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ventismacchiato · 1 year

Text

mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

scaramouche x g!n reader

established relationship, married, modern teacher au

2.7k words

a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.

“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.

“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.

“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kai writes — 📝#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin scaramouche #teacher scaramouche #genshin teacher

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sky-scribbles · 7 months

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Today I decided to take out the Bhaalist cultists on the top floor of Felogyr's Fireworks. I'd attempted this a couple of times only to be thwarted by game crashes, so I wasn't about to beat around the bush. I detach Astarion from the party and cast Greater Invisibility and Pass Without Trace on him. Then, like any responsible vampire spawn owner, I send him upstairs to his most enriching environment: a room full of oblivious cultists whom he can murderise with impunity.

As the bodies begin hitting the floor, the various guards and staff decide that the three adventurers loitering suspiciously on their landing are the source of the problem, and engage them in combat. As long as I remain focused on Astarion, however, who is upstairs gleefully stabbing cultists, the guards can do nothing but glower at my party, weapons drawn, in Faerun's most awkward staring contest.

At last, one of the cultists rolls high enough to see through Astarion's invisibility, and Astarion gets shunted into the initiative order with everyone else. At this point, Avery the fireworks boss comes running upstairs, sees his staff brawling with us, and decides the only way to save his business is Explosions.

He casts Fireball. Gale fails to Counterspell. My screen fills with fire and 'Object took 74 fire damage!' notifications. Grimly, I look to the party portraits to see who needs healing, and... no one has lost a single hit point. Bewildered, I swap to Astarion to see what's happening on the top floor, and everything begins to make sense.

BG3, I have noticed, gets a little confused if anyone casts an AOE spell in an area that has two overlapping elevations. Such as the landing and top floor of a fireworks shop. Sometimes, it will ignore the conveniently clustered trio of adventurers that were clearly Mr Fireworks' target and sail impossibly over their heads to strike the upper floor of his shop.

The only PC up there is Astarion. Astarion, the rogue with Evasion, who can negate all damage from explosions by succeeding a Dex save.

The upper floor is the fireworks laboratory.

As the camera focuses and the smoke clears from the chain reaction of detonating firework crates, Astarion stands untouched and triumphant amid a pile of smouldering corpses. The remaining cultists burn feebly at his feet. So do the few unlucky guards who had made it upstairs. Avery, understandably stricken at the realisation that he has murdered his own staff and is winning worst boss of the year, runs into the corner and stands facing the wall.

We take out the few remaining employees, and I instruct Astarion to begin looting bodies. Immediately, a Flaming Fist guard sprints through the door to the shop, dashes past the multiple lightning-struck, radiant-flame-scorched, elemental-fist-pulverised corpses now lining the stairs, past the blood-covered adventurers on the landing, and attempts to arrest Astarion for theft.

Astarion, with a dozen bodies crumbling to cinders behind him, insists that the vial of deadly poison he's clutching was his to begin with, and that he wouldn't have had to steal it back if the guard would just get better at her job. He rolls a natural 20 on deception. Chastened, the guard relents.

We exit the firework shop. Not a single hit point has been lost.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #this might be my favourite series of events so far.#sky plays bg3 #astarion #bg3 spoilers

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difficultdomains · 3 months

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suguru’s plan was a relaxing movie night - but you definitely had something else in mind…

what do you do when insomnia hits? exactly - make up scenarios with this man in your head (he my muse fr)

mdni - nsfw under the cut

————————————————————————

when it comes to movie nights, suguru and you mean absolute business. you’re doing it all - keeping lists, leaving letterboxd reviews and always preferring something new over a rewatch. once every couple weeks, however, a special rule you agreed upon comes into effect - comfort movies are rewatchable, at any given time and any number of times - no discussions, no veto.

so when he comes back to your apartment, sore and exhausted after a week that probably felt more akin to a month, you wrap yourselves into a blanket and huddle up on the couch with strategically placed snacks and his favourite movie queued on the big living room TV.

you keep sneaking looks at him throughout, intrigued by the way the flickering light dances across the bridge of his nose and his lips, by the way his eyes are fixed on the narrative unfolding in front of him even though you’re sure that he could recite the dialogues backwards if he had to.

