#i need to include hope in more of the team dark content i made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lorsdelapluie · 2 months

Text

The doctor's diary.

Pairing: sylus x female reader

Genre: Dark shit going on. Including smut. Please read the content warning.

Word count: 4000+ words.

Content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content (but its chill for now), spoiler warning, mention of human experimentation, cult activities, my own twisted thoughts and theories are literally making this way darker than LADS already is. An oc of mine will appear more often in the next chapters, hate him guys, he is not a good guy. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes.

Note: This chapter ended up longer than I expected somehow. And it is the first one of a three chapter fanfiction. I tend to write nasty stuff, sex wise but also everything else wise so please be prepared for anything literally. The character Castiel that you will meet in this chapter is my own oc that I made up specially for the LADS universe. I hope you will enjoy to hate him.

Chapter 1:

“You want me to go in the N109 zone ? I thought we weren’t allowed to go th-”

“We are aware you have been going back and forth between Linkon city and the N109 Zone.”

You pinched your lips at the words coming from Jenna’s mouth, your hand resting on your hunter’s watch. The times you forgot to turn off your watch comes back to light one by one in your mind. Brushing it off everytime you thought that the HQ wouldn't have the time to check on your status. Her arms were still crossed over her chest as she looked at you straight in the face with her dark gray eyes. You felt like a kid underneath this disappointed glare. You opened your lips to say something, to defend yourself but she raised her hand to stop you from doing so.

“However, you have mainly been doing this outside your working hours. So it is your private life, and you may keep it a secret if you wish. But since you have been going there multiple times, we figured you might be aware of what is going on there better than we do.” She sighed. You guessed that she wasn't the one behind this idea. Maybe some higher ups that you never had the opportunity to meet.

“So this is why we thought you might be the best suited agent for this mission.”

“Oh uhm… Thank you for entrusting me.”

“Despite this little disagreement, I am aware that you are one of our best agents. However if you think you might need help, you can still ask Xavier to accompany you. Although he has been quite busy lately.”

“No no no ! Do not bother Xavier for this. I am more than capable of handling missions on my own. As for the mission… Can I ask you what is it that I am meant to do ?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the Lions’ den without information.” She said as she slid her hand on her desk, taking a handful of documents stored inside a pocket and handing them to you. “We need you to participate in an auction for charity.”

“For charity…” you mumbled. You never thought you would see the day of a charity auction being held in the a zone so… uncharitable. You start looking through the papers in your hand, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are as surprised as you look. As nice as the thoughts around this event are, we are particularly interested in one of the prizes that we wish you would purchase for us.”

Your eyes land on the auction picture of a diary, its cover is made of leather and the pages look old, teared up for some of them. “A diary ?”

“This diary seemingly belonged to one of the most wanted people of our organization. A doctor who previously worked here, in Linkon city, and got too deep in his interest for protocores and their links with people’s evol.”

“He experimented on humans…” you mumbled as you read the notes next to the picture that the intel team had written for you. "On children..."

“He indeed did. And we would like to prevent this diary from falling into the wrong hands. This is where your part comes in. Buying this diary away from that zone.”

You nodded as you guessed the objective of your mission long before she started explaining the reason why they would go fetch that book in the first place. Plus, that diary might bring you answers you are seeking about yourself. And as you remember your partner's jewel like gaze, about Sylus too. You then raised yours towards Jenna, closing the file between your hands and straightening your back.

“If you will allow me. I’m going to do the best I can to fulfill this mission.”

“I know you will. The auction is in three days. I hope it gives you enough time to gather any belongings and travel to a safe place in the N109 zone… If such a place exists.”

“Do not worry about me. I will be safe.”

You smile as Jenna raises her hand slowly with a peaceful expression as she dismisses you from her office. You exit the room, slowly closing the door behind you before walking to your desk, gathering your laptop and phone on the furniture. You then put the file inside your bag as you were already leaving the building. You would take the time to analyze everything once you were safely in the N109 Zone.

Phone in hand you immediately texted Xavier to let him know that you were leaving for a mission in the outskirts of your beloved city. As your thumbs were patting the screen of your phone, it suddenly started to vibrate. Soon enough the icon of Sylus appeared on your phone, a silly picture of him you took when he dozed off while watching a musical a few weeks prior. You frowned at the VERY convenient timing that he always had and picked up, raising your phone to your ear.

“Yes ?”

“The twins are going to pick you up at 5 this afternoon. Will you have enough time to be prepared before then?”

“Don’t tell me you hacked Jenna’s computer again. How many times do I have to tell you to not do that?” You frowned, faking or maybe wanting to be angry about that breach of your private life once again.

“There is no need to get angry at me. Be angry at the twins all you want though. They are the ones who insisted on checking up on you while I was away.”

“How do they even know how to hack-” you stopped in your tracks as you heard your voice the sound of a bike motor in the background of the call. “Are you calling me while driving ?”

“Now this is a reason you can get mad at me for.” he chuckles as you let out a frustrated sound. “Do not worry, sweetie, I have my helmet on. Just checking on you through earbuds.”

“Unsafe still. Your attention should be fully on the road.” you finally started walking towards the road that leads to your apartment, going through the usual route that takes you near along a river. “I thought you said you would be the one picking me up after Luke nearly got us in a car crash last time.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. But I do have some work meetings that need to be attended to." After a moment of quiet, he continued. “I trust Kieran will be the one driving you three back at home. I will be back before dinner.”

“Fine. Be careful on your way to your meet up… I will see you later.” you could hear a chuckle, and the picture of Sylus’ grin appeared in your mind. Before he could answer, you hung up.

You sighed as you crossed the street, pushing the door of your building entrance after entering the password on the door’s pad. Slowly you slid the phone inside your bag, totally forgetting about warning your colleague, and your friends, of the mission that will probably won’t let you have time for chit chat. Once you are inside your place, you quickly pull out a bag from the closet in the entrance, walking towards your bedroom to pack your essentials for the next few days.

An hour flew by without you realizing it before your phone rang. Luke. As you picked up you hear his cheerful voice coming from outside your building, you walked towards your opened window staring down.

“Miss ! Your carriage is waiting for you !” the masked man yells waving at you from below, catching glances from other people passing by.

“Get inside the car ! Can’t you see people are staring at you Luke ?” you frowned shooing him away with your hand.

“Heeeh. I’m hurt ! Are you embarrassed by me perhaps ?” You wondered if Sylus teasing was coming from spending too much time with them or the other way round.

You frowned not wanting to let your mind wander at that thought, hanging up and closing the window before picking your bag on your bed and leaving your apartment. Once downstairs you were greeted with no one but the black car with tinted windows that was just in front of the house, without giving it much thoughts you walked to the back of the car and climbed inside.

After exchanging proper greetings with the twins, and a short trip from Linkon city to the twins’ boss base.

It was night time now and you were settled down in one of Sylus couch in his apartments. You were going through the file once more, eyeing the clock in front of you from time to time. The meal was soon to be put down in the living room and you were definitely imagining eating alone at this rate. You sighed as you let your head roll on one of the sides of the couch, closing your eyes as you let yourself drift to the sound of the gramophone playing the music you put on earlier.

“Are you asleep ?” a whisper came above the sound of the music as a finger brushed against your cheek.

Your eyes opened and you looked up to the figure towering over you. Sylus gazed at you as he was leaning with one hand on the couch watching you slowly wake up from your nap. You slowly straight up, your files sliding from your chest and before you could react, Sylus caught it and put it down on the table next to you.

“Mmm no.”

“Sure you weren’t.” he smiled as he sat on the carpet next to the couch. “Don’t move.”

“But the dinner…” you mumbled still drowsy.

“Dinner is cold by now. I was late and you fell asleep. We are in no hurry anymore.” he says as he takes off his jacket, putting it down on the chair behind him, soon followed by his gloves. You sighed knowing that the man next you wouldn't budge.

“How did your meeting go ?” you asked as you traced every of his movements with your gaze.

“Productive. But a waste of time at the same time. We wasted 2 hours waiting for someone who never came. I honestly thought I was going to come back really early.”

“Would have been better…” you muttered.

Sylus' head turned to look at you with that same grin of his when he catches you being off guard. “Missing me I see.”

“Whatever.”

“I missed you too, sweetie.” he muttered as his face was now a few inches away from your face. And as always Sylus was the one to close that distance, his teeth started nibbling gently on your lower lip as he kissed you. His right hand comes to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I missed you a lot."

There was always this conflict inside of you when you felt the lips of Sylus on yours. A shyness that you wished you didn’t have, pushing you to turn your face away. However the drumming of your heart everytime his lips were on yours made you feel safe. Safe and cared for. The man suddenly started pushing his tongue against your lips, deepening the kiss drawing a sound from you in a sigh.

“Knowing that you were waiting for me here. Probably lying down on that bed or on that couch…” he muttered as he kissed your lips once again then your cheek and the back of your ear. “I wished I could have just left to join you here quicker.”

“You are… so dirty Sylus.” you whispered as you felt his hand slide on your shirt to start unbuttoning it. When Sylus admitted his excitement for you it always made you shiver. Not that it was rare for him to be so blunt. But being wanted and knowing that he was thinking of you that way, in places where he shouldn’t. God, he was the devil in person and he loved playing with his favorite person.

“If you want to blame me for the tension rising in this room. Feel free to do so…” he said, lips leaving a trailing of kisses from your neck towards your chest. “I would enjoy that.”

Soon his lips were not the only thing on your skin, his tongue traveled against you with wet kisses. Teeth sometimes nibble on you, trying to mark you as his. However he knew better than to do that or he would have been met with a warning look. Instead his hand slides away the remaining of your top clothes, revealing your skin to his red eyes ravishing each corner of your body, everytime.

“Your skin is covered in goosebumps. Are you getting worked up sweetie ?” he says smiling, his lips resting against your chest. A thumb sliding against one of your nipples. “I bet that if I slide my hand in your pants, I might find it dripping with excitement.”

“You are too sure of yourself.” you said trying to keep your voice steady as his lips brushed against your other nipple.

A low chuckle vibrates through his body at your answer. “Always so feisty, kitten.” he murmured, pinching with two of his fingers the nipple he had in his hand.

“Then… Shall we take a look ?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you closed your legs, preventing his hand from sliding under your pants and between your thighs. His hand stopped mid-way, resting against your lower body. He slowly quirked up his face, arching a brow with a smile.

“Getting shy ?” he asks, fingers fondling with the zipper of your pants. He soon pulled it down. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy you playing shy. I’d rather have my feisty kitten biting and fighting me than hiding away.”

Asshole you thought.

“Should I take out the ropes like last time ? Pull your legs apart ? I thought you learnt how to behave.” he said with a smile. “Or did you enjoy this so much that you want to try again ?”

Losing control from time to time was nice. But not tonight, you needed the contrary. You need to feel in control of your body. The next few days were gonna be stressful. One of your hands dared to come rest on his cheek as your legs opened against his hand.

“Good girl..” he said, his lips coming to nuzzle against your hand. And as usual when a kiss comes first teeth soon follow. His fingers able to slide under your pants and underwear come to slide in between your folds feeling the wetness of yourself under his burning gaze.

“Just as I thought.” he smiles as one of his fingers pushes inside you and you answer with a moan. His lips nibbling on the flesh of your palm, eyelashes brushing against your fingers as he starts going back and forth with his fingers inside of you.

Your head resting against the pillow of the couch, eyes closing as another moan came from between your lips as he pushed another finger inside of you. The fingers of your hand slowly extended to grasp onto strands of the man’s hair, while the other came gripping on the back of the couch.

“That’s it. Let yourself go, kitten.” A growl soon followed when you tug at his hair when his thumb rested against your clit making small circles as he never stopped pumping his fingers in and out of you.

You arched your back, the stimulation of his fingers rubbing against that one G spot inside of you and his thumb massaging your clit made you see stars. You tug on his hair once again in another sound, coming under his watchful gaze.

“Sylus…”

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always here.” he answered, coming to put a kiss on your forehead.

Once he pulls his fingers out of you, he slides a hand under you to carry you against him. You look up at him, arms sliding around his neck to secure yourself.

“And you ?”

“Oh ? Are you asking for more, sweetie ?”” he chuckles as you frown at him. His lips slowly come against your own to kiss you once more. “This is what I wanted. Nothing more for tonight. But I can not promise you anything just like this for tomorrow.” A devilish smile spreads on his lips.

“Did you have a shower already ?”

“I did… Earlier.” you answered as you rested your head against his shoulder. “What about food ?”

“You are hungry aren’t you.” He said as he settled you down on the bed. “Tell you what. I will come bring you some food and you can enjoy some while I take a shower. Sounds good ?”

“Sounds good. I will try to not eat everything.” You smile.

And just like that three days passed. Now you were standing in front of the door, arms crossed on your chest and Sylus blocking your way with his hands on his hips.

“I will not change my mind Sylus. I need to attend this auction alone.”

“What if I’d like to be charitable tonight?”

You scoff. “Please. You just want to keep your eyes on me.”

“I want to make sure you are safe and sound.”

“And I told you I can defend myself. If the HQ knows that I am attending an official mission with the boss of Onychinus, I could get in trouble. Because they will keep an eye on me ! Just like you do.”

Sylus sighs. You could be so stubborn. He slowly raised his hand to pinch his nose’s bridge. “Take Mephisto with you at least. He could help you in any case of an emergency.”

“That noisy little…” you were met by a glare that was telling you to not push your luck so you resigned. “Okay.”

“Good.” As soon as you agreed to his terms, he snapped his fingers and Mephisto almost appeared on your shoulder. Resting his claws against the fabric of your dress. “I will drive you there. And I will be there again to pick you up soon after Mephisto lets me know the auction has ended. Understood ?”

“Yes mom.”

He chuckles before pushing the door open, letting you leave the safe base first to get to the car parked in front of the entrance. He soon followed and got inside the car to start driving across the dark streets of the N109 Zone. Mephisto was awfully quiet, head turning around at each corner, as if the bird was already on a mission analyzing what was around him. You stared mindlessly at the street lamps barely shining some cold light on the pavement beneath them as you fondle with your bag between your fingers.

You were stressed. Stressed to not be able to bring back that diary. What if you came back in Linkon city with nothing to offer but the news that another potential monster had this fucking diary between their hands. How many children would have to suffer from experiments and be kept in the dark before they all stopped ? Without realizing it, you started clenching on your accessory. And the hand of Sylus left the gearbox to come rest on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you.

“Do not be anxious. People coming to those kinds of fake charity auctions hunt down people like you. Nice face, seemingly weak and rich.” he said. “Mephisto is a sign that you are under my watch but he can’t dissuade them from doing anything if they are crazy enough to try.”

“So I need to appear confident…”

“Exactly. I know you can do it. After all, you showed me your acting skills more than once.” he pressed his thumb against your thigh as he kept looking at the road in front of you. “I’m not here physically but Mephisto is my eyes. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know.” you sighed before taking another deep breath. It will be okay, you thought, Sylus is right. You had to have faith in yourself and in him. It will go by so quickly, you won’t even realize it.

The car slows down and you are now parked in front of an immense building, maybe even taller than some of Sylus’s ones. You look up from your seat as Mephisto mimics you. “Where are we ?”

“The place of the auction. The HQ of the Eurydike cult. Weird bunch of fuckers.”

You hummed before pushing the door open, before closing it you looked at your partner flashing him a smile. “I will be back.” He softly smiles back waving, asking you to be careful once more. And you closed the door, walking towards the entrance of the building, taking out the invitation out of your bag to show the bodyguards that you were allowed to enter the place.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were faced with a display of wealthiness and laughter coming from every corner of the giant hall. You were taken aback, thinking for a second that the only man you thought was this wealthy in the N109 Zone was Sylus. The hall was made of black marble with golden cracks, contrasted by high white walls that reflected the light of the candlesticks. Hanging banners here and there with an unknown insignia, and false plants hanging in green. You looked around, looking for a sign indicating the location of the meeting. But unfortunately the place was badly indicated, this auction was probably a place of regulars. However you spotted some people whispering about getting their place already to get closer to the stage, and you figured it would be the best idea to follow them around. Which you did. Everyone here was accompanied, and you were alone. Well accompanied but by a bird that started to get agitated. The sound of your heels against the marble under your steps was ringing in your mind. You stopped near a waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. You needed to relax, you needed to look like you belonged here. Alcohol might help you settle down.

So you went to sit at the first row, crossing your legs as Mephisto left your shoulder to take place on the chandelier hanging above your head. You could see some of the objects being displayed on the stage in front of you. Vases, stuffed animals, jewelry and… Wait. Was that one of Raphayel’s painting ? You frowned while taking your phone out of your purse to take a picture. Before you could press the button, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You flinched, turning around. “Miss. Sorry to bother you but you are not allowed to take pictures in this room.” A man with green eyes gazed upon you. He was tall, his hair and lashes almost hiding the gaze that you could feel burning on your face. His face did not seem upset, nor angry. Good… The last thing you needed was to attract angry people.

You smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that painting would interest my husband before I start bidding on it.”

“Oh ?” He looked up at the stage staring at the painting of the seashore painted with different shades of blue and orange, with the silhouette of a faceless woman dipping her feet in the water. “Hm. It is indeed a wonderful painting. From a very famous painter from Linkon City. Although it is one of his earliest works.”

“Are you familiar with this painter ?” you asked, interested in the knowledge of the person in front of you. To faint uninterest you slowly raise your glass to your lips looking away from the man.

“Familiar would not be right. We are acquaintances.” He then looks down at you smiling as he circles around the chair to finally sit next to you. “Although we haven’t seen each other for many years.”

“I see.” you nodded looking at that man dressed in white, your eyes landing on the cross shaped brooch on his tie. You swore you have seen this insignia somewhere. “And you are ?”

“Shh little miss. It’s starting soon. We will have all the leisure to chit chat after that auction is done.”

The auction began, and you drank the rest of your drink before waving to a waiter to come and get rid of you. Under your seat as under that of all the other participants was a small booklet with the passage numbers of each work or object. The one you were looking for was in last place. A sigh escaped from your lips as the first sums of money were thrown out of control.

Beside you, still stood this same man, his left leg crossed above the right and his hands clasped on his knees, looking at the scene with a satisfied smile. With the light down, you took the time to linger on her face. He had it very hard, like a man who had to face situations that those of Linkon city did not have to face. But this sweet smile on his lips came in contrast with the portrait that could be made of him. You wondered if Sylus knew the man. You slowly raised your head to look towards Mephisto who was looking straight at you under his watchful red eyes. Just like his master.

An hour and half passed, and you were starting to get numb to all the money that was being spent. The man next to you also did spend some money. He bought the painting you were eyeing earlier. And then came the mention of the diary.

As soon as you could, you raised your hand to bid. With a glimpse of mischievousness, the man next to you raised his hand. Followed by some other people in the room. After nearly a minute of bidding, you raised your hand again.

“Please stop playing sir. My husband is rather interested in this diary.” you muttered to the man next to you. “Stick to your paintings.”

A suppressed laugh came as an answer as your bid was registered as a final answer. The hand of the man next to you extended towards you as the lights turned on. “It’s a pleasure to be doing business with you, little miss.”

You frowned looking at the man’s gaze. “Business ?”

“I am the owner of this building and the organizer of this auction. My name is Castiel, pleasure meeting you.”

You gasped as you came to shake his hand. Dear god, why did you have to talk like that to the man who setted up a charity auction. This is why his brooch reminded you of something, it was literally plastered in the hall.

“I am very sorry for my-”

“No offense is taken. Should we talk privately ? I will give you this diary your husband so wishes to have.” he lets go of your hand, getting up before offering his arm.

“Yes.” you nod as you get up too, sliding your hand on the man’s arm. You were so giddy with the idea of success that you nearly didn’t realize Mephisto was cawing.

However if you didn’t notice, it was not the case of Castiel that turned his head up towards the bird with a frown. He then asked the security to take care of it, and before you could step in and prevent this from happening, you were dragged into the man’s office.

Once in his office, he let go of your hand. He headed towards the back of his desk, unlocking what sounded like a chest. In the meantime, you take the time to look around. The place was dark, but golden and green touches enhanced the place. You were basking in a warm light which contrasted with the cold atmosphere that was outside the sacred building. You did not move from the entrance, waiting patiently for you to be given what you had bought.

“This book was retrieved from a bad man’s hands.” His voice broke the silence that was installed between you two. “If your husband really is interested in this script, you should be careful of him.” He said as he got closer to you handing the overused diary.

“I will keep that in mind.” you nodded before taking the diary out of this man’s large hands.

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth to you. This close, you could see the eyebags between his vibrant eyes. A shiver ran up your back. “I hope our paths will cross again, little miss. If charity is what you are looking for, we could always use new members.”

Charity… “Sure. I would love to stop by once again. The fate of the N109 zone is very dear to me afterall.” You smiled.

He hummed. “Smart girl.” his fingers brushed your chin before you stepped back. “We should get going, your husband will surely show up in about a few seconds .”

Before you could answer, Castiel’s hand was on your free wrist and was dragging you out of his office, back into the auction room and in the middle of it stood Sylus. A visibly displeased Sylus. Almost angry. He shouted your name as soon as you came into his vision. The man with dark brown hair let go of your hand softly, placing his hand on your naked back.

“You should go, little miss. I’d hate for your husband to scare away my guests.”

You mindlessly nodded as you felt a sensation creeping up your back, and you almost trotted back to Sylus, pushing through the bodyguards preventing him from getting closer to their leader. Once in arms reach, the white haired man pulled you under his arm, hiding you beneath his coat.

And yet as you were leaving the scene, you could feel Castiel’s gaze burning holes in your back.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus #lads #fanfic #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader #sylus x you #not proofread

134 notes · View notes

604to647 · 4 months

Text

Marine Attraction

4.3K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: When a stakeout at the aquarium does not go as planned, Detective Tim Rockford must interview all the aquarium visitors, including you.

Warnings: Fluff! Meet cute! Maybe a dirty thought or two that reader really should not be having about a (hot) man just trying to do his job 🤭 Made up Merge Mansion lore. One cute nickname because it’s me (won’t spoil).

A/N: This was written for @mermaidgirl30’s Ocean Challenge – thank you for hosting a lovely event. Please see #Jamie’s Ocean Challenge for all the wonderful works! I’ve noticed that as of late, some of the authors that I look up to and consider mainstays in this community since I started lurking 2+ years ago have wanted to leave, needed to take breaks from the fandom or felt disconnected from the community. This story is for you, about stepping away when you need to and maybe rediscovering how something old can still bring you joy. Xoxo, love you all.

Fishy dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

EDIT: Oops this turned into a series - Masterlist

You’re not really sure how this happened.

You’ve been feeling a bit off, as of late. Nothing was wrong, per say - your job is fine, your friends are dear, your life leaves you grateful. It’s just that you feel… untethered. Like you should be doing something more? Work is fulfilling enough – you achieve and excel. Friends and family make for wonderful company, but your social battery isn’t infinite and as much as enjoy your get-togethers, they can leave you drained. Even some of your solitary pursuits, cooking, watching tv, scrolling through social media don’t seem to be as satisfying as they used to be – you consume, but you don’t create.

On a whim, you decide to take the day off work (the first in who knows how long?) and go somewhere you’ve always loved: the aquarium. You’ve been visiting this aquarium since you were a child – something about the gentle hum of the tanks and the darkness that’s illuminated only by the glow of the exhibits has always relaxed you. You’re going to go specifically to take photos. Photography used to be a casual hobby of yours; you were even featured on local news blogs and had your photos chosen for a gallery showing once – but as life got busier and your other endeavours required more of your time and energy, it had fallen by the wayside. It’s been forever since you took a photo walk or even a picture that wasn’t for capturing a moment rather than a snapshot. You’re actually getting excited about shooting photos again.

It had been a serene couple of hours spent watching your unhurried fish friends and the silent watery dances of the marine plants that shared their abodes. The aquarium is playing host to a few young families and two eager fieldtrips, but otherwise, you’ve had the place nearly to yourself. Able to loiter so you can try different lenses and play with the lighting of your shots, or wait as long as you want in order for a mixed rainbow hue of fish to swim into frame, the morning had passed quietly and contently.

But now you sit in the children’s play area, the last of today’s aquarium visitors, waiting for your turn to be questioned by the police.

---

Detective Tim Rockford is not really sure how this happened.

It had been a simple enough stakeout operation. He and his team had received a tip a few days ago that there would be a handoff taking place at the aquarium today: an exchange of money between one of Grandma Ursula’s henchmen and a mystery player whose identity has eluded Tim for the entirety of this case thus far. Perhaps it was unreasonable to expect Mr. Pie (so nicknamed by the squad for the Bolton Berry pies he consumed) to show up himself, but Tim held out hope that whomever they nabbed today would provide the break in the case that he so desperately needs.

Only, Grandma’s man had come and gone and none of the six men, Tim included, posted at the various vantage points and exits had seen a damn thing. At some point between spotting their target enter the aquarium with a briefcase in hand, they had lost track of him and picked up his movements again only when he was already leaving the gift shop, empty handed. How was it possible they couldn’t account for what happened in the aquarium? Did the meeting with Mr. Pie occur? Or was the briefcase stashed somewhere? Tim presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and grimaces – the operation had been an utter failure.

Not only did they not get what they came for, but now the remainder of the day was completely shot. What had followed once the police realized just how out of depth they were, was a complete shut down of the aquarium with all visitors locked in and needing to be interviewed before they could leave. Even the elementary school trips of thirty children. Each. After giving instruction to the additional LAPD support he called in to search the aquarium top to bottom for the missing case, Tim had settled in for a long afternoon of what he expected to be fruitless Q&As.

As he wearily enters the kids play area once again (an officer more considerate than he had suggested that given the number of children being held, it might be the best place to have everyone wait), Tim sees only one witness left to interview: you. He had noticed you earlier, each time he came in to select another interviewee, in fact – if your pretty features and sweet smile hadn’t caught his attention first, your everlasting patience and kindness would have. Several times, he spotted you playing patiently with the children – the sound of your melodic voice and gentle laughter floating above the grumblings of the other adults who had also had their days ruined. The sound eased the tense spot in his shoulders where his holster straps had started digging in a little bit. At first, Tim thought you might be one of the teachers or a field trip chaperone, but then he noticed that you let all the school trips and families with children go ahead of you, and he overheard you tell his fellow officer that you didn’t mind waiting, that it must be much harder for the children. He was grateful for you and he didn’t even know you.

As Tim approaches, you look up from your phone and shoot him the soft smile that’s been his one bright spot in this disaster of a day, though he thinks it seems a bit more tired than when he first had the pleasure of seeing it earlier this afternoon.

“Is it my turn?” you ask him, still in good spirits despite the circumstances.

“Sorry for the wait, miss.”

“No need to be sorry… Detective?”

“Detective Rockford. Tim Rockford. I appreciate that, it’s been… a day.”

You hold out your hand to shake his before repeating his name, then giving him your own. Tim can’t decide if he likes the way his name rolls off your tongue, or the way your own name floats above the cheer of your voice more.

“Well, hopefully I can help with… whatever has made it such a day,” you give him a sympathetic smile.

The kind of smile you might offer to him when he comes home after a long hard day. Damn. He’s in trouble. Focus, Rockford.

Since you’re his last witness of the day, he offers to conduct the interview right here instead of the stuffy office that the aquarium staff had lent him. As you acquiesce to his suggestion, you stretch out your arms and legs, arching your back to work out a bit of stiffness from having sat for so long and Tim finds himself admiring your figure in a way that is decidedly not going to help him solve this case. He tries to cover up his less than professional gaze by stretching himself – it feels good.

After collecting your information and starting with his routine questions, Tim realizes he’s pinning his hopes on you having seen or noticed something today – not only because no one else has, but so he can keep speaking with you.

When it becomes evident that you didn’t, he sighs a heavy sigh of disappointment.

He hadn’t realized that he’s done so until hears you apologize; quick to reassure you that that you don’t have anything to apologize for, Tim places his large warm hand over yours before he can stop himself. You gasp softly, you think only to yourself, but Tim hears the sweet noise and smirks a little – it’s nice to know he’s not the only one who’s been affected. When he notices that you don’t move your hand away, he lets himself revel in the feel of your soft, small hand under his for a beat longer before he removes it and somewhat begrudgingly starts to wrap up the interview.

