfiction @oatmeaiboy

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #enemies to friends to lovers

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leclsrc · 1 year

Note

Broooo your last Drabble was so good

If you don’t mind can I request a part 2 🥲

fin de siècle – cl16

genre: drabble, angst

auds here... a part 2 to this as multiple requests came through for it! listened to a lot of mid-air by paul buchanan for this one. hope u enjoy! :)

“Sorry. It’s bad luck for you to see the bride on her wedding day.”

Charles nods once, lips pursed in poorly hidden disappointment, flexing his fingers in the pockets of his slacks. The huge door to your room closes with a click that’s as soft as it is damning, leaving him alone in the hallway of this obsolete Sicilian property you’re getting married in later tonight. Outside, the Ionian sea crashes softly against the cliffs near the gardens, sun unrelenting and humid on the staff setting up outside.

Maybe your friend doesn’t know this, but she should: Charles has always been afflicted with bad luck.

If being stuck with a slow car and slippery roads during vital races isn’t proof enough, Charles has much more to share. A stubbed toe occurs thrice a week, a hit head twice. He’s half-sure he should sue the universe for damages. He constantly runs into black cats, has looked up to find he’s underneath a ladder multiple times, and accidentally opened five umbrellas indoors. Call him superstitious, but to him, that’s quintessential bad luck.

His dress shoes click against the tile. He gazes down at them, remembers he needs to change them out for the ceremony later. He’s busy comparing the black of his shoes to the color of the tile, the contrast between light and dark. He hears slurried, anxious Italian and looks up. He’s under a ladder.

“Che sfortuna,” the staffer says apologetically, fixing the lights. Charles waves him off. He’s used to this.

Often, though, he remembers that being so riddled with bad luck means his moments of fortune are rare. Precious, like the gemstone on your finger. They’re individual, plucked out like shrines, orbs of love and overflowing happiness. Wins, successes, health. He pauses in front of the lobby, where there’s an assortment of hors d’oeuvres tables and signs pointing to the massive library where the main event will be held.

The main event for Charles has always been you. And he’s positive he was at his luckiest when you met.

You’d met at a race in Monza, back when Charles was just getting started in Formula 1. You’d never touched a mic, or conversed with a driver; both of you were getting used to growing up. Your clumsy French matched his clumsy English until you were both barely clumsy, sliding in and out of the two languages with natural skill.

Charles said he loved you just six months later. Distressed and a bit psyched out, it’d taken you a month to ease back into it and admit you loved him, too.

A year marked moving into Monaco, and infiltrating each others’ friend groups. You’d play poker with Max and Pierre, and Charles would play trivia nights with your friends, despite not understanding some of the references. (He confidently answered Lionel Messi when prompted: who discovered Facebook. He refuses to elaborate, to this day.)

There may have been fights and squabbles, but Charles always circled back to loving you. He stares now at the library from afar, still being tidied and rearranged. He debates entering, but figures he’ll surprise himself. He’s never doubted your insane organizational planning skills, and is sure this event is no exception.

He turns to explore the gardens and bumps into Will Buxton, of all people. “Charles?” Sharl, it sounds like, in the guy’s signature English cadence.

Will continues. “What’re you doing here? And roaming around? You should be”—he pushes him toward the rooms area—“resting. Nobody’s allowed around here, let alone you.”

“Needed to talk to her,” Charles explains, his voice low and rough with unuse.

The elder laughs. He’s holding a big pile of organza, no doubt a decoration for somewhere or other. “I’ll bet my spleen you weren’t allowed to. That’s bad luck.”

He throws his hands up in defeat and walks outside, opting to take the long route. This way he’ll have scenery before retreating to his room. It’s quiet, but he suspects much of the bustle is inside each room, where everybody’s getting dressed and preparing.

He’s glad is isn’t overcast, is all—that’s the one thing you emphasized you would hate today.

Sometime in your third year of being together, you and Charles finally talked marriage, together drafting a list of yes-and-no’s. He remembers the night as clearly as he can, like he’s just staring passively at the back of his hand. You’d been fixing the apartment, because according to you, the sofas needed to be rearranged.

Once they were, you claimed it didn’t match the coffee table. So the coffee table was moved to the balcony, the balcony table moved inside. Then a problem with the wall art, then the TV, then the curtains, then the decorations on your dining table. Spent and sweaty, you collapsed on the rearranged couch.

Equally tired from heeding your orders, he’d cranked the window open and flopped down beside you. Monaco was descending into a deep blue, after dusk had turned the room orange, set it on fire. You’d leaned into him. “I love it, but I think we just need a place together.”

That’d birthed the conversation of marriage. Neither of you were opposed to it. On a supermarket receipt and old prescription notice, you’d both jotted down what you wanted out of your wedding. He’d put: need a nice, tiered cake, with flowers on it. You’d put: bouquet of just lilies, baby’s breath, and two sprigs of basil, so it’d smell good when you pressed your nose to it.

He’d put: no bachelor/ette parties. You laughed out loud and nodded. It’d be a trivia night for all your friends, you decided together. You’d put, then: ceremony in a library. “The one thing I’ve always wanted,” you swooned.

He’d give it to you, he told himself then. He would. One of your big no-no’s was a rainy wedding day, which meant your previous dream location (somewhere in coastal England) was immediately out. You mulled over Greece, maybe even within Monaco, or France.

“We have time to decide,” he said. “Haven’t even proposed.”

“I expect the precious gemstone on my finger next year,” you said. “And no big proposals, please.”

“Oh, God. Must cancel the London Orchestra, Queen’s guards, and Coldplay’s special appearance as early as now, then?” You rolled your eyes, laughing before you kissed him. The list-making and subsequent reviewing had taken so long, your kiss was illuminated only by the full moon.

“Any other misgivings?” He’d chuckled, a kiss pressed to your jaw.

“We need to stay all night,” you croaked. “Leaving early is bad luck.”

Charles is by no means religious, nor is he superstitious, but he well and truly thinks luck and God might have been on his side when it came to being yours.

He hasn’t seen you yet tonight, stationed beside Carlos and narrowing his eyes to predict when the big doors will open and let you through. Right then, the violin beats to life and everyone around him turns, faces blotched with tears and frozen with awe. Like always, you’re beautiful. Charles doesn’t need to see you in a veil and dress to realize this.

Your hair is pinned into a loose bun, your bouquet of lilies and basil green and lush. The big windows tint you a rosy orange in the Ionian sunset. You walk gracefully, slowly, swaying to the violin music. Your dress, like many of the ones you’d dreamed of then, is satin and simple. A high neckline, ending above your heels that click on the tile. You’re a brilliant force of nature, he thinks.

You gaze up, smiling. Forget Sicily. You’re the prettiest here.

Charles looks down, to remember if he’s changed his shoes, to remember the contrast of the tile. He needs to channel his emotions somewhere. Maybe if he looks down, gravity will just let his tears of overwhelm fall silently. His gaze is rooted to the floor, to occupy himself so he doesn’t feel his heart rip out of his chest when you pass him by.

He takes a seat, with Carlos, watching you laugh and tear up yourself, your gaze stuck on your groom. The officiant announces the exchange of vows, and Charles can’t help but let his mind wander all over again, plant itself into memories long gone—like the day you’d mocked up your supposed wedding vows.

You had let him read yours, which willed him into a steadfast spot of never letting you read his, ever. He’d folded up the yellow pad paper he’d written it on and stashed it somewhere secret. It was the first thing he sought out when he sold the apartment after he cheated on you.

Later, at the reception, he loses his appetite but maintains a generally cheerful demeanor despite himself.

The small talk is stuffy, and Carlos is off dancing with Isa, so he’s alone. Halfway through a glass of Scotch, he turns and is met by your hand almost tapping his shoulder.

“Oh, my G—sorry!” He says profusely, downing the rest of it.

“All good,” you say with a laugh. “Lissie told me you wanted to talk earlier?”

“Oh, that,” he quips with faux nonchalance. Suddenly his whole plan, to give you a letter that had some of his old vows written into it, seems like a stupid, immature idea. “Well, I… was just going to wish you a great day. Considering everything, I’m just glad to be invited.”

“Don’t say that,” you insist softly. “Everything’s okay between us.”

“Yeah,” he says. It’s more of an attempt to convince himself than you. “Yeah.”

“Well, have fun. I hear the dessert bar is amazing.”

He watches you walk away again, and takes a tiramisu from the dessert bar.

Three bites later, retrieves his jacket from the coat check room, and ducks quietly out of the party when the third slow song of the night just starts to play, illuminated only by the full moon.

—

Being here To be able to I’ve been As nervous as

If I told you and everyone here that I wasn’t poetic, I’d be lying. (People will laugh at this, honey.) Because although I’m not a wordsmith, in both my native tongues let alone my English, I seem to always find the best things to say about you and about our love. A dream that’s rivaled those of racing is my dream of growing old with you, and this is finally it. It’s finally happening. I wouldn’t trade anything for it.

Vows are about promises. I only have one. I promise to love you forever. Whatever it takes to keep it, I will. If it means letting you sleep in, I’m up by 5. If it means losing a race, consider the car unfinished. (Will Mattia like this joke?) If it means paving a walkway or building a library, I have the tools I need. It might get difficult, but in these moments of hardship, I promise everyday to make it easy for the both of us.

(I think these vows are just me raving about you, bug…)

Call it luck, call it fate. I’ll call it my moves. (Yet another great joke babe!) How could I ever have gotten a woman so beautiful, so unlike any other? The idea that we are so small compared to the universe makes no sense to me, because the fact that you and I are both here, existing, now, is proof enough that the cosmos granted my wishes.