you know that the only thing he probably wants right now is to relax. the only thing you want right now? him. so why not combine both?

you start your silent attack by repositioning yourself under the blanket, feigning that the comfortable position you were in has turned into one of discomfort and that the fact that your hand was now resting on his thigh was mere conincidence.

your fingers are subtle but restless and soon they inch closer and closer to the place you plan on conquering, ghosting over it, featherlight, not suspicious at all.

with his eyes still glued to the screen, he smirks knowingly. you turn to him, waiting with a lopsided grin.

you have him exactly where you want him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” taunting you, so sure of himself, so sure he knows what you’re up to. but when he sees the way you’re looking at him, his eyes widen.

before he can even register what’s about to befall him, you have already disappeared under the blanket, sweats pushed down and lips wrapping around the pretty tip of his barely half-hard dick.

he takes in a sharp breath, hissing your name through gritted teeth.

this was one of your favourite things to do, make him get hard just with your mouth. and he was very aware of your little preference, which only made it that much more enticing - and unfair - to him.

he pulls the blanket away, hand tangling in your hair solely to give him a better view of the spectacle in front of him. the sight alone makes him bite back a groan. but when you push down even further and have him hit the back of your throat, he loses complete control of the moan that escapes him and all the other ones that follow while you continue your skillful twirls and licks.

he’s beyond hard at this point, much to your silent satisfaction, and you’re not very suprised when you feel a gentle but firm grip on the back of your neck, pulling you away from him.

he crashes your lips together in a hungry kiss and when he pulls away, catching your chin in a similar grip like before, you can’t escape the intensity of his flared-up irises burning into yours.

“ride me.”

you raise a single perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

“please.”

you quickly find your place on his lap, lips instantly attaching to the flushed skin of his neck.

“hmm if you insist…” is the last thing you manage to hum against his skin before he captures you in another kiss.

mission accomplished.

————————————————————————

this is the first proper smutty thing i’ve ever written - so yay it’s a premiere. anyways i hope your hopefully well rested brain enjoyed this little drabble from my very sleep deprived one (pls excuse any errors - i am simply sending this out into the aether lul)

#noon.drabbles #noon.writes #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #geto smut #geto imagines #geto headcannons

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antiquatedplumbobs · 2 months

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Spring 1916

Will Sewell had always loved the outdoors: the smell of new grass and fresh turned earth; the sound of birds singing and waves lapping at the shore; the feel of the sun on his face and the earth underfoot. Since he’d begun spending time with Clara, he had always tried to share this love with her: walks by the inlet, a small piece of glass worn smooth by the sea, a posy of wildflowers that caught his eye.

Of all his haunts, Cavalier Cove was by far Will's favorite. The ocean lived up to its name here, crashing wildly against the rocks and when the sun hit the swells the dark ocean lit up in brilliant blues, greens, and every shade in between. And there, perched at the horizon was Deadgrass Isle, his mother's birthplace and home until she had left it to marry his father.

So on this special evening, Will had chosen Cavalier Cove to bring Clara to — for what better place was there for such a momentous occasion? The seagrass swayed merrily in the breeze as the couple picked their way to the shore. The setting sun threw the colors of the world into bright oranges and reds, and Clara, turning to look at him, looked cast in bronze in the light.

He took a deep breath, willing his heart to beat normally, and before he could think another thought, sank to one knee.

“Clara,” he said, lifting the small box. The ring glinted in the fading light. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He smiled up at her, feeling more sure than he ever had before, that this was the right choice — that Clara was the right choice.

The last touch of the sun was slipping behind the horizon, the golden light that had suffused the beach muting quickly to the deep blue of twilight. Clara was no longer gilded from the sun’s rays; the gloaming had thrown her face in shadow.

"I’m sorry... but no, I can’t accept right now.”

He blinked. The waves, which had been a gentle rumble, now deafened his ears. His knee hurt, there was something in the sand that was poking him. He blinked again, the words were wrong, not what he had expected at all.