---

Fuck. This fucking detective. Rockford. Tim Rockford.

Even his name is hot.

You had noticed him earlier, of course – how could you not? He was a hulking presence, impossibly broad and tall, and he carried himself with the authority and gravitas of a man in charge. During the earlier hours of your wait, you had been preoccupied with helping entertain some of the young children in the waiting area who were restless with boredom, not sure why their promised day of aquarium fun had to be ruined by something as trivial as a police matter.

But once you caught sight of Detective Rockford’s handsome profile, it became impossible to not be captivated by the deep richness of his brown eyes or that strong nose that centered his face perfectly. His grave countenance conveyed the seriousness with which he took his work (that facial scruff screamed he worked too much), but he was quietly calm and his tone gentle with all the witnesses, especially the children. You couldn’t help but hope it was him every time an officer entered the waiting area.

Some time between now and the last two times he had come in to call forth witnesses, the detective had lost his suit jacket, strolling in wearing only a gun holster and a white dress shirt that stretched taut over his firm chest and bulging arm muscles; you thought you were going to have to dunk yourself into one of the aquarium tanks to cool off just from the sight of him.

Your heart picks up a little when it’s him who appears when you’re the last one left to be interviewed; silently, you pray to Beyoncé to give you the strength needed to coherently answer the detective’s questions when he asks them in that honey laced baritone of his.

When Tim mirrors your big stretch, you hope you’re discrete enough that he doesn’t catch you staring: his limbs extend fantastically long, arm span wide enough to cast a shadow that reaches across the floor in front of you - he's huge. After hearing the detective inhale a deep breath, it feels to you as if all of the air has been sucked from the room, leaving you dizzy as you gawk at his hard chest, expanding and pushing up against his crisp dress shirt, held closed only by the strained efforts of a few valiant buttons.

You feel bad that you have to answer in the negative to Detective Rockford’s questions. Unfortunately, you hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary during your visit, too engrossed in your own photo taking, and you don’t remember seeing the man in the picture that he shows you. You can tell that Tim tries hard not to show his disappointment and wish very much that you could please him, be the one to wipe the weary look off his face and the release the tension from his hunched-up shoulders. Maybe please him in other ways, as well. You have a feeling that praise from one Detective Tim Rockford would have you dripping wet and clenching around nothing embarrassingly quick.

GIRL. GET IT TOGETHER. For all you know, a serious crime took place here today!

You apologize. Outwardly, for your inability to help him with his case, and inwardly, for the dirty thoughts that are wholly inappropriate to have about a complete stranger who is just, very competently, doing his job.

To try and put you at ease, Tim relaxes his handsome face and hopes to reassure you when he gently pats your hand; instead, a jolt of electricity shoots through you and you warm all over from his touch. Maybe it’s your imagination but Detective Rockford seemingly lets his bear paw of hand linger over yours for a bit longer than he needs to, and you think you spy his plush lips curve up slightly at the corners when you gasp. You might just melt off this bench right now.

“Oh, one last thing, did you take any pictures at the aquarium today?”

You nod, but are suddenly shy as you anticipate the Detective’s next question. Tim nods at you matter of fact, “Good. Could you please show me? I just need to look through them quickly to see if there’s anything in the background that might be useful.”

He holds his hand out, not really expecting any resistance - you’ve been nothing but perfectly cooperative so far. But when his hand remains empty, he looks over to find you adorably chewing your bottom lip while gripping your phone tightly with both hands, making no motion to hand it over. For one ridiculous moment he panics, Are you Mr. Pie?! He shakes his head slightly to rid himself of that ludicrous thought, and waits patiently for you to tell him what you’re ruminating on.

“It’s just that there are a lot of pictures..,” you start, “… and a lot of them are kind of duplicates…”

You know you’re being deliberately vague – sighing in resignation, you decide it’s best to just rip the band aid off. Unlocking your phone, you go to your camera roll and filter to today’s library before handing over your phone without meeting the detective’s gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tim scroll slowly through hundreds of photos of the aquarium’s exhibits; you attempt to avoid meeting his eye by focusing on how your phone looks inexplicably small in his big, rough hand.

“That’s… a lot,” Tim finally says when he reaches the bottom of the roll.

When you look up, you expect to see maybe a cringed look or even a mocking expression on the detective’s handsome face, but instead you find the massive man looking at you with a gentle curiosity, maybe even holding himself a little smaller in an attempt to not intimidate you. It doesn’t seem to matter that you don’t really know him, you suddenly feel comfortable enough to tell Detective Tim Rockford this very personal thing about yourself – he might look like he's perfectly cast as the 'bad cop' in interrogations, but you have a feeling he’s got just as good of a track record playing 'good cop'.

“An old hobby of mine was… I guess they call it iPhoneography? Using apps to mimic traditional camera captures? I used to love it, actually. Selecting the different lenses and choosing different exposures, then seeing how the images would developed – of course, with the phone, you wouldn’t have to take it in and wait for a week or anything, it would be processed digitally in a matter of seconds. But… editing apps are so common place nowadays, and most social media platforms have built in filters and effects - iPhoneography has sort of fallen out of favour,” you explain. Tim is nodding along - he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about, he has three apps on his phone that he uses regularly (Weather, Candy Crush, and the app from the City that reminds him when to put out his garbage bins); the rest of the apps on his phone were preinstalled and he can’t figure out how to delete them. But he encourages you to go on.

“In fact, I haven’t really gone out to shoot in years. But lately… I’ve sort of wanted to get back into it? I came to the aquarium today to fire up the old camera, so to speak. That’s why there’s so many – a lot of the pictures are just of the same frame but where I was trying out different lenses or exposure options. I’m not, like, super obsessed with fish or anything,” you finish up quickly, hoping you haven’t made a complete fool of yourself.

Tim hands you back your phone, still open to today’s photos, and smiles, “Why don’t you tell me about what you shot today?”

“Really?” you look up, surprised.

“Really,” Tim tries to convey his genuine interest via his eyes, and is instantly rewarded by a smile on your face that could light up the room. It’s certainly lighting him up.

And so, you tell Detective Tim Rockford all about the photos you took today. You swipe through your pictures and show him how the different lenses affect the lighting, exposure, saturation and even colour tinting of the resulting photo. You proudly tell him about how you had to switch up your technique and settings when shooting the tanks where the marine animals or plants thrived primarily in the dark or relied on bioluminescent light. You laugh, mainly at yourself, when you tell him about how long you stayed at certain attractions, waiting for a particular school of fish to swim perfectly into frame.

Tim thinks your laughter is the loveliest sound he’s ever heard.

You tell him your favourite sea creatures to photograph are the jelly fish because they’re so weird and they move with such alien grace, unpredictable yet seemingly purposeful, and that’s why there are more pictures of them than any other animal in your camera roll.

Tim finds himself enchanted watching you get more and more animated and excited as you go through the pictures you took today; while your eyes are peeled to your screen, he admires how they twinkle and the way your mouth slopes upwards, grinning wide even as you talk non-stop about your long-forgotten hobby. Your pretty face is aglow. He thinks he could listen to you talk about the things that bring you joy forever.

He lets you talk for an hour. You don’t even realize until you get to the last photo (a school of clown fish weaving between the tentacles of their anemone home) and glance up at the time at the top of the screen, “…oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!! I’ve prattled on for so long, I’m sure none of this was helpful at all!”

Tim won’t have any of that, “Don’t be sorry. You had fun. I’m glad you had some fun today… before I ruined it by sequestering you here in this waiting area for the entire afternoon.”

You shyly look at his apologetic face, “I’m having fun now.”

Tim can feel his ears warm and is sure they’re pink at the tips. Darn, you’re sweet. He distracts himself by flipping to a brand-new page in his notebook, “Me too.” You feel your heart expand at his soft confession.

“Now, I have some good news and some bad news.”

You look at him expectantly with an innocent, doe-eyed expression that Tim thinks might be one of the most dangerous things he’s ever encountered in all his years on the force, “The good news is that I think you’re a very, very good photographer. It’s clear you enjoy it and there isn’t a single photo you showed me today that isn’t obviously a labour of love. I think you should get back into it if you can. The way you were talking about your photos today, I don’t think I’ve seen that much joy on someone’s face in… I don’t know how long. I’m grateful you shared that with me.”

You’re speechless. His words are so, so kind… and exactly what you needed to hear today. You’re filled with tremendous gratitude and fondness for Detective Tim Rockford.

“… the bad news is, I spotted the reflection of our man in the shadows on the glass in some of your photos, and I’m so very sorry but I’m going to have to confiscate your phone,” Tim could not be more truly sorry.

After the initial shock of being told you’re losing your phone for a few days, you quickly recover and tell Tim that you’re genuinely glad you could help. You give him your email and use your phone to send off a message to a few of your group chats regarding how you can be reached for the next few days before dropping your phone into the evidence bag Tim produces. Under different circumstances, you might be upset at this turn of events, but the expression on Detective Tim Rockford's face is more than enough to make the minor inconvenience worth it – he looks invigorated, energized. Clearly, this is what he loves doing.

Walking you to the aquarium exit, Tim apologizes and thanks you again before seeing you out. Right before the door closes behind you, you turn and see him already rushing off to brief his team, your plastic covered phone clutched in his hand and an excited grin on his face. After the kindness and patience the detective has shown you today, you’re glad to have played a small role in putting that smile on his face.

True to his word, you receive an email from [email protected] just a few days later, letting you know your phone is ready for pick-up. When Detective Rockford meets you in the precinct lobby, you have to suck in your breath – he’s even more handsome than you remember, and you’ve been spending nearly every waking minute over the past few days picturing his strong jawline, soulful eyes, and that charming facial scruff you’d give anything to run your fingers through. He’s jacketless again, just another pressed white dress shirt that his broad frame threatens to rip through, bordered by those leather holsters that make you want to swallow your tongue.

As Tim takes you to Evidence so you can sign out your phone, he tries to chat amiably and not cast too many obvious and admiring glances your way; you’re all warmth and serenity in this place that he only ever associates with being loud, bustling and cold. He simultaneously never wants you to leave and wishes to sweep you far away and keep you only for himself, distanced safely from this place where his every day is synonymous with darkness and mystery.

When you’re once again outside, Tim leans against the frame of the precinct’s front doors and you look up at him from one step down, hopeful, “Did I help?”

Yes. You help more than you know, Tim thinks, having been unable to get your incandescent smile out of his mind since he last parted from you; finding that it’s become the image that grounds him during his long grueling hours. Instead, he says, “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Oh no – not this again,” you grin.

Tim smiles back, emboldened by your cheery demeanor, “The good news is that a lot of your photos and what the tech guys called… um.. meta data? A lot of it helped generate some good leads that we’re now following.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful! I’m so glad, Detective Rockford!”

“Tim. Please call me, Tim.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like calling you Detective,” you tease, good naturedly.

Tim should not feel his pants tighten at this, “The bad news is, because your photos had so much useful information, there is a very good chance they will be used as evidence if this case ever goes to trial. I don’t think you will need to testify, as you yourself didn’t see anything, and that meta data gives us the info on when and where the photos were taken. But even so… it means I can’t ask you out until the case is over.”

“Oh no,” you’re disappointed, but somewhat mollified that Tim has just basically asked you out without asking you out. “That is bad news indeed.”

Tim looks around to make sure no one is looking before he reaches out with his hand and gently strokes your cheek with the back of two of his thick fingers just once, whispering, “I’ve never wanted to put a case to bed more.”

You can’t let the joke pass you by, “The case? The case is what you want to put to bed?”

The booming laugh that shakes Detective Tim Rockford’s entire torso reaches all the way to his eyes, crinkling them in the most adorable way. It’s staggering the difference it makes – he looks 10 years younger, you think.

He’s needed this. A really good laugh. He’s needed it more than he realized. He’s needed you. He looks at your impish grin, so proud of yourself for pulling this sound from him, a sound so rare that it’s become almost foreign to his own ears; Tim hopes he’s able to convey his gratitude for you with the way his eyes have brightened, flecked with gold and mirth.

He thinks you just might understand him perfectly.

When you lift up on your toes to brush your lips softly against his scruffy cheek for a goodbye kiss, he whispers low in your ear, “I’ll call you, Shutterbug.”

A promise.

7 months later

The Grandma Ursula case has taken the nation by storm. The TV in your workplace breakroom is permanently dialed to the court case broadcast so no one misses a minute of the scandalous proceedings, a single interview with those involved in the case, or any legal and criminal analysts’ commentary. For someone who is billed as the Lead Investigator, Tim makes shockingly few appearances onscreen, but you feel a little thrill go through you whenever you catch a glimpse of his striking figure in the background of a news broadcast about the case, or when you see him standing stoically behind the head prosecutor while the latter debriefs the press from the steps of the court house.

You gaze dreamily at his face while the press shouts out what everyone (your friends, colleagues, the public) all want to know:

How many aliases does Grandma Ursula really have?

Can we even call it the Bolton Mansion anymore?

Why that particular number of pies?

You’ll be honest, you’re just as interested in the case as everyone else, but you have one pressing question that you know no one else is asking: Will he call when it’s over?

You’re in a departmental meeting when the verdict is read. It takes you forever to get back to your desk, caught up in everyone’s excited chatter about the ruling, but when you finally sit down and pull out your phone from your drawer, it’s to the best outcome you could have hoped for from the Grandma Ursula case. Positively beaming, you reread the text message sent from an unknown number only two minutes after the verdict was announced: Hey Shutterbug, take any good photos lately?

End note: The iPhoneography aspect of this fic is a bit self indulgent; some might know that this Tumblr used to be a photo blog before it became my writing blog. Just like reader, it's something I used to enjoy a lot but I haven't opened those camera apps in years - maybe I'll get back into it one day! In the meantime, yes - the aquarium photos in the moodboard are by yours truly 🤭

#Jamie's Ocean Challenge #Tim Rockford #Tim Rockford fic #Tim Rockford fanfiction #Tim Rockford x reader #Tim Rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

145 notes · View notes

alwaysonthemend · 1 year

Text

Falling, fallen | JTK

Author's Note: Hey guys! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted. I have a full time job and I’m in school so sometimes I get a little behind. I hope the length of this one makes up for the wait. The next thing I post will be the next chapter of Light My Love. Thank you to all of you who have reached out about that fic and I’m so sorry it's taking so long. As usual, this is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

Summary: You’re the best damn manager that Greta Van Fleet has ever had. You’re always on top of things, you never miss a beat, and shows run smoother than they ever have before. In fact, everything would be perfect if one of the band members hadn't decided to hate you for no reason. Jacob Kiszka despises you. And no matter how hard you try to be nice to him, he’s always just dismissive and rude. After countless little instances of Jake being an asshole to you, you decide that it might be time for a career change. Little do you know, your choice might lead to some unforeseen consequences.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, arguing, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving) oral (f. receiving) 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 10573

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

Being Greta Van Fleet’s manager is both the worst job you’d ever had and the best one. On the one hand, the boys are the most chaotic and hard to manage group of people you’d ever met. They were perpetually late to everything – becoming so frequent it was almost as if they were trying to not be on time. They rarely listen when someone else tries to tell them anything, preferring instead to always do things their way (no matter how many times it backfires on them). And each member was so incredibly particular about how they liked things – and were similar to frustrated little kids when things don’t work out. To put it simply: they’re exhausting.

But at the same time, they were all some of the kindest people you’ve ever met. They took you in; Josh immediately doing his damn best to make you feel included, Danny always there to give you comforting words of encouragement, and Sammy always making you laugh when you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed. They’re practically saints; and despite being so hard-headed, they do their best to not make your job more difficult than it already is. Just last week Josh had comforted you for almost an hour after you had accidentally overbooked a weekend of interviewers, scheduling two within the same time slot. He’d reminded you that being human meant making mistakes and that it’s totally okay to make them. And he’d also made sure to mention that you’re damn good at your job and one little mistake didn’t change that. You’d been able to fix the overbooking pretty easily and you both had laughed at your panic after the fact.

In fact, every single person you’d interact with that is a part of the Greta Van Fleet team treats you like you’re family – well, everyone except one. Jake. Jacob Kiszka had avoided you like the plague after your very first meeting. He’d walked into the conference room clad in a black shirt unbuttoned down to his stomach and a pair of white slacks with silver necklaces falling to rest on his tanned chest.. Dark sunglasses were covering his eyes (despite not needing them inside). He’d walked in with an air of complete and utter control, and you’d immediately bristled as he took a seat. After the introductions had been made and all the paperwork and business discussed, you’d approached him to try and introduce yourself personally. You’d managed to meet all of the other members right off the bat and you wanted to extend the same to him – despite how uncomfortable he made you feel.

“Hi!” You’d stuck your hand out to him. “I’m y/n. I’m really looking forward to working with you!” You had plastered your most welcoming smile you could muster as you waited for his response. He looked you up and down before taking your hand in his. His fingers had been warm and you could feel the callouses on them as he shook your hand.

“I know. They introduced you earlier. And you know who I am.” His words held no malice in them, nor anger or frustration. The only emotion he’d met you with was the absence of any at all. Indifference, complete and utter indifference. He dropped your hand and left the room without another word, and without so much as a glance back in your direction. You’d just stood there, jaw hanging open as you watched his retreating form.

“Sorry about him.” Josh had said, coming to stand beside you. “He isn’t the best at meeting new people or small talk.”

“No kidding.” You huffed, eyes still trained on the door he’d just left.

“Give him time.” Josh squeezed your shoulder and gave you a smile. “He’ll come around.”

But he hadn’t. In fact, it seemed that Jake’s dislike for you only intensified as time went on – despite your best efforts to become at least slightly friendly with him. It seemed like the closer you got with the other bandmates, the colder he grew towards you. It frustrated you beyond measure. Everyone liked you. You pride yourself on being able to find common ground with just about anyone, and you ‘d be lying if you said that you weren’t damn good at getting people to like you – no matter who they are. But Jake remained untouchable. He was the only one that you knew practically nothing about.

It didn’t take long after that first meeting for you to become very close with Josh. It was almost unbelievable to you that they’re twins. They’re so completely unalike. Sure, their mannerisms were strikingly similar and their facial expressions were one and the same – but beyond appearances, their personalities were like night and day.

“Josh?” You had asked, about a month into working with them.

“What’s up, y/n?” He’d replied cheerfully, glancing up from his notebook to look at you.

“Why does Jake hate me?” You asked, dramatically falling into the chair across from him. “No matter what I do, he won’t give me anything. Not even his damn facial expression will change. I don’t get it.” You closed your eyes and laid your head back in defeat.

Josh chuckled at your theatrics.

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” He trailed off, lightly tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I actually have no fucking clue.”

You groaned and rose from your place across from him and took a seat on the arm of Josh’s chair.

“I hate it. Everyone likes me.”

“Look, y/n. Jake is just… Jake. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

You paused for a minute, watching as Josh absentmindedly doodled.

“I’m gonna make him like me if it’s the last thing I do.” You declared suddenly, filled with a new sense of determination.

“Oh, God. Here we go.” Josh sighed, placing his pencil down. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because everyone likes me. And I’ll be damned if I let Jacob Kiszka be the one to ruin my track record.”

Josh just shook his head at you.

Step one of your plan was to go out of your way to be nice to Jake, even when he would inevitably try to dismiss you. You’d seen him interact with his brothers and Danny and so you knew that he could be sweet. You just had to figure out why he wouldn’t act like that around you.

Your first opportunity arose one morning about a week after your conversation with Josh. You had awoken early – far earlier than you alarm, and so you had some time to yourself before you had to start rounding up the boys from their separate hotel rooms. You’d gone down to the lobby to treat yourself to a quiet breakfast, away from the craziness that promised to fill the rest of your day. The boys had a show tonight and you had to deal with hotel checkout since they were flying out that very same night to a different city. You entered the breakfast area to see Jake sitting alone in the far corner, nursing a cup of coffee. He glanced up at you as you entered and you waved happily at him before making your way over to his table.

“Morning, Jake!” You said as cheerily. “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

He glanced at you over his sunglasses, assessing your smiling face as you waited for his response.

“If you’d like.” He said simply, looking back down at his phone. You frowned at his lack of interest but brushed it off and took a seat.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, giving him the most genuine smile you could.

“Yes.” He answered, short and curt. You waited for him to say more – he didn’t.

“Are you excited for the show tonight? I know I am.”

He sighed and looked up from his phone again at you. He looked annoyed, but you tried to not let your disappointed show on your face at his clear disinterest in talking to you.

“Mm hm.”

The table fell into awkward silence. You couldn’t think of anything else to add. As you sat there, racking your brains for something else to say to try and get a conversation going, Jake rose from his seat abruptly.

“I’m going back to my room.”

“Oh!” You said, taken aback. “Okay. I’ll see later!” But he was already walking away, again refusing to spare you even a passing glance backwards.

“Fuck.” You said to yourself, grimacing. That hadn’t worked at all.

You kept trying as the weeks went by, trying everything you could think of to get him to stop acting like he hated you. You tried bringing him coffee to his hotel room, ordering his favorite foods for meetings, you’d tried asking him about his guitar, or what his favorite city to visit was. You had tried everything and were quickly running out of ideas. Everything you did was met with stony indifference and clipped responses.

Things didn’t start to escalate until after you approached him after a show one night to congratulate him on a wonderful performance.

“You did awesome out there, Jake! Like always!” You said as he walked into the greenroom, sweaty and chest heaving with the exertion of the night. Your eyes couldn’t help but to stare as a drop of sweat rolled down his throat and dripped down onto his chest.

“Thanks.” He started to walk away but you called out to him.

“Wait!”

He turned to you sharply at your raised voice. You hadn’t meant to call out that loudly but you weren’t backing down now.

“Why are you such an asshole to me?” You asked, sudden confidence flowing through you. You watched as his nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to say something before suddenly closing it again. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n.” He said, voice calm and cold.

“Bull shit.”

“Goodnight, y/n.” He said, turning his back to you and walking away. You stood there for a long moment, rage flowing through you.

“So,” Josh said loudly, startling you from your anger fueled reverie. “Operation Make Jake Not Hate You doesn’t seem to be going very well, huh?” He looked smug. He too was sweaty from the show and you could feel the warmth of him radiating from his skin in waves.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Joshua. I fucking give up.” You threw your hands up angrily in defeat. “If he’s so determined to hate me so much for no fucking reason, fine! I hate him too!”

And with that, you stormed off, blood pressure only rising more as you heard Josh laughing loudly at you as you stomped away.

True to your word, Operation Make Jake Like You turned into you just trying to ignore him back. You still managed to maintain professionalism, managing his needs and making sure things were done correctly for him – but other than that, you tried to remain friendly with him without pushing for anything more. Instead, you took to hanging out with the other guys in between shows and during the day. And you started spending more and more time with Josh. The two of you had a lot in common, sharing many of the same favorite songs and artists and you both loved to laugh. Josh was so easy to be around and he quickly became your closest friend amongst the boys. You spent lots of time together when your schedules allowed for it, and your little obsession with Jake finally stopped consuming your every thought. He still gave you a cold shoulder, but you tried to stop letting it bother you. It still stung, everytime he dismissed you, but you grew used to it.

Life moved on and your job quickly became a whole lot smoother than it had been at the start. You knew the ins and outs of handling the boys and it took a lot to throw you off now. Things were running smoothly and efficiently – better than they ever had before with other management. Danny had told you as such one night, as you all had been relaxing at a small little downtown bar. You all had a free night and everyone wanted to take advantage of it.

“I’ve gotta say y/n, I think you’re the best manager we’ve ever had.” Danny said, catching the attention of everyone else.

“I absolutely, wholeheartedly agree, Danny.” Josh said, giving you a grin.

“A toast?” Sammy asked, raising his glass to the middle of the table.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Josh confirmed as he and Danny raised their glasses as well.

“To the best damn manager we’ve ever had!” Josh yelled and the three of them clinked their glasses with yours.

You laughed and blushed, touched by their kindness.

“Isn’t that right, Jake?” Josh asked, turning towards his twin who had remained completely silent.

“Oh yes. The best.” He said, his usual indifference melting away into plain bitchiness.

Danny, Sam, and Josh stared at him, all taken aback by the sarcasm dripping from his words.

“You know, if you have such a problem with me, why don’t you just come out and say it to my face, Jacob.” You said darkly, venom lacing your own words.

“Hey, look guys. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up, Sam.” Jake said, slamming his glass down. “Maybe I do have a fucking problem with you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the fucking problem, then?” You spat, rising from your seat to glare at him.

“Y/n…” Josh hedged, sensing the impending blow out that had been months in the making.

“Tell me what the problem is, Jake? I have been nothing but nice to you since the day we met. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?”

Jake rose from his seat too, slamming his palms down on the table. Your raised voices were drawing looks from everyone else at the bar.

“My problem, y/n,” He said, and he spat your name out like it tasted terrible, “is that you’re fucking annoying. You won’t leave me the fuck alone. I’m so sorry that I don’t fall for your obnoxious need to always try and be fucking sunshine and rainbows all the god damned time. You can’t stand that I just don’t like you.” He said the last part slowly and cruelly, eyes blazing from across the table.

“And I’m sorry that you’re so fucking miserable that you can’t stand it when the people around you aren’t!” You shouted, and Danny rose from his seat to put a placating hand on your shoulder. You jerked out of his grip angrily. “You are such a dick, Jake! All I’ve ever tried to be with you is nice. But you dismiss me like I’m a child! I’m sick of it!”

“Alright, enough!” Josh shouted, rising from his own seat. “Both of you, that’s enough!”

Embarrassment over your outburst flooded you suddenly, making your cheeks grow warm. Jake seemed to also have the decency to at least look embarrassed himself.

“I’m going to my room.” Jake said, voice cold and very clearly still angry. “Don’t fucking wait up.” And with that, he stormed away.

You collapsed back into your seat and put your head in your hands, a headache slowly beginning to form behind your eyes.

“Hey,” Danny said, placing his hand back on your shoulder, “just ignore him, y/n. He’s not worth it.”

“I just don’t get what I did to make him hate me!” You cried, hating the way your eyes were filling with tears.

“You didn’t do anything. He’s just Jake.” Josh said softly, before taking a sip of his drink to calm his nerves. He hated seeing the two of you fight: his twin and his best friend. He hated it so much.

“He’s just an asshole, nothing else to it. He likes being grumpy. I honestly think he gets off on it sometimes.” Sam said, and his statement made you laugh quietly despite yourself.

“Thanks, guys.” You said, taking a large gulp of your bourbon.

The conversation moved on and you allowed yourself to forget your argument with Jake, doing your very best to shove your hurt down into the deepest recesses of your brain. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night any more than he already had.

Once you all had finished eating and goodbyes were said, you slowly trudged your way to your hotel room, wishing suddenly that you were back home in your own bed. You loved traveling all around with them, but the night's events were making you yearn to be home. You got ready for bed as quickly as you could, hoping to try and get some good sleep since the boys would be performing tomorrow – show days are always exhaustingly chaotic.

But no matter how long you lay there, sleep continued to evade you. Your thoughts were swirling with Jake’s words, and you couldn’t get his angry face out of your head. Him calling you annoying had hurt – more than you would ever admit out loud. Normally, you’d usually be able to ignore someone else’s jabs at you; but for some reason, Jake’s dislike of you made your chest ache. Well… you knew why it bothered you so much – and you hated yourself for it.

Despite the months of clipped words and cold glares, you’d unfortunately found yourself with a crush. More than a crush, if you were being completely honest with yourself. He was attractive of course, but you had also watched him interact with everyone else enough to see that he was actually a really nice guy. He was sweet and thoughtful, always going out of his way to make sure others felt comfortable. He was always humble, no matter how many sold out arenas he played in – and he would still blush when fans came up to him in public. You had fallen for the version of Jake that he never let you get to experience. And that’s what hurt you the most: the fact that he wasn’t really an asshole – he just truly didn’t like you. You were embarrassed for not realizing it sooner. All these months you had spent trying to get to know him and talk to him, you’d just been making yourself look like a fool. An annoying fool, apparently. You vowed to yourself, laying there that night, that you’d do your very best to stay out of his way. No more attempts at conversations, no more smiles or waves when he entered the room. Hell, you’d even try to start sitting out the aftershow outings with the boys. You’d continue being the best damn manager they’d had, but you’d keep your distance.