I love you—

Even in my moments of bad luck,

Even when you’re giving me the cold shoulder,

Even when we’re 3,000 miles apart, and

Even if one day, you might no longer be mine.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader

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enkvyu · 11 months

Text

10:56pm — albedo;

break ups are messy, the lingering feelings of preserving love never ceasing to cling onto day-to-day objects, reminding you of sweet what-ifs. sometimes, you can see its remains piled onto a familiar jacket hanging abandoned in your closet, and amogst the dust, what is that staining its fabric?

you think it would have been better if you just hated him.

maybe then it would have been easier, easier to tolerate, easier to forget. but the reason you love him remains even when his love has long but fizzled out.

“name.” albedo calls, and it takes every fibre of your being to stop yourself from running away. oh, if the ground could open up and swallow you whole right now.

still, perhaps its that damned love that makes you turn with a smile on your face. “albedo, did you need something?”

“you came at the perfect time. sucrose went out moments ago but i needed a participant for my experiment. would you mind helping out?” his voice is as you always remembered and with a bitter thought, you wonder if your separation had affected him like it did you.

you wonder if your love had ever affected him, ever.

“the experiment can’t wait until she comes back?”

“something like that.”

you hum thoughtfully. “sorry, i’m a little busy. i could find someone else to help you though.”

albedo regards you. “it won’t take long.”

“i really don’t think i can.”

“because you’re too busy?”

“right.”

you don’t move. it’s that damned love again, holding you in place because though you hate it, hate how he looks at you like he still loves you, hate how he’s right there, within an arm’s reach and if you tried you could hold out your hand and touch him again, you know you can’t.

“name, listen. is this about what we had?” albedo speaks up again, and against better judgement, you bristle.

“what do you mean?”

“i can’t help but feel you’re uncomfortable around me because of something in the past. please correct me if i’m wrong.”

“you’re wrong.” you lie and your heart shudders at your words. “i don’t care about whatever was in the past. it's in the past for a reason."

“i didn’t mean to hurt you, name.” he takes a step forward, feet crunching in the snow.

you suck in a breath, equally taking a step back. “you know, you’re really bad at comforting people. especially considering the fact that i don't need comforting.”

the way he looks at you, like you're just another broken thing he could fix with enough research, like you're something curious to him, like you're interesting. like you're an anomaly he can't wait to flip inside out and back around. he's always looking at you, never with you.

"name." he says again, like you'd forgotten your name and he was the only one who could tell you who you were. "let's have a talk. i don't like having this distance between us."

but oh, who cares if he'll never treat you like a person, who cares if he's only playing around with you? you'd throw yourself off a cliff if you could guarantee he'd watch you the entire time, that distant, faraway look in his eye like you're only taking up his time until you're no longer special.

"i don't want to talk to you." you choke out. "we don't need to talk. there is nothing between us, no distance, no feelings, nothing. can't you let me go now that you've left me behind?"

"so i was right." albedo nods. "it is indeed because of our past relationship. i understand now."

"you don't get anything!"

"it's okay to get mad."

"oh, shut up albedo! can't you see that you're only making things worse?"

"i just wanted to let you know that your feelings are as expected."

you laugh and hope it covers up the pathetic sob that escapes your throat. instead, it only sounds more disgusting. you hate that you worry what he thinks of you still, maybe that's why you had taken more time than usual leaving your house.

"you really know nothing. despite all the time you spend locked up studying archons know what, you know nothing more than everyone else."

albedo and his stupid gaze, albedo and his know-it-all, it feels all too condescending. "insulting me won't make you feel better."

"but i want it to." your nose runs, and you're not completely certain it is because of the cold snowy air.

"let's continue this inside. it would worry me if you caught a cold." he angles his body to let you in and when you catch a glimpse of the interior, you feel a cold that penetrates to your bones.

the traveller meets your eye and gives you a smile, though their eyes are unsure. "is this the other participant to your experiment?" they ask innocently.

albedo looks away from you to nod, unfreezing you from your spot. without another word, you take a step back, then another and finally turn your back to the place you once call home, running into the nothingness hoping that same nothingness could numb your heart.

you're aware of the fact that he's yelling your name behind you, but those shouts easily die out in the wind. for once, you are thankful for the cold. it hurts, the chilling wind giving you whiplash from the burning sensation in your lungs as you run wherever your feet take you.

oh archons, he's already moved on. he's found someone else, i was that disposable to him. he's find someone else. i'm no longer the only one for him.

the first sob comes out overflowing. it spills everywhere as it's finally released. the next isn't as easy, you're gasping in as much air as you're releasing, but the one after that is less painful. forget him, your brain is screaming, you deserve better, it's saying.

but even as you cry out your poor, withered heart, you're hoping he could see you somehow and take in your pitiful self. still, somehow, you're hoping that he's intrigued with your wild reaction and you're still wishing he was watching you as you drop to the snow, you're still hoping he'll wrap you in his cold embrace.

#albedo x reader #genshin ff #albedo angst #albedo hc #genshin impact #genshin x reader #albedo x you #genshin imagines

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teecupangel · 1 year

Note

Had another funny plot idea. Desmond in the Crusades, trying to stop certain things. Altair and co still go to Solomon's temple, only when they reach the end, all the Templars, including Robert de Sable, are dead and there's an unknown 'assassin' holding the treasure Al Mualim wants. And Desmond is staring at them like he just got caught at midnight with his hand in the cookie jar. (Where'd the time go? He thought he had like, another fifteen minutes to escape before they got there. Shit.)

You… you do understand what this means, right?

We now have, in our hand, the honored tradition of…

Altaïr chasing his target all over the city.

And this time it isn’t some Templar who has guards on his side.

No, no, no.

This time it’s with an unknown (most probably) Assassin who has the skills of three Master Assassin and a Grand Master (and maybe, just maybe, the vague Bleeds of a pirate).

So when Desmond panicked and booked it, Altaïr was immediately hot on his tails before Malik could even try to suggest they talk it- Nevermind, they’re already too far for them to hear Malik.

Malik and Kadar would stay behind just to confirm the kills (and realize that they were all killed by a sharp blade but not technically a hidden blade, perhaps a dagger or even a throwing knife of some kind… two of the guards were taken out by surprise at the same time, most probably, and there was a hint of a strange smell in the air…)

Back to Desmond and Altaïr…

Their chase would definitely have this kind of vibe:

And they would be freerunning all over Jerusalem, from the busy streets to the rooftops, ignoring the guards who try to shout at them and sometimes they’d even take the time to take those guards down when they try to apprehend them but then the chase would continue.

Desmond didn’t actually have a plan other than get to the stables and grab a horse, hopefully outrun Altaïr.

Hell.

He didn’t even know where he planned to go.

Anywhere but Jerusalem, that’s for damn sure.

Goddammit, he should have made more smoke bombs!

Desmond got his wish and he finally managed to get a horse from the stable, Altaïr hot on his tail.

He had hoped getting a horse would give Desmond enough distance for him to finally escape Altaïr.

And, seriously, his legs were killing him and his lungs were about ready to explode, he hoped Altaïr was the same.

Desmond’s horse was fast and it wasn’t long before they were out of Jerusalem.

And that’s when Desmond realized he fucked up.

Because he had picked the first horse he saw, all in the hopes of quickly distancing himself from Altaïr.

But Altaïr…

Altaïr picked his horse.

The same horse he had been using for a while now.

The same horse that was noted to be one of Masyaf’s finest…

And fastest…

Well.

Fuck.

Desmond knew he was screwed the moment Altaïr’s horse caught up with him, galloping next to him.

And Altaïr…

The motherfucker tackled him off of his goddamn horse and Desmond couldn’t help the yelp of indignation that left his lips as he was suddenly bodyslammed off.

Now, a common reaction would be to try and fight off one’s assailant while they’re falling.

But Desmond..

Desmond trusted Altaïr.

And so, instead of fighting him off, he wrapped his arms around Altaïr’s arms and embraced him tightly as he braced for impact.

Too surprised by Desmond’s action, Altaïr forgot the next part of his plan which was to grab the horse’s reins so that they would fall to the ground nearby.

Instead…

They both skidded and rolled until…

They both fell to the nearby cliff, plunging into the uncaring wild currents below.

#yeah #i’m ending it there #if you really want to be cliche #they end up in a cave #cold and wet #needing to take off their clothes to dry them off #and then the whole ‘it’ll be warmer if we stay close’#or… you know #the currents is what finally gives desmond a chance to escape #and now altaïr will be ‘obsessed’ with finding him #ask and answer #no usual tag because #come on #it’s gonna be #altdes

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 6 days

Note

Headcanon that Black Mask likes to make his partner wear a black choker 24/7. It’s more elegant than a collar but it gets the same message across. You’re his.

And if you get angry at him and take it off one time? Well. He’ll just have to teach you a very unforgettable lesson about why you’re never, ever going to do that again.

"Lesson Plan" Black Mask x Reader

I'm gonna give you a little blurb ;) This one spoke to me.

Here is some 24/7 dynamics for Roman as an addition to this!

TW: NSFW, punishment, spanking, hand on neck, thigh fucking, angry sex

When you had become official with Roman Sionis, there were certain expectations you knew you'd come to face. His temper, his career, the people he surrounded himself with. Certainly, this only intensified when the two of you had agreed on certain "rules" to be followed in the relationship. One of them concerned with a tasteful black choker you needed to wear day and night.