He stood up jerkily, his cheeks burning, despite the chill of the breeze. She was speaking, apologies, platitudes, her hands fluttering, bright white in the twilight, like the wings of a seabird he thought idly. He offered her his arm mechanically; he felt her eyes on him, but he didn’t particularly want to look at her.

As he walked her home, the spring peepers were the only sounds besides their boots on the soft ground. For once, Will was glad of Clara’s quietness.

After leaving Clara at her kitchen door — still studiously ignoring her gaze — Will wandered, only taking note of his surroundings when he almost walked straight into the inlet. The moon hung low in the sky, and as it rose into the heavens Will felt his anger and embarrassment lift as well. He was left with a solitary emotion coursing through him like floodwaters in the spring: relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next / previous / first

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 decades challenge #decades challenge #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 story #sims 4 story #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #william sewell #sewell legacy #sewell 1910s

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keeksandgigz · 6 months

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roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

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estrellami-1 · 4 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Ok so I know I said I was leaving for a month but guess what… I have Wi-Fi, so I can post! Just don’t be surprised if I leave suddenly 😅 I don’t know that I’ll always have Wi-Fi or the time (or privacy) I’ll need to post. Thanks for understanding! 😊

Part 1 | . . . | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43

Steve takes her to the junkyard, where they both sit cross-legged on the hood of his car. “Remember what I said,” he murmurs, then points to a bus. “Imagine that bus is a bunch of demogorgons, or Vecna, or both. You have all these cars you can use.”

“Besides yours,” she says, and he laughs.

“Besides mine,” he agrees. “But you have all these other cars. What would you do? If everyone you care about is right behind you, scared, but ready to fight with their bare hands if they have to?”

She takes a breath, squints at the bus. Imagines a group of demogorgons instead. Feels something furl in her chest as she extends a hand. “No,” she says, with a firmness that almost surprises her.

With a flick of her hand—and less energy than she’d ever expended before—a car crashes into the front of the bus. It skids back a few yards. Three of her imagined demogorgons are gone, but there’s still a lot more.

Both hands out this time, and she yells as she slams two cars into the side of the bus at the same time. It flips over twice, belly-up, and she grins as the last of her imaginary foes melt to dust.

“That was great, El,” Steve says warmly. “How do you feel?”

She wipes the blood from her nose and takes stock. “Tired,” she admits. “But not as much as I usually am.”

“Do you want to practice more? Or be done for now?”

“I want food,” she finally decides. “Then more practice.”

Steve grins at her. “I brought some cereal bars, but I think what you just did deserves more than that. What’re you in the mood for?”

She hesitantly grins back. “Eggos?”

Steve laughs and slides off the hood, helping her off after. “Eggos it is,” he promises. “Or we could go to a restaurant and get you real waffles with chocolate chips and whipped cream.”

Her eyes widen. “We can do that?”

He ruffles her hair affectionately. “Sure can.”

Her knees buckle when she gets off the car, and she would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t been there to hold her up. “Whoa,” he says. “You alright, El?”

Everything suddenly seems harder than it should be. She takes a couple of deep breaths and shakes her head to clear it. “Alright,” she says, voice thinner than she’d like. “Just tired, I think.”

Steve hums. “Want to lay down in the back?”

“No. I will fall asleep and miss the time for waffles.”

“Well that’s the great part about it, is there is no time for waffles. Waffles are an anytime food.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I will lay down,” she finally agrees. “But you will wake me up when we are at the restaurant?”

He smiles at her. “Course I will, Ellie.”

She smiles as he helps her to the back. “Ellie. I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. More than Eleven. Maybe more than Jane.”

“Well,” Steve smiles, crouching in the doorway of the car and smiling up at her. He’s a little squinty, because the sun’s in his face, but El thinks that just makes it all the better. “Get some rest, Ellie. I’ll wake you for waffles.”

“Good,” she nods, laying down as he closes the door behind her.

She’s asleep before he rounds the car to his own door.

When Steve calls her name to rouse her, she notices the sun is significantly lower in the sky than it had been when she’d been practicing. She narrows her eyes at him. “You waited.”

“You needed the sleep,” he returns. “There’s still time for waffles. I figure we eat, head back, let you practice once more, then head home to rest before tomorrow.”