The following day was filled with rushing around as you made sure everything was ready for the show. You were at the arena all day, checking with sound and the tech people, so it had been easy to keep your distance. By the time the show started, you were exhausted but proud with how smoothly things had gone. You watched them play from off the side of the stage, tucked into the shadows. Josh’s vocals were incredible – as always, and he’d sent you several smiles and winks as the show progressed. Sam and Danny were flawless, of course. They were the backbone of the band and they never failed to deliver. Jake was utterly transfixing on stage. It was hard to look away from him as he played, but you did your best to put your focus elsewhere.

Everything was going great until the third to last song of the set when you noticed Jake frantically gesturing to one of the backstage workers. You squint your eyes to try and see what was wrong. He was gesturing wildly in a manner that’s so reminiscent of Josh that you almost smile. The rest of the boys are sending concerned glances back at him. He’s not playing the guitar. Sam starts a bass solo to try and cover for Jake, but you can tell that they’re growing more concerned. Finally, another tech person runs over to the back corner of the stage where Jake is with another one of his guitars in hand, He quickly swaps it out before running back to his place on stage. Sam finishes his solo – met with thousands of screams from the audience, and you think that it’s safe to assume that few of them noticed whatever just happened. The tech guy walks past you swiftly and you see the cause of Jake’s anger: a string had snapped on his number one guitar – on stage no less. You turned your eyes back to Jake to see him playing again, and this time you could see the anger oozing from him. His playing had turned downright nasty as he vented his frustration out through his music. You looked away, unable to watch his sinful movements.

The rest of the show went great, and they closed it out to the screams of their fans as they walked off stage to go change. There was no doubt in your mind that they’d be going to a bar – Jake would probably insist. You went about finishing up all you had to for the night, and you made sure to go and find the worker who had brought Jake his other guitar so you could thank him for his swiftness. He’d given you a huge smile, shocked that you’d sought him out.

“Hey, y/n!” You heard Danny call, just as you were beginning to gather up your things to leave. He had changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a sleeveless band tee. “We're gonna go out for drinks. Coming with?”

You shook your head and gave him a sad smile.

“Not tonight, Danny. I’m going to head back to my room.”

“Why? You always come with us.” He gave you a pout, and you wanted so badly to cave and go with them. But no. You’d made a promise to yourself.

“Jake had a bad night tonight, Danny. I could practically see how mad he was up there. He deserves to go unwind. Me being there isn’t going to help that.”

Danny sighed.

“Y/n… come on.”

“It’s true!” You insisted, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He hates me. He thinks I’m annoying. And I have been annoying. I’ve been trying to force him to like me without thinking about how it must have been making him feel. My job is to make your lives easy, not to make them more difficult.”

“I really don’t think you make his life more difficult, y/n. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Danny said, and the sympathy in his voice made you want to cry. You could feel your eyes welling with tears for the second night in a row.

“Thank you, Danny. But I’ve made my decision… And I think it’s the right one.” You sniffed and swiped a hand under your eyes in an attempt to hide your tears from him. “You guys have fun.”

You walked away quickly, leaving Danny to watch you go with sad eyes.

The next few shows went about the same (though thankfully without any guitar mishaps for Jake). The boys would go out to celebrate, and you would politely decline to go with them. You’d asked Danny to keep your earlier conversation to himself, and he’d begrudgingly agreed to do so.

“You can’t just shut yourself away because you think his opinion about you is the end all be all.” He’d said, eyes once again filled with sorrow for you.

“It’s okay, Danny. Really. I was becoming too unprofessional with you guys, anyway.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

“Can we please just drop it.”

And Danny did. The tour continued on, and you slowly distanced yourself from the boys. You kept things running smoothly from afar, and you did your best to stay away – no matter how much you missed them.

Josh had grown increasingly more concerned for you, begging you to tell him what had changed. You’d just shake your head, telling him that you were just too tired or had work you needed to catch up on. It only took him a month to call your bluff though.

“This is all about Jake, isn’t it?”

The two of you were sitting in your hotel room after he’d insisted he follow you up to “catch up.” You’d allowed it, as you’d been missing hanging out with him terribly.

“What’s about Jake?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as innocent as possible.

He rolled his eyes.

“You suddenly avoiding hanging out with all of us. It’s because of what Jake said that night, right?”

You sighed. There was no way you could lie to him. He knew you too well and you were tired of putting on a brave face. You let your shoulders slump and your face fall.

“I just wish I knew what I did wrong.” You said quietly, voice wavering as you fought back tears. You were so tired of crying over Jake Kiszka.

“Hey, hey.” Josh walked quickly over to sit next to you on the bed. “Y/n, come on. Don’t cry.”

Your face crumpled as the hurt that you’d been hiding for weeks finally bubbled to the surface, spilling over your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You said through your tears, feeling stupid for crying like this to him. He was your best friend, sure. But he was still your boss at the end of the day. This was so unprofessional of you.

“Don’t apologize, okay?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you buried your face in his chest. He was warm and smelled good, and all you could think about was how much you wished you’d fallen for him instead of Jake. “Why are you letting him get to you so much, sweetheart? Normally, you’d kick someone’s ass for talking to you like he did.”

You just shook your head, shame filling you as you thought about your stupid feelings.

“It’s just different with him, Josh. I can’t help it.” You took a steadying breath, trying to get yourself back under control. You sat up from him and ran a hand through your hair. It was silent for a long moment.

“Oh.” Josh said, a sudden sadness coming over his face. “Damn it, Jake.” He sighed, pinning you with sad, sympathetic eyes.

“What?” You asked, confusion written clearly across your face.

“All that time you spent obsessing over trying to get him to open up to you, the way you made it your mission to become his friend… I can’t believe I didn’t realize before.”

Your heart was pounding with dread. There’s no way he’d just figured it out, right? There’s no way you’d been that obvious.

“What are you talking about?”

He was looking at you like you were a tragedy. You hated it.

“You like him, don’t you? Like, as in more than a friend?”

You turned away, face burning with shame. Josh reached out and turned your head back to face him. A fresh wave of tears leaked from your eyes.

“I can’t help it. I tried to make it stop. But I just can’t help it.” You cried, and a loud sob worked its way through your chest. You were shaking.

“We can’t help who we fall for.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry, y/n. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“There’s nothing to say, Josh.” You muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” you hedged, suddenly afraid to tell him what you’d been planning for after the tour, “after this last leg of the tour, I’ll probably ask my boss to have someone else transferred to you guys to take my place. I don’t think me staying is a good idea.”

“Y/n, no!” Josh exclaimed, and the sudden rise in volume made you startle slightly. “The rest of us love you! You’re our friend!” he cried, gripping your shoulders tightly. “And you really are the best manager we’ve had. Things have been going so amazing since you joined us!”

“Josh, I’m sorry but I just can’t do this. Jake’s unhappy, I’m unhappy. It’s best if I leave.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, then?” He asked, voice falling quiet again.

“I have.”

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.” It’s not a question. He knows there isn’t.

“No. There’s not. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, and for a moment you’re afraid that he’s angry with you. But then he reaches over and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I understand, y/n. It’s okay.”

You could sob at the feeling of relief that washes over you.

“But you have to stay in contact with the rest of us. You have to.” He said, pulling away from you and pinning you with a serious look. “Promise me.”

You giggled.

“I promise.”

Time seemed to fly by as the end of the tour drew nearer, and before you knew it, there was only one show left. Emotions were high in the greenroom backstage as they all prepared to go out one last time, and there was a lingering sadness in the air as you had let Danny and Sam know that you wouldn’t be coming back for the next tour. They’d both been crestfallen at your choice, but hadn’t pushed you to give a reason why. Deep down, you were pretty sure that they already knew.

“Good luck guys. You’re gonna kill it, like always.”

“Thanks, y/n.” Sam said, wrapping his long arms around you tightly. You gave him a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s all for you tonight, y/n! Thank you for everything.” Danny said, also coming up to give you a hug. You smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

“Thank you, Danny.” You said quietly as he pulled away.

Josh came up next. He stared at you for a long moment, a sad smiling gracing his lips. He finally hugged you too.

“You deserve to be happy.” He whispered in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Thank you.” You said, “For everything.” He gave you a grin.

“Well, boys,” He said, turning to the guys, “We ready?” They all nodded in excitement and you watched them go with a proud smile. Your smile quickly dropped though as you realized that Jake was still standing there. You looked at him, confusion and trepidation clear on your face.

“Good luck, Jake.” You said quietly, dropping your eyes to look at your feet. You couldn't bear to look at him.

“Y/n,” he said, taking a step towards you.

“Two minutes!” You heard someone call. You didn’t say anything as you waited for him to finish.

“Could we… talk? After the show tonight?” He asked, and his voice was the softest you’d ever heard it directed to you.

“Um. Sure?”

He nodded his head curtly.

“Good. Perfect.” He walked towards where the rest of his bandmates had gone, stopping momentarily to look back at you. “Thanks.”

It felt like your entire nervous system was on fire. Jake’s words had been so unlike him – soft, unsure. You felt like your head was in a washing machine, spinning around in all directions with no end in sight. You knew he probably felt guilty. Despite not liking you, you know that he’s a nice enough person to feel bad for being the reason that you’re leaving – any decent person would. And you know that Jake is far more than just decent. You just wish that things had been different.

You stayed in the green room, doing your best to distract yourself with your phone. You scrolled through every social media feed you had and still time seemed to drag on. You got up and wandered around aimlessly, cleaning things that weren’t your job to clean and tidying things that weren’t untidy to begin with. You tried humming to yourself and singing songs, but your stomach was in complete knots. By the time the show was finished, you were already exhausted.

It wasn’t long before Jake entered, and you rose from where you had collapsed onto the sofa.

“Hi.” You said, taking him in. He was sweaty – his usually soft hair was damp and messy. He’d changed from his stage outfit into a pair of dark jeans and a cream colored button down (with his signature look of only having two buttons actually done up). His silver coin necklaces rested against his tan chest.

“Hey.” His voice had that softness to it still – completely unlike the Jake that you had come to know. “Can we go somewhere? To talk? Preferably somewhere where the others won’t barge in on us.”

“There’s a work room down the hall that no one’s using. I ate lunch there earlier.”

He nodded, turning towards the door. You followed swiftly, your purse clutched tightly in your hand. You passed the other guys as you made your way towards the spare room and your cheeks flamed as you and Jake walked by them. You ignored their questioning eyes as they watched you and Jake, no doubt shocked to see the two of you walking together. Your eyes met Josh’s briefly as you left, and your cheeks flamed an even darker shade of crimson as he gave you a knowing smirk.

You pointed towards the door of the spare room and Jake nodded, walking up to it and pushing it open. Sure enough, it was completely empty. The sign on the door said “Staff Only,” and you had only stumbled across it because you had wanted to eat somewhere where the others couldn’t bother you. You had needed some time to just exist by yourself, and the spacious room had been perfect.

Now, standing there with Jake, it felt suffocating. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. His presence was overwhelming. You could smell him from where you stood – a blend of his natural musk and a hint of vanilla. You wanted to cry.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to talk to me…” Jake finally hedged, breaking the silence that has descended over the two of you.

You scoffed.

“Yeah. I’m shocked, honestly.” Your words came out sharp and you winced slightly. You weren’t trying to start another fight with him. But he’d hurt you. Badly.

“Yeah.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “The guys said that you aren’t coming back for next tour.”

“I’m not. I don’t really feel all that welcome here anymore.” You bit out, and Jake was the one to wince this time. The anger from that night at the bar was suddenly coming back, and you wanted so badly to slap the shit out of him. “I’m sure you were happy to hear the news.”

Jake looked away.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know you fucking hate me.” You huffed and took a seat on the sofa that was shoved into the corner.

“I don’t hate you.” He sounded defeated, and there was a small, mean little part of you that was delighted to hear that tone from him. Like he was finally feeling how he had made you feel for all that time.

“Could have fooled me.”

He sighed again, and suddenly he looked so much older than he had a moment ago. His shoulders were slumped and you almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you didn’t. You crossed your arms and stared at him expectantly.

He seemed to sense that you weren’t going to say anything else.

“Can I sit?” He gestured at the empty spot next to you.

“Sure.”

He took a seat. You could feel the warmth radiating off him. It was silent for a long moment. You, unwilling to say anything else and Jake unable to find the words.

“Well?” You asked, pinning him with an impatient glare. “I’m here. If there’s actually a point to this conversation please say it so I can leave.” You know you’re being unfair. He’s clearly working up to trying to apologize but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve spent so long letting him make you feel like you’re less than, and for once you finally have the upper hand.

“I’m sorry.”

That stops your thoughts in their tracks. You’d expected him to beat around the bush, to give an excuse, to say you’re overreacting. A straight up, no nonsense apology had been the last thing you were expecting.

“What?” You couldn’t help but to ask, incredulity evident in your tone.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick.” You stare at him – searching for any traces of a lie. You find none. There’s only a sad truthfulness reflected in his brown eyes. “You haven’t done anything to deserve how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse.”

You let his words sit heavy between the two of you for a moment. You’re at a loss. He doesn’t have an excuse, and you have no idea what to say back to him.

“Thank you.” You finally breathe out, voice quiet and unsure.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, voice equally reserved in the odd tension. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that’s the best choice. You’re a good manager. It’ll be hard for us to find a good enough replacement.” He looks down at his hands. He’s fiddling with them, picking at the skin of his thumbs the way he often does when he’s lost in thought. You’d watched him do it on numerous occasions.

“I don’t really know what to say to you, Jake. You really hurt me. I…” You stop yourself, unwilling to let him see how deeply his words and actions had cut you; unwilling to show him how weak he had made you.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me anything. But I do want to ask you to stay.”

Rage fills you suddenly, so sudden and sharp that your vision seems blurry as your blood pressure rises at his words.

“How fucking dare you.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you think about all that he’s done. “I tried so hard to be nice to you. I wanted your approval so fucking badly. I let you make a fool out of me. How fucking dare you to ask me to stay now?” Your voice got louder and louder as you spoke, and Jake’s eyes widened at your sudden change in demeanor. “Fuck you, Jake Kiskza. That’s all I have to say.” You rose suddenly with the intent to get the hell out of there when he too rose to his feet.

“That’s not fucking fair, y/n!” He yelled, hands clenched at his sides. “I’m trying to apologize, here. You don’t have to throw it right back in my fucking face!”

“Hurts doesn’t it. Trying to be nice, only for the person to throw it back in your face?”

Jake rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here. Jesus Christ.” You cry, turning back towards the door.

“Yeah. Go cry to Josh, like you always do.”

His words feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on you.

“What?” You ask lowly, turning back around to look at him. He’s got his shoulders pushed back, defiance glittering in his eyes.

“I said, go cry to Josh. Just like you always do.”

“What in the ever living fuck,” you growl, stepping back towards him so that your chests are flush, “is that supposed to mean.”

He looks down at you and you can practically see the anger radiating off him.

“It means that I’m tired of watching you following him around like a kicked puppy. He’s not interested by the way, in case you were wondering.” A smug smirk paints its way across his lips and you want so badly to slap it off him again.

“What on Earth makes you think I want anything like that with Josh?”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, “I’m not fucking blind. You want him – you’re always hanging out with him, hugging him, touching him. It’s pathetic.”

“And so what if I do want him?” You ask, blood practically boiling. “Why do you fucking care what I do with someone else?”

“I don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck what you do, y/n!” He shouts. The two of you stare at each other, both of your chests heaving as you practically square the other up. His face is twisted in anger – but there’s something else there, hidden in his eyes. It’s not anger.

Holy shit.

“Are you fucking jealous?” Your voice is high and shaky, and you watch as his eyebrows shoot to his hairline at your question.

“Are you insane? I’m not jealous. Jesus, what the fuck?”

There’s a defensiveness in his tone now, and he’s suddenly looking anywhere on your face but your eyes.

“You are. You’re jealous. Jealous because you think I want Josh.” You don’t pose it a question because you know. You can see it all over his face. He’s been jealous this whole time. Sure, maybe your first meeting had just been a result of his poor small talk skills… but everything else? Pure jealousy.

“Fuck you.” He spits, but he knows he’s been caught.

“You are a fucking idiot, Jake. Holy shit. I don’t want Josh, dumbass! I wanted you!”

His jaw drops and he stares. There’s a part of you that’s embarrassed for admitting it out loud, but the panic that flashes across his face is worth it.

“What?”

“You heard me. I never wanted Josh, Jacob. I wanted you. But you were so much of a dick that I gave up.”

“Wanted?” His voice is suddenly small, empty of the anger that had filled it just moments before.

“I don’t know.” You answer, and it’s the truth. After everything, you’re not sure the two of you could ever form a normal friendship – let alone anything more.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, before sitting heavily back down on the sofa. You sit back down next to him, the fight drained from you at your confession. Neither of you know what to say.

“I thought you and Josh slept with each other… or were going to. This whole time.”

You don’t say anything. There’s nothing left to say, really.

“I wish you had just asked. Instead of assuming.”

“Me too.” He turns to you, and his eyes look so sad it makes your chest ache. You don’t want to look at him when he looks like that.

“Would you still?”

You look at him confused.

“Want me?” He clarifies. “If things were different.”

You take a moment to answer. At this point, there’s nothing left to lose.

“I think I’ll always want you, Jake. No matter how much I try not to.”

“Can we…” He stops, takes a breath. You can practically see the gears turning as he tries to work out what to say. "Can we try?"

You stare at him, afraid you're reading into his words wrong.

"Try what?"

"Try again?" His words are small, quiet. He's not looking at you anymore and you suddenly wish you hadn't been so angry with him. "We can go slow. Like we're starting over."

You ponder his words for a long moment. There's so many thoughts running through your mind and you can barely grab hold of any of them.

“I don’t know, Jake. You really hurt me.”

He hung his head, his dark hair framing his face. Even now, you can’t help but to admire him.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He says, before finally bringing his eyes to yours. There are tears there, and your heart aches at the sight. “I was jealous. I really thought you were interested in Josh.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me? Instead of assuming and then treating me so horribly?”

“Because… because I can’t compete with someone like Josh, anyway. Didn’t think there was a point.” He shifts where he’s seated next to you and turns his eyes down to the floor. You don’t say anything, afraid to scare him back behind his walls. “We may be twins, but he’s got all the charm.”

“Jake,” you say quietly, “look at me.”

He does, slowly turning his brown eyes to you.

“This isn’t a competition. I only ever wanted you.” You tell him, and he can see that there’s no lie in your words. “And even if it was a competition, I still would have chosen you, Jake.”

“So I’m just a fucking idiot, then.” He says, and this time the anger in his voice is directed at himself.

You giggle.

“A little bit, ya. But I still want you, Jake. Despite trying so hard not to.”

“Let me show you I can be different. Please. Let me make it up to you.” He pleads, but you already know that you’d have let him do anything he wanted. Despite everything, you’d still fallen for him. And now here you are, with the chance to finally have him after months of thinking it was impossible.

“Okay.” You breathe out. “Okay, Jake.”

Faster than you can blink, his lips are on yours – soft and warm. You gasp, and Jake takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. His hands grip your shoulders tightly – like if he lets go you’ll run away. You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks as you kiss him back. The kiss is desperate, needy. All those months of want finally spilling over into this moment. You whimper quietly into his mouth and he pulls away. His eyes are blown wide with need and there’s an almost feral look to his face – his eyes are practically devouring you.

“I’m not making love to you for the first time on a shitty break room couch.” He says breathlessly and you quirk your eyebrow at his choice of words. He flushes but you let it slide, instead rising to your feet.

“Hotel?” You extend your hand to him and he laces his fingers with yours, allowing you to pull him to his feet.

“Yep. Yeah. Just quickly.” He shifts on his feet and you laugh as you realize that he’s painfully hard and trying to figure out how to walk normally.

Hands still clasped together, the two of you practically sprint towards the back exit of the venue. It’s mostly empty now, with everyone else having cleared out as soon as possible after the show ended. The two of you make it all the way to the back foyer without anyone seeing you.

But in your haste to get out, you almost don’t see Sam and Danny standing there gawking as they watch you drag Jake towards the door.

You stop short upon seeing them, causing Jake to bump into you from behind. You both look like deer caught in headlights or like little kids who have just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Um.” You say eloquently and Jake snickers from behind you.

“Alright, you boys ready to g-” Josh turns a corner, and stops in his tracks too. You watch as his eyes sweep from yours and Jake’s flushed faces to your hands that are still interlocked.

“Howdy, guys,” Jake finally pipes up from behind you. “Fancy seeing you all here.”

They all nod to the two of you, and each of their faces are filled with complete shock. You’re so embarrassed you wish the floor would swallow you whole.

“We’re um… heading out.” Jake says and you want to facepalm at his lack of imagination in coming up with some sort of excuse.

“And I’m sure it’s totally not what it looks like, right?” Josh asks with a shit eating grin and a raised eyebrow.

“What exactly does it look like, Joshua?” Jake snaps, eyes blazing at his twin.

“Oh nothing.” He shrugs, lifting his hands up in defense. “Right?” He turns to look at Danny and Sam who are still standing there with their mouths open.

It’s Danny that manages to fix his face first.

“Oh, yeah. Doesn’t look like anything to me.” He says with a smile, and you can practically see the teasing that he’s going to give you after this.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like you’re going to have sex at all.” Sam says, the little brother shittiness finally coming out.

“Oh fuck off, all of you. We’re leaving.” You start to walk again, yanking Jake’s hand so he follows you.

“You guys have fun not fucking each other!” Josh calls as you and Jake step out onto the street. Jake just shoots him the bird the two of you take off, giggling like kids.

The hotel you’re staying at isn’t far, just over a block away from the venue. But it feels like it takes ten years for you to make it to the lobby, and Jake doesn’t once let go of your hand.

The walk to the elevator is silent, and your mind is working a mile a minute. Your heart is racing and you feel like you’re in a dream. Out of the corner of your eye, Jake stares resolutely ahead, watching as the little screen above the elevator doors counts each floor.

Finally, they open on your floor and you pull Jake towards your room.

“Hold on… key card.” You say, extracting your hand from Jake’s to reach into your purse. You swipe the key card and open the door, hesitating only a moment before stepping over the threshold. The reality of what you came here for sets in suddenly, and you stand frozen in the middle of the room as you watch Jake shut the door behind him.

“You okay?” He asks, walking towards where you’re standing, stopping just close enough that if you wanted, you could reach out and touch him.

“I don’t know.” Your admission is quiet, spoken to the floor and not really to him. You don’t know how to feel.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, his own voice soft. “We don’t… we don’t have to do anything, y/n. I wasn’t expecting,” he waves his hands between the two of you vaguely, “this. Like at all.”

“Me neither. I don’t- I don’t know how to feel, Jake.”

He sighs and wrings his hands together. You stare at them, remembering that you now know what they feel like in your hand. Calloused, rough – but still gentle somehow.

“I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” Jake asks. You don’t answer.

“I never meant for things to get as far as they did.” He continues, walking over to sit heavily onto your bed. “I was jealous and I acted like an asshole to you.”

“Yeah, you did. But I was annoying, too. I should have just left you alone.” You say softly. “I shouldn’t have tried so hard.”

Jake shakes his head at you slowly, his soft hair – finally dry, swishes across his shoulders.

“You weren’t annoying. You were just being nice. You have nothing to apologize for. Come sit?”

You comply, sitting down next to him – making sure to leave some space between the two of you.

“You know, I heard you talking to Danny that night after my guitar string snapped.”

You turn to him sharply, brain racing trying to remember if you had said anything embarrassing.

“You stayed in that night because I’d had a bad night and you thought you would make it worse…”

You nod.

“You were so angry. I didn’t want to cause another fight.”

“I did get angrier, though. I was angry at myself for making you think that I hated you. But I didn’t know how to fix it.” He looks away and you take the opportunity to watch him. There was only one lamp on, and it cast shadows across his jaw. “Let me fix it. Please.”

You sit there for a long moment and just think. You let yourself feel the hurt and the anger. You think about every rude word or dismissive glare. You think about that night at the bar when you screamed at each other. You think of earlier in that break room. You think about all of it before finally turning to him.

“There’s nothing to fix, Jake. I forgive you.”

His eyes widen comically at you and his jaw drops open.

“What?”

“I forgive you.” You say simply, shrugging your shoulders. “I fell for you a long time ago, Jake. And those feelings aren’t going to go away – believe me, I’ve tried.”

He huffs a laugh.

“But I’m tired of this animosity between us.” You continue, pinning his gaze under your own. “I just want to be with you. No more arguing, no trying to make up for what’s already happened. Let’s just… be.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He admits, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Yes, you do. So let’s let it go.”

“Okay.”

You squeeze his hand in yours. He squeezes back.

“Now would you please kiss me already.”

Finally, a real smile spreads across Jake’s lips and his eyes sparkle at you.

“Of course.”

His lips crash into yours for the second time and it’s even better than the first. There’s no uncertainty now. It’s just you and him. You lean back, grasping his shoulders to follow you down. He pulls away slightly as your weight settles and he smiles.

“Eager?”

You don’t glorify his question with a response – instead sealing your lips over his again. He groans into your mouth as you hook your legs around his waist, bringing your core flush against his hardening cock.

Jake sits up and you scoot further into the middle of the bed, sitting up for a moment to rid yourself of your shirt. Jake does the same, unbuttoning his top with shaky fingers and tossing it to the floor. He taps your hips, signaling for you to lift them up. He slides your pants off you and you kick them off. Jake follows suit, leaving the two of you in nothing but your undergarments.

Jake looks down at you and you watch as his eyes rake over your form, pupils blown wide.

“Look at you.” He whispers and your core pulses at the sound of his voice – husky and low, laced with desire.

He’s a sight to behold all on his own and you allow yourself to stare – taking in every bit of skin that you’re finally getting to see.

“Look at you.” You say and he smiles down at you, eyes growing softer for a moment.

“Don’t do that.” You whisper, grasping his shoulders to pull him down to you. His face is inches above your own and you can feel his heavy breaths against your face. “Don’t feel guilty. Just be here. With me.”

He nods and attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your throat. He sucks and licks as he goes, causing the wetness in your panties to grow even more. You slide your palms up his strong back, feeling the muscles ripple underneath your fingertips. His cock is hard where you can feel it against you, and you press your hips up into him slowly. He moans loudly against the hollow of your throat.

“Fuck, y/n.”

He reaches beneath you and unhooks your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out for him to admire. He bites your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth and you whine, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging.

“Jake.” You moan, rolling your hips up to meet his – desperate for any bit of friction. Jake senses your need and dips his fingers into your panties and slides his finger between your folds, relishing in the wetness that’s gathered there.

“So wet for me, pretty girl.” He says, before bringing his finger to his lips to suck your juices off his fingers. “Tastes so fucking sweet.”

“Stop teasing me, Jake.” You whine, pawing at his cock where it tents his boxers. You slip your fingers beneath the waistband and pull them down and Jake lifts his hips so you can slide them all the way off. Jake yanks your panties down as well and you hiss as the cold air of the hotel room hits your hot center. Your pussy throbs and you press your thighs together.

“Don’t.” Jake says, and he presses your knees back apart. He gives you one last devilish grin before diving into your folds, lapping at the wetness and circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh fuck!” You cry as you throw your head back in pleasure. He swirls your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before attaching his lips to suckle at it mercilessly. You moan loudly, and you’d probably feel sorry for whoever was in the room next to yours if you weren’t so focused on the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“You taste so good, angel. Can’t believe I let my own jealousy keep me from tasting you sooner.”

You whine as he pushes one finger inside of you, curling it inside of you in the most delicious way. The coil in your belly begins to tighten, and you know it won’t be long before it snaps.

“Fuck, right there. Jesus.” You moan as he adds another finger and Jake chuckles. The vibration against your clit makes you jump, so he presses his forearm across your hips – effectively keeping you in place. “Jake I’m gonna cum.” You warn and he only picks up the pace of his fingers, fucking into you relentlessly as he continues lapping at your clit.