He'd helped you pick it out. Made sure it was comfortable for constant wear, properly fit- the only time you were to take it off was in the shower. Or, in an instance that you needed it off besides an obvious emergency, you would simply tell him. In this way, he was rather reasonable despite his reputation.

And today... you simply didn't feel like it. The two of you had been fighting, bickering. He was busy all the time. He'd been rude to you at a party. It was frankly embarrassing the way he shouted at some random waiter working the event. You'd had just about enough. So when you saw the black line across your neck in a mirror in your shared bedroom, you found yourself tearing it off.

"And another thing-" Roman's voice bounced off the walls as he rounded the corner and saw the choker in your hand, "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really gonna do this right now?"

"Fuck you, Roman!" You shouted before throwing it at him.

He let it hit his chest and fall to the floor, "Oh, you are really fuckin' pushing it. I've had it-"

"No, I've had it! Maybe I don't want people to think I'm yours anymore!" You didn't mean it. You both knew that. Yet in the haze of rage, it slipped so slick off your tongue, "Maybe..." You hesitated, knowing what you said was hurtful.

"Maybe what, sunshine?" There was a growl to his voice.

"I don't..." Your face was flushed and silence settled between the two of you. Roman huffed, his hand on the wall. He could punch a hole in it right now if he wouldn't have to fix the damn thing later. No, he needed to get this anger out another way. A look passed over his face and he was approaching you quickly, a hand grabbing your arm.

His tone of voice tested the waters, "'Maybe' you need a reminder of whose in charge here. You broke a rule- I'm not gonna stand here and let you act like a brat because you didn't like how I handle things. You're mine." You recognized what he was getting at. It was so tempting to tell him to take a hike off a cliff edge. If you told him as much, he'd back off.

And yet... it broke just enough of your focus on being angry... that you thought it over. Let it sift through your brain. Was it a little bit of guilt? Your eyes narrowed at him. One foot forward between his.

You found yourself spitting at him, "I'd love to see you prove that." It was all at once a challenge- And an open acceptance of his invitation to play.

In a fraction of a moment, he swept your foot out from underneath you, twisting your back to his front. Your arms were now behind your back, held in place by his hands. The solid smooth feel of his mask curved against your skull as his mouth pinched the helix of your ear.

"You're gonna wish you had that choker on." He hissed, using one of his hands to pull the bottom half of your clothing off, "You're gonna wish you didn't defy me."

A yelp leaps from your throat on the first swing of his hand against your thigh. He's kicking your feet forward, forcing you to step until you're facing the bed, pushing you down on your front. As you try to gain purchase on your arms, his hand comes down in another strike against your thighs. The other hand goes to the back of your neck, thumb curling under the mandible of your jaw.

"Did I say you could get up?" He bumps the front of his pants against your ass, pinning you between him and the bed, "Stay still now."

The click of his belt was a sound you were all too familiar with. Your hands grasped at the sheets, even as he let off the pressure against your body. You shouldn't have sighed. You should have taken a deep breath to prepare for the sting of the belt just under your cheeks. He clicked his tongue, fingers prying between your legs. Stroking you just so.

"Figures you'd be wet. Gimme a count." Then he's wiping off his gloves on your shirt. Bastard.

"Th...three so far." You groaned. Tears pricked your eyes.

A cruel laugh echoed in the room, "Alright, so we've determined... you're not fucking stupid. Must be some other reason you broke that rule. You like pissin' me off?"

"No-" You took a sharp breath.

Another swat of the belt made you cry out, and Roman mused, "You sure?" He even lifts your head just so he can hear better.

"Four- I'm sure-"

He let's go of your neck. Despite him not putting much strength into it, you feel yourself breathing easier. More hits of the belt along your thighs- You call out the numbers and you hear a drawer open. The sound of slick being spread over your lover's cock. Your hips lift, hoping for some relief for the heat building in your core.

"Nah, nah, nah. You think I'm gonna fuck you?" Roman asks, "You're lucky I'm using you to get off." One last slap, this time with his hands before you feel his slicked cock sliding against the sore skin and muscles between your legs.

Even in your current situation, the friction was giving you some minor relief. Better than nothing, anyways. The pain made your mouth water and moan. Two fingers were finding their way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and holding your teeth open.

"Don't hide a sound from me. I wanna hear how you love being fucked by me." The fabric of his pants slapped against your backside as his pace increased. Saliva pooled out of your mouth and you felt a pleasurable fog trickle through your mind. Every minor reaction made him press into your skin harder, as if he could melt into you.

You tried to tell him please- to please just fuck you- But it only came out garbled, incomprehensible. You felt the fingers pull back and Roman's body leaning over yours.

"Got somethin' you wanna say?" He rearranged himself so he was pressing just at your entrance. If you tried to move, he was moving back just enough to deny you.

You moaned, "Please- I'm sorry-"

"Sorry, I don't understand whiny slut. Try again." He stroked along that sweet spot.

A deep breath, "I'm sorry... for taking the choker off."

"Why's that?" Roman pressed the tip in.

An anguished sound, "Because I'm yours?"

"Fuckin' a right, you're mine." Roman grabs as much of your hair as he can, close to the skull, before pressing deep inside you. Both of you sound relieved.

Truthfully, Roman had been holding strong for most of that. Mentally trying to stop himself from getting too excited. Now that he was inside of you, pressed against your walls... It didn't take long for him to reach his peak. He pulled out of you, jerking himself to that final completion.

"W-wait-" You protested. A growl came out of Roman's throat and you could feel the warmth of his cum speckle over your bruised and blooming skin. A gentle touch was helping you stand properly.

"Wait, what?" Your boyfriend sounded downright smug, "You got me inside of you. Wasn't that nice? ...What the fuck did you expect from a punishment?" He was fixing himself up as you stood there, sore, sticky and way too turned on.

"I..." You couldn't argue, then you stated calmly, "...Thank you, sir."

There was a smile in his voice, "That's good. Oh and, uh, don't you dare get yourself off tonight. Why don't you hop in the shower and I'll get some stuff ready?"

You nodded, coming down from the high of that mental space. When you wobbled for a moment, he immediately put his arm out for you to hold. Helped you take your top off and get to the shower before he started rummaging through the medicine cabinet. You were going to need some numbing cream, that was for sure. He could already see the swelling marks of the swats on your backside.

By the time you got out, he was waiting to pamper you. Not only that, but there was a change of clothes. On top, was your thin black choker.

#foxwriting #suggestive #roman sionis #black mask #black mask x reader #I could never have straight up angry sex eat shit and live bill

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legitimatesatanspawn · 8 months

Note

What happened to Shelob's giant mother who bit the Devil so hard that the entire universe heard him scream? (Not that I blame him on that one, as I would also utter the most unholy shriek if a big spider bit me.)

Oh crap I thought I answered this. Geeze, it's been a while, sorry. Also same about being bit by a big spider. The guy is pretty damn big so the spider itself would be terrifyingly huge and that's before the "webs of unlight" and other fun powers. Y'all thought Mirkwood's were big? Nah, they're tiny compared to Ungoliant.

We have no idea where Ungoliant is from although it's assumed it's space but it's implied she's some kind of maia (angel/minorish god) that went off in her own particular rocker. She's basically a Primordial Hell Spider. We don't know where she went or and what became of her. Last we know, she was seen fighting and then just skittered off to parts unknown "southward" and was never seen again.

Knowing Dagor Dagorath, Ungoliant will probably show up at the end to help further that Ragnarok / End of Times setup. I mean after all, the Silmarils will be shattered there and the Sun and Moon will crash to the planet and you know she'd be hungry for that final feast of the Trees and their tofu/seitan imitations.

Although the fact that she dipped South makes me very worried about the people living south-ish past Gondor and Mordor. Like, what kind of unholy spider abominations do they get plagued with that teaming up with the evil "god" Sauron is a good idea, even with any Morgothian indoctrination at play? The Blue Wizards are late to that party but at least they can help shake things up over there.

Okay so to clarify for people who no idea: Shelob is the giant spider living in Sauron's mountain range nearish to the front gates. Ungoliant is her ancestor to an unknown degree (mother? grandmother? ungodly number of greats? who knows how long giant spiders live for in this setting) and is famously known for draining dry the giant magic trees that glowed brighter/dimmer in an about yearly cycle.

The trees, for the record, are the source of the Sun and Moon and also part of the inspiration for Feanor creating the Silmarils (specifically their light reflecting off of his niece Galadriel's hair). Telperion was planted first and then followed by Laurelin. The silver-leafed tree Telperion had flowers that dripped star-like dew, while Laurelin had clusters of golden fruit surrounded by golden glowing leaves. I mentioned before in another post about these trees and how the last flower and fruit were shotpucked into orbit on skyships. The moon's driver is apparently kinda shitty at sailing which is sometimes why the moon is larger. You'd think he'd get better but…

Anyway, the Trees' light stretched all the way from Valinor (basically heaven on earth) all the way to the known lands across Arda (including Middle Earth, which is charitably around the size of Europe compared to the rest of the landmass). Now it wasn't a perfect go and I forget at this moment when exactly the Two Pillars over on the continent Middle Earth is on were built to give that continent its own light source but Morgoth hates it when people have nice things so either he deliberately smashed them or a fight with the Valar got out of hand there and they got smashed in the fight. Because of this, the land got "ruined" by developing rocky mountain ranges, canyons, and so on so instead of being completely perfect it's wonderfully imperfect and varied. Similar way that Morgoth fighting with Ulmo - the Valar god-archangel-master of the Oceans - helped carve the shorelines and ocean-facing cliffs.