She swallows. “Tomorrow is it?”

Steve sighs before scrambling into the backseat to join her. “I don’t want to force you,” he says quietly, like he’s worried someone will hear them in the safety of his car. “If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. That’s fine. He may have his mind tricks but fire still burns him. Bullets can still hurt him. And we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he can’t hurt anyone ever again. If it has to be without you, then that’s fine. We’ll make do.”

She leans into him and closes her eyes as his arms come up to wrap around her. “I’m scared,” she admits. “I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want you to be scared, or Alli, or Will, or Barb. If I can help you not be scared… then I want to help.”

“It’s okay to be scared. If you weren’t scared, I’d be worried.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to keep being scared.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, Ellie. I know.”

She looks up at him. “Are we… like this? From when you are?”

He smiles down at her. “I think we’re getting there.”

She nuzzles back into him. “Can you adopt me? But as a sister?”

Steve pulls her in a little bit tighter. “Done.”

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #el hopper #Steve and el #el is a badass #I love her #Steve and el are siblings. fight me. you’re wrong #fix it fic #time travel fic #time travel fix it fic #time travel fix it #time travel #fix it #how do I tag #years of being on this hellsite and I still have no idea #starambles

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m-jelly · 3 months

Note

Hi 🤗 Ma I ask for a vampire Levixhuman Levi ANGST love story where Levi's hurt & reader tries to save him? Happy ending please 🥺

Breaking the keeper.

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, vampire Levi, human reader, hurt Levi, slight angst, fluff, romance, being a couple.

Levi wants forever with you, but the Queen of the Vampires doesn't want to let Levi go or make a human a vampire. Levi is left with no choice and kills the Queen but at a price to his health. Returning to you on the cusp of death, you do everything you can to get Levi to live.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Silver burned Levi's skin as wounds failed to heal. Everything hurt in his broken and battered body. The Queen had ripped him to pieces before he held the last bit of her life in his hands. With the last bit of strength left in him, he tore her head off from her shoulders and stopped her from feeding on him.

Her head hit the floor with a loud thud and then a stomach-churning squelch from the blood and skin. Exhaustion washed over him as his skin started to become charred in places. He was in desperate need of blood otherwise he was going to die.

With the last bit of his energy, he used his speed to race home to you. It all gave out as soon as he reached your home. His broken body broke through your front door and crumbled to your floor. No matter how much he fought his body, he was tired.

As he lay there bleeding out he mumbled your name hoping you would return to him. He wanted to see you just one last time. He wanted to hold you so desperately. The love you gave him was so healing to him and he needed it more than ever.

You waved goodbye to your friend after she dropped you off. Something had felt off so you asked to be dropped off early from your shopping trip. The concern you had was correct because when you walked up to your home you saw the door was broken open, blood was all over your floor.

You moved as cautiously as possible into your home and found Levi lying on it in a pool of blood, his ski was turning to ash and he was barely breathing. You dropped your bags and ran to your heater fridge. You grabbed four bags of blood and raced back to your man.

Levi mumbled your name. "You're here."

You dropped to your knees and shifted him onto your lap. "I'm here, my darling, I'm here."

"I'm glad...I saw you...in my last...moments."

You ripped open the tab on the blood pack. "You are NOT dying on me today. You promised me forever. We're not done." You moved his head. "Now you better drink every drop of his blood and some of mine or I'll be so mad at you."

Levi flinched when he felt your tears hitting your face. "Love."

"I'm warning you!" You sniffed. "I am!"

He opened his mouth and started drinking. He gulped and sucked everything he could until the blood was gone, but he could feel it wasn't enough. He gasped and before he could speak you had shoved the next between his lips. He kept drinking until all four packs were gone and his skin was now healing.

You shifted your hair and moved Levi up to your neck. "Drink."

He opened his mouth and pierced your skin. He moaned as your blood flooded into his mouth and made him stronger by the second. He pulled back before he took it too far and gazed at you as you sniffed back tears.

You gazed at Levi and hummed. "You look like yourself again. Do you feel better?"

He studied his healing hands and sighed. "A lot better." He sat up and cracked his neck. "I'll drink more from the heater."