“Give it to me, sweet girl.” He says against your core and that’s all it takes. Your orgasm rips through you and you whine his name as he laps up your release. He pulls his fingers from you and licks them, groaning as he tastes you.

“Fuck, y/n. You look divine, all spread out for me like this.”

“Only for you.” You say, still trying to get your breathing under control. You sit up and stare at him. His cock is rock hard and weeping, standing at full attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him.

“Lemme taste you, Jake.” You say as you reach your hand towards his length. He grabs your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“As much as I’d love for you to, I’m not gonna last if you do that. Next time.” He promises, releasing your wrist. “But tonight I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” He glances around suddenly, eyes searching for something.

“What?” You ask, rising to lean on your elbows.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms around here, do you?”

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.”

He pins you with a heated stare.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. Want you to fill me up, Jake.”

He groans at your words and brings his hand up to pump his cock. His chest is flushed and sweat is gathering at his temples.

“Fucking hell. Okay.”

You spread your legs and Jake glides the head of his cock through your folds, gathering the wetness before slowly sliding into you. You both moan at the feeling of him sinking into your pussy. He bottoms out and pauses, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of him.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight." He growls, brows pinched together as he tries to hold back from moving.

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me. Move.” You whine, pushing your hips into his. He complies, pulling out of you almost completely before slamming back into you. He sets a hard pace – the force of each thrust pushing you upwards, making your tits bounce as he rails into you. His eyes are transfixed on them as they bounce up and down, and you rake your nails down his back. You wrap your legs around him and press your heels into his ass, drawing him in closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans.

“God, Jake. Right there.” You cry, clenching your eyes closed. “Harder! Fuck!”

Jake grabs your calf tightly with his right hand, throwing it over his shoulder. He then plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the tip of his cock hitting that special place inside of you with each thrust. You wail as he pistons his hips into yours and little breathy moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes screw shut and his hair is damp as he fucks you better than anyone ever has. You clench around him and he groans loudly, sweat dripping down his chest as he opens his eyes to watch your face as the pleasure takes you over.

“You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.” He says, thrusts growing more desperate as his own release quickly begins to approach. He slides one hand between the two of you, circling your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Jacob!” You scream, as your second climax washes over you, sending white hot pleasure coursing throughout your entire body. It seems to keep going forever, and your legs shake and your body twitches as he keeps fucking you through it.

“Fuck, say that again.” He says through clenched teeth, thrusts growing erratic and sloppy.

“Jacob.” You say, and this time it comes out as a needy whine.

“Fuck, fuck. Shit!” He growls as his mouth drops open. His own orgasm finally arrives and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he paints your walls with his release. He thrusts into you deeply once, twice, three more times before collapsing onto you.

“Jesus.” You say, closing your eyes as you fight to get your heart rate back down to a reasonable pace.

“Yeah.” He pulls his cock from you and your pussy clenches at the loss of him. “Hold on.” He reaches down towards the foot of the bed where his boxers lay. He cleans you both up before throwing them down onto the floor. He reaches across to the nightstand and flicks the light off.

He collapses onto his back and you roll onto your side to face him. The two of you stare at each other in the dark.

“Do you believe me now when I say all is forgiven?” You ask him, smiling as you take in his fucked out expression.

“Yeah, I guess.” He says, smiling back at you. “I’m still gonna keep telling you though – I’m so fucking sorry.”

You reach up and cup his face between your palms, bringing him close to you so you can press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“And I’ll keep telling you that it’s okay.” You say against his plush lips. “I’ll always choose you.”

He searches your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.”

He pulls you in tight to his chest, and you can feel his steady heartbeat as you nuzzle into his skin. You toss one leg over him, pulling him even tighter against you.

“Does this mean you’ll come back for the next tour?” He asks, face buried in your hair.

You giggle.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

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

Taglist:

@sacredthethreadgvf

#dee's writing #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic

380 notes · View notes

she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 month

Text

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, violence, dehumanisation, kidnapping references, imprisonment references, trafficking references, implies sa references, blood and wounds, drowning/fear of drowning, death references, murder references, threats, spiders (a nightmare that involves a venomous one)

AO3 links

Chapter 53 - Nina

It was almost dawn by the time Nina reached the White Rose, and all she really wanted was a long bath to scrub this entire night off her. It seemed she was going to have to settle for sleeping first, however, and bathing later because the only bathroom in the place with an actual tub was occupied when she returned. There were two indoor bathrooms at the White Rose; the other had a shower that Nina wasn’t a fan of anyway, far less so because the building had no running water. She wouldn’t complain about sleeping, though, not a chance of that; as soon as she’d made contact with her settee she was drifting straight into slumber - and straight into unwelcome dreams.

She was back on the ship, all those endless, terrible nights travelling from the Wandering Isle to Fjerda. Nina wasn’t even supposed to be there, not really, she was too young for such missions. But the Ravkan Second Army had been almost decimated by the Civil War; they needed soldiers, and, oh, how Nina had begged to be one of them. She’d travelled to the Wandering Isle with a small group, the only one she knew beyond in passing being Zoya Nazyelensky, in hopes of rescuing and recruiting more Grisha to join their cause. Nina had been alone when she stumbled headfirst into that Drüskelle camp, and out of any identifying uniform. She did not scream, she pleaded with them in Kaelish instead of Ravkan, not once did she cry out for help. She was terrified, yes, but she was more scared still to expose her team and their mission, of putting Zoya and all the rest of them in danger. She was bound captive on a boat headed to Fjerda, to the impenetrable fortress of the Ice Court where she knew she would be put on trial and then quickly afterwards put to death. Simply for existing. The boat had been horrendous, cages full of terrified men and women, beaten and bloodied beyond recognition, going days at a time without food or water, no way of washing and nowhere to relieve themselves, hands bound so tightly that Nina was left with horrible wounds on her wrists that she’d had to use her Grisha power to repair, and yet there was a strange, small part of her across the entire journey that had not wanted it to end. Because she knew that whatever lay on the other side of these weeks was going to be infinitely worse.

They’d almost reached Fjerda when the storm hit, and Matthias accidentally saved Nina’s life.

The dreamworld’s version of the ship was warped and changed before her eyes, but she knew instinctively to be in the same place. She was on the floor, her hands bound, the tall bars of an iron cage extending high above her head - impossibly high; elongated by the dream. There were no other captives here, so different from the cramped reality, but Nina was not alone. She was staring at a pair of boots, and before she’d even lifted her head she knew that it was Matthias who stood over her. He looked the same. He looked impossibly changed.

“Nina Zenik,” his voice was cold.

What did he intend to do? Apologise, demand apologies from her? Offer forgiveness, or pass sentence and carry it out? Did he intend to be her judge, jury, and executioner? She would never know. He moved as though to kneel before her and the scene melted in time with his step, changed its course to something new; the bars stood between them now, Nina was on her feet and even though he was left invisible by shadows she knew that Matthias was somewhere ahead of her. Was he the prisoner now, or her again? It was impossible to tell; each of them were surrounded by nothing but grey walls of stone, the bars stark and cold before their faces.

She tried to tentatively call his name, but when she parted her lips a spider, almost as big as her own nose, crawled off her tongue and began to climb its way out of her mouth and up her face. Nina screamed, trying to brush the thing away as its thin, spindly legs found purchase in her flesh, and it was thrown by her hand straight through the bars in front of her. Breaths careened through her chest like runaway horses unmatched too soon from their carts as she stumbled backwards and tried to rebalance her footing.

A hand stretched from the darkness and landed heavily on one of the bars, gripping it so tightly the metal might have warped beneath the fingers, and after a moment longer Matthias pulled himself forwards and into view. Nina gasped, rushing forward to him; their hands met between the iron, their fingers intertwined, their foreheads could almost touch.

“Matthias…” she whispered, too many emotions to list imbued upon her tongue.

“Nina,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across the skin of her hand almost rhythmically, soft and comforting, “Röedfetler,”

Little red bird.

“I’m here,” she nodded, pressing her thumb into his palm, “We’re… I’m here,”

She closed her eyes, tears that she both could and could not explain pouring onto her cheeks, an impossible weight collapsing into air inside her chest as though it had never existed in the first place. But then his grip was tightening, panic seized Nina as her eyes flew open and she saw the spider upon the bare skin of Matthias’ neck. It had bitten him; his flesh swelled in an instant, red and pulsating with hot anger. His grip had moved to her wrists now, tighter than she could stand, pinning her in place. She could imagine the bones snapping beneath his fingers with relative ease.

“Matthias-”

The redness of the bite was spreading; his entire form was overcome by the furious fire.

“What have you done?” he snarled, speaking Fjerdan, “What did you do to me?”

The swelling in his neck flared and his hold on her dropped away as he greyed into the hazy edges of the dream, keeling over and vanishing into nothingness. She screamed his name, scrabbled against the ground before the bars, tried to reach through them to find where surely he must be lying in the darkness, he had to be, he had to be, he had to be. Water began to rise from the floor, the room rocked and swayed. It was getting higher by the second, thrown this way and that by the rocking of what had transformed around her from a prison cell to the lower decks of a boat, threatening to rise above Nina’s neck. But she could not stop, could not move, could not stand; she continued to reach madly through the emptiness in front of her, where the bars had been was now empty but for the flood but still she could not find him. The pressure grew against her chest. The boat jolted; Nina was thrown across the space to careen into a wall and now the water was almost at her nose - when had it gotten so high. As she slipped beneath the surface, thrashing madly to try to move, try to swim, try to find a place that she could breathe, bonds began to weave themselves slowly around her wrists. No, no, no. Nina kicked her feet as best she could but now there was something tightening around her ankles as well. The boat jolted once more, the water sloshed, and Nina felt any distant dream of air, of Matthias, of breathing, to be a very childish fantasy.

Matthias was gone. And Nina was drowning.

Shipwreck.

She was thrown from the dream with a harsh crack, almost falling off her settee, a pounding in her head so loud it felt the walls were shaking. Wait, no… no, there was something banging here, in the world as well as inside Nina’s mind. She steadied herself, trying to shake her brain back into attention, and realised that someone was knocking on the door.

“Nina?”

“I- yeah, come in!”

The door creaked slightly as Siobhan pushed it open, a long dressing gown draped over her and tied tightly at her waist, her red hair wet and straggling over one shoulder. She looked at Nina for a moment, a small furrow forming between her brows.

“Are you okay?”

Nina tried to smile, pulling the scattered pieces of herself back into a shivering, temperamental whole that was sure to shatter in the next firm breeze that shook it as she stood to properly greet Siobhan.

“I’m fine,” she managed, though by the look on the other girl’s face not very convincingly, “Thank you,”

Siobhan nodded slowly, a little uncertain, a hand drifting up towards the damp locks of her hair. There was a small towel thrown over shoulder to keep the wet off her white, flighty gown and she began to fidget distractedly with its embroidered edge. Both the towel and the dressing gown were lightly imbued with a swirling pattern of roses along their edges.

“Right,” she nodded, clearly not entirely believing her, “Well, I just came to let you know I was finished in the bathroom. You can go straight in, Petra brought in plenty of water; she said she’d start heating some more,”

Nina managed to smile and murmur her thanks, turning to the little wardrobe to find her own towels. She was only slightly surprised when she turned to see that Siobhan was still standing there; she was expecting her to be there in that she hadn’t heard he leave, but she wasn’t sure what she was waiting for.

“Did you-?” she broke off, then tired again with: “I mean… that girl that they’re looking for, the one who broke her contract with the Willow Switch…”

Nina felt herself tense involuntarily, and hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

“It was her, wasn’t it, that you asked me about?”

“Asked you about?” Nina frowned.

“A little before the arrest warrant came out,” Siobhan had now moved on to fidgeting with her sleeve, her neatly manicured fingers almost digging straight through the weave of the fabric, “you asked me if I knew of a girl at the Willow Switch and I’ve been thinking about it and I’m sure… I’m sure you said Jeluna Kir-Mai,”

Nina opened her mouth, closed it again. Shit. What was she supposed to say now?

“You did, didn’t you?” Siobhan’s eyes scanned over her, studying her intently for every non-verbal response Nina was trying so hard to restrain, “I didn’t misremember? It was her?”

“Siobhan-”

Nina tried to step forwards and Siobhan took a frightened pace away from her.

“Is she like the others?” she whispered, backing gradually towards the half-open door, “Like the Leopard? Amethyst?”

“No - well, no Siobhan, look - I can explain-”

“Oh Saints,” she’d found the door handle behind her, was trying to slowly manoeuvre her way into the hallway without taking her eyes off Nina, “Oh, Saints, Nina, it’s not true? Please say it’s not true. You didn’t… you didn’t…”

“No, Siobhan, I swear I didn’t do anything, I-”

“You knew,” she shook her head, still trying to find her way out of Nina’s room without turning, “You knew that she would… She didn’t run, did she? Did you tell them something? She… They… What did you do?”

Nina stepped forwards, arm raised in hopes of closing the door before Siobhan’s voice got any louder, and the girl released a strained yelp as she stumbled away from her.

“Siobhan - I’m sorry - please, just listen-”

She turned and ran.

In retrospect, chasing Siobhan through the White Rose into her own room and slamming the door shut behind her was probably not the best call, but in the moment Nina couldn’t think of anything else to do short of knocking her unconscious.

Siobhan backed away into the farthest corner of the room, bumping up against her vanity, staring at Nina like a lost rabbit facing down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. She looked like she was very much regretting asking the question.

“Nina, please-”

“You tell no-one this,” she hissed, which again in retrospect may not have been the most sensible thing to say, “You hear me? Not a single word,”

Siobhan nodded, over and over, so quickly it looked like her head was going to drop right off her shoulders. Nina watched her, walking slowly farther into the room as she ran her hand along the wall that ran alongside the corridor. She was looking for the peepholes. She knew there must be at least one; she needed to stopper it.

“Someone took her, okay? I had nothing to do with her first going missing, and I had nothing to do with Tara or Amethyst, alright? I promise you that. I don't know who it was, I don’t know what they did, but someone kidnapped Jeluna before that arrest warrant went out and they messed with her head. She doesn’t even remember anything. I found her in the Barrel a few days before the warrant went out, and I tried to keep her safe. I swear to you, I am just trying to keep her safe,”

“How… how did you know that she was gone? Before the warrant?”

Nina took a very slow breath. At least she was talking to her, at least she wasn’t running to find Feliks. She stood up a little straighter, no longer half collapsed against her little vanity, but her eyes were still wary.

“You know I work for Brekker?”

Siobhan nodded.

“After what happened to Tara - the Leopard - and Amethyst, I was worried. I asked him to keep tabs on things, and he told me that something was going on at the Willow Switch so I went to try and find out what was going on,” a slight stretch of the truth, but just barely, and a believable one, “One of the girls there, Kheja, told me that Jeluna was in danger,”

Nina had since been back to the Willow Switch twice, very briefly, with a note up her sleeve in search of Kheja, but she was yet to find her. Yet to pass on the very simple message, written on a curled up scrap of paper in mostly neat Shu characters:

“I found her”

She needed Kheja to know that Jeluna was alive, that she was about as safe as Nina could get her, but after two unsuccessful visits had begun to feel concern sparking inside her for Kheja as well. She was just busy. She must have been. She’ll be back in the foyer eventually.

But right now she had a more immediate problem at hand. Siobhan still looked nervous, and not entirely convinced. Would she go to Feliks, if she suspected Nina was involved with or maybe working for whoever orchestrated these kidnappings? Would she try to send word to the stadwatch? And in that case, had Nina royally fucked up by bringing Kaz and the Dregs into things?

“And Dirtyhands just did you a favour?” she asked, incredulous, “Am I supposed to believe he’s keeping her safe somewhere as well?”

“I paid him,”

There was a brief pause.

“I don’t not believe you…” Siobhan managed, her voice trailing and rising and drifting away like it was on a hike through a rocky mountain range, “You know you shouldn’t have gone to him, though? You shouldn’t get people like him messed up with girls like her. He won’t keep her unless he finds a use for her,”

Nina had nothing to say in response. Had those not been her exact concerns? Was that not the very reason she’d offered to add Jeluna’s debt onto her own? Kaz still hadn’t spoken to her about arranging that.

“Do you think it was the same person? Who took Tara and Amethyst as well?”

“Yes,”

There were no two ways about that. Siobhan deserved the truth, anyway, or at least the closest approximation of it that Nina was able to give.

“Is that why they’ve stopped? Because she ran?”

Nina hesitated.

“I don’t know if they’ve stopped completely,” she said slowly, “and I don’t know how Jeluna got away. But it’s possible that they’re waiting until they hear about Jeluna, to find out if she’s told anyone what happened to her. I don’t… I don’t think that the threat’s over,”

Siobhan snorted a laugh, taking Nina by surprise, and flopped down onto her mattress as she said:

“The threat’s never over, Nina. It just takes different forms,”

A moment passed as Nina tried to figure out what to say. Siobhan kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up onto the bed, tucking them beneath her and picking up a throw pillow to clutch over her lap.

“You’re not lying to me are you?”

Nina shook her head.

“You swear it?”

“On my life. I have only tried to keep Jeluna safe,”

“Has… has Brekker told you about anything going on anywhere else?”

Nina swallowed. She stepped forwards and gestured questioningly towards the space next to Siobhan on the side of the mattress, who gave a casual wave of permission for Nina to sit down.

The room looked much like Nina’s, a square space with the same white walls, the same eaves, the same flowers on the table, but where the table was at the centre in Nina’s room Siobhan’s was pushed towards the near wall, displaying a tea tray surely to gaudy to actually be useable and only one slender white stool instead of proper chairs. At the centre of the room was the bed, its headboard pressed against the back wall, its white sheets arranged pristinely, usually with a rose-shaped throw cushion lying neatly in between the pillows but that was now sitting on Siobhan’s lap. The smell of the rose perfume was stronger here than in Nina’s room, and she noted the flowers studding the vanity and wardrobe. She also knew that, when in costume, Siobhan often wore the white roses in her hair.

“There was a girl who went missing before Tara did,” she said, trying to keep her voice gentle, “who he told me about when I brought this up to him. I don’t know if it’s connected, but it might be. She vanished from one of the smaller houses, farther South, and was found dead not long after,”

Siobhan nodded very slowly, not looking up to meet Nina’s eye.

“I haven’t heard of anyone going missing since Jeluna,” she said, “When I asked you about her I only suspected something had happened, and was wondering if you might recognise her name. I was also having a shit day and I didn’t put a lot of thought into it, but-”

“Van Eck,” said Siobhan, as though she’d found sudden understanding.

Nina frowned. That was exactly it. She’d had an awful time in court and then had Jesper walk her to and from the Geldstraat in wonderful timing for her to see just how much of a skiv Jan Van Eck was first hand.

“I - sorry?”

“It was when you went to see Councilman Van Eck,” she said, “It put you in an awful mood; you had a go at Feliks,”

Nina nodded.

“You know that put him in an awful mood?” Siobhan watched her for a moment, like she was trying to read something written in between Nina’s eyes in a tiny script, before she said, “I heard Van Eck asked you to go back,”

“Yeah, tonight…” Nina frowned, “I didn’t go,”

Siobhan started to say something that might have been “good” but then caught herself, and instead:

“There’s rumours, you know? About the Councilmen,”

“Van Eck?”

Siobhan nodded.

“And a few others; I heard the name Hoede, from someone who works for him,”

“What…?” Nina swallowed, “What are the rumours?”

“Well, maybe they’re just nonsense but…” Siobhan shrugged, “they’re saying there’s this drug,”

10 notes · View notes

spectraspecs-writes · 4 months

Text

Manaan - Chapter 129

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 128. Chapter 130.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @darthvendar-blog @80strashbag thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

Roland Wann takes a moment before he looks up from his desk, I stand there for a moment before he looks up. “Ah, you’re back,” he say, “I was glad to hear your trial went well.” No thanks to you, buddy. “Have you managed to retrieve the data from our droid in the Sith base?”

“Yes,” I say, pulling the module from my pack, “here it is.”

“Excellent!” He takes the module and looks it over. “It does not appear to have been tampered with, so the Sith did not manage to copy its contents yet. And now for your information…” He looks around, then gestures and brings us into the Enclave. “We are not supposed to speak of this, but since you are a Jedi, and we have exhausted all the other options, I think I can entrust you with this.

“As you know, the Republic is fighting for its very existence against the evil of the Sith Empire. As you also undoubtedly know, we are doing very poorly. We need much in the way of supplies and material to stem the tide of battle and bring us victory.” I’m not sure I like where this is going. “Manaan is the sole source of kolto, the most powerful medical substance in the galaxy. Frankly, we need as much of it as we can get.”

“What has the Republic done?” Carth asks.

“The Selkath conservatives with their neutrality treaties seek to treat the Sith and the Republic equally. This includes kolto exports. But a few more far-sighted Selkath see that if the Sith are ever allowed to win, the galaxy will be plunged into darkness and there would be nothing to stop them from taking Manaan anyway. So we made a deal…”

“You violated the treaty?!?” explodes out of my mouth.

“Shh!” Wann urges, “Not so loud! Yes, it is a technical violation of the treaty, but it is sanctioned by elements of the Selkath government. We need only keep it hidden from the Sith.”

“This is incredibly dangerous,” I say, “If the Sith found out or the rest of the government got wind of this…”

“I know,” Wann says with a heavy sigh, “but to the senators, it seemed to outweigh the risks. We recently began construction of a secret underground facility to harvest kolto directly at its source. We also hope to one day be able to synthesize it effectively. Current techniques are insufficient for the task, so we must mine it for now. The amount we take would hardly be noticed, since most is lost naturally before it reaches the surface anyway. We were nearing completion of the base when the digging teams reported some sort of obstruction... an ancient building or artifact. Possibly your 'Star Map.'” Sounds like it to me. “Transmissions from the base were cut off abruptly after that, and we haven't heard from the station since.”

That’s odd - construction crews, especially underwater, would have to keep near-constant contact with the surface for safety. “What happened down there?”

He sighs a heavy sigh. “We don’t know. We just don’t know.”

“And you haven’t investigated?” Carth asks.

“As you may have noticed, we are hiring a lot of mercenaries around here. Ostensibly they're to be shipped off-world to aid in our fight against the Sith, but they are really for another purpose. When we lost contact with the station in the Hrakert Rift, we sent our contingent of Republic soldiers down to investigate. None returned.” Yikes. “We have tried hiring mercenaries and sending them down as well” - well, that answers that question - “but none of those expeditions have returned either. The reason we really sent that droid underwater - and the reason we needed its data back so badly - was to find out what had happened to the Hrakert Rift station. But now that we have the data back, our operation is in no danger of exposure to the Sith. And now I must live up to my end of the bargain.”

Well, gee, so I have to go into a place that no one has returned from to get this thing? That’s… actually par for the course, I don’t know why I’m pissed. “How will we get down there?”

“I took the liberty of having a submarine prepared for your departure. Merely use this card” - which he hands me - “to get past the door behind our kolto packing room and enter the sub therein. It has been programmed to take you down to the station, and also to take you back up should you need something. I would send soldiers to assist you, but we have lost many of ours, and nearly exhausted the mercenary population of this planet. The soldiers we have are barely enough to keep this base secure! The Sith have also noted our interest and begun to bribe mercenaries away from us, as you noticed. Please, find out what happened to the facility. There may be some survivors left down there, perhaps even the head scientist - Kono Nolan.” He reaches out to shake my hand. I politely take it. “Good luck in your efforts.”

The three of us walk to the submersible bay and climb in. With the push of a button, the sub closes and begins to descend. My nerves all but vanish as the water rises up above us. This is the perfect chance to observe the ecosystem here, up close. Selkath culture views this ocean as the birthplace of all life on the planet. They’re still semi-aquatic themselves - everything about the species is clearly designed to be as aerodynamic as possible through the water, rather than on dry land. And a planet that’s entirely oceanic is rare - the adaptations in the aquatic animals and plants are sure to be unique. And to add the kolto on top of that - kolto is unique to Manaan. Its potential effects on the evolution of life on this planet hasn’t been thoroughly studied, certainly not in the field. Despite the voice in my head that constantly reminds me that none of my experiences as a scout, none of what I know, is real, all I feel right now is the sense that this is what I was meant to do, where I was meant to be.

But tragically, and too soon, the voyage is over, and we emerge inside the underwater facility. The hatch pops open. While the design clearly matches the base we just left, none of the activity or idle noise is present. The only sound is the occasional drip of water. It’s dark, a little spooky. I really don’t like that drip, it makes me think the walls aren’t watertight. The other side of the submersible bay has a wrecked craft over there. What down here is strong enough to destroy a submersible and can breathe the oxygen atmosphere? A firaxan shark could do it, at least in a group. Even just one could do a lot of damage. But the damage I see came from the top, from within the facility, not from the water. Whatever it is that did this damage came from inside the base. It’s probably the same thing that stopped anyone from contacting the surface. The air is salty, but there’s still the unmistakable smell of fresh death. And it’s not a fishy smell. These aren’t dead Selkath.

There’s only so much I can learn standing here and honestly I’m just scaring myself. I start towards the closest door. It opens to a hallway, and at the end of that hall is a chamber with a Twi’lek in it. Someone alive! The closer we get, I can hear him muttering to himself, crazed. He’s pacing back and forth in the round chamber. Just before the chamber, he hears us, and draws his blaster. Then, “You’re not Selkath!” He lowers it and rushes towards us, grabbing my shoulders. “How-- how did you get in? Did they send another submersible? Quick, we have to get out of here, we have to get away!”

“Whoa, calm down!” I push his arms away. “Get away from what?”

“No! No!” he shakes his head, “We have no time, we have to leave now! I managed to close the door after they killed everyone else, but I don't know how long it will hold.”

“Who’s ‘they’? What happened?”

“The Selkath, they went crazy!” he says, “They started killing anything that moved. Someone must have triggered the defense systems too, 'cause all the droids activated as well.” No wonder this place looks so demolished. “I was one of the mercs the Republic sent down here to find out what happened. We came down and secured the first couple rooms…” He starts to lose his breath. Like he wants to cry but doesn’t have enough water. “...there were bodies everywhere… And the Selkath came out… screaming and croaking their fishy little war-cries.”

“The Selkath?” Carth repeats in disbelief.

The Twi’lek mercenary nods. “They swarmed out and over us,” he says, “There was no way we could stop them. So we ran... But hardly any of us made it. I locked the door behind us, bu... but the others had already left in the submersible!” And left you? That’s cold. “The sharks... the firaxa out there and... worse... I heard an explosion shortly after the submersible left. They didn't make it. Just food for the sharks and the Selkath... like us.”

“Come with us,” Juhani says, “We will take you back to the surface in our submersible.” Right, get this guy somewhere safe.

He relaxes a bit. “Back to the surface, yes,” he says, “Yes… No!” He stops. “There's something out there... it got the other submersible already.”

“Then how are we supposed to get you out of here?” Carth asks.

The Twi’lek shakes her head forcefully. His lekku shake. “We can't leave until you do something. Blow up the entire station maybe.” No. “That might distract whatever it is long enough for us to escape to the surface. But all the machinery and stuff is in the southern half, and that's been flooded! There might still be environmental suits around but... but... the Selkath might have laid their eggs in them!”

“That’s not how fish eggs work,” I find myself saying before I’m even aware of it, “They lack a hard shell so eggs laid on dry land would suffer immediate desiccation.”

“What are you talking about?!” he shouts.

“Forget it,” I say, “I have to get into the station.” I move to step around him.

“No!” He steps back in front of me. “I locked the door so that the Selkath won't get in. If you open it, we're all done for!”

“I’m sorry,” I say, “I have to.”

“If you go in there, you're dead! You're all dead!” We don’t budge. Neither does he. Finally he grumbles, “Fine! If you want to die, then go! You won't hear me mourning for you! I'll stay here and be safe until some sort of REAL rescue comes! But if you're going to go in there, do it quickly! I'll shut the door behind you... but don't expect me to open it again!”

True to his word, he shoves us through the door into the base and locks the door behind us. I’m not particularly worried about a locked door. Anything he can lock, I can figure out how to unlock, and worst case scenario I’ll just destroy the door. There’s only one way to go, forward, to a single door at the end of a long hallway.