Ungoliant joined up with Morgoth with the promise that he'd offer her freely from his hands anything to satisfy her endless hunger. Using her webs as a ladder to breach Valinor's capital during a massive party since everyone would be busy, Morgoth struck down the trees with his giant spear weapon, and then she lapped up all the sap and her hunger and gluttony only got worse and Ungoliant grew larger and possibly more monstrous-seeming if she was able to scare Morgoth shitless.

They fled across the Grinding Ice, a jagged arctic wasteland (which is why the Noldor when led by Feanor went across that rather than any sensible path).

Ungoliant wasn't an idiot even if she was greedy. She knew that Morgoth broke promises when it suited him, so she demanded her goods. I am not sure how he had the time to do this but Morgoth looted Feanor's treasury along with swiping the three Silmarils. So the promise was demanded and she was fed all the gems held in his left hand… but he refused to open his right which contained the Silmarils (somehow, given that nothing evil can hold them).

Understandably pissed off, Ungoliant wrapped him up in her webs of unlight and tried to kill him. This created the echoes of Lammoth - the endless scream that would rattle forever until the area's destruction. This scream is what drew his minions' attention to the area and so Ungoliant exited the scene, pursued by Balrogs.

Yes, Balrogs. Plural. The Balrog of Moria was just the one and possibly a weak one at that.

Each Balrog is a fallen angel that was formerly working for others or could've been one of Melkor's had he stayed true (which was never gonna last given how he changed the Song and went Lucifer on God).

She wandered around, was known to have attempted to breach Doriath but was somehow successfully fended off by Luthien's mother Melian (told you she was a bamf), then had lots of spider babies in the ruins of Angband (Morgoth's Hell on Earth capital).

After that we have no idea where she went or what Ungoliant is up to beyond going "southward". Come the Fellowship's founding, it's been about 6458 years (not counting the exact date she was last seen in the Second Age) but if she was sniffing around for a Silmaril then that'd make the last possible sighting around 466 First Age so…6583 years.

That's a long time to lose track of a giant spider. Hope it doesn't literally bite them in the ass. Hopefully Pallando and Alatar (the "missing" two Wizards of the Istari Order) are handling things over there.

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snaillamp · 5 months

Text

White Out

“Signal’s out!” A call went across the room.

Everyone looked up from their cubicles and desks as the radios went silent, a couple people cutting out mid sentence. “Shit!” There supervisor’s voice echoes across the still room.

“Which tower?”

“Uhhh, Radio Tower 14, ma’am.”

“Fuck.”

Matthew smirked. He had never heard a supervisor so much as whisper “damn” in his few months time here, and this sweet, plump woman with rosy cheeks and bright eyes was suddenly swearing enough to out curse a sailor. His face fell as he realised that probably wasn’t a good thing.

“What communications do we have?”

“Faint signal from Radio Tower 10 and 18, but they are too far inland. 14 is the only tower to reliably pick up ship signals in this are-”

“I know that!” The supervisor snapped.

“Yes, ma’am, sorry ma’am.”

“Can we get any signals from anywhere?”

Johan, the radio operator spent a few minutes calling around. Nothing. Phones were down. The supervisor walked off, muttering something about needing a shot of coffee directly into her brain.

When she came back she stood in the front of the room, watching as everyone went about their business, tuning the radios they could and monitoring ship routes and synoptic charts. “Probie!” She called pointing at Matthew, who stood to attention.

“Ma’am.” He spoke quickly, slightly afraid of her in this cranky state. Nobody liked night shift, sure, but she was in a fouler mood than he had ever seen her tonight. “How much do you know about radio towers?” Matthew frowned, trying to think. “Not much, ma’am. Except the basics of course.”

She nodded, “Suit up, we need you to see how bad the situation is.” A few of the senior members stood up, protesting. “Ma’am, with all due respect, it’s too dangerous, he could get caught in a whiteout!”

One of the older guys spoke up. “We need to know what we are working with here.” The supervisor argued back. “That can wait, the storm could make it worse, we can wait for it to pass over before adventuring out. At least let the worst of it pass.”

The supervisor bit her lip, Matthew’s stomach flipping with anxiety as he waited for his fate. “You’re right, Peterson. Thank you. Wait for the storm to ease up, then go check it out. In the mean time, prep him up.”

She snapped her fingers at Matthew, who was making a face that was a mix of confused and scared. What was he going to do? Peterson and Mann two of the more senior coast guards came over and walked him towards a corner. “Probie, you can say no if you want to. Mann and I will happily go, we know the area, we have the knowledge and expertise, we should go, not you. She’s picking on you cause she’s pissed.”

“No, I want to go.” Matthew insisted, smiling at Mann, who grimaced. She looked to Peterson. “We can’t let him do this, Mark.” Peterson scowled. “I know.” He looked across the room at the pacing woman, getting redder by the second. “Bastard.” He whispered. “You three, quit chatting, get prepped!” She screamed across the room, pointing at them. Peterson’s face went dark. “Helga, See what you can do. I’m going to sort the kid out.” Mann nodded, walking away, ready to rage harder than the current snowstorm outside.

Peterson lead Matthew to the back rooms, where all the gear was. “You’re gonna need a suit, don’t wear it yet, you’ll get too warm.” Peterson went around the room grabbing tools, lights, compasses, maps. “You’ll need to know where you are, we’re in cliff country, and you’ll walk right off one if you don’t know where ya’ are.” He pointed at the map.

“You can read it right?” Matthew nodded, map reading was a basic skill he had learned as a scout when he was 13, but it was a skill all coast guards had. “Good, that’s your life line out there. Lose that? Stay still, let us find you. Don’t want you tumbling down no ledges.” Matthew nodded, getting oriented and ready to leave.

The radio tower wasn’t that far, though, in the blizzard anything went. The older man’s stress creased face looked at him, sympathetically smiling. “You’re so young, kid. Why you out here?” Matthew shrugged. “I like it.” Peterson shook his head, looking up as Mann walked in. “She gave me a fucking dressing down. I couldn’t sway her, you’re going when the oncoming calm spot reaches us, and he’s going alone, apparently we’re too short staffed to loose two people and it’s only a report, its not like he has to fix the thing.” Mann imitated the supervisor with a scowl.

“You have maybe 30 minutes tops. I’m so reporting this.” Her thunderous glare made Matthew shudder a little. The adrenaline was already pumping.

30 minutes later, the screaming wind died down a little, the snow bashing the windows a little less forcefully. Peterson nodded at Matthew, who looked back as the entire station watched him leave. The supervisor was a little less red now, watching them sternly. “Wait!” She called after them, making them turn around. “Be safe.” She said quietly, nodding at him. Matthew nodded in return, before going out the door and into the white.

The first 40 minutes of the trip were fine, the coast guard silently trekking, concentrating on where he was going with his compass, the cold wind biting at his skin.

When the hour mark hit, the wind suddenly picked up again, assaulting Matthew with ice. His gentle walk slowed to a slow, barely moving crawl. The snow was piling up around him as he hiked, the wind blowing harder and harder against him. Matthew wondered how long it would take to get to the tower, if he was even going the right way… Checking his compass he sighed, he was, for now.

After a while more of trekking through the blizzard, Matthew spotted the glinting of a red light in the distance. It was the tower’s signal light blinking in the storm. “Yes!” He shouted, before he frowned, “Why is it so low to the ground…?” When he arrived, he found the radio tower had been destroyed, bent and twisted beyond repair in the storm, a large, old tree collapsed on top of it.

Spotting a small shed by the tower Matthew staggered towards it, opening the door. As he opened it, the wind ripped the door out of his hands and off its hinges, the old wood splintering against the ground. Matthew stumbled inside shivering, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t call for help… Could he? He decided to try, hoping that something could pick up his signal. “Th-this is Coast G-Guard Mat-Matthew… Ki-Kin-Kind…b-berg… I-I’m at Rad-d-io T-T-T-Tower F-F-F-Four-t-t-t-t-een… As-asss-sss-ist-ta-tance re-qu-qu-quried…” All Matthew could do now was hope to hell and back someone could pick up his message. He was so cold…

Enjar groaned, lifting his head and easing out of bed. His handheld radio had picked up a signal, waking him up. It wasn’t something that was uncommon, and he usually ignored it, but on a night like tonight, he figured no one would be using a radio unless it was an emergency. Shuffling over the the radio and pulling on an extra jacket, he sighed, slumping down in the sofa and grabbing the radio.

“As-as-tance re-qu-qu…”

Frowning, Enjar spoke into his radio. “This is Tower 4, can you repeat that?”

“Coa-Rad-tower 14-brok… Ne-help… he-p ple- hel-m-please…”

The signal was weak, cutting out in the storm, but Enjar had heard enough.

“This is Tower 4, Radio tower 14, do you read me?”

“Y-ye-yes… T-T-T-Tow-w-wer F-F-F-Four.”

“Stay put, I’m coming. Tower 4 over and out.”

Switching channels he tried to contact the Coast Guard Base, but he couldn’t get through. Trying the ancient shortwave, he spoke his message. “This is Lighthouse Tower 4, I have received a distress signal from Radio tower 14. I am responding, assistance required. Do you read me?”

Static greeted Enjar’s words. “Shit.” He murmured.