"Good."

He wiped your tears away. "Forgive me for scaring you and making you think I was dying. I was, but you saved me. I'm so lucky to have you in my life."

You sniffed a little before crashing your lips against his. "I love you, Levi."

"I love you so much." He tapped his forehead against yours. "The Queen is dead. We can forever be together. I will make you my vampire bride and we'll have eternity, please just wait a bit for me to heal."

You hugged Levi tightly. "I'm happy to wait. You are worth it."

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tainted-red · 1 year

Text

Best friends.

TWS: N0n c0n, Best friend kink, Gr0ping, Sleepy reader, Drunk reader.

Summary: Rafe is the reader best friend, Rafe swears to keep the reader safe. Little does she know…

Y/n and Rafe cameron were a package deal.

Rafe protects Y/n from random boys and Y/n protects Rafe from doing stupid stuff.

Yet Rafe encourages Y/n To do stupid shit, that's exactly what he is doing right now.

“C’mon Y/n. Just a couple more rounds. I promise I'll protect you” Rafe begs Y/n.

“Fine but say it with a smile” Y/n teased.

Rafe smiles at her “Pretty please. With a cherry on top” Rafe mocks.

Y/n lightly pushes his head. He dramatically stumbled back.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around y/n’s shoulder. Guiding her to get more drinks from the stupid party ‘bar’.

“Four shots” Rafe clicks “Alright” Topper sighs.

The alcohol really starting to kick into y/n’s system.

“Alright, pretty lady” Rafe bites his lip, getting y/n drunker and drunker.

She picks up the shot and shoots it down her throat, “Wow, didn't even wait for me” Rafe jokes.

He then takes the shot “Last one” Rafe seethed.

They both grab your shot but wrap your arm around each others.

Letting the burning liquid go down there stomachs. Leaving a warm feeling wherever it ends up.

“Aright, let's dance” Y/n slurred to Rafe.

(Rafe point of view, now)

I smirked at the drunk sight of my innocent friend.

We go over to the dance floor, and y/n starts to sway her hips without a care in the world.

Suddenly a random pogue starts to flirt with her, I wait until it gets ugly. She starts to yell at him.

He grabs onto her wrist, I step closer to the two “Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her” I clench my jaw.

“What are you gonna do ‘bout it, get daddy to get a hitman” The pogue jokes.

“No. I'll cut your hands off and shove it up your ass. Keep your hands off her” I spit, pushing him back.

“You're not worth it” The pogue rolls his eyes and walks away.

I run up and wrap my arms around y/n “He's gone” I whisper in her ear. Calming her.

“Can we leave Rafe, I don't feel good” Y/n begs, falling into my arms.

“Of course. We're going to my place though” I inform her while picking her up bridal style.

“Rafe, I'm gonna pass out” Y/n slurs.

“Don't worry I got you y/n” I calm her.

I place her in the back of my car.

Once I'm in I drive to my house. There wasn't much traffic considering it was 2 am.

“Rafeeeee, I'm tired. Crash the car I don't feel a thing” Y/n slurs once again.

“You can sleep in my bed,” I tell her.

“Like always” She giggles.

We arrive at my house, and I pick her up in my arms “Careful” I groan as she tugs on the back of my shirt, choking me.

“Sorry Rafey” She mocks my name while laughing adorably.

“It's alright y/n/n” I grin down at her.

Tossing her on my bed.

“Come cuddle me” Y/n cries.

“Okay but you need to sleep this off. Better not throw up on me” I joke.

I sit on the bed and she puts her head on my lap. Her dress rides up the thighs. I stroke her hair.

“Can you put on a show?” She asks quietly and shyly.

“Of course” I sigh.

Grabbing my remote and putting on icarly “Yes. I love you thank you” She smiles, focusing on the show.

I slowly slide her dress all the way up. She's clearly out of it.

She starts to laugh at the show, something about Gibby asking for cash when he would get zero dollars for whatever he was selling.

I pull her graze my hand over her clit, her thighs tensing up.

She slowly drifts off into a somewhat sleeping state.

I make it worth my while by pushing her off me softly. And taking her dress off.