Through the door at the end of the hall, there’s a security panel. “Let me see if I can get anything off that,” I say, “hang on.” The card from Roland Wann gives me access and I download a map onto my datapad.

‘That mercenary said there was still staff in the south part of the base,” Juhani says, “Are you able to locate them?”

“Let me see…” A quick security scan for life signs should be easy enough, even at reduced power. That’s… that’s a lot more life signs than I expected. Based on these readings, the base is teeming with life. But that can’t be the case because this place is quiet. I wonder - can I filter these results to only endotherms? Let’s see… there we go.

Holy shit.

Including us, there are seven endotherms, seven non-Selkath in the entire base. Several sensors are offline, but that mercenary said that part of the base was flooded. So where I see offline sensors, that’s probably ocean, and if anyone’s there, they’re Selkath. And the Selkath went insane. “Not including us, there are two non-Selkath on this side of the base,” I say, “One of them is that mercenary, the other is staff.” That’s all I can get - there’s too many damaged systems. “There’s two more on the other side of the base, but there’s an ocean between us and them.”

“That’s where all the machinery is,” Carth says.

“I’m not blowing up the base,” I say.

“I know, but that can’t be the only option,” he says, “Something happened here and maybe the machinery had something to do with it.”

‘We’re not going to find out here, at any rate,” I say, ‘There’s too much damage to find any archived sensor information. Whatever happened, the main computer doesn’t have any record of it.”

“Let’s keep moving, then.”

“One last thing,” I say, “The merc said the defense system was activated. I want to switch them off before we run into anything.” Sentry droids, quite a few of them. I send a remote deactivation command, and they all tick offline. “Okay, we’re good to go.” Sign off. To the next door.

The other door opens to an even longer hallway, lined on one side floor to ceiling with windows. Light filters in from the windows, tinted green by the water. It’s not bright, but it supplements the already-dim station lighting. The view through them is unobstructed - good, I can get a sense of the damage, our surroundings.

And everything makes sense.

We’re in the reef… The kolto must… This habitat is so… The sharks probably… But the Republic…

“You’re mumbling,” Carth says suddenly. Was I saying all that out loud? “What do you see?”

“You don’t see that?” I say. No, I guess not. I run my finger along the glass, tracing the reef and its ridges. “This is prime marine habitat, look at all the firaxan sharks. This reef and its caves and crannies have probably been formed by centuries of erosion and sharks looking for creches to lay their eggs. This isn’t just a home, it’s a nursery. And the kolto is part of that. It’s healing for us, but as a part of their ecosystem, it must have a growth impact here in the ocean as well. Everything here has been shaped by millenia of this delicate balance. The rocks and minerals erode, releasing the kolto into the water, which helps the sharks grow, and they create more crevices, more erosion. And that’s not even considering the other species that call this reef home.”

Carth and Juhani look, but they don’t see it. Can’t see it, not quite. Aren’t used to thinking that way. “I am sure Selkath scientists already understood this,” Juhani says slowly, not quite understanding, ‘Sure they know where the kolto…”

“It’s not about the kolto, it’s about the eggs!” I say, “The construction impacts the nursery sites, you can see the change. The sharks reacted to the construction in defense of their home, their eggs. The vibrations through the water may have affected their communication, too, so not only were they being attacked, the world suddenly got so… loud.” I understand that. The confusion, the mixed signals, the uncertainty. The fear. The lashing out.

“That explains the sharks,” Carth says, “but what about the Selkath?”

I suck my teeth. “I’m not sure yet. They couldn’t have known this would happen when they authorized the Republic to build here - the ocean means too much to them to risk its destruction. But their response… I don’t know. There’s still a few pieces I’m missing. And I’m not going to get them in here.” I take a deep breath. “I’ll have to go out to the ocean floor.”

#kotor #knights of the old republic #star wars #star wars knights of the old republic #autistic artist #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #kotor fic #fiction #manaan #death mention tw #death tw #chapter 129 #carth onasi #juhani

5 notes · View notes

katastronoot · 3 months

Text

When a Quiet Heart Beats

Vampire oc (Raena) x Celann (Skyrim Dawnguard)

Prologue and Chapter 1

Words: 3,525

Content warning: Blood, violence, animal death

My first ongoing fic I’m posting here on tumblr. Yippeeee also fyi I haven’t played Skyrim in so long so if I spell things wrong sorry! I had to get Raena and Celann’s story out in words I hope you guys enjoy :3

Prologue

The cave was dark. He was used to it by now. The thick musty air that invaded his lungs nearly choked him with every breath. It was a minor hazard in his career. Much easier to dismiss than the looming darkness that surrounded him–the sharp beady eyes that shone through the pitch. Predatory glares that stalked his every foot step, every movement. To be on alert was a constant. The wrong move could result in his life, his companions lives, and then many more from there on.

These abominations were all the same…monsters.

His dagger rested heavy on his hip as he made hurried light strides through the tunnels of the cavern. A torch in hand, a bow strapped to his back and a quiver full of iron arrows were all he wielded. In his mind a dagger was quicker to draw and stab when his life depended on it while he used his heavily trained marksman skills to subdue his enemies from afar.

It was just so much harder to see them when they lived in the dark. But thankfully he had a solution to that.

The charcoal gray husky padded swiftly in front of him. His movements were mechanical. The pair of them have done this walk many times before. They were quite the team when fighting monsters and daedra. He trusted Reacher’s every step while the dog led their caravan including two other vigilants behind them.

Cobwebs and exsanguinated corpses lay at their feet. Celann almost stepped on a limb when his four footed lead went to a standstill. He made a gesture with his arms for the others to come forth. Their mage engulfed all forms with an invisibility spell before they continued forward into the vampires den.

To say it happened fast would be an understatement. He was no wizard nor spellcaster. When the charges of lightning magic came he was already collided into stone rubble. Clouds of smoke and dust hindered his vision while wails and screams echoed throughout the underground hideout.

His heart fell to his stomach when he heard it.

A high pitched whimper. Cries out for help in a way where words were not needed. He always made sure his second never got hurt. He always put his life first and now…now he failed him.

Celann pushed himself up on his knees. Fighting the pain that shot through his shoulder. He looked around in the dark, a single flame illuminated a corner where the dog lay in a puddle of crimson.

Please he prayed under his breath to his gods. Please give me the strength.

The fight echoed down the tunnels. There weren’t any more enemies in his sight. He pushed off onto his feet and crouched down to where Reacher lay below. He was still breathing, the wound in his side still wept. But the stone bookshelf that crushed his legs shot a knife through Celann’s heart. He knew he wouldn’t make it. He had to put him out of his misery but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

“Plea��please…”

A chill went up the vigilants spine as he heard a small voice from the adjacent room. Upon further inspection he realized the room was more of a closet. Small with limited storage, save for the iron cage that made most of the space. He gritted his teeth fighting through the tears that stained his cheeks, while he struggled to keep composure.

“Please…don't.” The woman repeated, “don’t come near.”

Celann picked up the single iron candle holder and held the flame closer to her voice. He approached cautiously until he felt his feet still. The golden light bounced off of shining yellowish green eyes. The kinds that glowed ominously in the dark.

Emotions were a storm as he became angry, angry about what these creatures had done to him. Furious at what they are making him lose. But that anger, he knew deep within his gut, was not directed by this creature that had been trapped away in torment. She had tears in her eyes as well. Hollowed cheeks and her withered dress fell from her malnourished frame. She was starved, mouth agape in predatory lust. Hungry for blood.

“Don’t come near me, leave!” she cried, “No more! No more!”

“Why are you in there?” He asked, “Wh–”

“Don’t! Please.”

He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts while Reacher still whimpered in the corner. Her eyes followed him as she shrunk to the back of the cage. He pitied her but why? She was a monster just like the rest of them…but something deep within, maybe a tiny voice in the back of his head told him that she was innocent.

Would saving another’s life while half of his perished in a corner make it all any better? Would it ease the burn over his heart?

The woman clutched the bars. Her skin was a mossy green that contrasted against the dark gray of the cave walls. Her hair was tousled in a mess of soft brown that matched the painted freckles upon her cheeks and nose. She would have been a beautiful elf, he thought, if it weren't for how sickly her condition looked.

“What caused this?” He asked quietly while a sharp high pitched ring made him wince. His head was pounding from his collision to the wall. He clutched it with his palm. “Who are you?”

She fell silent. Shaking her head and crying. Celann looked around the room to the vampiric corpse that lay by the entryway. He hobbled slowly and reached down to check the pockets. A few gold septims along with an iron key.

“Will this release you?”

The vigilant watched as the woman's eyes darted from the corpse to the door of the cavern. She shook while remaining silent. It was apparent with her condition, if he released her she wouldn’t get very far. She needed blood to regain strength.

He sighed and closed his eyes, tired from holding back emotion. His companion was still suffering in the corner. The cries began to muffle but the suffering was still present.

“I know you are hungry,” he began. “I know you don’t want to hurt me…just please–.”

The woman watched him closely as he rested his weight up against the bars. “Please end his suffering. Make it quick. Easy.” He paused and turned from Reacher back to her form within the cage, “Find yourself to safety. Get away from here. There will be patrols…do not linger.”

She nodded her head, he went to his companion to say a final goodbye. This had to be it, he reasoned. Many moons of speaking in agreement with Isran, his found family, debating whether or not they should leave this faction that seemingly meant to do good but their tactics were well…not what he imagined before joining. He felt his dagger again on his hip. He should kill the creature in the cage. She was a monster after all…

“Rest, my friend. May the gods lead you to peace.” A kiss to his snout, and a pat on his neck to offer comfort. Why the vigilant is choosing to let his enemy take this life he did not know. It was a better option he reasoned than leaving him to die alone on the floor and suffer. Maybe he should have been the stronger man and perform the deed himself. Was that really his point of weakness?

He took the iron key and tossed it to the center of the cell.

“Please, no more suffering.”

CHAPTER 1

Some years later

“Don’t worry lad. I will make sure that Bran gets an even better looking set than before. Even if I have to spend day and night at the forge.” The large nord patted him on his shoulder, his cheeks turned pink from the ale. Celann nodded in thanks and glanced at the furry blob down by his feet under the table at the inn. He gave him a frown when he saw that the dog returned to chewing on its leather cuirass.

“Is there any other material that he won’t be able to chew through?”

Gunmar chuckled, “Aye I can make him a steel set but I’m not sure he will be able to move around as much as he likes.”

A grunt came from across the table. Durak, their orc ranger, spoke behind his mug. “That’s better. Keep him out of the troll pen. I tire of hearing them chase in the morning.”

“I forget you need your beauty sleep, Durak.” Celann smirked while the orcs tusks turned in a scowl. “But in all, we should probably wait to take Bran out again until after he is trained to not chew through everything that touches his fur.”

“I will leave you to that.” Gunmar remarked, “my skill set includes taming foul beasts and trolls—not spoiled lap dogs.”

A cold nose touched the inside of his palm that rested by his knee. A furry gray, white snout and two blue eyes looked up at him—begging for scratches. Yeah spoiled lap dog is right.

Celann grinned and ruffled through his ears. He knew he was in deep if it meant correcting any of this creature's misdoings.

But that was okay.

The three vampire hunters sat around their table at the Bee and the Barb for another hour or so, chatting and relieving the stress of another hunt. They had just cleared out a den a little north of Ivarstead the night prior and spent the day resting in their rented rooms.

Things had honestly quieted down after the Dragonborn left and Harkon the vampire lord of the Volkihar clan was defeated. They still had jobs however, the threat of vampires always loomed throughout Skyrim.

“Have you heard any from our dragon shouting friend?” He turned back to Gunmar. The man ran a few fingers through his thick beard in thought.

“I saw the lass a little while ago. She came in needing a new set of greaves. Claimed I always smithed the best.” He rolled his eyes. I think it was just because she didn’t want to travel any farther west.”

Durak grunted and picked up another tankard. Celann had to admit that he didn’t miss the Dragonborn and the commotion that followed her. Things were so much simpler, something he would enjoy. He was able to focus on other things now that he didn't have to keep a watchful eye over his shoulder for one of the Volkihar vampires. He could focus on his routine, and maybe even find some time to live–find a new hobby or read one of those novels that Sorine is always going on about. Bran licked his knee, leaving a few bite marks on his leather greaves…perhaps training the dog would come first.

“I have had enough of it!.” A stark voice broke through the ambience of the inn. An older nord clad in deer skins and worn down linen, barged in with aggravation on his face.

“If any of you are the ones leaving carcasses around my home by Talos you will have seen your last days! Mark my words!”

“Calm down now, whatever is the matter?”

The man turned to one of the argonian barkeeps, “I have run into at least ten dead deer on my land this week! All of them rotten corpses, strung out. I won’t be ridiculed like this!”

Gunmar gave the two of them a sideways glance as they listened to more shouting and argument. A few of the patrons in the inn went on to say the old man was mad–perhaps imagining things.

“I could take care of these mongrels for a fair price if you're interested” The sellsword clad in golden mage robes chimed in from a corner. “Sounds like an easy task for a master of the arcane arts.”

“I wouldnt give you a septim to clean my chamber pot, Marcurio! It was likely one of your wizard friends that caused this! The shape of the creatures–all hollowed out like they got the life sucked out of em”

Duraks deep voice interrupted, “Did you see any blood?”

He looked at the orc in confusion.

“Any wounds or gashes? Were the corpses hard like stone?”

“Aye, they were. You know what did this?”

The orc turned to his brethren and then his gaze landed on Celann. “It’s your turn to take odd jobs.”

He sighed, so much for finding free time this night.

“I will take Bran back to his pen.”

He nodded to Gunmar before walking over to speak more to the disgruntled patron.

This might be a long night, he only prayed it wouldn’t be.

+++

A beam of moonlight shrouded the forest in an ethereal glow. The orange leaves falling around the birch trees of the Rift danced, while the wolf packs to the north sang their freighting tune. This reminded her that she was grateful. Grateful to have come all the way to Skyrim. She smiled and stopped in her bare footsteps.

She may have just found a place to be happy.

Her undead companion leaped in front, sending her into a fit of chuckles.

“Easy now, we mustn't cause too much commotion. You will scare away every living creature for a hundred miles.”

Its shining blue eyes met her yellow ones for just a second before bounding ahead in an inhuman stride. She shook her head, if he gets lost she could always just summon him once more. They were bonded after all.

It had been years since she found herself journeying alone, well if one didn't take her companion into account. She has traveled all over these lands, albeit settling in Cyrodiil for the most part. Skyrim though, it was something else.

The people were kind. Well, except for the thalmor that had made their own little place here. The nords were good. They cared for their own and worshiped a god that she believed was worth worshiping. Someone who gave them all hope and courage. She could respect it.

The game is plenty. The woodlands are thriving with wildlife. She has been able to be kept fed enough that she can enjoy some of the daylight and that was a feat in itself. To be healthy–her body and mind.

But in all of this state of living she found that there was something missing. Something she hadn’t had in a lifetime.

Family.

Of course, she created her own but it wasn’t the same. Coming from a large family–from what she could remember–it saddened her. She did not remember much of her childhood in Valenwood. She remembered her kind mother and her strong father. Her mischievous little sisters…She could never have that again. But, she has spent many moons accepting that. It was just that–the way of life for a creature such as her.

Loneliness.

The vampire strolled to her favorite piece of this land. A little cliffside that looked over the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil. She could see the Jerrall mountains stretch far and even sometimes feel the breeze of the cool mountain air.

A rustling far from her in the bushes to the east caught her attention. She quickly turned around, using her vampiric keen eyesight to determine what it was. It sounded like footsteps. Human footsteps.

She knew that there were vampire hunters to the east of this area. That was her cue to stow away for the night. She was not intending to become someone else's prized hunt.

Raena departed swiftly and quietly on two feet, only to find herself coming to a standstill once again.

+++

He found three already. Animal corpses drained of blood. It was disgusting he thought as he looked at the flesh in a scowl. A life put to such waste. Another animal for game that should have been hunted to feed a family and instead—it fed an abomination.

Celann sighed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His mead induced buzz finally breaking into a moment of sobriety. He hadn’t seen any other signs of the monster in this area. Perhaps they moved on.

The hunter strolled further, taking a few moments to catch a breath and take in the beautiful sights of this side of the Rift. He loved the beautiful orange and yellow shades of the trees but nothing still didn’t compare to the sights beyond dayspring canyon, where Fort Dawnguard lies. This thought only had him wishing to go home and rest for the night.

He smirked thinking about it. His first time he ever went hunting he was very young. Maybe about eight or ten years old and he paraded after his grandfather in the woods west of Evermore in High Rock. Even then he wasn’t very good with the arcane arts. He remembers that his grandfather had to teach him the old way of tracking. The way that didn’t use spells or magic.

If it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t be so good at what he does now.

Several rustling of leaves and interruptions in the undergrowth. The patterns didn’t seem to be humanoid. More like animalistic.

In this case hunting monsters one couldn’t really ever be sure.

He followed the tracks with a watchful eye on his surroundings. Staying on high alert he withdrew his bow, an iron arrow in hand.

A blur of gray rushed past him in surprise.

He almost scolded Bran for being an erratic haywired pup but he remembered that the dog left with the others to head back to the fort. A couple barks and panting brought him back to the creature at hand. His hands. Licking them.

Celann looked down and he could swear that he was looking into a moment far into the past.

Thick long dark gray fur and a black nose with little tan speckling on the end. It reminded him of a close friend he had, the only difference was this dog had glowing blue eyes instead of the jade green of one he knew before.

He went to put his bow away only to find the dog chewing on the end of his arrow. It had mirth and happiness in its eyes. He chuckled, what an odd thing that he didn’t expect to see.

He pet it behind his ears, its tongue stuck out while it panted happily. A few barks and yaps, it jumped up attempting to lick at the hunters face.

“Alright, alright. Easy there, easy.”

The dogs tail waggled back and forth. He crouched down and scratched its neck. The resemblance was…something else.

Celann continued to stalk through the woods, checking for signs of vampiric activity. The gray dog followed in his footsteps, bouncing around trying to catch a falling leaf or chase a lone scampering rodent.

He was sure that he wouldn’t get anywhere on this job with the newfound distraction but…he welcomed it.

“You haven’t seen any vampires around here, have you boy? No undead walking around?”

The dog tilted its to the side and barked once. Celann chuckled, “I would have figured. You know I used to have a dog a lot like you….I miss him very much…if you need a home you are welcome to come with me. We have two other huskies at the fort. They would love a new friend.”

The dog ran in front panting and sniffing the ground. Celann was about to reach in his pack to hand him a scrap of dried meat until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Someone was behind a thicket of trees, something with glowing yellow eyes.

“Wait!” The hunter scolded quietly as he watched the dog bounce away from him towards the creature. He heard a hushed feminine voice before the dog disappeared behind the trees.

Celann withdrew his bow once more, stalking quietly, closer to where he saw his new friend depart.

Then he felt his feet still.

Her skin was a soft shade of moss and her eyes glowed a yellowish green. A sight he remembered once long before. The only vampire whose life he spared.

But, that couldn’t be. He thought as his mind directed back to the gray dog bouncing around in the woods with him that night. It couldn’t be. He was dead…or maybe he wasn’t after all this time.

Her form was still hiding, she was obscured in the darkness under the growth of the leaves but their eyes were locked together. No one made any movement.

“Who’s there?” He called out like a fool. A fool whose mind was nearly being lost. He cringed inwardly at himself but the woman didn’t say a word. She only watched.

“Please tell me I’m not crazy.” He said softly, “I know you don’t I?”

He saw the bushes move. Her eyes went dark and all he saw was greenery of the woods. He approached cautiously and went to push apart the branches only to come face to face with an empty clearing—and a single charm on a stone that lay by his feet.

An old rusted collar tag that read the name.

REACHER.

#I haven’t really written in a minute ahhhhh #tes #fan fiction #skyrim fanfiction #Dawnguard #Skyrim #Celann #oc raena

6 notes · View notes

marsdenlee · 7 months

Text

Synopsis: It's a very Merry Chrysler (2023) in the Lee-Bolt household, gifts are exchanged including the official establishment of their very special family. Trigger Warnings: beebs being disgustingly adorable, also some suggestive adult content

MARS

The day began with full merriment as it was necessary. Marsden, despite his generally dark attire and borderline gothic punk aesthetic, was a massive fan of the wintery holiday and so from the moment he woke up in the morning, which was at an astonishingly early six o'clock for he had been very much excited to get the day started early, up until now it was non-stop Christmas mode.

He had on his ugly Christmas sweater, which was this year Bengals themed because his favorite team was doing very well this year and he had high hopes they would make it to the playoffs and then the Superbowl in the following year so was representing them, and also wore red plaid trousers because it fit the Christmas theme and the pairing of the two articles of clothing was a bit jarring but he made it work, the ridiculousness of it seemed to be improved upon by the theme and the Santa hat he had on his head.

"Presents, baby, presents," the siren would plead with all the excitement in his body buzzing like a bomb about to implode as he bounced on the edge of the bed and landed draping himself across the werewolf where he then started to play punch at the man's chest, making impact sound effects as each hit 'landed.'

RYDEN

His morning was off, the only obligation Ryden had on the day was to spend it with family and make a brief appearance at the Den and the festivities the pack was preparing there every year for Christmas. But other than that, he was as free as a bird so although Marsden waking up at six in the morning had also woken the wolf up - it would’ve happened even on a calmer day let alone today, Ryden’s sleep light and easily disturbed as it was - Ryden still chose to remain in bed after the siren, just lounging under the covers with arms folded behind his head under the pillow, eyes resting.

He felt the bed bounce, warning him of potential impact so he was ready when the siren landed on him, only playfully grunting out as if the weight actually had any ways of hurting him. He chuckled as Mars play-punched at him, morning voice more gravely than usual, still working on waking up although its owner already was. “I got me present rite ‘ere, I’m unwrappin’ it.” He cracked an eye open, one arm unfolding from behind his head to find the hem of Marsden’s ugly Christmas sweater and tug on it, no actual force or determination behind the action, more a playful threat of undressing than anything else.

MARS

"Ah, ah, ah," the siren scolded as he felt the fabric of his sweater tug at the hem and Ryden's fingers were the culprit, he leaned in to capture devious smirking lips with his own, taunting along the slope of a cupid's bow, "That's fer later," the siren promised with a kiss. "Real presents, baby, those're fer now." Marden made a good attempt to wrap his arms around Ryden's middle, snuggling comfortably against the softly rising chest as the werewolf breathed, his cheek against a softly muscled chest, the best place for a nap in his not so very humble opinion, but this wasn't nap time. It was time to roll and the siren tugged and pulled and strained, grunting with effort to pull the werewolf along with him, attempting to roll himself onto his back and Ryden atop of him because that would be one step closer to getting up and out of bed.

RYDEN

Sufficiently placated, Ryden ceased his attempts to pull the ugly Christmas sweater off Marsden - he didn’t really put his mind to it in the first place anyway, he was used to their mornings being often reserved for everything else besides fooling around - and just enjoyed what he could get, which was sweet kisses. “When’s later?” He asked playfully against the other’s lips, not really needing an answer. He returned both hands to being folded under the pillow behind his head. “I didn’t git ya nothin’, whoops.” He joked. Of course he got Mars a gift for Christmas. He was just feeling playful, Marsden’s holiday enthusiasm contagious. Though he had to admit he liked Mars trying to snuggle up to him more, he wished they didn’t have to get up even for presents, and could remain like this for most of the day. When Ryden worked hard, he worked hard, but when he was lazy, he was terribly lazy.

But Marsden didn’t stay idle and resting against his chest for too long, soon enough he was making attempts to roll them over and Ryden shifted around, switching their positions easily. Once he was on top he simply deposited the majority of his weight onto the siren with a wistful sigh, effectively pinning the other man to the mattress. “Jus’ five more minutes, kay? Two? One. Even one is fine.” He bargained, burying his face in the crook of Mars’ neck.

MARS

Mars delighted immediately at the weight of Ryden's body laying over him that he, for now, gave up entirely on his attempts at getting the other man out of the bed. There was no sweeter place than being in his warm embrace, buried in entirely by the weight of him until it was the only thing the siren could focus on and all his senses enveloped in perfect contentedness. "Five minutes," he agreed then, still pretending that he wanted to leave and open presents right now, but doing nothing to make that happen, he was too busy nuzzling his nose into the side of Ryden's shoulder and pressing his lips against the rounded slope of muscle there.

His arms encircled around him, hands clasping against a broad back clinging over the mountainous range of shoulder blades and was at home, breathing in the sensation of adoring and being adored. There was no better place for it. "Maybe you're right," he muttered, low voice muffled into a warm shoulder, "Maybe Mariah Carey knows what she's talking about."

RYDEN

Ryden hummed, lazy and happy for being allowed five whole blissful minutes of being in his beloved's arms. Even a second was more than he could ever ask for, silently grateful for his miracle person, an angel who was sent to a poor, tired sinner like him, to a beggar who never thought he would have a full meal again. And there was now a feast, so lavish and rich that if he were only ever allowed to just look and not touch a single morsel, take a single bite, he'd still be happy. But he was allowed to take up a plate and fill it up to his heart's content and his greedy dark heart could only plead with 'please sir, may I have some more?'

Because with Marsden, he was content with but a crumb and at the same time he always wanted more. His heart was full, but it was never enough. He loved but he could love more. He had but could have more…

Five more minutes. Two. One even. Give him more.

"Mmmhm. Listen to the high notes. They'll tell ya what t'do." He chuckled against the other's cheek, parting from the soft press of it against his own so he could kiss Mars' lips again and mutter a quiet 'Merry Christmas, moonbeam' officially through a languid smirk.

MARS

This was only their second Christmas together yet it still felt like the first, every second and every day felt like another first, another blissful first filled with heart flutters of excitement and soothing ease of adoration. He didn't think it was possible to be this in love and yet here it was right in front of him, beneath his hands, against his lips, filling his lungs. "Merry Christmas, starshine," he mumbled back against the smirking lips in which he kissed.

And then he was off again, wiggling his body beneath the weight of the werewolf like a worm trying to free itself. "Alright, up now, come on, let's go!"

RYDEN

His five minutes were apparently up! So up Ryden also went. "A'ight, a'ight, lessgo." He crawled off the wiggling eelman and off the bed, sauntering away to grab the pair of sweatpants dropped on the floor last night before bed time. With yawns accompanying, a terrifying sight to behold because they revealed sharp teeth a human jaw should not possibly have, he pulled the piece of clothing on and considered himself ready enough to venture out. No one but the other man and the baby was there to see the mess of his hair, that now sported perfect rings of curls falling over his forehead and into his eyes so he left those be, too comfortable to be grumpy about it. He meandered out of the bedroom, an idle hand scratching a buttcheek over the sweatpants. Usually he'd go for the coffee maker first but Mars was planning this day out so he was his to direct and instruct.

MARS

Mars rolled feet over head to get off the bed, landing on his feet on the other side and standing upright with both arms in the air when he stuck the landing successfully. Hem of his ugly sweater rose up from the action and he tugged it back down and did not immediately follow Ryden out of the bedroom, he dipped into the walk in closet to the side and emerged with an ugly sweater for Ryden, for he too must wear one! This was tossed at Ryden's direction when he left the bedroom, trusting the wolf would catch it with his preternatural reflexes, "Your uniform," Mars proclaimed happily. "Baby is awake?" He asked while passing the other man and giving a smack to his behind in the process. Maria Elena had gotten better at sleeping through the night and now rarely woke this early anymore unless she was sick or soiled herself in her sleep and he once again trusted that Ry would know if she was awake or still sleeping. "Let her stay asleep if she ain't awake," he commented as he pulled their stockings down from where they hung by a window since there was no fireplace.

RYDEN

Of course he’d caught the sweater, almost blindly and still yawning, with just a hand stretching out to pluck the flying piece of woolen clothing out of air. He stretched it out in front of him to have a look, sleepy face adopting a slightly disgusted expression. But then again Ryden often looked dramatically disgusted even if he wasn’t nearly so. It was an ugly sweater though, but he put it on nevertheless, incoherent mumble-grumbling as he pulled it over his head. He was still trapped by it when Mars passed him, making him grunt softly at the smack to his butt. “Asleep.” He announced, already aware of that. He’d be the first to know as soon as she wasn’t. Sweater properly on him, a little mismatched with the dark sweatpants he wore, Ryden shuffled over to the couch, sitting down on it with nothing better to do as Marsden buzzed about. He sprawled there, as lazy as a wolf could be.