Enjar grew serious as he collected his gear, tying back his hair and grabbing his warmest clothes. Radio tower 14 was about an hour long walk from his lighthouse, he could get there in two shakes... In good weather. He grabbed the microphone of his old shortwave. “Tower 4 to Base come in. I am responding to a distress call at Radio tower 14, requesting assistance. Do you read me?”

Nothing.

“Well, here goes nothing…” He murmured. Grabbing his compass and portable radio, he set out, hoping that he would get there in time.

He hiked through the blizzard, struggling to find the trail as he staggered his way around in the dark, icy night. The conditions were getting worse, but the best he could do was hope he got there in time.

“Hey, Radio tower 14. You still with me?” Enjar hoped that the signal from his portable radio might be picked up by something as he trekked, but mostly the person at the tower. “Ra-dio t-t-wer f-f-four-t-te… I-you.” The signal was a little clearer as Enjar got closer, but it was still broken. He must only be getting signal from inland, Radio Tower 10 or something.

“What’s your name R-t14?” Enjar panted as he climbed up a steep incline, before finally finding the path. The blizzard was picking up again. “M-ma-matth-th-ew…”

Enjar nodded. “I’m Enjar. Keep talking to me Matthew.”

“O-o-kay…” As Enjar climbed, he felt colder and colder, moving slower and slower. Soon his teeth were chattering as he walked, his body feeling wet and chilled to his very bones. “So… What-t are you… d-doing out in this-s storm, Math-th-thew…?” Enjar stuttered a little, stumbling as he tripped on a root or something. He staggered, steadying himself as the wind pushed him forward, before he shined his light at the trees, regaining his bearings and following them along the path again. “Tower broke… I ca-ca-ca-came che-k-k-k-k the-the dam-ge…”

“In this weather?” Enjar asked himself, a small fire igniting in him. Why was a guy out at this tower in weather like this?

~~ Matthew shivered as he collected the splintered wood from the ground, gathering it best he could with his numb hands and bringing it into the small maintenance shed. He picked up a couple other scraps of wood laying around the shed too, hoping he could start a fire. His radio crackled to life, a faint signal coming through. The tower must still be emitting something, there must be someone close by who could just catch the signal. “Hey, Rad-tow- st…with me?”

“Rad-rad-d-di t-t-tow-t-teen… I hear...” The sound of a man’s voice made Matthew want to cry. Someone was coming. Someone could help him… He felt so cold and numb and tired. “What’s-name-four?” Matthew lit up. “M-ma-matth-th-ew…” He spoke into his radio, hands shaking as he used his light to search for an accelerant. He couldn’t expect the fuel to light in this state.

Nothing. It occurred to him he didn't even have matches. All he could find were a few bent nails and some tools and a tarp, nothing useful for lighting a fire. “I’-m Enja-. Keep-14.” Matthew didn’t know what to say, so he grabbed his radio, responding with “O-o-kay…” before curling up under the tarp with the radio, the voice of the man the only thing keeping him sane. Matthew tried to imagine what he looked like.

He was probably old, like most of the guys around, so mid 50’s? All the guys also had big beards or moustaches, like Peterson’s big, grey moustache. He sounded tall, Matthew guessing at least 6 feet, with long powerful legs and strong arms to carry him back to Base, and a broad, warm chest he could lean against to warm up… Yeah… that would be nice.

“So… What-t-you… d-doing-s-storm, Ma-?” Matthew frowned, trying to figure out what the voice was asking. “Oh… Uh…” He mumbled, fumbling with the radio, his shaking fingers refusing to move. “Tower broke… I w-went ou-t-t to see the-the d-dam-mage…” He was fighting to stay conscious, the cold seeming into his body and slowing him down so much. Surely a little nap wouldn’t hurt. Just until his rescuer got there.

“R-t-t-t-t 14?” Enjar spoke into his radio again, shuddering as more wind ripped at his clothes. He was so close, but he couldn’t see the light… Where was the tower? “Matthew, y-you st-still-ll with me, b-b-b-budd-d-dd-dy?” His voice grew urgent as a burst of energy surged though his shivering body.

“Yeah… I’m -ol-l-ld…” Matthew sounded tired... 'Shit.' Enjar thought

“I need you to stay awake for me. Stay awake. Stay awake. You copy?”

“Stay… wak-” a weak reply greeted him. Enjar felt his stomach drop. That wasn’t good. “Matthew? Why don-n-n’t you tell me more ab-b-bout yourself. Wha-t-t-t do y-you l-look like?”

Silence greeted him from the other end, while Enjar waited with baited breath, watching the trees thin. The tower had to be close. He was nearly there.

He had to be.

“T-tall…” Matthew replied, Enjar letting out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“I’m 6’2… It’s fu-nny my par-rents are both short… Gue-ss… I won the genet-genetic lottery…”

Enjar smirked. “6’2 huh? How’s the v-view from up th-there?”

“P-pretty good… Could be bett-tter right-t-t n-now…” The signal was becoming stronger, but it was harder to hear over the wailing winds.

“What else? Keep talking… I’m alm-m-most there.”

“Brown eyes… Kinda dir-r-t-t-ty bl-blonde h-hair… Ta-tt-tt-ttoo…”

Enjar grunted as he pushed through the almost knee deep snow. His feet were wet and numb.

“Yeah? What’s your tattoo?” He spoke quickly, trying not to stutter.

“B-b-bear…”

“G-got any meaning or just a s-s-s-sick tatt?” Enjar was trying to keep both their spirits up as he crested a hill, where the tower was supposed to be. A slightly glowing lump of snow made him frown.

“M-m-my nick…nick-name…. Is B-Bear… Cause I’m sss-sso tall and… hairy…” Matthew half laughed but Enjar could tell he was slowing down.

“Nice. Well… I’ve always b-b-been t-too chick-k-k-ken to get tatt-ttoos. I have… comm-m-mm-m-mmit-t-tment issues.” Enjar joked as he squinted into the storm.

Finally he spotted the outline of the tower, the large main dish on the ground, it must still be working slightly, explaining why he could barely catch Matthew’s radio.

The tower was a load of crap on a good day, maybe it would finally be replaced now, Enjar mused, trying to figure out where Matthew was. “Hey, Matthew, I’m h-here where are you?” He glanced around in the pitch black night, the snow obscuring his view as he turned on his torch, shining it around. A small light flickered from the maintenance shed, catching his eye.

Matthew had been talking to the guy, Enjar who had been trying to keep him distracted. It was hard to hear his voice through the howling winds. Then, words, clear as day came through his radio, “H-h-hey, Matthew, I’m h-here, wh-wh-where are y-you?” Matthew shuddered, not having the energy to speak. Instead he lifted is torch, aiming it out the open doorway and into the snow, waggling it a little. “Shed?”

He waggled the light more. “I’m coming, don’t worry.”

A minute later, as the wind picked up yet again, somehow, making the walls of the shed shake and bend. Matthew was worried it would collapse on him. Suddenly, a bright light flooded the room, making Matthew wince as he covered his eyes. “Matthew?” The familiar voice asked.

“Yeah…”

“It’s En-n-jar. C-come on, we need to g-go…” The outline of a short, stocky guy was standing in the doorway, rugged up with lots of layers. He semed to be shivering badly though.

The guy, Enjar, kneeled down to see Matthew’s cold, pale face, his nose bright red, the mucous frozen inside it. “Damn, what d-did they send a y-y-oung guy like you o-out here f-for?” Enjar murmured stuttering badly, his teeth chattering more as he reached out for Matthew’s hand. Matthew couldn’t see the guy’s face well, but he seemed young, probably as young as he was, maybe a little older. Certainly not what he expected.

“Can you w-walk?” The guy asked, helping Matthew stand. “Y-yeah… It’s jus-just… ha-hard.” Enjar nodded, Matthew seeing a strange mark in his face in the light for half a second. His face was mostly covered by a hat and scarf, but beside his eye there seemed to be some kind of scar. 'Cool...' Matthew thought.

Enjar slung his arm around Matthew, holding him close to him as they began to walk. Matthew leaned into Enjar’s side, he felt a little bit warm, at least compared to Matthew, but he could feel the shorter man’s muscles twitching as he tried to hold in shivers.

“I’ll h-h-eadd to the light-t-thous-s-s-e! I-it’s cl-l-los-s-er!” Enjar’s voice cracked as he yelled over the wind, both men shuddering as they staggered through the white out. Enjar groaned under his breath, making Matthew look up. “W-what’s…?” He tried to ask but his mouth wouldn’t work. He felt Enjar stumble on something, quickly righting himself. “Noth-thing…” The man replied, barely able to be heard over the wind. Matthew watched him pull out a compass from his pocket. He rotated them a few degrees before heading of.

Matthew hoped the guy knew where he was going. Enjar glanced up at their surroundings again. He couldn’t see a foot in front of them, the conditions were getting so bad. The ice was turning into heavy, cold, hard missiles as they walked through it, painfully pricking at their exposed skin. Matthew shivered against him, feeling cold. Enjar pulled him closer, feeling his own body warmth fading as they stumbled through the snow.

They hiked for what felt like eternity, but when they finally reached the top of the hill it had taken Enjar two minutes to descend, he groaned. He couldn’t see the trees anymore, he had no idea where they were going, hoping that they could find their way by compass alone. They kept trudging through the snow, Enjar slowing down more and more. He was shaking violently now, Mathew in no better state.

“Y-y-you okok-k-kay?” The taller man asked him as the wind died down a little. All Enjar could do was grunt and nod, pulling Matthew’s arm back over his shoulder. He could carry the guy if he had to, but with his body so cold and weak, Enjar was starting to have doubts about his remaining strength.