She wasn't wearing a bra so I got a perfect view of her beautiful body.

The only thing covering her body was a black thong.

I take it off and pull down my shorts and boxers.

Lining myself over her slit.

Massaging her boobs slowly.

I push myself into her. I felt her body tense up.

I throw my head back In pleasure.

Slamming into her at a steady but quick pace.

Praying she wouldn't wake up.

I felt my stomach tighten, I groan and let my liquid fill her up.

I pull up my shorts and get a rag and a shirt of mine.

When I got back she was awake, “what's going on,” She asks while looking down at her naked body.

“You kinda threw up all over yourself” I grin.

I wipe her vagina and then threw the rag. So lucky she couldn't feel a thing.

“Cmon sit up” I bite my lip trying to put her shirt on her.

“I don't feel good-” her mouth fills with barf. I bring her to the washroom and hold her hair back.

I rub her back as she left lets it all out.

Once she's down I wipe her mouth with a clindex.

“Thank you, Rafe. Gosh, what would I do without you” She giggles.

“Probably be covered in vomit” I joke (ish).

She fake laughs, I kiss her head and laugh.

“Time to sleep” I decided.

I throw her over my shoulder. Making her laugh even harder.

I gently place her down on the bed.

We both lay down and I throw my arm over her waist.

#rafe outer banks #obx smut #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe smut #billy loomis #drew starkey #jj maybank #rafe angst #scream 2022 #smut visuals #topper thorton smut #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe imagine

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lavandula-ipsum · 3 months

Text

The rain will hide us

gif by @tatooineknights

Summary: Stranded on an unkown planet, you've fallen sick. Thankfully, Luke is there with you. However, you might not be the only one in need of care.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Tags: Luke Skywalker x GN!Reader, force sensitive reader, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, one-shot. Angst somehow got in.

The paleness of the morning starts to filtrate through the tent, drawing the dark little spots left by quiet raindrops. Their clatter serves as a gentle wake up call while, outside, an unexplored jungle sleeps.

“How are you feeling?” Before you can even shift in your sleeping bag, Luke has already turned his attention to you, lying a kind hand on your shoulder. For a second, you miss the times when you could have just watched him for a couple of minutes before choosing to signal that you’re awake.

Truth is you feel like shit. A trash compactor could have chewed and spit you out while you were unconscious for all you know. At the effort of answering his question, a raspy whine leaves your sore throat. “Better.”

He’s sitting next to you, not very convinced. There’s urgency tingling the tips of his fingers, you can feel it through the Force. “Is it okay if I check?”

An almost imperceptible shivery note haunts his voice. In the dark circles under his eyes you can sense a long and rough night. You nod. Even though you can feel the last remnants of sickness haven't completely faded from your exhausted body, the back of his hand is warm against your burning cheek and forehead. With an alleviated sigh, Luke finally lets his hand slide down your arm.

“You still have a fever, but it isn’t as high anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Do you remember the crash?”

“A little. I remember the battle, the evacuation when the ship went down.” The mission you embarked on seems to have failed spectacularly. You try to sweep away the thoughts of your fallen comrades, at least till you get back and get to know for sure how many of them are actually gone. “We got into the same escape pod and… this atmosphere messed with the navigation systems, I guess.” You grumble, rubbing the side of your head. “Why don’t I remember much after that?”

“You were trapped in the wreckage for a few minutes. I couldn’t take you out earlier. (Y/N), I’m so sorry. You got some cuts and superficial burns. Perhaps a broken rib.” Oh, so that’s what the bandages are for. And probably why you’ve been stripped down to your standard issue underwear. Suddenly, Luke avoids your gaze and an uncomfortable ripple flutters through the Force, but you’re too distracted frowning at the new scratch across his cheek.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. But you… You were feverish the whole night.” He continues, bringing the med kit closer to show you a box of painkillers, an empty stim canister, an open tube of pomade, anxious to let you know everything he gave you while you were unconscious.

“It’s ok.” You set your hand over his to stop his nervous tinkering through the med kit. “I trust you, Luke. How many times have we done this? Tell me, what happened next?”