MARS

Asleep, good, little thing that she was she didn't yet understand that holidays came around every year or what they even were until the day of when the exciting event was occuring. Her still sleeping meant they could have some moments of the holiday alone and moments alone were ever rare so cherished whenever available. Mars came around to the couch where Ryden reclined, ugly sweater was ugly but the man wearing it was remarkable in anything so despite the horrible pattern and imagry he still somehow managed to make it look good. "Will you make us breakfast when she wakes, my luv?" Marsden asked, shifting the inflection of his accent to a very poor attempt at a British one. He liked the way Ryden's voice rolled over syllables but could not match it despite his poor attempts at mimicry. The siren handed off a stocking to the wolf, stuffed with all sorts of yet unknown trinkets and snacks and random stuffers meant for him, then sat himself down onto the couch beside, legs touching, his fingers fiddled with a fuzzy cotton ball affixed to his own stocking equally filled. Tux laid as a warm loaf of darkness beneath the coffee table and peered out at the two men lazily with partly squinted yellow eyes. Tux had a stocking as well but he was a cat and would need help with it later.

RYDEN

“Dat’s the hashtag plan, luv.” Responded Ryden, in a more natural and genuine British accent as he shifted his reclining position so he could reach over to wrap an arm around Marsden’s shoulder, always eager to maintain at least some physical contact, but a stocking was handed over to him and Ryden took it instead with a soft hum of surprise. “Ooh, wat’s dis? Dobby got a sock? Dobby’s a free elf now?” And for some reason, he said it in a deeper but still pretty impressive Gollum voice, even though the two fantasy creatures had nothing to do with each other.

He dug into his stocking, rummaging through it and then shaking it out, letting things fall onto the couch or into his lap as he inspected them greedily, coming up with a Mars bar at some point and hissing out a joyful ‘yessss’ because that was his favorite and most expected candy before he got to the ‘I love you more’ keychain and raised it up to make it known that those were, “Lies!” and then he stuffed it into the pocket of his sweatpants. Then he got to the facepalming kitty and ‘heh-ed’, pointing at it and declaring “Ugly!” before that one went into his pocket too. He ‘pff-ed’ at the rubber duckie, taking a minute to play with its helicopter hat, childishly delighted that it actually spun. Then the ducky went into the pocket too. And then he pulled out a pair of socks from the stocking and whisper-shouted “Sock-ception!” before he curled his legs under himself and pulled them onto his bare feet. He’d noticed what was written on them only after they were on so he struggled for a second to lean over and maneuver his feet to take a better look, snorting out his amusement at the message they had on them. He had them on the other way around so he took them off and put each on the proper foot now.

MARS

A broad grin was an ever constant fixture on the siren’s face whenever Ryden was around him, the grin might occasionally be replaced by a different expression from time to time, adoration, longing, love, amusement, ecstasy, but a smile would always be quick to return, his default expression whenever around him. Ryden’s Gollum impression quoting Dobby’s lines made him chortle and smile brighter, “Yes, my precious,” he said in a Dobby impression quoting Gollum’s line.

He watched Ryden as he opened his gifts, the expression on his features turning to adoration as the werewolf went through each one and seemed to find great enjoyment in them which pleased the siren immensely. “Ya got da big grand finale out on da balcony there,” he inclined his head toward the large windowed doors that led to the balcony of their apartment where a black motorized tricycle would be waiting complete with a wire basket attachment in the rear and decorated with a large bright red bow on the handlebars.

The siren also took to taking out his gifts, first one being a jar of little candy canes that he ooooh’d for and immediately twisted off the cap so he could fish one out and stick the straight end into his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he started sucking on the sweet treat. He was a chewer so he’d eventually just bite down on the hard candy and gnaw on it without breaking through it. When he got to the Bowie vinyl, Mars marveled at the art on the cover, humming in appreciation around the sweet candy cane but popped it out with one hand so he could talk easier, “Baby dis is sick,” he laughed and pointed to the album title, reading it out loud in part, “Spiders from Mars! Heh! Spiders from me! I’m da source of all da spiders,” and gave an evil cackle. “Dis is so awesome but baby, I don’t have something to play it on,” not yet realizing that he’d been gifted a record player as well.

RYDEN

Leave it up to the other man to very easily match him and pick up on Ryden’s more often than not dumb silly jokes, delighting in them more than anyone had ever had. It made Ry grin back at the other widely, a childish sort of joy on his face. It had been a while since he came to expect this childish wonder on a holiday such as this and the siren was the one who’d reawakened it.

“On da balcony? Why’d ya hafta put it there?” He questioned, puzzled, though he had to admit that it was a good place to hide the gifts at, as long as they were weather-proof. Ryden himself had some trouble keeping his own grand finale gift hidden from the other, them living together making it quite difficult now when he needed it the most because surprising each other with gifts had become such a big, joyous thing in their lives ever since they got together.

The wolf would get up in a minute to go check the balcony out, as soon as Mars was also done unpacking his own gifts. “Lucky fucker.” He muttered at the action of Mars sticking a candy cane into his mouth, teasingly jealous of the piece of candy. His grin grew wider as Bowie’s record got pulled out, apparently a ‘vintage’ edition, an older, rarer find and therefore more precious and pretty much collectionary. “Aaah, I was thinkin’ ‘bout dat too, my extraterrestrial Martian spider daddy.” He tapped the side of his head with a finger to point out how smort he was. “It was high time for us to git real fancy so why don’cha go check out the coat closet while I go check out the balcony, eh?” He suggested, raising a scarred eyebrow playfully.

MARS

"Check out da coat closet?" The siren immediately perked up with interest, rising from his seat on the couch with the kind of excited anticipation that looked odd coming from one of his age and size, no longer a child but right now he felt the excitement of one from the promise of an exciting find waiting for him concealed. "Okay!" But first, he was only a hop and a skip away from the werewolf and so the siren couldn't help himself but to close the distance between them, candy cane pulled out from his mouth now so he could give the wolf a peppermint scented kiss, lips warm and breath cool, sharing the taste of his sweet snack before he would leave and head toward the coat closet for his waiting surprise.

RYDEN

Ryden reveled in the small moment of attention he got, laced with sweet peppermint and sprinkled with the siren’s excitement, content but inwardly remorseful that it was over too soon. There was never such a thing as enough though sweet little loving moments of affection in the passing did have their charm. He watched the siren go to the coat closet with a huge grin splitting his lips, draping his arms somewhat smugly over the sofa’s backrest, knowing that the other man was very likely to love the gramophone that would fit perfectly into their apartment aesthetics, waiting wrapped up in Santa sharks gift paper for Mars to discover. Luckily their coat closet was just big enough to conceal it behind the rows of hanged jackets and winter stuff. Ry could already see it, all the moments when they would play cool shit on it and slow or silly dance to it, just the two of them, just like they tended to sometimes. Now they’ll have cool music played in style to go with it too. It was something Ryden always wanted to have with his partner once he ‘grew up’ and ‘settled down’. He considered it the peak of adult life lived well and slightly fancy, when the circumstances and finances allowed it. If they had something as nice as a gramophone to listen to good, quality music on, then life was good. Really good.

MARS

The hidden gift for him was easy enough to spot and Marsden exclaimed as he pulled it out, the wrapped package a little bulky looking and thanks to the hinting from Ryden, he could easily guess what it was but his surprise and elation remained at an all time high. He barely waited until he was back on the couch before he started tearing open the wrapping paper, pausing only briefly to point at one of the sharks pictured on it with another low chuckle that sounded very devious, "Looks like you, ya toothy fucker," he loved the little Santa's hats that the sharks were wearing. Mars never really admitted to being sentimental but he had a habit of collecting odd little trinkets that held for him a good memory and as he was removing the wrapping paper, he tore off a neat little square and set it onto the coffee table to keep for later, he'd tuck it nice and safe into the box he kept in his closet that was filled with receipts and other little sentimental things. Then he went on with opening the gift until the concealed item was revealed to be: "A gramophone! Aw sick! What?"

Mars pushed off the rest of the paper and smoothed his hands across the surface of the box, painting his fingers across the image displayed and the lettering, "No way, this is awesome! Aw man, I can't wait to play music on this! Hell yeah, it's going to sound so smooooooth. Thank you baby!" Mars held the box close to his chest, fingers gripped around the corners, chin propped against the flat side as he gave the werewolf a special look of adoration.

RYDEN

“I was actually lookin’ for one dat looks like you but imagine, there ain’t many Christmas-themed eel wrappin’ papers. Dere was one wit snakes tho but ew, no.” Ryden shrugged like this was not at all an expected thing and it was perfectly reasonable to be salty about it. A gentle little smile tugged at his lips as Mars unwrapped the gift and even tore off a piece of the paper to keep, his smile never losing its sharpness but it got an added hint of rare gentlemen adoration to it nevertheless, reserved only for the other man. That smile turned absolutely head-splitting when the gift was finally revealed in full.

“So fuckin’ smooth.” Ryden agreed, a firm believer that the best music sound came from a device such as the one they now had in their home. There was another unspoken reason to why Ryden had gifted Mars with this specific gift. Airpods were neat for sure and they seem to do wonders to drown out the voices going on in Marsden’s head but this Ryden thought to be another way to go about it, a more of a distracting, ambiental way that should also bring some joy to this action of using music and sound to treat the condition the siren battled with every day.

“Imma go check out yers now!” Ryden declared enthusiastically then, springing off the couch like a light bouncy ball to practically parade over to the balcony, ripping its door open with a flair. And then he froze as he beheld what was sitting outside. “The fuck is dat, babe!?” A stark difference to his tone between this being said in the face of an unpleasant surprise versus a pleasant one, this time obviously being the latter.

MARS

Mars was damn near giddy with glee as Ryden opened the balcony door and came face to face with the black body of the electric tricyle, bright red bow gleaming on the handlebars. "It's a tricycle!" Mars was quick to exclaim, he still held onto his gift, the bulky box of the gramophone when he rose to stand up, half stepping toward the balcony doors and then remembering to put his box down so did a half pirouette on his toes, bent only at the hip with one leg straight and other extended out behind him in a ballet move, setting the box down on the edge of the coffee table before he righted himself and light on the points of his sock clad feet, leapt to land with arms in a draping way against the werewolf's back. "It's electric, it goes fast, but not too fast, think it can get up to thirty miles an hour and it has a cargo cage fer things!"

RYDEN

“Shit…” Ryden muttered, disbelieving, as he felt the weight of the siren drape over his broad back. “Hell yea, I love space for things!” He exclaimed back, turning slightly to take as best of a peek at the siren as he possibly could, considering Mars was now hanging off his back. “Holy fuck, a tricycle! Hah!” He cackled, stunned, needing a moment to process this because it was so completely unexpected and delightful. “How’d ya get it all the way up ‘ere!?” He questioned, puzzled, and without a word interlaced his fingers behind them both so Mars could easily sit on the makeshift seat made by his connected palms and be carried piggyback on Ryden's back all the way out onto the balcony with him to inspect this new surprise addition to their household. Because of course Ryden did not mind sharing everything with Mars. If things were purchased and gifted, of course it was for the entire family. Even the Batmobile, which Ryden jealously protected from everyone else except from Mars.

MARS

"I have my ways," Mars intoned in a suggestively low voice, the waggle of his brows practically audible in the way he spoke. He followed the unspoken action of lifting himself up so that he could sit his weight against Ryden's interlaced fingers in a makeshift seat behind his back, being now lifted piggyback style and he kicked his legs out in front, hooting with a laugh at being lifted taller than his own natural height now. He had to keep himself low, cheek nuzzling against the side of Ryden's to avoid knocking his head against the door frame as they would pass through it onto the balcony. "It's coool, eh?" Mars wrapped his arms loosely around Ryden's neck, "Ya like it, baby?"

RYDEN

He snorted at Marsden’s ‘mysterious ways’, shrinking carefully through the frame that led onto their balcony, mindful of the added height of their stacked bodies. “It’s so freakin’ cool, yo.” Ryden admitted earnestly, now near the vehicle and looking it up and down. “I’ve never driven one o’these b’fore. I fuckin’ love it!” If for nothing else then because it was something new and exciting to try out, aside from it being a gift from his beloved. “Shit, baby, ya always think of the sickest gifts. How’d ya do it? Is it magic?” He pressed the side of his face against Mars’, rubbing his cheek somewhat roughly against his, the sandpapery texture of his five o'clock shadow already in need of a shave. He then glanced back at the balcony door, trying to figure out how Mars got the thing through it. He had to have pushed it through sideways. It was an action that fascinated Ryden almost as equally as the tricycle itself did.

Then, an idea struck him and he immediately rushed to share it with the other man. “Oiii, tadpole! I can go grocery shoppin’ in this one! It’ll be super convenient!” Even though their usual go-to shop was literally across the street, but hey, there were also times when they visited the farmer’s market for some even fresher produce, Ryden always insisting on trying to eat as healthy as possible if for nothing else, then for the baby’s sake. The prospect of this colored Ryden’s tone of voice with noticeable anticipation, the man almost wishing they needed something for the fridge today, asap, so that he could go run this errand on his new tricycle.

MARS

Mars beamed, the edges of his smile felt around the rounded slope of his high cheeks nuzzled up against the side of Ryden's face, exuberant with love and feeding off the excitement of this gift like a hungry gremlin. It brought him such joy that made his heart and chest lighten. "Yeah! You totally can! Cuz cargo cart!" And as he confirmed it, he extended out a hand to point though it was entirely unnecessary to do so. "Cargo cart for things! Can mebbe even put da Jelly Baby in da cart and go zooming!" The imagery that evoked of his two favorite people zooming around on the electric tricycle even made him wish for it to happen now, but the little one was still sleeping as far as he knew and her precious sleep must not be disturbed. Besides, there was still one more thing he wanted to give to Ryden.

The siren rubbed his face affectionately against Ry's, not minding the sand papery feeling of growing in coarse stubble as his lips landed against his cheek multiple times for numerous kisses, each one a silent declaration of love. "Got one more thing for ya, baby."

RYDEN

"Ooooh, yeaaaah!" Ry hissed happily, like zooming around with the Jelly Bebe in the tricycle cargo cart was such a big, glorious mischief that he had to lower his voice when talking about, lest someone else overhears and spoils their fun plans. He bent his knees a little, giving Mars a little bounce, request for the siren to step off him so Ryden could free his hands and poke and touch his gift, antsy machanic and vehicle enthusiast fingers itching. But he didn't mind stalling it for the sake of sweet kisses, chuckling as they landed one after another.

"Ya got more? Shit, I only got ya a couple and ya got me, loike, a trillion! Wha' is it?" He asked, genuinely surprised that this was not the end of it.

MARS

Laughter trickled from his lips at being bounced and did adjust his weight so that he could step down from Ryden's back, giving the man ample time and room to explore his gift. "No spoilers," the siren tutted with a click of his tongue, "You'll get it after." Inwardly, he felt anxious about it, the edges of his stomach seemed to sour with anticipation but he could wait and he would force himself to, for now more than happy to watch his beloved explore the gift of the electric tricycle.

He crossed his arms over his chest, not out of impatience but simply because it was cold outside and while he was wearing the thick silly holiday sweater and unmatching plaid trousers, the wind chill was seeping in between the woven fabric and he tried to conceal that the weather was affecting him, turning the point of his nose bright red with every exhale of wispy air. "Mebbe can take Jelly Baby to da park on it later?" Marsden suggested, "'Er da Christmas market if it's still open."

RYDEN

"I got aaaaall day for it." Ryden was fine with no spoilers, not minding the wait because they indeed did have all the day for it with the exception of a part of the evening, when they would have to make a brief apoearance at the Den and the Christmas party it hosted every year for the pack. Otherwise, their schedule was all dedicated to their family time. Without Mars on him, Ry aporoached the tricycle, looking it this way and that, up and down, over and under and even sat on it as best as their small balcony would allow, getting the feel of how he fit on it. As he gripped the handle bars, he gave the siren a big goofy grin.

"Can you fit on it too, though." He asked at that suggestion as he turned around to check just how much room was left behind him. The cold was apparenlty not bothering Ryden even a bit, and his every exhale was like a lungful of cigarette smoke, full of steaming hot air, even as he spoke it seeped from between his lips. Legitimately, if he rubbed his hands together to generate more heat, even his palms would fog up the air around them a little.

MARS

"I'll fit," the siren felt confident of that even before trying. He was slim and he was flexible and he had a similar sort of stubbornness that Ryden held, whereby even if he didn't actually fit he would find a way to make himself fit.

So the siren approached the tricycle Ryden sat upon and with one hand on the werewolf's shoulder for stability, he lifted his leg up and swung it over the back of the tricycle, straddling it and now looked on either side, here and there for a place to put his feet so they wouldn't be on the ground. There was a lot of metal rods, connective fixtures that made up the body of the tricycle and Mars set his feet on a place that he felt wouldn't get in the way of Ryden's on the pedals (for it was electric but still had manual pedals when it was out of juice) and sat his bottom on the front railing of the cargo cart since there was no room for him on the seat. "There!" The siren exclaimed, wrapping his arms around the werewolf's middle happily stealing some of his extra body heat in the process. "I fits!" It was uncomfortable but he fit.

RYDEN

"We should go, then!" Ryden delivered his approval of that plan with that same goofy grin, trusting Mars blindly on that confirmation that he would fit. And as the siren tried it out, Ry sucked his stomach in, pressing himself forward as much as possible to accomodate. "Aw hell yeah!" He exclaimed triumphantly as they seem to have managed it. No vehicle was a good vehicle if it couldn't fit his whole world on it and that included the baby and Mars. Even Princess will one day be able to host the Jelly Baby on its back. Ryden was already determined to leave her as part of Maria Elena's heirloom one day.

"Gotta figure out a way t'make it more cozy." He muttered as he pondered, trying to look around but it was difficult with Mars gluing himself to his back again, though Ryden did not complain about it. A casual glance over the balcony railing caught one of their neighbours in the building next to theirs on the window, staring, wondering for who knows what time what the hell were these two doing. It all started back when they've put two large skeleton men out for Halloween and arranged them in not so vaguely nsfw poses for shits and giggles. Now the neigbour seemed to have found them more interesting than the news channel.

"Merry Crysler!" Ryden shouted over with a little wave, his voice carrying, the neighbour in question giving an awkward wave back before slinking away. Like this had not just happened, Ryden tilted his head to give the edge of Mars' jaw a sloppy kiss. "Ya cold, my spicy cocktail shrimp? Let's git'cha inside b're ya turn into a frozen fish stick."

MARS

As Ry shouted a Christmas greeting to their nosy neighbor, Mars did the same, jubilantly waving, "Merry Crisis!" His eyes closed happily when he felt Ryden press a kiss to the side of his jaw, he leaned into it, perfectly content despite the cold. "I'm all a shiverin'," and he cartoonishly chattered his teeth together in emphasis of the cold. "Carry me inside, Mr. Kringle Klaus," and Mars held onto Ryden's back tighter in anticipation of being lifted up once again. "Then special extra present," he bonked the side of his head lovingly against the side of Ry's.

RYDEN

"Yea yea, ya buy me things t'ride, and ya ride me." He grumbled happily, because although grumble-sounding, it was a happy grumble, and he promptly slipped his hands around Mars' thighs, lifting him up as he dismounted the tricycle carefully. "I must've been a really good boy dis year, so many presents." He lead them inside, ducking under the obstacle of a very regular and therefore too low of a doorframe in this particular situation. He walked over to their couch, plopping them both unceremonoisly onto it.

MARS

"Mhm, yeah I do," the siren returned with a sensual squeeze of his legs around Ryden's middle, "And yes you have been a good boy, real good," he nipped playfully at an earlobe, tongue meeting metal from a piercing of which there were many. They were soon deposited back inside where it was considerably warmer and once plopped onto the couch, the siren unwrapped himself from Ryden's back and rose to stand. "Stay," he said to the wolf, "I gotta get it."

He glanced back at Ryden with a full toothed smile, holding up a hand in a silent gesture to give him a second as he crossed the living room and disappeared into the bedroom. He would emerge some short moments later holding a thin red flat box about the size of a standard notebook, decorated simply with a silver bow in the direct center. This he handed to Ryden and then reclaimed his spot on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, ankle atop a knee and an elbow perched at the side of his bent knee so he could rest his chin in the middle of his palm, fingers caging up over his mouth, cool touch of his fingerprints against his lower lip, a position he often took when he felt nervous.

His smile now gone, lips beneath the cage of his fingers a line pressed flat while his gaze on the werewolf turned to cold liquid, watching with a soft and careful attentiveness like a slowly moving stream lapping gently against a riverbank; even this was an act of devotion.

The red box with the silver bow would be easily opened, no tape or tied ribbon to keep it shut, only a lid which needed to be pulled off from the top and revealing within very simply a few stacks of white paper. Stacks of white paper lined with thin streaks of formal legal writing and the very top of the page in clearly printed thick bold lettering it would say: Consent to Adoption. Reading through the top page would say: I certify that I, Marsden Augustus Lee, am the birth father of Maria Elena Lee and I certify that I am consenting to the adoption of the child by the above-named Petitioner, Ryden Douglas Bolt. The following page behind it looked similar except this page was titled differently and would say: Petition for Stepparent Adoption.

RYDEN

The squeeze of slim but strong thighs around his waist and the tongue against one of the studs in his ear made Ryden melt into the cushions for a moment as soon as he sat down, needing a second to recover. "Wow, broke my over thirty years long streak o'bein' nothin' but bad. Feels weird." He joked, sitting up a little straighter as Mars instructed him to stay while he went off to get the last part of his Christmas gift. When the siren glanced back, Ryden returned the grin, suddenly feeling giddy because it felt like this one would be a special one, far more special than the tricycle.

Ryden accepted the notebook-like box, already clueless as to what this might package. Suddenly everything adopted a much more serious vibe, at least that's what it felt like to Ryden. It made him clear his throat as careful fingers pried the thin box open.

Surprisingly, the box held nothing but a neat stack of papers and Ryden leaned over it while holding it all with both hands. He always took a little longer than an average literate person to read things through, his dyslexia a bit of an obstacle, but never enough to truly impede him when he put his mind to it. His first thought was adoption of another furry friend like Ugly and Tux, which would be great but what this was actually for was infinitely better.

Disbelief wrecked him as he read the first few lines on the front page over and over again, for minutes now, struggling to process not because he wasn't reading it right but because this was well beyond his sweetest, wildest dreams.

After reading it in silence for who knows which time, he wasn't counting, Ryden crumbled. A hand came up to cover his eyes, head hanging, corners of his lips tilting downwards. He stayed that way, motionless for a long time.

MARS

Mars observed the werewolf in this careful way for a long while, neither moving nor saying anything, letting the man take his time to read and understand what the legal documents were saying. It was a request, a confirmation, a giving of something that was already his but making it officially known not only to themselves within the private chambers of their happy little ecosystem but to the rest of the world and beyond that they were a family. Maria Elena was Ry's just as much as she was Mars'. They shared in every achievement of hers, her first steps, her first words, the emotions that overcame the siren whenever he had to buy bigger clothes for her, the excitement that came at buying a new toy, teaching her about the world as it happened one thing at a time, like the coldness of rain and snow and the heat of the sun and scratch of sand. They were raising her together as their own and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When Ryden's hand came up to cover his eyes, the first real sign of movement in a long while of silent reading, the siren began to shift too, slowly he moved himself closer to the werewolf and already his chest began to tighten as his heart rushed with a swell of emotions that made his vision blurry. He settled against Ryden's side, an arm wrapped around a broad back in a warm half embrace, saying nothing but the beating of his heart could convey.

RYDEN

Upon feeling the siren stir next to him, the downward pull of the corners of Ryden's mouth deepened, the expression behind the covering hand distorting more. And when an arm was wrapped around his shoulders, it seem to trigger him off and they began to shake, at first just lightly trembling but very soon they rattled with noticeable motion although the man had not produced any crying sounds yet.

Then he pulled his hand off and it was wet with tears, eyes which he'd hid so far long overflowing. It wasn't the first time Mars had seen those stormy greys become almost crystal light with moisture but at best, Ryden only produced a small sniffle from the pent up pressure in his sinuses and a redness around the corners of his eyes. Rarely if ever there was a tear or two actually rolling down his cheeks. Now they were pouring down though, one after another, racing to catch up and they shook Ryden's entire upper frame with an earthquake of emotions.

He glanced between the papers in his hand and the siren and that set him even worse off and his head drooped so low it was almost between his knees now. He cried freely now, like he hadn't cried in years, which was true.

MARS

There was perhaps one other occasion that Mars recalled seeing Ryden emotional but it was nothing like this. Nothing could have prepared the siren for this. Not even as he might have anticipated some emotional response from the werewolf. He'd been able to feel the trembling muscles as emotions not often felt rattled around within the other man, had seen the downturned corners of his mouth pulled into the deepest frown the siren had ever seen but when the wolf lifted his face to his and Mars could see the tears there, not just a light trace of dampness or a singular tear that dared to escape past the thick canopy of dark lashes. These were tears, these were solid, vicious tears that poured from the wolf's eyes and down his face and Marsden felt momentarily stunned in the face of such intense emotion burdened in the features of a man who never before displayed them.

It was a silent dawning, the gentle caresses of the first rays of light from the sun slowly casting out the darkness of the night to warm the earth as Marsden leaned his head against the side of Ryden's shoulder and held the man sundered by earthquaking emotions. It brought forth his own tears more rapidly, free falling over the crest of water logged eyes. "I love you," came his voice in a muted mumble of thick emotions, "so much, baby. I love you. She loves you. Our baby," and as he said it his voice caught in half a sob.

RYDEN

Ry had to put the adoption papers down onto his lap, lest his trembling hand crumples the papers he held. It enabled him to shove a fist against his mouth, biting down on the knuckles to prevent himself from letting out an involuntary sound that might just be loud enough to wake the baby. Their baby. Now officially too, in written, made public as soon as Ryden signs it all. So he shook there like a leaf in the wind, waterworks pouring in complete silence aside from an occasional sniffle here and there.

And when Marsden spoke, Ryden shut his eyes tightly, this squeezing out another stream of salty tears, and he turned around carefully, wrapping his arms around the other man in a tight embrace, nodding mutely but vigorously at his words. "Yeah... yeah..." He managed to croak out after a couple of tries, wanting to say so much right now but not being capable of it.

MARS

Mars fully embraced Ryden now, turning his body into him with arms full circle around him, hands over the top of his shoulder and the back of the man's head where the short and sharp hairs tickled his palm. He'd honestly been partly nervous, hence his somber expression when he'd first handed Ryden the gift box with the legal documents within, worried that for some reason Ry would not want this. It was a relief that he did and the emotional response served to swell his overflowing heart with tidal waves of adoration. The siren turned his head slightly, angling so that his lips could plant against the side of Ryden's wet cheek, tasting his tears salty with every kiss.

RYDEN

He hugged back, as tight as Marsden's more fragile physique than his own would allow, never wanting to let go of this man who had given him everything a person could hope for, even more than a person like Ryden could ever wish to even glimpse let alone tentatively claim as his own. Marsden had given him so much, so easily, so willingly and lovingly, all the while adamantly claiming that Ry deserved it, even through Ry's own crippling self doubt and denial. He made him happy, so deeply profoundly happy despite it all and even left him with an unspoken promise that there would never be the end of it. And perhaps this was the exact moment when Ry, for the first time very consciously decided in the sob-shaken space of his muddled mind that one day, this will be the man he would marry. That one day, just like Marsden had officially given him the sacred duty of being Maria Elena's parent along with him, he would officially proclaim before the entire world that since the day they've met and then forevermore, he would dedicate his every minute of every hour of every day to this man and their mutual happiness. It wasn't said but it was decided, firmly taking as concrete of a form as a thought could, that he would love this beautiful soul back forever. It was a decision Ryden had unconsciously made a long while ago but now, it was so solidified that not even the end of all reality would change it.