He hauled Matthew along a little longer, the wind finally dying down as the storm seemed to ease up. The snow was falling more gently now as Enjar held Matthew up, the tall guy having gone quiet. Enjar looked on the horizon for any sign of his tower’s light, but nothing.

“S-s-s-o, M-M-Matt… You got a g-g-irl-f-f-friend-d or something…” Enjar tried to make conversation. “N-na-nah…” Matthew replied, taking another step.

“B-boyfri-end-d the-then?” Matthew chuckled. “N-n-ah. F-f-ian-fianceé…” Matthew stuttered, sounding barely conscious. Enjar adjusted the taller man’s weight again. He was getting heavier and harder to carry even step. “T-t-tell m-me about her…” Enjar grunted, adjusting the guy again. He was stating to sweat with the effort, his muscles aching with every step and his head feeling light.

“S-she’s the b-b-best… girl… in-n t-th-the w-w-orld-d. Char-Charl-l-lot-tt-tte.”

Enjar smiled. “Yeah?

“Y-yeah…” Mumbled Matthew, slipping from Enjar’ grip. The short man grunted as he pulled him back up. “C-c-come o-n… St-stay wi…with me…”

“I am…” Matthew murmured. He gripped onto Enjar's arm, feeling the strong muscle in the sleeve, trying to ignore how much it was quivering with cold.

Enjar’s ankle rolled as he suddenly felt the terrain change, staggering and landing hard against the ground. It felt strange below his hand. 'Wait… this isn’t the path…’ Enjar glanced at his compass, he was so concentrated on Matthew up he hadn’t realised the wind had caused them to stagger off course a little. They were a few degrees off course, which, after a while had lead them off the path and towards the small, very deep lake right beside it...

“Ngh… Matt g-get up…” Enjar groaned, pushing himself up as he heard a crack beneath him. He grabbed Matthew, hauling him back through the trail they had made through the knee deep snow, hurling him at the shore he could just see through the snow haze.

The ice splintered and Enjar fell through, Matthew’s body landing on the shore as he went under. Ice cold water washed over him, the air leaving his lungs as he gasped in shock. He looked up, trying to see the surface, but it was dark under the snow. Swimming up, his lungs burning he reached the surface… and his hands hit ice.

Pounding his fists along the ice, he hoped to break it, find the hole he fell through, something… Black spots clouded his vision as he tried to fight the heaviness in his body. The weight of his heavy, wet clothes weighing him down more as he sank, his mind going fuzzy, ‘This is really it huh? I never thought it would be like this. Weird… It’s… kind of…peaceful… at least compared to the first time...’ He thought as the cold, empty void engulfed him.

The last little bubble left his lips, flying up to the surface and breaking against the cold ice...

Matthew landed against the hard ground, hearing a crack and a splash behind him. The wind had died down enough for him to hear it, but the wind was wailing loudly. A chill went down his spine, followed by a surge of adrenaline as he was somehow able to push himself to his feet and race forward into the path of snow they had just been in. In the dark, he could see just Enjar’s light, sinking in the lake, just by a massive hole. “No…” Matthew breathed, skidding across the ice.

He used his own light to look for the man, spotting a figure floating under the ice, just away from the gap. Matthew lay on his stomach, reaching out and managing to just grab onto Enjar’s jacket sleeve, pulling him towards the hole. He hauled him out and dragged the drenched man back off the lake, the ice cracking more under the strain until it cracked again.

Matthew’s feet jolted and he landed in a foot of water, right by the shore. His heart was racing as he dragged Enjar up the shoreline and away from the lake. Shining his torch light, he could see his rescuer’s face properly for the first time. He gasped at the scar trailing down the left side of the man’s pale, grey face. It stood out from the pallor, cutting slightly across blue lips as the man lay there, still and hardly breathing.

“N-n-no…” Matthew breathed, shaking the man desperately.

He sat there for a second, trying to remember what to do, wracking his cold addled mind for his basic first aid training…

‘Airway first…’

With shaking hands, he lifted the man’s head back, opening any airway he might have. ‘Breathing…’ He checked for breaths… They were faint, but the were there.

Rolling Enjar on his side, he hoped that would do anything. “C-c-come on….” He murmured hitting the man’s back over and over hard... Matthew shuddered as his arms and legs went numb from the icy water, waiting as he lay still for a moment.

Suddenly, Enjar made a gagging sound, convulsing as he coughed up water. Shaking as he rolled onto his hands and knees, he threw up more water, his arms quivering as he tried to hold himself up. “Aghn… T-th-th-thanks…” He stammered a strained whisper, shaking. The man stood, staggering as Matthew tried to steady him.

“W-w-w-we… ha-ha-ha-ve t-t-t-t-o… aghk!” Enjar coughed up more water. “W-w-w-we hav-v-ve to k-ke-keep-p-p go-goin-ng-ng…” He stammered, grabbing the compass from around his neck. Luckily, it had stayed on him when he’d fallen. He orientated them again, guiding them up the hill as the blizzard began to ease up, more this time. Soon, he located some trees, pointing at them with a shaking hand. Matthew looked at the guy, ice forming all over his wet clothes.

“Fol-fol-ll-lllow… t-tree-s-s…” He said, sagging against Matthew. “N-no, n-no-not n-n-now…” Matthew gasped, shaking Enjar awake. “Mmmmnngh…” He groaned, head lolling. “Li-ght… li-gh-ght…” He shook his head, sighing off the mind fog. Ice was beginning to form on his wet clothes, the fabric already stiff and frozen.

Enjar pushed forward, pressing through the snow as he clung Matthew’s arm, while Matthew wondered where the hell they were.

Enjar’s vision blurred as he yanked Matthew’s arm along. As they crested the hill, Matthew gasped, catching the glint of a light of a building in the distance.

Base.

Enjar dragged him forwards, suddenly feeling warmer as adrenaline surged through his body. They practically waded through the snow as they raced for the door, Enjar fumbling with the handle and only to find it locked. They started smashing their fists against it, both too tired and cold to yell, until it swung open. Both men collapsed through the doorway, Enjar immediately crawling forwards, trying to get out of the way of the guards as they swarmed into the room. His vision tilted as he leaned up against the welcome desk, his shutting his eyes and tilting his head back, gasping for air.

Matthew staggered through the door, feeling his co-worker’s strong, warm arms grab his own, hoisting him up. Matthew cast a worried glance at Enjar, his rescuer, slumped against the welcome desk. His clothes and body were frozen solid, the water now ice as he caught his breath. Someone wrapped a blanket around Matt, and dragged him into the office. The corners of the blanket were pushed into his numb hands and he tried to hold them, but he could hardly do it, his body was shaking so much, his fingers felt numb and fat... But all he could think about was his rescuer.

He watched as Enjar was wrapped in blankets and helped to his feet, only to be held up between two guys, before both men were practically carried into the station. Matthew was thrust into a chair, someone peeling off his snow suit he had ventured out in. Enjar was slumped in his own chair, shaking badly, his lips blue and the scar on his face easier than ever to see in the bright lights of the office. Matthew couldn’t help but wonder how it got there.

Enjar pulled the blankets around himself, slouching into the chair, shaking. His head felt floaty again as he tried to focus on breathing, head bobbing as he pulled the blankets closer around himself. Even after all this, he still couldn’t get warm… he needed to get out of his clothes into something dry… he could feel the ice melting against his skin, making him wet all over again. There was already a puddle at his feet. His chest hurt, a haggard, grating cough exploding from inside him as his head began to spin even more.

Enjar leaned forward, gasping an awful, wheezing gasp, before he pushed forwards, off the chair and onto his hands and knees, hacking up a lung until a clear liquid came up. “You okay?” Matthew asked, leaning forward a little. Enjar’s arms were shaking as he was picked by up Peterson, and put back into the chair. “Nnnhhh…” He gazed around, lethargic.

Enjar sank back to the chair, Matthew looking at him curiously, as Peterson began tugging off Enjar's jacket, then his wooden jumper, and a long and finally a short sleeved shirt, revealing a sodden thermals underneath. They all fell to the ground, one by one, with a heavy, wet plop as the rescuer's clothes were peeled from his body, his skin a stark white, almost blue from the cold.

Enjar looked up at Matthew, dazed, before mumbling. “You sure you’re okay?” Matthew looked and felt a bit warmer now, nodded in reply to Enjar’s question. Enjar nodded, fighting the haze. “Good…” Minutes later Matthew was wrapped in more blankets as Mann strode in looking alarmed when she saw Enjar, slumped in the chair, half naked and unable to move. His head was bobbing as he continued to fight to stay conscious.

Enjar’s chest pain was getting worse. He glanced up at Matthew. His rescued companion was looking better as he warmed up, one of the guards, Johan maybe, handing him a mug of something to drink. He couldn't tell who was who with the brain fog he had at that moment... Enjar wheezed again, coughing up a little more liquid into his mouth. He realised with a sinking feeling, it was water.

He must still have some in his lungs… Swallowing it, he sighed a weird, rattling breath. He too tired to deal with this right now. He had coughed up so much already surely it would all be out now.

Mann appeared from somewhere, a bundle of blankets in his arms. She wrapped them over Enjar’s shaking, naked shoulders, before going off to find some clothes for him to wear, muttering about how this should've been the first thing to do. ~~

The few staff continued to warm and dry their two companions, Peterson helping the rapidly weakening Enjar remove the rest of his wet clothes and put on some dry ones.