He licks his lips, then looks down at his hands. “You became really sick.”

“I’m sorry. I must have scared you. This is all my fault.” You groan before he can start giving you a thousand reasons why it isn’t. “It really is. I knew I was already sick before the mission. It was just a cold two days ago, but I guess it made me more vulnerable to whatever I caught here.”

Luke shifts closer to you, suddenly alarmed. “Why did you come to this mission then? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You remember those agonizing moments when he didn’t show up at the rendezvous point after the battle of Hoth, gone to Force knows where, while you were left alone wondering if he’d been killed. Turns out he’d just left on his own. It’s not as if he owed you any explanation, you were merely friends. He's fated to go out there and do things so far greater than anything having to do with you. So you tried to slap yourself out of this silly anxiety. After all, the others were gone with the Falcon too, and you had to resign yourself to the faith that they'd be alright.

And then Luke came back, his body battered and his spirit broken worse than you’d ever seen before or since.

Shyly, you slide your fingers out of your cover. He quickly holds them in between his palms. You’re sure the sky outside the tent would pale in comparison with the intensity of his tired gaze right now, glassy and blue. And yet, all you manage to conjure in response is a lie.

“I wanted to feel useful. The Rebellion needs all the hands it can get.”

If he realizes, he doesn’t say anything. He just leans in to warm your cold hand with his breath. Luke might not be a full Jedi just yet, but he can probably sense how tired you are of this game of claiming guilt for everything, of just rambling around the edges of what neither of you feel brave enough to say. He just knows you that inescapably well.

For now, the tent has become quiet, so quiet you can even hear him swallow. After a second of allowing yourself to stare at the muscles of his neck tense up and relax with the motion, you look down and sink your flaming face into the sleeping bag.

Against his advice, you sit up. The chill bites your exposed skin, setting a feverish tremor within your chest. However, you don’t let him make you settle back into the bedding.

“Can I say something without it turning into another exchange of apologies?” you ask. Noticing your sudden eagerness, he nods. However, his hands remain close, as if you were about to collapse. “Thank you for saving my life. Truly.”

He seems about to reply with some excuse, probably minimizing himself once again, but you raise a warning finger along with a threatening expression. It makes him laugh, brighter than he’s laughed in months. It lasts too little for your taste, but at least the smile lingers on his face.

“Ok, you win this one. Now, that pomade needs to be reapplied.”

After taking a panicked second to realize what he’s asking, you turn slightly so he can get better access to the burn, which covers the back of your shoulder and part of your right arm. Luke scooches closer till you’re basically sitting between his legs. You wonder if he notices his warmth setting you aflame, but he seems too busy readying the ointment to even look at you, his eyes half hidden under soft locks of weathered gold. However, a loaded silence falls in the tent, during which you feel the urge to cover your front with the sleeping bag.

“It’s gonna feel a little cold,” he warns before touching you, his voice barely audible.

You had already made up your mind to behave and not show any sign of discomfort, but you need to turn away to hide your face. Honestly, you’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the surreal ambience around you, but you swear you’ve never been treated by gentler hands. As they work to spread the medicine, you hold yourself together barely enough to not just let go and plop yourself on his lap. You feel beyond beaten, and over your head a thick cloud keeps your judgment in a state of relaxed lethargy. Truth is his welcoming stance, along with the way his fingers caress your tender skin as he softly talks you through the process, isn’t helping your already lazy resolve.

“I’m so glad, it doesn’t seem like it got infected. I think there’s a chance it won’t leave a scar once we can get you proper treatment back in the fleet.”

You hum half heartedly in response, doing your best to join in the effort to evade the silence instead of entertaining the thought that you don’t actually want to go back. Because he wouldn’t be with you then. Luke has been avoiding the fleet since Bespin, and you've made up your mind to follow him for as long as he wants you around.

“Have you been awake the whole night? Meditating?”

“Not meditating. Standing guard.”

When he finishes up your new bandages, you hear the rustling of knots coming undone and, right after, you’re covered with Luke’s outer robe. Apparently, your top had to be cut off your body when he first tended to your wounds. As he helps drape the garment around your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves careful to not graze your wounds, the warmth it still bears surrounds you. Ah, it smells like him too.