So Ryden hugged Marsden and cried silently some more, compensating for all the years he hadn't let his emotions overtake him and let loose like this, for all the years he'd kept his eyes dry for unless it was for chopping onions. And when he finally began to pull slightly away, it was to rub his face dry awkwardly within still tight confines of Mars' arms, wishing to stay there but knowing that he couldn't and that he should eventually let go. "I love you so much, baby. Thank you. Thank you..." That was all he could think of saying, nose plugged and making words come out muffled but nonetheless true.

MARS

Mars clung to the man he held, desperate to crack open his ribs and squeeze the other man within them but since he could not he did the next best thing which was to return the bone crushing hug with his own, all the strength that he had in him spent on keeping them together. The shake of his head was a stiff movement, "Don't," he had his own sniffles against the obstructive emotions in his throat, "Don't thank me. She's yours. She's been yours for so long, even before this," there was more there too, a hidden we've been yours for so long. This wasn't even really a gift, not one that he could really give to the other man, more so a declaration, a promise and even Marsden felt this at the very root of his soul, that it would be him and Ryden forever, until the end of time, until the end of everything.

RYDEN

"No, I gotta thank ya, because... because..." He could not explain it, he wasn't articulate enough, literate enough or smart enough to do it, but he felt it so deeply. It was not gratitude, not exactly, definitely not any feeling or indebtedness or alike. What they had was so incredibly rare, so damn precious, a thing Ryden never thought he could achieve, a dream he felt he was too undeserving of and Marsden simply made it happen. He took him in, as a friend, as a confidant, as a lover, gave him a home, gave him a family and a place so perfectly accepting and loving to belong to. Gratefulness was an inadequate word to describe what Ryden felt for being presented with all this and being given with utmost trust something Marsden found more precious than life itself was the culmination of this life-altering thing they've been cultivating since the day they've met.

Ryden could not word it, but he felt it oh so deeply.

He rubbed furiously at his face, eyes red and bloodshot and a migraine creeping in, a consequence of a strong emotional outburst Ryden wasn't at all used to, at least not to one of this kind. "Where do I gotta sign? I wanna sign it right now. Ya got a pen?"

MARS

"I know. I love you," he kissed softly against any part of the werewolf he could reach, the side of his damp cheek, the line of his jaw. The siren didn't want the thanks but he understood it, the reason for expressing it, it was the same emotion he felt when even after every horrible thing he'd revealed of himself to Ryden the man hadn't pushed him aside, hadn't left, hadn't said this was too much to deal with, hadn't even judged him or questioned him and only accepted him wholeheartedly as he was. It meant the world to him, when they'd been in that tub with absolutely nothing between them and Ryden had only taken him into his arms and loved him instead. So Mars kissed him tenderly, fiercely wishing he could do more for the man who had already done everything.

He smiled, lips against a stubbled jaw that needed it's daily shave and sniffled as he nodded, "Yeah, yeah I'll get a pen," and he would get up to do that once they untangled from each other.

RYDEN

"Yeah, yeah... a pen. So I can sign." Ryden nodded decisively but even as he requested this, his tear-stained hands went up and cupped Mars face, now calm enough to deliver his own rainfall of kisses all over the siren's face. He could not explain it with words but he could show it. "We're a fam, luv. Triple threat, the three musketeers. We're a family, baby." His hoarse voice said in between sloppy wet kisses he planted all over Mars' face, letting him leave only after he made sure not a single inch of skin on it was left unkissed.

MARS

Laughter started to fall from the siren's mouth in between the raining kisses that landed on him, he tried to catch every one with his lips but missed many in the war of affection and so his whole face was graced with it and grew warm. "We're a family," he confirmed, flat of his forehead pressing against Ry's while his striking ocean blue eyes met the raining steel of Ryden’s and they each became like a cyclops and even two monsters like them could love each other. "You, me and Jelly Baby," the tip of his nose tenderly caressed the bridge of his, "I love you," he kissed the werewolf’s cupid bow, "Pen," he left the wolf with one more kiss before he finally rose up to perform this task. A pen was quick to find, one amid a collection of others at the kitchen counter next to some mail and a notepad used to jot down items for purchasing or other such notes or for the siren’s penchant for doodles so even the grocery list was decorated with random sketches.

Mars returned and held the pen out for Ry like it was made of gold and a very prominent item that was now being passed over to him. It was true for this pen, this signature would seal the deal. This was the moment and then all the was left would be to submit the documents with the city and it'd be official. Their family confirmed and forged but it would start here with this pen.

RYDEN

Ryden sighed deeply as their foreheads connected, a sound of such heartfelt relief that his entire being became light and liberated. Everything he had ever wanted was today confirmed with what Marsden was asking of him - they were a family, he had a family, Maria Elena was his daughter too and he loved and was loved. It was confirmed, accepted, welcomed and wanted, there was no more room for any doubt. Mars left him with none, not even a hair's breadth. And oh how he loved the other man for it.

Mars departed to get the pen ans Ry took a moment to rub his burning face with his palms, it was wet and scalding and puffy now, and his headache was getting worse but who the fuck cared about any of that.

He took the presented pen and fumbled through the papers, finding the right lines to note down his initials on. Settling the stack upon his thigh, he found his hand trembling more the closer the pen tip got and he huffed out a cleansing breath, giving his clammy forehead a quick wipe with the back of his wrist. Then he silently extended his other hand, palm upwards, asking for Mars' hand to hold while he did this.

MARS

The siren was quick to take hold of Ryden's hand once offered, his fingers easily and comfortably slotting between to find the spaces meant for him. Mars liked to pay special attention to his hand at times and today, right now would be no different. He turned the hand over once they were entwined and held his lips tenderly against the rocky terrain of battered knuckles that had lived a crueler life than this one.

This was an exhilarating moment and he marveled at the way his stomach started to flip inwardly and he too made his own quiet promise that felt definite and final, that he would love this man forever, until he took his last breath he would spend it all on his happiness, for him, he would do everything. "And now good morrow to our waking souls," the siren recited lowly, his words caressing their breath over the werewolf’s hand still held against his lips, "which watch not one another out of fear, for love, all love of other sights control, and make one small room an everywhere."

RYDEN

The moment Ryden felt the familiar shape of Mars' palm against his, and it was a shape Ryden would remember forever, whether he were blind in the dark or numb without any feeling in his fingertips, he felt instantly empowered, like he could scale impossible mountains, climb tallest walls, reach for the sky... As an extra boost, Mars reciting poetry even further emboldened the werewolf and there was nothing in this world that would ever not be okay, as long as he had Mars by his side holding his hand.

The ink was left on the paper, one sheet signed after another in order, the handwriting shaky and crooked because his fingers still trembled slighty, but there undeniably, sealing this. Ryden sighed out when the final paper was signed and looked back at the siren with a wide, toothy grin, which seemed out of place below red-rimmed, tear-wet eyes yet also perfectly belonging there. It was done, and nothing on heaven or earth would be able to reverse it in Ryden's mind. Whatever the future may hold, they will stay a family, the two will remain as his most important people, two precious treasures to cherish and love forever.

MARS

The grin now directed at the siren was unlike anything he'd ever seen on the werewolf's features before, broad and full of teeth, edges tight and exuding full joy while his eyes haloed with dampness and punctuated by adoration gleamed with platinum radiance. There were no precious metals more precious than the silver of those eyes and they were directed at him. It made the siren suddenly overcome and he couldn't stop the flow of movement now, he was a tidal wave, throwing his arms around the werewolf, encircling his neck with waves of kisses landing against the angular cliffside of the werewolf's jaw and tumbling down his neck, he blew bursts of air out against ever warm skin sprayed with love and exclaimed with absolute exuberance, "Let's go wake up our baby." What care he once had for her precious sleep cycle was now gone entirely. This was a moment worth celebrating together. "It's Christmas mornin'!" He exalted as he wiped any lingering traces of dampness from Ryden's face that he might have missed, as if to say they should cry no more and there was a life yet still to be living. "Merry Chrysler, my love, my dearest starshine," each declaration met with a nuzzling of his face against his.

RYDEN

His arms readily accepted the siren's landing between them, this throw of arms around his neck and yet another onslaught of affection and kisses sending Ry into a fit of laughter, impossible to keep at a low volume. It still held that trembling nervousness of too much adrenaline and emotion coursing through him like a swift river, but it was mostly pure, undiluted joy that set him off.

"A'ight." He agreed easily, curled fingers running through Mars' hair and making his Santa hat slide off, but he needed to bury his fingers in there, give the black dyed strands a possessive grip where they were getting longer at the back of Mars' head. "Merry Crisis, moonbeam." He nuzzled back, rubbing his nose against the other's.

@wolfontheloose

#para: ryden #we're a family baby!

5 notes · View notes

shutterbug-12 · 1 year

Text

TAG GAME: EIGHT SHOWS TO GET TO KNOW ME

Tagged by @santabarbara-skies, aaayyyy! I hardly get tagged so yaaaaaay!

Also this is kind of hard, but I’ll try (and like Em, I’m adding explanations, sort-of-kind-of, but not fancy formatting because I’m lazy).

The West Wing. Still my all-time favorite. Is it idealistic? Sure. Is it preachy sometimes? Yeah. But does it make my bleeding liberal heart glow and hopeful? You bet. Do I want to hug a pillow whenever someone says, “A guy falls in a hole...” or “What’s next?” or “Babies come with hats.” or “He loves teams, I love him so much” or almost-anything-CJ-or-Sam-says? Almost always. So, yeah, it’ll always top my list.

Psych. Burton Guster, my beloved. I started this show for two reasons: Dule Hill was in it and I just finished the West Wing and needed to keep that connection going; and it a Sherlock Holmes adaptation-sort-of, and I am basically on board for almost anything that is loosely modeled on Holmes. But I stayed for, oh, god, all of it. The two idiots at the center of it all, for Shawn and Juliet, for Lassie, for the bond between Lassie and Juliet, for everything. It is just an absolute delight, come on, son, jerk chicken, Pluto, suck it, meeeeeee, incarcerated in a blueberry, TT Showbiz, MC ClapYoHandz, I would rather fill-in-the-blank, pineapples, Banana as in Bananarama, you know that’s right.

Friends. Another one that’s definitely dated and contains plenty of sexist, fatphobic, homophobic, and other problematic content. But I have a huge soft spot for this show and would still be one of my desert island shows, if not my #1 desert island show, because it makes me laugh every. single. time. It’s not my favorite show, but it’s the one that makes me feel the most, I don’t know...home? Like I’m going back to this place that isn’t perfect, but somewhere I grew up and so it means a lot to me. And a lot of it really is still funny and adorable and heartwarming, you know?

Ripper Street. Another one that has Sherlock Holmes vibes, but also includes my favorite handsome man, Matthew Macfadyen. Plus, period drama goodness, with an excellent cast overall, great acting, good writing, and a great ending that’s bittersweet but fitting and satisfying. The character arcs are just fabulous. There are lots of hats and vests. And dry dark humor. And moments that will break your heart to pieces. But others that will give you life. Probably one of the most underrated shows on this whole list, if not the most underrated. Plus the fandom is (still) lovely. Seriously one of the nicest, best fandoms I’ve ever been a part of.

House MD. The one that started it all for me, and by “it all” I mean my leap into internet fandom communities. So it’s quite special to me. I was one of the only House/Stacy fans on the planet, I think, but that’s how it goes. And more importantly: the friends I made because of this show! The fics I wrote! (Eden in particular, still one of my favorites I’ve ever written for any fandom.) The fics I read! Plus the show itself is my cup of tea, being yet another Sherlock Holmes-esque (Holmes--Homes--House) story on this list. Hugh Laurie just kills it every damn time (although, much like Macfadyen, I just...can’t get used to and actually really hate his American voice/accent, just no, please stop, please just speak in your normal voice, please). The only downside is that it doesn’t have a ton of rewatch value for me, but maybe one day I’ll get back to it again.

Black Sails. Another awesome period drama that was/is criminally underrated and under-watched. This. Show. Y’all. If you haven’t seen it, just see it. It’s got everything. The characters, so deliciously flawed but sympathetic and layered! Jack my favorite sassy ratboi captain. Flint, everyone’s favorite murder husband. Tits! Fruit! Oh, the production value is gorgeous, the ladies are badass, and it’s just a romp. Watch it.

The Marvelous Mrs Maisel. Heeeey, another period piece, dramedy this time, though. And one of the more female-centric shows on my list. It’s hilarious, plain and simple. Jewish culture is everywhere in it, which I adore and appreciate. Tony Shalhoub as Abe Weissman and Alex Borstein as Susie Myerson are nothing short of brilliant in it. I love Lenny, but only because I love historical shows that weave in real people (I’m not a Lenny/Midge fan, sorry; I was rooting for Benjamin, even though I didn’t think it would pan out). I can’t wait to see how the series ends. I’ve loved every minute of it.

The Mindy Project. My guilty pleasure show, and I shouldn’t feel that guilty about it. A show about a successful doctor who struggles to find love and herself in the big city? Yes, please. It’s sweet. It’s absolutely hilarious. Mindy Kaling is so relatable sometimes it hurts (in a good way). I wish I had her entire wardrobe, it’s amazing. Even the supporting cast is adorable and endearing and you just want to hug all of them and tell them they’re doing great, sweeties. It’s a super-sweet pick-me-up show, just a joy.

And I tag...whoever. Here are a couple: @houseocats @olivelune @scienceoftheidiot @deelaundry @hondagirll

#the mindy project #ripper street #tmmm #the west wing #psych #house md #tv shows #my shows

27 notes · View notes

llyznotes · 2 years

Text

As of 01/12/2023, my fics will be written in 3rd POV, exceptions will be made through requests, drabbles, oneshot, and projects. Please do read my rules before interacting with me and my content.

tl;dr; i write stories solely because of manga; to convey the multitude of universes that floats about and around in my head in an art form i greatly adore. but i also do hope that my stories would be able to give comfort and place to people in need, a warm pillow to rest on and be cozy for as long as they need—something to look forward to when nothing else is worth looking forward to, but also something to give people strength when it's time to get back up.

who are you? ⎚-⎚

Good day!

You may call me Yuan, it means 'fate'. Also low-key wanna be called 【先生】 / Sensei which is a general honorific but are also used to addressed mangakas in Japan, it just really gives me that boost of energy whenever I hear it lol. I am born in the 04', and I am not a Japanese for those who think so!

what is the purpose of this blog?

A practice blog where I study, experiment, and hone my craft as a future professional mangaka, a space to train myself with my passions; future mangaka/manhwa artist/children storybook's author, etc. — to hone my creative skills such as illustrating and storytelling. I'm a terrible perfectionist as you see, so I try my best to let myself make mistakes without overthinking every single detail. You might see my stories having different writing styles at times but that's just me practicing, experimenting, and finding my own writing style someday so yea!

who do you write for?

K-pop groups are mostly my muses and the MCs for my works, mainly my fave ones; &TEAM and ENHYPEN. I do not represent the real them in my works, rather that they're the actors in my stories. Also, I may write for anime characters in the future but that's still under consideration.

love : koga yudai ♡ &team // muse : yang jungwon ♡ enhypen

what type of a writer am i?

i am a slow updater, it stems from three reasons:

1) i am a perfectionist in my craft; editing, rereading, and rewriting a dozen times till i'm satisfied, and with the determination that i will be able to be filled with pride once i hit the post button. (this doesn't include my practice drabbles/oneshots) but since this is a practice blog, i try my best to ignore my perfectionism habits.

2) i do not and i cannot focus one on one series/story, so you'll find me updating multiple series at the same time. i have to constantly refresh my brain with new materials when i got stuck in one story, and it goes on a loop.

3) i have a life. i am a student, i do not only focus on writing. any questions, please go ahead and read the main rules.

what genres/themes are my favourite and often explore?

mostly dark themes as i am a dark writer; yandere, dark fairytales, dolls - toys, maid cafes, jesters & clowns — circus & carnivals, orphanages/boarding schools, survival games, zombies, apocalypse and many more with the same vibes mentioned above. for more info, please go to the rules section.

9 notes · View notes

alltoolewis · 2 years

Text

10 reason's why I love you- Lewis Hamilton ✨

Trying to clear out my drafts & found this fluffiness in it... & because it's my faviourite human being I just had to finish it for this series! Hope you all enjoy it ✨

For anyone who hasn't read my series, this series includes 10 different scenarios and reasons why they love you! (Normally it's 12 but I want to write this series for other people & I am scared I'm going to run out of reasons lol!)

1:'I love the way I know you'll never give up on me'

Your heart broke as you watched his broken body walk through the garage, anger visible as he looked around, searching for Toto. "Why did you tell me to pit!" He yelled, throwing his helmet to the ground as he continued to scream at his team "I told you I was fine! I could have done it! I could have made it to the podium! But no you had to ignore me... and now I have to work even harder to get back to the fucking top!"

Toto's eyes searched for you, not having to say anything, you already knew what you had to do. Walking towards him, you took his reluctant hand in yours, gripping firmly as you walked him out of the crowded room, wanting a little bit of privacy as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You need to calm down sir..." You sigh as you run your fingers down his neck, something you knew from your 2 years of dating relaxed him.

"(y/n) I'm ti-" Lewis tried to pull apart, however, your stubborn arms only got tighter as you placed your lips to his. Relief filling your body as you felt him kiss you back, holding onto you as his life depended on it, only realising you as you pull apart, leaving your forehead on his as you caressed his cheek. "You are lewis flipping hamilton... you don't let one race define you or your season... it's not over yet. And you sir never give up on anything, and you're not going to start giving up now! I'm not letting you!"

It was that moment when lewis knew, win or lose this season, he had you in his corner. And that was much more honourable than some trophy..

2: 'I love how beautiful your eyes are'

He knew he was hooked the second he looked into your pale blue eyes. The way he could see every single emotion you hold, every shadow you see. The way they would light up as bright as the ocean when your happy, or they would dull too as dark as the midnight sky when you were mad. He knew that those were the eyes he wanted to see for the rest of his life, the eyes who would watch him get old, the eyes that would meet him at the bottom of the isle. You were is forever & he knew it from just one look in your eyes.

3: 'I love the way we cuddle and watch sunsets together'

"What's up, love?" you whispered, as you noticed lewis was already up, stood on the balcony in nothing but his shorts as he watched the early morning waves crash along the beach. "Why are you up already? it's only 5am..."

You knew he was so stressed lately, the recent battle for the championship getting to him as the seasons finish came to a near. Taking his silence as his answer, you slowly made your way towards him, grabbing one of many blankets as you drape it across his shoulders. Taking one of his hands, you drag him to your sun lounger, crawling on his lap as he rests his head in between your neck. Both of your bodies instantly relaxed as the only thing that could be heard was your steady breaths and the sound of waves gently crashing the shore. Both of you were content in each other's arms as you watched the new day begin, Lewis, watching you as the orange light lit up your eyes, how your hair moved along with the wind. Knowing as long as he's got you, he can manage anything.

4: 'I love how when I dream of my life partner, the only person I see is you'

"I had a dream last night..." Lewis whispered as traced circles on your bare back, pecking your head gently as you let out a tired 'hum' telling him to continue. "It was about a girl..." This seemed to get your attention as your head snapped up, squinting as the sunlit room hit your eyes.

"Who was she??" You whispered as you played with his loose curls, forgetting the number of times you have told him not to cut it. "Well..." Lewis started as he tilted your chin, looking deep into your tired eyes "She was about 5"2, tanned skin, loved wearing loose baggy Sunwear..." He chuckled as he felt your body tense, jealously rising in your body as he describes the girl in his dreams. "She had brown wavy hair down to her spine..." Lewis whispered as he ran his fingers down your hair, still knotted from the night before. "a cute button nose..." leaning down to leave a peck on your nose, a smirk growing on his face as he watched realisation hit you.

"Did she have blue eyes?" You asked as you kissed his neck "The most stunning pair of blue eyes you will ever see..." he whispered as he looked deep into your eyes "The type of eyes anyone would wish to look into for the rest of their life..."

"Okay stop it now your turning into a creep!" you giggled as you pushed him and his staring eyes away. Causing him to roll you over onto your back, straddling your body as he pulled you into a passionate kiss. "You are my dream girl (Y/n)!" he breathed out as he pulled away, "You run through my mind even when I'm asleep,,, I'm addicted to you.."

5: 'I love how our bodies just fit together"

The minute your bodies collided in felt like he found his missing piece, loving the way you would fit in his arms perfectly as he wrapped his arms around your petit frame. The way your hands would find each other like magnets, no matter where you were, from in public to in the kitchen making lunch together they would always find their way together. Your bodies were made for each other & now he has found the missing piece he was never gonna let go of it!

6: 'I love your thoughtfulness'

"Suprise" You yelled as Lewis appeared in the hotel, Huge 100 balloons floating in the air, as confetti and rose petals covered the floor. "Baby..." He chuckled as he made his way over to you, pulling you into his arms "You're so god damn cute!"

Pulling yourself out of his tight arms, you run into the 'kitchen' "That's not all!" You sang as you came back with a cake, the words 'We love you champ' written with a picture of you, Lewis & Roscoe after his win in Silverstone.

"You're so cute!" He chuckled as he pulled you towards him, ignoring your words of caution as he pulled you into a kiss. "Wouldn't have been able to do none of it without you..."

7: 'You found me. You actually did. I still don’t know how exactly it happened that we were right where we were meant to be at that exact time in our lives. But, I will be grateful for it forever'

He still couldn't explain how crazy it was that you stumbled into the garage one day! He loved having a story like yours, one that he could tell over and over again without missing a single thing! It happened one crazy day in Monaco. Your friends dragging you along on

He still couldn't get over the fact that if you never got lost that one day in Monaco and somehow ended up in the Mercedes garage he would of probably never met you. It was simply the perfect way God could have brought you to him... you didn't care about his money or status... his fame or his championships...you loved him for him & that was a rarity in a society where people looked past the person he was and just saw goldware... you were different...

8: "You want the best for me... always"

"I can't do this anymore..." Lewis sighed, throwing his down on top of the bed, his words causing you to panic a little as you looked up from the book you were reading "You want to break up..." You whispered, frowning slightly as Lewis looked back up at you in horror!

"What! No!..." He laughed, pulling you into his side, kissing your temple as he sighed "Your the least of my problems daring... you are not going anywhere..." "So what is it you can't do..." Tracing his tattoos, you instantly put him in a trance having to give him a little dig in the side for him to snap back to reality "Just everything... the car, the press, last season... I can't keep up with it all..."

Popping your head up you kissed his cheek gently, before nuzzling in his neck "You want to retire..." The question had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, both of yours, however, neither of you wanted to be the one to bring the obvious topic to light. "I don't know..." He sighed truthfully, tangling his fingers through your hair "Have I made a mistake not retiring? what do you think I should do..."

"Lew..." You knew he had read the comments that the particular f1 chief had said and the effect those types of comments have on his confidence despite them being totally false "I want what's best for you baby... & if that's leaving this season then I will support you to the moon and back... but" Once more you placed your head on his shoulder, causing him to look at you with nothing but love in his eyes "Your talented Lewis... a masterpiece that isn't even complete yet, don't let them tell you when it's complete!.." "Have I told you how much I love you..." Lewis smiled, attacking you with a bunch of small kisses causing the sound of your giggles to echo around the thin walls... the truth was he didn't know when his career was going to stop but as long as you were by his side... he didn't care!

9: "You are courageous..."

"C'mon Lew..." You yelled down the rocky cliff, where he was still struggling to get past the 2nd jump of stones "We haven't got all day Mr!" Lewis couldn't help but laugh in admiration as you reached the top, dropping your bag as you sat at the top of the cliff looking out the sea...

"Oh, how nice of you to join me, Mr Hamilton..." You playfully teased, patting the spot next to you "Come here... it's almost time..." Lewis joined you immediately, wrapping his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer as the waves crashed against the rocks... "How did you find this place..." Lewis whispered, not wanting to break the bliss that had now been created "I came up here by accident one day searching for my friend... stayed up here for hours until they started searching for me...! After that, I come up here it all the time... it became my safe place..." Looking over to him you smiled "& now it's ours..."

"Thank you, sweetness..." Lewis mumbled, placing his lips on yours... so lucky to be blessed with such a beautiful soul who was willing to do so much for him!... including sharing her special place!

10: "You made the first move... when I was scared to do it!.."

"Who had made the first move..." His mum asked cheekily, loving to her all of the wild stories about her little boy being in love! "I did!" You both spoke at the same time, causing you to roll your eyes!

"Lewis... stop messing!" you laughed, shaking your head "You were to scared to kiss me, so I had to take matters into my own hands!" Your statement caused his family to laugh, as Lewis's cheeks flushed bright red!

"Alright stop laughing..." Lewis groaned, kissing your cheek gently "Your going to be the death of me if you keep telling our secrets..." he whispered down your ear, causing a small smirk to appear on your lips... purposly waiting for him to walk into the other room until you spoke again!

"Carmen... I ever told you about the time Lewis accidently ate a dog tr-" "(Y/N)!)"

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #formula 1 #Mercedes #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 oneshot #lewis hamilton book #lewis hamilton one shot

475 notes · View notes

lacontroller1991 · 3 years

Text

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

479 notes · View notes

tamatojam · 4 years

Text

Okay I need to say this (feel free to disagree, it’s just my opinion!!)

Philza isn’t a bad dad. He’s a misguided one.

Think about it. Wilbur died? A few months ago? Which is not nearly enough time to grieve properly? Phil is probably only at about he anger stage at best.

So imagine your son snapping. You do your best to save him but it’s just to late, and then he begs you to kill him. His blood is on your hands, and you have to live with that.

You have to see his literal ghost. On the daily. And this ghost of your child, your pride and joy, says that he can only remember happy memories. And one of those memories is his death, and the fact that it was you who killed him. And you have to live with that.

And then there’s your youngest son. Who’s always had hope in his eyes and a fire in his heart, who’s always had this amazing ability to fight back and speak up.

And then one day that all changes.

You don’t know what happens, but you watch as your youngest son is banished from a nation he built with his barehands which is also one of the only things left of your dead son.

Something happens to him in that exile, and by the time he makes it to your home he’s subdued and paranoid and afraid.

He’s not who he used to be. But he gets better, maybe. He learns to trust your closest friend (or eldest son, if you wanna include Techno in the family dynamic) again. He gets some of his spark back.

So you send them off to complete a mission. To get the discs back, the one thing that might fully bring back your youngest child.

And then Technoblade comes home alone. Angry and defensive. Heart bleeding from the inside out because he’s a person, god damn it, and why can’t Tommy understand that?

Technoblade tells you that Tommy has once again sided with a government. Not just any government, but the government that exiled him. The government that drove your older son to madness and death.

Tommy has sided with the reason you have blood on your hands in the first place.

Technoblade asks you to destroy the government beyond repair.

And who are you to deny that opportunity?

The way you see it, destroying L’Manburg might be the only way to save Tommy. It already corrupted Wilbur, what’s to keep it from doing the same to your other child? You can’t stand the thought of having any more family blood on your hands.

So you team with two of the most powerful people on the server and you destroy it.

Your youngest child is resigned, but your dead child screams at you. He wails and cries, he tells you to be quiet and shames you for what you’ve done to the nation.

The nation that killed him.

All you can do is apologize, and say that he might understand one day. A few minutes later the ghost talks to you again, completely forgetting the disagreement. He asks you to bring him back to life.

You can do it, you know you can. You’ve been studying the ancient scriptures since the literal day after his death. Nothing, not even the impossibility of resurrection, is going to stop you from saving your child. Not this time.

(In the mean time, you rescue another scared child from emotional ruin, leading him out of a small dark room with writing on the walls. You couldn’t save Wilbur from that. Maybe you can save Ranboo.)

The day of the resurrection comes. You’re forced to relive the worst day of your life, twice. The ghost of your child is scared and hesitant. You put down your weapons and comfort him in a soft voice until he feels like he’s ready for the ritual.

And it doesn’t work. (Your youngest son is watching you fail.) But you won’t stop. (You’ve read the scriptures, you have one last plan.) You can save him. (Please, god, you just want to save him.)