Enjar had noticed Matthew staring at him from across the room while he waited for a shirt, his pale arms exposed as he grabbed the blankets, wrapping them around himself again. He smiled tiredly, knowing what Matthew was looking at. “You’re wondering how I got them, huh?” His voice was low, haggard and husky.

Matthew’s back straightened, his cheeks reddening slightly in embarrassment. His slight glance away told Enjar everything he needed to know. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind…” Enjar whispered softly, his eyes kind, but sad. He pushed himself up in the chair, puling back edge of the blanket and revealing the scars on the backs of his forearms.

“It was a long time ago... I was… attacked.” Enjar seemed to be slightly distant as he coughed a little, remembering something. He rubbed one of the scars fondly, “But I don’t mind them now, I used to hate them, but... If I woke up without them one day, I’d… I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

He chuckled slightly. “You know, I don’t even remember what they looked like before. It’s like they’ve always been there…” He shook his head, smiling tiredly.

“I’m sure these hurt more to get than a tattoo would.” He looked at Matthew. “Where’s your bear?” Matthew’s eyes lit up as he pulled up his shirt. “Right over my heart, cause I’m a bear at heart, I don’t know. I was 19 and thought it was cool.”

Enjar squinted at the bear, it did look cool, raised arms and teeth bared. The medical officer, Mary finally came tearing into the room, laden with bags of stuff. “Enjar!” She gasped in a panic as Pettersen returned with some clothes. “Hey…” Enjar croaked weakly, tucking a stand of wet hair out of his face. “Holy shit, you sound terrible!” Mary’s voice was shocked as she replied to the man who rolled his eyes and sighed tiredly.

“Yeah... that kinda happens... when I have to run around in a blizzard... for 4 hours... in the middle... of the night... to rescue... your... Probie.” Enjar wasn’t able to yell, his voice cracking as he glared dangerously at the office of their supervisor, panting as he grew more and more breathless with each word.

The supervisor had yet to emerge from her office to see the damage.

Silence engulfed the room as the the medic, Maria Henderson, made her way to Enjar’s side, everyone watching him in concern.

“No…” Enjar mumbled, leaned out of the way. “Make sure he’s okay first.” Enjar gestured at Matthew, who was now looking much warmer. “Enjar, I’m not doing this with you. You were soaked from head to toe and frozen to the bone, I’m doing you first.” “Maria... please…” Enjar’s face softened as he tired to smile pathetically. “I’m fine really. I wanna make sure he’s good first.”

Matthew noticed Enjar’s breathing was faster, his grip on the blanket tightening as he slowly moved back into the chair, away from Maria, who sighed sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re the worst patient, you know that?” Maria groaned, rolling her eyes and looking at Matthew.

Enjar stared at Matthew, his stormy eyes flicking up and down his body anxiously, as Maria checked him over. “He is fine, cold, but fine. Now, will you please, let me check you, Enjar.” She looked at the man, who grimaced. “I’m fine.” He mumbled, curling into himself a little, staring coldly at the supervisor’s office door.

“Hey, we had a deal. I checked him out, now it’s your turn.” Maria argued, putting her hands on her hips. Her tone made Matthew suspect this wasn’t the first time she’d had this conversation with Enjar. “He’s. Fine.” Maria spoke again, making her point firmly.

“He might be, but then again he wasn’t the one who fell into Misty Lake at 3am.” Enjar murmured, trying to sound light-hearted, but instead, sounding very tired.

“What?” Maria cried out, turning to Matthew. “Is he serious?! He was wet from head to toe and none of you asked why?” She narrowed her eyes at the coast guards, who all shrugged. “I assumed it was the hiking through snow.” One piped up. Matthew was frowning at the argument unfolding. He’d been so fatigued he’d forgotten to mention Enjar’s brief swim before now. “He fell through the ice, went under and passed out… I managed to pull him out, but took a minute to come around...” Matthew mumbled, looking guilty for not telling everyone before.

Maria sounded concerned. “Okay, shirt up. You need to be checked for... everything! What were you thinking not telling me that En?!” Enjar deflated guiltily, staring at his lap as Maria peeled back his blanket and pulled his shirt up, revealing his pale chest. As she pressed her stethoscope to his chest, his facial scar twisted in a grimace and the rescuer winced. “Cold.” He groaned softly. Maria shot him an exasperated look. “En, it’s a stethoscope, it can’t hurt you. It’ll be done in two seconds if you stop dragging this out.”

Enjar sighed tiredly, slouching back a little in the chair, and letting Maria press the bell of the stethoscope against his ribs. He let his head drop back as he felt the cold metal press into his chest again and again, his eyes shutting as he tried to ignore the brief, blurred, disjointed memories flashing through his mind. Maria listened for a moment in several spots on his chest, watching it rise and fall.

“Breathe in for me.” She asked a couple of times, listening for sounds in his lungs. The final time Enjar did as he was told, breathing in deeply, he ended up hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach as he coughed and coughed, unable to stop. Eventually, it calmed down, Maria helping Enjar resume his previous position, slumped back in the chair with his head thrown back, his breaths catching weirdly in his throat.

Maria took a few more vital signs, before pulling is shirt back down and replacing the blankets. “Enjar… Can you look at me.” Enjar groaned, lifting his head and looking at her with unfocused eyes. “You’ve still got a little water in your lungs. Sometimes it resolves on it’s own but even if it doesn’t it’s not like we can get you out of here anyway. We don’t even have any oxygen right now, either. The replacements got stuck in the storm.” Enjar nodded, letting his head drop back again, his eyes sliding shut. “Don’t let him fall asleep.” Maria nudged the man, causing his eyes to flutter open in annoyance.

Enjar was nudged awake by Peterson for the third time. “Enjar, you gotta stay awake.” Enjar was feeling his body grow weaker and weaker, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He felt strange, sluggish and drained, his eyes sliding shut again as he sighed. He couldn’t keep them open anymore. His chest did ease a little or he thought it did, as he laid back against the hard chair, eyes sliding closed as Peterson walked over to him, shaking his shoulder.

“Let me make you some coffee.”

Matthew decided to wander around the office a little, his muscles sore from the expedition into the night. Enjar coughed a little, and Matthew turned around noticing the man was watching him sleepily with one eye open. “You good?” He asked his rescuer, as Enjar’s eye began sliding closed, his grip on the blankets loosening and his hand falling from his chest. As Matthew heard Peterson return with the coffee, he watched the scarred rescuer, musing at his face. Peterson handed Matthew a mug of coffee, putting the other one on a nearby desk and nodding at the two men.

Enjar stretched as he groaned, lifting his head up when Matthew gingerly poked him awake again, as per Maria’s orders. Enjar looked at him with bleary eyes, rubbing them and sitting up. “Coffee’s ready.” Matthew said, handing him the mug that Peterson had just given him. Enjar wrapped his hands around it gratefully. “I need this…” He mumbled, his gravelly husk of a voice had gotten worse. “I love you coffee…” He mumbled again, sipping it with a dazed smile.

The two men sat drinking quietly after that, Matthew continuing to gaze around the quiet office, the few remaining staff going about their jobs with a slight tension in the air. Matthew smiled at Enjar, who smiled tiredly back, shadows under his eyes. “You okay?”

Enjar chuckled, “Been though worse. I’m... used to it…” He sipped the coffee, finishing it and placing the mug on the ground. “I’m just… so tired.” His eyes began to slide shut again and a few seconds later his head was drooping, only for Enjar to sniff and lift it back up. “Hope you don’t need me to drive you anywhere…” He joked, rubbing his face with his pale hands. Enjar did seem to be warming up, but much slower than Matthew, who was already feeling toasty. “So what is it that you do out here?” Matthew asked the scarred man curiously. What could a guy like him possibly be doing this far away from society?

Enjar felt his eyelids flutter slightly. “Mn, sorry..” He murmured, righting himself and looking at the guy next to him. “I’m just so… dead from that trip… The whole drowning thing’s really taken the bite outta me.” He looked with glazed eyes at Matthew who nodded. “What did you say?” Enjar asked, smiling softly.

“What do you do out here?” Matthew asked again, as the man nodded, eyes closing again. “Lighthouse keeper… 5 years.”

Stretching his arms, he felt the muscles in his arms and back pull as his joints gently popped, then ruffled his long hair. “Weird… Doesn’t feel that like it’s been long.” He grinned, looking at Matthew. “How ’bout you” He asked, meeting Matthew’s eyes and yawning. “Worked for my dad for like... 2 years at his clock shop, then joined up. I needed more… excitement in my life.” Enjar chuckled, “Yeah… I had a bit too much excitement in mine. Needed to slow down… take life day by day.” Matthew noticed Enjar tracing the scar on his face absentmindedly.

The two men sat for a while, until Enjar finally stood up, easing out of the chair and swaying slightly. He had been eyeing the door of the supervisor all night, waiting for that damned woman to come out, and she just had, timidly glancing at Enjar. “I’ll be a minute. Need to say hi to a colleague of your,” Enjar mumbled, clearing his throat.

Matthew looked at the doorway and watched as Enjar stalked through, looking ready to kill. His scar on his face was pulled tight as he made eye contact with the supervisor, who looked at him and gulped. He looked at her, eye to eye, his face saying it all.

“Andrea.”

He cocked his head a little, eyes fixed on hers with a deadly precision, so much so, she had to look away. As she glanced at her feet, Enjar took another step forward, now almost chest to chest with her and spoke in here ear. “I think you and I are going to need to have a little chat in your office.” His voice was a low, rumbling growl, barely audible for anyone except the supervisor, who went a little pink.