You hunt down one of the rarest items in the world, a Totem. It reeks of death and dark magic, but if it can bring back your son than it will have been worth it.

You pray that it’s worth it. Because you don’t know what you’ll do if you can never hold your son again. You don’t know what you’ll do if one day your youngest son begs for you to kill him.

Those aren’t options you’re willing to let happen. Not on your watch.

Philza’s actions are misguided. He’s in unimaginable amounts of grief, and that sometimes makes it hard for him to understand what others need and want.

Everything he’s done has been to get Wilbur back, keep Tommy from following Wilbur’s path, and help Techno (either his oldest friend or eldest child) feel like something more than a weapon to be used.

He’s gone out of his way to give advice to and care for children that he reasonably shouldn’t feel the need to. (Tubbo, Ranboo, Fundy.)

He’s not perfect. Not by any means. Should he have destroyed L’Manburg? From an outward position, maybe not. But to him? It’s nothing more than a leech that took his children away from him, multiple times over. (Wilbur died three times due to L’Manburg and Tommy died twice.)

All he wants is to never have to hurt anyone he cares about ever again. This want has made him resistant to any ideas other than his own. It’s his guilt to bear and therefore his problem to fix.

Just because his labors are mostly off screen (Researching resurrection, planning L’Manburg’s destruction, etc.) doesn’t mean they aren’t there, or that they don’t have reasoning behind them.

He’s a parent that’s lost his family. Wouldn’t you do horrible things to avenge that? Wouldn’t you burn down the world just to give your children a bit of warmth?

(Again, these are just my thoughts!! I just wanted to explain why I’m a Philza apologist on one place :D you’re welcome to disagree!

This is also just about their characters on the Dream SMP, not the real life Content Creators.)

#dream smp #philza #villain wilbur #wilbur soot #dadza philza #tommy innit #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #character analysis #long post #ghostbur #mcyt #myctblr #i just care him a lot #free my man he didnt do anything wrong #tw death mention

2K notes · View notes

shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: swearing, mentions of mother abandonment

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Chapter 4

“You have a call from an inmate at the Washington D.C. Correctional Facility. To accept these charges, please press 1. To decline-,” you punched in the 1.

“Hey Spencer,” you greeted him.

“How did you know it was me?” he grinned.

“There’s not too many prisoners calling me, believe it or not,” you teased.

“I was calling to see if you could do me a big favor,” he spoke.

“What’s up?”

“My lawyer has told me that JJ told her my mom isn’t doing so well. She’s in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” he informed you.

“How can I help?” you asked.

“Could you bring Callie to go see her? I really think a familiar face could do a lot of good for her.”

“Of course, I’m 5 minutes away from her school. We can head right over,” you stated.

“Thank you so so much. Also, she doesn’t know I’m in prison so tell Callie just to tell her I’m away on a case. She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks,” Spencer explained.

“Will do. If you are able to stay on the line for a few more minutes, you can say hi to Callie,” you told him.

“I was the last in line so I should be able to. I’ve got 6 minutes left,” Spencer said.

A bit of an awkward silence filled your car.

“So…are there any more injuries I need to attend to before work tomorrow?” you asked.

“No, I’ve got some help,” Spencer spoke vaguely.

“Okay, that’s good, I guess,” you pulled the car to a stop as Callie hopped in the passenger seat, “Your dad is on the phone, Callie.”

“Hi Dad!” she greeted.

“Hey sweetheart. How’s it going?” he asked.

“Really good. At soccer practice today, Coach told me I’m going to be a starter next game,” she beamed.

“That’s amazing! I wish I could be there to see it,” Spencer frowned slightly.

“Which is why I bought a camcorder so I can record the whole game for you to watch later as well as other things you may be sad to miss,” you said.

“Y/N, as much as I appreciate all you do for us, you need to stop spending so much money. I feel bad, I’ll reimburse you as soon as I’m out.”

“Spencer, I’m a doctor who rarely goes out and my closest friend is a cat. I have some money to spare,” you assured him.

“Why are you going left here?” Callie asked as you made a turn that wasn’t on your usual route home.

“Your dad wants you to visit your Grandma,” you replied.

“Callie, she just needs a familiar face so talk to her about your new school, soccer, anything but me going to jail,” Spencer explained, “Okay, I have 30 seconds left. Bye, love you, sweetheart!”

“Bye, Dad! Love you too!”

“Stay safe!” you added.

You walked up to the receptionist's desk with Callie, “Hi, she’s here to see Diana Reid.”

“Hi Callie, long time no see! No Dr. Reid today?” she asked.

“No, he’s away on a case,” you smiled politely.

“Callie, she’s in her room, dear,” the receptionist directed you down the hall.

Once you were outside the door, you stopped, “I’ll wait out here. Remember, your dad is on a long case. You are staying with the LaMontagne’s. And just agree with the stuff she says to not upset her,” you reminded Callie, “I’ll be right out here when you’re done.”

Before you had a chance to sit down in the waiting room, the door swung open.

“Grandma!” Callie exclaimed.

“My dear Callie,” she hugged her.

She looked up at you, “Is this who I think it is?”

You thought back to Spencer’s words.

She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks.

“Um yes?” you answered.

“Callie’s mom! Oh my! I haven’t seen you in ages. I forgot what you even looked like, I remembered you differently. Forgive me, dear, could you remind me of your name?” she asked.

You looked to Callie for help but she looked just as confused as you and shrugged. She must not know either.

“Y/N,” you extended your hand for her to shake.

“What a beautiful name,” she smiled, “Come in! Come in!”

“So Callie, how has my favorite granddaughter been?” she asked.

“I’m your only grandchild, Grandma,” Callie playfully rolled her eyes, “I’ve been really well! Y/N-I mean Mom actually got me into a better school and I’ve been keeping busy with soccer and clubs and hanging out with friends.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! Y/N, how are you doing?” she turned to you.

Shit. What the fuck were you supposed to say?

“I’ve been well,” you simply stated with a nervous smile.

“Are you and Spencer dating again?”

I suppose you had to agree to this too.

“Yes, we are,” you nodded.

“Well, I hope you are back for good this time,” she stated.

That seemed kind of back-handed but maybe deserved, you didn’t know Callie’s mom’s backstory. You just continued to nervously smile through the rest of the visit as Callie caught up with her grandma.

“Well that was awkward,” you sighed as you got back into the car after the visit, “I need a milkshake.”

Callie was silent all the way to the drive-thru and as you ordered two large chocolate milkshakes and fries.

Finally, she spoke as you parked the car in the parking lot to eat, “I mean you’re more of a mom to me than my own mom. Dad never really told me much about her. She must have left when I was a baby because I don’t remember her at all.”

“I’m sure your dad has his reasons for not telling you but you must know that her leaving wasn’t your fault at all,” you told her.

“Who would leave a baby and my dad?” she teared up.

“I don’t know, honey,” you pulled her in for a hug, “It was her loss though whoever she is because she didn’t get to see what an amazing girl you have become.”

“Reid, visitor,” the guard called out.

Please let it be Callie and or Y/N, Spencer prayed.

He needed a ray of sunshine in his otherwise completely dark week. He didn’t want it to be the team or his lawyer asking if he remembered anything else because he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He slumped out of bed and let the guard cuff him on the way to the visitor room. His pace quickened when he saw you waiting there for him, just as beautiful as always.

You smiled at first when you saw him but it morphed into a frown when you saw fresh bruises forming.

“Spencer, I thought you said you had help,” you whispered.

“Apparently not all of the time,” he mumbled.

You bit your bottom lip worriedly, “Well, I brought my med kit.”

You got up and started to inspect his face.

“How did the visit with my mom go?” he asked.

“Good, I guess,” you replied.

“You guess?”

“She saw me before I went to the waiting room. I said yes to everything she said but that included her thinking that I was Callie’s mom and that we were dating,” you grimaced.

Spencer sighed, “Oh god.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do,” you apologized.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. You were just doing what was told. Did Callie have questions?”

You nodded.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair, “I knew this day would come but I’m still not prepared. I just avoid thinking about it at all costs.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it and maybe I can help you put the right words together,” you offered.

“Um okay, her name was Austin. I met her on a case. She was a bartender. We were long distance for a bit. She got pregnant early on in the relationship. We decided to try to make it work. She moved in with me in D.C. and had Callie. When Callie was about 4 months old, she got overwhelmed and just left…just like that. I went to the park with Callie and came back to find all of her things gone and a note that just said ‘sorry’. I haven’t heard from her since. We were trying to force a happy ending that wasn’t there,” Spencer finished.

“Well lucky for Callie, she has one amazing dad and that is more than enough,” you reassured him.

“And a pretty kick ass foster mom,” Spencer smiled.

“I try my best,” you grinned.

A/N: i have a smut one-shot (not related to this series) coming out tomorrow and i’m very excited about it

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana-deactivated20210709 @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme @nani-2305 @obsessivelysearching @fantasynerd09 @bvttercupbby @britishspidey @ladyravenclaw @belledawnidk @annesauriol @smokey102 @lady-himbo @kaitieskidmore1 @westanspencerreid @manuosorioh @haylaansmi @unhea1thy0bsessions @meganskane @lovergirl24 @queenariesofnarnia @asexual-booknerd @spideyyypeter @yeehawbitchs @emma-is-a-nerd @lellsinthesky @itsdars @aliahemmings97 @xdsage @cutekashi @theodore-likes-frogs @girlgotattitude448 @royalestrellas @co0chiegrip1

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #cm fic #cm fanfic

472 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part One)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Dreams turn into reality on smokey breaths. Inner turmoil melts away with the touch from warm skin. Promises make the evening decisions go from complicated to deliciously easy.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw soft drugs (marijuana)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 4421

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @cherricola66

***

Soft skin against his fingers. A hand running down his chest to his pants. Heavy breathing filling the room. The flesh underneath him felt warm and welcoming, hot to the touch and begging for more. Her perfume filled his senses as she pulled him close. Nails running down his back. Whispers of "amore mio, just like that", "keep going,” “cara mia, vita mia, please".

A “Dami, fuck” leaving her lips as his hand started gripping her thighs. Running between them, as she threw her head back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on it. Biting her neck. Coaxing more moans out of him, on a mission to make him lose his mind. She was heaven on earth. Supple breasts moving with every breath as he let his mouth descend on them, one at a time, desperate to consume all of her. Kissing every inch of her, exploring her until he knew about every curve, every ridge, every little spot of her body. He wanted to know all the secrets she ever had. Drawing noises out of her that he wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life. Her hands on his shoulders, on his back, on his arse. Pulling him further into her. Letting his mouth wander lower, getting wrapped up between her legs. She looked at him with dark eyes, nodding, and he was ready to suffocate in between her thighs.

Wait, was he actually suffocating on her thighs?

Damiano woke up with a start, face pressed deeply into the pillow, restricting his breathing in a way that was much less sexy than the one in his dream. A circle of drool had escaped his mouth and dropped onto the pillow. Well, that's embarrassing, he thought to himself.

He was in the middle of pushing himself up and out of bed, highly aware of the situation in his boxers - only to be interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. Trying to wrap the sheet around him, suddenly overly self-conscious of his state, he hastened to the door, almost tripping several times on the way. When he finally unlocked and opened it, he just about let his head appear in the opening, awkwardly hiding between the door still. Y/n’s face was painted in confusion. He forgot how stunning she really was, his brain not even coming close to painting her image in his dreams.

“Yes, hi, good morning, I’m up! I’ll be down in an hour!” He was rushing to finish his sentence, not giving her a chance to reply before he let the door fall back into its lock. A deep breath out. Her face instilled in his mind like a photograph, unable to be separated from the extremely vivid dream he’d just had. He felt bad. He had essentially slammed the door in her face while wrapped up in a bedsheet. Not a very good impression considering he liked the woman behind the door. This was going to be such a long day.

***

“Why are you so awkward?” Victoria nudged Damiano as they had settled on a couch on the bus. He had been looking off since she had first seen him that morning, which was odd. Especially considering he was usually more of an early bird than the rest of them. “Sleep badly? Bad dreams? Good dreams? Or did you scare Y/n away again with another morning wood incident.”

Damiano’s face burned up as if suddenly ignited, making Victoria gasp.

“Oh my god, did you?!” She smacked his chest with her hand as she let out a gasp.

“I wasn’t even aware you knew about the first time,” Damiano mumbled, slumping down deeper into the seat. Crawling into the shirt he was wearing. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Word travels fast on tour, you should know that by now,” she giggled, repositioning so she had her legs spread across his thighs. “So what happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” he scoffed. Victoria’s grin only spread further, though. She was loving this side of Damiano more than she would like to admit - shy, awkward, unsure of himself. He was one of the best people she knew, an amazing frontman, a talented musician, a loyal friend. Yet with one little addition to the team he had turned into a quivering mess.

“You know I’m just going to ask Y/n what happened, right?”

“Yeah good luck with that, she didn’t even notice. At least I hope not.”

“Wait - so you hid your boner from her? I mean, at least you didn’t traumatise her again. What happened though, did you have some good times before the wake-up call?” She once again nudged him obnoxiously, loving how uncomfortable she was making him. “Did you have a wet dream? Did- Oh my god, you’re blushing, you did have a wet dream! Tell me everything! Was it hot? Did she go down on you or something? Did you see her tits?”

“Fuck off Victoria, I’m not telling you anything, now stop! It’s no like-”

“Hi! Attention, everyone! I know it's early and everyone is probably still asleep. But - announcements! That includes you Thomas,” Y/n said pulling the curtain of the guitarist’s bunk back so he could listen too.

Victoria noticed how their assistant didn’t seem spooked by Damiano’s presence at all - it seemed like he had been right after all. She hadn’t noticed a thing. If only those two would stop playing cat and mouse and finally do something, anything, she thought.

"Now, I know we're all excited about going to Amsterdam today, and I'm not looking at anyone in particular here," she explained as she shot a pointed look at Damiano that no one missed. "But I have one ground rule: no weed before the show. You got tomorrow off, so whatever you do after the performance tonight is none of my business. But god help you if I find you with a joint in hand any time before that."

She smiled, but Victoria had no doubts she would be deadly serious if it came to it. Y/n passed out a map of the local area, highlighting the Leidseplein in the middle of town, and in red circles were the venue, the hotel they were staying at, restaurants, and several coffeeshops, all within easy walking distance.

“Do with that what you like,” she concluded. ”As long as you do it after the show.”

***

The band had gotten to the venue straight after lunch, excitedly discussing some new covers they were thinking about playing that night. Soundcheck consisted of a number of conversations all at once, trying to figure out how to change the setlist. Damiano found himself participating less, instead, staring down at Y/n sitting in the audience. She was busy writing in her notebook, the seats next to her taken up by her bag, folders, and laptop. He knew she needed a break. They all worked extremely hard all the time, so it wasn't difficult to spot the signs of a fellow overworked person. He made it his own personal mission to get her to go out with them that night. Spend some time outside of work, see the city, anything that made her put her phone down.

As day turned to night, the concert loomed on the horizon. As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear it was going to be a good night. Amsterdam was the best kind of crazy. Going from Zitti e Buoni into Billie Eilish's Bury a Friend, the crowd went wild. Damiano noticed with amusement that Y/n was absentmindedly dancing along from her spot on the side of the stage as well. His attention had only been diverted towards her for a second, he was sure, but it was enough to suddenly feel something hit his head. Soft, red fabric.

"Was wondering when the first of those would come around," Damiano chuckled into the microphone in between songs, swinging the bra around a few times, before draping it across his mic stand.

Yet as much as the energy of the audience rubbed off on the band, all of them felt like collapsing after the show, feeling like they'd given it more than their all. A perfect chance to unwind for the night, in a way only Amsterdam really knew how. It was legal, after all.

***

“I am absolutely not getting high with you lot.”

Everyone was gathered in Y/n’s hotel room more or less uninvited. It seemed like they were dying to drag her along on what was supposed to be one of the best nights out on that tour. After getting ready, they had simply stormed in as soon as she had opened her hotel door. Now they were perched on her bed, her desk, and her armchair, trying to convince her.

“I gave you all a map to see where you could go. I, for one, would like to stay in my room, just me and my bed, and sleep till my alarm in the morning. That sounds like a brilliant time in my book.”

“Boring!” Thomas shouted, hurling a pillow from the bed at her that she quickly caught and threw back with much less force.

“If you come out with us, we’ll be ready before your wake-up call for the rest of the week!” Victoria tried to bribe.

“If you come out with us, we’ll have breakfast ready for you every day!” Y/n shot a look at Thomas, knowing fully well this was not going to happen. The idea alone made her laugh.

“If you come out with us, you can keep me company while the other three go crazy?” Ethan finally offered. She knew she was close to giving in, no matter how wrong it seemed to blur the lines between working relationship and friendship. She barely even agreed to drinks when she was on the job, and technically, she considered herself to be on the job 24/7. Yet these four had grown close to her heart so much more than anticipated.

Out of nowhere Damiano appeared next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder. The way his fingertips brushed her neck as he did so left goosebumps. “Come on, darling, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

It turned out, that was all she had needed to hear.

***

The coffeeshop didn’t differ much from the usual pubs and bars; people stuffed in every corner, a low murmur of talk with the occasional loud laughter over the music playing in the background, tables full of glasses and bottles. Only the smoke lingering in the air, its distinct smell, and the relaxed atmosphere let on that it was a slightly different kind of place. Y/n made short work of weaseling through the crowd and securing a table at the far end of the place, just enough space to accommodate all of them, as the others went to order.

“Do you want one as well?” Damiano asked as soon as he had let himself fall onto the couch next to her, already preparing to roll a joint.

“I think I’m getting a second-hand high just sitting here. Maybe take a puff of one of yours, but I won't be able to finish one myself."

Damiano nodded, licking the inside of the blanks as he prepared his joint. Victoria came bouncing in like a tidal wave - her usual fashion - and crashing into the others already sitting down. As soon as Damiano was happy with his creation, she snatched it out of his hand, making short work of lighting it and taking a drag.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Make another one,” she grinned, obnoxiously blowing the smoke into his face. Rolling his eyes, Damiano quickly prepared another one for himself, everyone now happy and content with their smokes, until only Y/n was left holding at a glass of water.

She preferred to observe the scene from her little advantage point in the corner like she so often did. The mellow music in the background was loud enough to underline the atmosphere but quiet enough to easily talk to everyone around you without having to shout. She liked this much better than loud bars in the evening. Most people were minding their own business, in small groups or pairs, some on their own. Victoria was quick to start chatting to a pair of girls sitting at the table next to them. She wasn’t going to lie - while not her usual spot, she didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable.

A hand appeared in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere, and it took her a second to realise it was Damiano, trying to pass her his joint. She hesitated - still not convinced whether she should be smoking at all, but one look into his eyes only proved to her that she was weak to his suggestions. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she let him push the blunt between them, his fingertips grazing her. She took a drag, careful not to breathe in too much too quickly, before releasing the joint. Damiano pulled it back towards himself immediately, putting it back between his own lips, and she felt hypnotised. The moment came to an abrupt end when a cough took hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” Ethan soothed from the other side, his hand on her upper back. “Breathe.”

Everyone around the table seemed to be looking at her now, but she quickly got her composure back, holding up her hands in a gesture that was meant to signal she was fine.

“Fuck,” Y/n choked, taking a drink from her glass to wet her throat. “This is why I don’t smoke.”

“Wrong,” Thomas threw in. “This is because you don’t smoke!”

Y/n shook her head, giggling at the guitarist and the know-it-all look in his eyes.

“Up to try again?” Damiano whispered in her ear as the attention had finally ceased to be on her. She found herself staring into his eyes once again, a fluttery feeling erupting in her stomach at having him watch her so intently, at being able to capture his attention so easily.

The look on his face was enough to get her to try again. And again. And again.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but for once, she genuinely didn’t care. The people around them had changed, old ones leaving, new ones arriving, but the music stayed the same. She wasn’t quite sure what the joke Thomas was telling them was about, but she found herself giggling along nonetheless. This was the best she had felt in forever.

Unaware of what she was doing, she leaned back, finding Damiano’s arms carefully wrapping around her, holding her softly. To her own surprise, she was sinking into him.

“Having fun?” He asked in a voice so low she barely heard it. A voice so soft it made her heart melt. She nodded, slightly twisting around in his embrace to look at him again. She couldn’t get enough of his face. She’d stay and study it for all of eternity if he let her.

"Have you ever seen brown zircon?” She suddenly asked out of nowhere. “It's a gemstone that looks like they made sparkly salted caramel bonbons from rock. They mine it in Tanzania, I think? Your eyes sparkle just like that." She grinned at the man beside her. "I can attest to that from this angle at least. It’s like the one scene in Aladdin! 'She's got these eyes, and this hair and…’ Ah oh god, what am I doing?" She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. She found her face resting on his shoulder, completely content. His eyes never wavered from her face, listening closely to what she had to say.

Then Y/n watched her hand brush Damiano’s hair to the front, attempting to style it in a slightly different way. “Did you mean to look like Eren Yeager or was that some sort of subconscious coincidence? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course.”

“You watch Attack on Titan?” Dami looked down at her with surprise.

“No I don’t, but my friends do. So you learn the names of the people they yell at through the TV screen very quickly,” she laughed, remembering the way her friends would huddle in the living room, shouting at whatever the characters were doing wrong in their opinion.

“The more I get to know you, the more I’m convinced you’re my kinda woman, you know?” he mumbled, a smile grazing his lips. The more she looked at him, the more she felt her brain shutting off and her heart taking over. Or was it the high? She wasn’t interested in trying to differentiate.

Once again, he pushed the joint between her lips, holding the eye contact and it felt so much more intimate than it should have. It felt like her nerves were on fire. When he pulled his hand back again, she wanted to grab onto it, keep him in place, keep the moment.

I could stay in this forever, Y/n thought to herself.

"Also, I'm not religious by any means, but whatever God was responsible for creating you sure took their sweet time doing it…" The words spilled from her mouth before she realized she was talking, eyes flicking back and forth between his. "You know?"

She caught herself looking at his lips. A small blush grew on her face as she looked away. Staring out into the room, out at the people sitting next to them at other tables. Something distracting to take the rising heat off.

***

Damiano could feel his defenses wearing away. All ideas of staying away completely vanished into the smoke that lulled them in as he was holding her in his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He could feel her breathing, giggling at nothing at all, or maybe something Victoria had said but he hadn’t heard.

“If anyone’s been made by the angels, it’s you, amore,” he mumbled more to himself than anything, but she had heard him. Another chuckle running through her body. The atmosphere was fogging up his brain. He watched in amusement as he let a finger run up her arms, from her wrist to her upper arm where the fabric of her shirt began, and goosebumps appeared as if standing tall in a row. He tried it again on the other arm, getting the same result.

“What are you doing?”

She was turning around in his arms, just enough to look at him without removing herself from his embrace. He wondered if it was the dim light or if she was always this radiant. His hands travelled to the elastic that was holding her hair together and carefully removed it, eyes on her. Her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully in its typically wild manner.

“I…” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as the light of the bar reflected back at him through them. “I don’t know.”

He looked away, suddenly insecure. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, now less than ever. He wanted her. Wanted her all to himself. Wanted to keep holding her like this forever. There was no denying that.

“You’re sweet.”

Her voice took a second to get through to him, but as it did, he turned his head as if in slow motion. All he had wanted to do was look at her again, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her lips were on his.

***

All Y/n had done was lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Now their lips were meeting and she didn’t know how she had gotten there. She wanted to pull back - no, actually she didn’t. But she thought she should. Though the spirit was willin - to pull away, that was -, the flesh was weak. Delving deeper into his arms, she found herself kissing him like she meant it. Her hands found his chest, feeling the rising heat from his skin. Being closer to him than ever before was driving her crazy. His soft, warm lips against hers. Just the tiniest movements, as if he was afraid of breaking her. She let herself enjoy it. For a moment. That was all her brain allowed before switching back to the rational part. She pulled back in surprise.

She moved out of his embrace, stiffening at the contact. All of the twinkling lights of romance that had just appeared around them now popped as the kiss ended.

I just kissed my boss. I just fucking went and kissed Damiano! I am so, so fucked.

Yet, she couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss him again. And again, and again until they ran out of air to breathe. She looked back at him and the expression on his face said it all. His lids lowered, a small smile appearing on his face. Eyes twinkling in the soft light. He hadn’t wanted the kiss to end either. Either that or the weed was affecting him more than she had thought.

But as cold air started to seep in between them he blinked a couple of times, only now noticing that she had pulled away.

"Sorry - about that. I was trying to- I wasn't trying to kiss you. Well, I was - but not on the mouth. That would have been very forward of me. I would never. That's not me. I don't know how that happened - sorry." Y/n rambled on, unable to stop talking.

Damiano smirked, pecking her cheek. "Y/n, it's fine, you're fine. I turned my head and we kissed. It happens." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. As if this was some sort of common occurrence. As if she was panicking for nothing. Was she?

***

Damiano desperately tried to hide the turmoil inside of him. It happens?! Damiano, what the hell are you thinking! Not the right thing to say in this situation! Now it just looks like you’d kiss anyone, great. He looked down at his hands, fumbling with his rings. Trying to get his breathing back under control. He needed to be cool.

"I mean - not that I didn't enjoy it. You kiss good!"

You kiss good? What the? That wasn’t even English. He was well and truly losing his mind.

***

Y/n took a deep breath, sitting back in her seat, making sure not to be as close to Damiano as she had been before. Victoria and Thomas had migrated to get more drinks and Ethan was deeply entrenched in some conversation with a man next to him. Luckily the rest of the band hadn't seen what just happened. Grabbing her glass once more, the cold wet condensation gave a stark contrast to her warm skin.

The kiss still left a tingly feeling on her lips. Quickly looking at Damiano, she met his eyes. He had not looked away yet, it seemed. She watched as he bit his lip in contemplation. Whatever was playing on his mind, Y/n didn't know. His words left her believing he wasn’t quite as put together as he tried to pretend. He certainly wasn’t making much sense. Although, she wouldn’t dismiss his compliment of her kissing abilities. She wondered if he would think similarly if they did it again, or did more than that…

Her wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The culprit was quickly spotted. The middle of the coffeeshop, which had been empty of people until then, now had Thomas lying on his front, surrounded by liquid and broken glass.

Y/n didn’t hesitate, jumping up to offer her aid. The worry only lasted for a second though, until Thomas turned on his back, giggling maniacally. She barely managed to kick some shards out of the way before he could roll onto them.

She let out a deep sigh at the state of the guitarist, before quickly apologizing to the people at the bar.

“Everyone help me grab Thomas, I think this is our sign to call it a night.”

***

Y/n thought she’d have an easy time going to sleep. The effects of the joint were lingering, plus, the day had just been plain exhausting. Yet, as her head hit the pillow, she felt restless. Her mind kept circling around Damiano. The way he had looked at her. The way he had looked in general. She had seen him basically naked at this point, but she still thought about how it would be different up close and personal. She wished she had been able to read his eyes more. Had he been thinking about the same things she had? Had he wanted to kiss her again and again, get lost in that bubbling excitement of finally being close, finally let his hands wander to new places? She wanted to pull his hair. See what kind of sound would leave his mouth when doing so.

She wanted his hands and his lips, all of him really, badly. She wanted to know what he felt like when he really kissed her. What his fingers would be able to do to her. Biting and moaning. She desperately needed some release, wishing it would come from him, but knowing there was no chance, at least not tonight. Her hand wandered between her legs as she let her mind run wild. Imagining it was him instead, letting his fingers run along the inside of her thighs, exploring every inch of her. How he would treat her just right, hit all the right spots, do so much better than her own fingers ever could. The words he’d whisper in her ear, seducing her with his mother tongue, breath fanning her skin. How he would kiss her senseless. Feeling the rhythm of their bodies take over. Watch his tattoos start to glisten with a sheen of sweat from what they would be doing.

She found her release almost embarrassingly quickly, burying her face in her pillow. Her body felt more at ease, although her heart was still craving something more. She had almost calmed down, getting her breathing back under control. In a moment of clarity, she checked her phone to see when she had to wake up the next day, when the sound of a moan caught her attention. One that definitely wasn’t her own, but seemed to come from the room next door.

Damiano’s room.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

238 notes · View notes