“You can say anything you want here.” She offered, smiling a little. Enjar narrowed his eyes and shook his head a little, staring at her again. “No, I think this is best done in private.” The supervisor went redder, nodding and ushering Enjar to her office on the other side of the room. She shut the door with a quiet click, and the entire office went silent, listening for what was going to happen next, excitement in the air. This guy apparently had some authority around here, and they could all sense it.

At first no one could hear anything, Mann eventually creeping close and miming that she could hear speaking. Suddenly Enjar’s voice echoed through the office, causing Mann to scurry away from the door. It was surprisingly loud considering he was barely able to talk before.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!!”

Everyone sat in stunned silence as they heard Enjar rip their boss several new assholes. They had all known Enjar to be a quiet, reclusive and soft spoken guy, someone who melted into the shadows at big events, and would have quiet, gentle conversations about birds or fishing. But this? This was pure, unbridled rage.

Johan and a couple other coast guards stifled laughs as they heard the creative, colourful language Enjar was using reverberate through the office. The walls were a thick, dense brick, the fact his voice was coming through so clearly meant that the supervisor was probably bleeding from her ears in her office.

Enjar entered Andrea’s office, inhaling deeply as he leaned against her desk. She turned around, smiling at him pleasantly, but she looked scared. Enjar’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. ’You have experienced being yelled at, but I’m gonna make every other conversation look like a kind, whispered conversation.’ He thought in his head. Andrea sat down at her desk, folding her hands in front of her.

“So, Mr Neilson. I believe it is you who we have to thank for the heroic rescue of our Probie. Might I be the first to extend my gratitu-”

Enjar’s face twisted into something between amused and enraged.

“Please.” He spat, “Save me your formal ass kissing bullshit.”

He put both hands on the desk, leaning in so he was almost nose to nose with the woman, his stormy eyes becoming daggers. “We both know that if you didn’t send him out there, I wouldn’t have needed to rescue him in the first place!” His voice slowly raised. It was clear, and loud, the lighthouse keeper forcing it to stay strong, despite his aching lungs.

“So…WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!!” He yelled directly at her face, making Andrea slide down a little in her chair. Enjar stayed leaning over the desk.

“YOU ABSOLUTE, INCOMPETENT, EGOTISTICAL PSYCHOPATH!

YOU’RE LUCKY I HAVE SELF CONTROL, OR THESE ROOMS WOULD BE GETTING A NEW PAINT JOB!

HOW DOES BLOOD RED SOUND?”

Enjar’s shoulders rose and fell as he panted, bearing his teeth as he growled a little. He stood up straight, beginning to pace as Andrea curled up smaller and smaller in the chair. The pure adrenaline running through his veins was temporarily enabling him to yell as he saw red, unleashing even more rage onto the woman.

“WHY WAS HE EVEN OUT THERE IN THAT WEATHER? YES, THAT SIGNAL IS IMPORTANT FOR US OUT HERE, BUT NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN A LIFE! TO CALL YOU A FUCKING IDIOT WOULD BE AN INSULT TO EVEN THE STUPIDEST OF IDIOTS!

I MEAN, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

WAS IT SOME SICK POWER TRIP?

HUH?

OR ARE YOU JUST SO FUCKING POWERFUL THAT YOU CAN STOP HYPOTHERMIA SETTING IN? I SHOULD JUST BOW DOWN AT YOUR MAJESTY, RIGHT? THE ALL POWERFUL ANDREA WHO CAN WAVE HER HAND AND SEND A GUY OUT INTO A DEADLY BLIZZARD WITH NOTHING?

I HAD NO IDEA YOU COULD JUST DO THAT!

WHAT DID HE DO? QUESTION YOU? PISS YOU OFF? MAKE YOU FEEL SMALL?

HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW HUH? SMALL ENOUGH YET?

YOU MIGHT BE ABLE TO COVER YOUR ASS AND MAKE YOUR PROBIE SHUT UP, BUT YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME! I DON'T ANSWER TO YOU, AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME FROM SAYING SHIT! BESIDES, WHO WENT OUT INTO THAT STORM AND DRAGGED HIM BACK HERE, HUH? YOU SURELY DIDN'T SEEM TO CARE WHEN HE WAS MISSING FOR HOURS? DIDN'T EVEN SEND OUT A RESCUE PARTY!

YOU DID NOTHING! IN FACT, YOU SHOULDA BEEN OUT THERE, IT WAS GREAT! MATTHEW NEARLY DIED, I NEARLY DIED!” He took a breath, his voice growing dangerous and low.

“And that’s on you.” He pointed a finger at her.

“You’re pathetic.” He spat, walking to the door and ripping it open without even turning the handle. It trembled in his hand. He didn’t even glance behind him as he stormed though, slamming the cheap door so hard the door frame shook. Everyone watched him storm out of the office stunned silence.

Enjar didn’t even look at them as he strode through the room, looking ready to punch a wall. He went back to the chair, grabbing the blankets and stalking over to a nearby desk. Getting down on the ground, he hugged the blankets tightly around himself as he leaned against it. Everyone gave him some space for a few minutes, afraid that he would lash out at them next.

Enjar himself could feel the adrenaline draining from him, his head bowing as he shut his eyes, finally able to sleep…

~~ Matthew looked up from his dozing as Peterson called out. “Enjar!” He shook the unconscious man, but to no avail. They had let Enjar sleep for ten minutes or so, giving him time to cool down, but it proved to be ten minutes too long.

Mann and Johan walked over as Peterson shook the lighthouse keeper, but he didn’t rouse. Shaking him harder, Peterson watched in horror as Enjar slumped sideways, landing heavily against the floor.

He didn’t wake up.

Matthew watched the staff jump into action, pulling Enjar out from beside the desk and rolling him over onto his back, shaking him again whilst Mann shot up to get Maria.

“Hey, wake up.” Peterson said, the slight panic in his voice rising. “Hey!” He tapped the lighthouse keeper’s face, watching as it rolled to the side. Enjar remained unmoving, unconscious on the floor.

Nothing.

Putting his ear near the man’s mouth, Peterson listened for breathing. Mary emerged with Mann close behind, both looking worried. “What happened out here? I told you not to let him sleep.” Maria scolded, looking in concern at Enjar.

Grabbing the blankets and unravelling them from around him, Maria did what Matthew had done before, clearing his airway and rolling Enjar on his side. When Johan pulled Enjar’s arms out to the side to support him, Matthew finally saw the many scars on Enjar’s arms up close, taking them in in their full glory. They were big and deep, covering his forearms as if he had been shielding his face from his attacker.

Peeling his eyes away from them, Matthew watched Mann as she hit the shorter man’s back, hoping to clear his airway, everyone waiting with baited breath…

His breathing was quiet for a minute or too, before Enjar spluttered and coughed up a large amount of liquid. His breathing finally seemed to clear as he took in a breath. He choked as he opened his eyes, continuing to cough as he sat up. Enjar pounded his chest, hoping to clear it. Matthew had a slight feeling they weren’t out of the woods yet, in fact, it seemed they were still smack bang in the middle of them.

The coast guards heaved Enjar to his feet, carrying him back to the chair. As he stood, the world tilted, causing him to stumble a little, Enjar being held up almost entirely by Mann and Johan as Peterson brought the chair over. “You okay?” Maria asked looking over the lighthouse keeper. “Fine…” Enjar mumbled. He looked at the ground, watching as the carpet swirled below his feet. He tried to cough but his chest was too tight.

“Nghhh… t-hhh!” Mary looked at him with a new level of concern, “What’s wrong En?” She watched the blood drain from Enjar’s face as he leaned forward, trying to catch his breath only to collapse onto his knees, trying to breathe.

“Hey, Enjar, talk to me!” She spoke clearly, Enjar looking at her with watering eyes as he coughed up his lungs. “Relax for me, En. Try take a deep breath.” The medic ordered, but Enjar shook his head, laying back against the seat he had just been in. “Can’t…” He gasped.

The medic’s eyes grew wide. “Is your chest tight?” She asked, concerned. Enjar nodded, his breaths hitching. The medic helped him lean back against the chair, and listened to his chest before nodding. “It seems like bronchospasm. I think the water irritated your lungs. Take it easy for a minute. We need you both checked out in an ER.” She said, helping Enjar get comfortable before listening to his chest again.

Feeling his breath come back to him after a few moments, Enjar began to calm down. He let his eyes slide shut again, unable to stay awake. There was no energy left in him…

“He’s out.” Maria spoke up, as Enjar went still again. “Let him sleep, just make sure he’s still breathing. We’ll have to wait until they can dig us out of here anyway, no point trying to force him...” She seemed to be trying to convince herself of this, more than the room. Everyone nodded, covering Enjar over with some blankets to keep him warm, as Matthew began dozing off as well.

Matthew was shaken awake by Mann, who helped him walk to the door, finding a waiting SUV, ready to travel to town. The road had been finally cleared, Enjar already loaded in, looking feeble as he stared at everything through half-lidded eyes, not fully taking it all in. He seemed to sleep for the whole trip, leaning heavily against the window as Matthew sat next to him awkwardly, looking at the scar trailing down his face. He wondered if he would ever learn what had happened to his mysterious rescuer. What kind of past did he have? who was he?

Either way, Matthew knew after what they'd both been through that night, they would be good friends, forever connected by the traumatic, icy trek through the blizzard...

They were brothers now, and Matthew swore to repay his debt to the lonely lighthouse keeper, whatever it took.

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