Luke seems ready to offer an excuse to quiet your concerns over his lack of sleep, but it fizzles out before your demanding frown. A pained flare crosses behind his eyes as his Force signature heats up around you. He doesn’t mean to leave you out of his thoughts, he truly doesn’t. It’s just that lately they’ve been a mess not even he has felt ready to untangle. And, if he’s not ready to talk, you won’t push him. However, this silence is a little needle to your heart, and the jab reaches him when it becomes too painful for you to hide.

“I tried to meditate until I had to give up. I couldn’t find the peace for it. You were trembling and twisting in your sleep, burning with fever… mumbling things.”

“Were they embarrassing?” you joke, trying to lift the mood a little. However, instead of following you down that path, you feel a little tug. He’s lightly pulling at the edge of your sleeve, well, his.

“Don’t leave me. Please, stay.”

The pressure around your wrist makes it sound like an apology. Why? For letting you fall sick? For leaving you behind and going to Dagobah on his own? You’re getting tired of riddles, and you’re already trembling from the effort of sitting up straight. Your hand lands on his shoulder, a gesture that seems to finally break him out of his spiraling thoughts and look at you.

“And you did. You stayed.”

An exhalation later, you’re buried in his chest. It’s hard to tell who initiated the hug when you’re enthralled by how melting into each other makes everything else melt away. Luke’s hands travel down your hair, and you wonder when taking in this soothing became as easy as breathing. Well, not exactly. There needs to be a spell, a certain quietness to the air like the one flooding the tent right now. Melancholy is usually the trigger, the signature to the wordless contract between the two of you that grants you permission to indulge in this kind of comfort. Later you’d usually dream awake about it, lost in the memory of what feels forbidden during the daylight. It aches a little that at least one of you needs to be in some kind of pain to feel allowed this kind of intimacy.

A sigh brushes against your ear as Luke barely dares to talk in a whisper. “What if I can’t do this?”

“Don’t worry, the Rebellion knows we’re here, we’ll be out of here in no time…”

“Not that. It’s about-” The words get lost as they’re spilled from his lips. Luke lets out a shaky breath before sinking deeper into your hair. “Everything.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You always do.”

“And listen, I truly believe there’s a special path ahead of you. A bright one. However, no matter what happens, even if things go wrong, I’ll be here. I mean- we all will. We’ll love you all the same.”

You nuzzle up closer against him, prompting a pleased sigh out of him.

“I’ve been leaning on you too much.”

You chuckle, “how so? You just saved me in, like, five different ways just during the last twelve hours.”

“What you do is way more difficult.”

A hand cradles your head close to his chest, while his other arm surrounds you. And, as the silence settles once again, you finally feel him relax around you as your hands travel up his back. Through his thin inner tunic, the heartbeat pressed against your cheek allows itself to slow down a little.

“You take a nap now. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re hurt,” he complains. “And sick.”

“I’ll have a blaster at hand and wake you up as soon as I hear anything outside, I swear.” You hush him before he can complain. “Do I need you to remind you of your instruction, commander? If you don’t rest you’ll compromise the mission.”

“And what mission is that?”

“Get back to base, safe and sound. And stick together until then.”

Luke brushes your cheek with his thumb, as if to check again if your fever has gone down enough to leave the task to you. “Yeah, I might be able to do that.”

So you get back in the sleeping bag so as to not get cold, and he lays down over it next to you. He does so a bit skittish at first, so you interlock his fingers with yours and guide him down to the most comfortable spot, next to you. Soon, exhaustion defeats any remaining fear and Luke feels brave enough to wrap an arm around you. Soon, sleep has taken him.With your heart coming to a halt, you finally dare to take in his features. Even though a shadow of worry still darkens his brow, his features look softer than you’ve seen lately. It takes you back to those early days in the Rebellion when you weren’t nearly as close, but talking seemed easier. So you stay awake, treasuring every deep breath and the faint rainfall in the background, until the distant buzz of the Millennium Falcon fades the spell away.

link to the source gifset

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #gn reader #hurt/comfort #yearning and longing #one shot #f/o #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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panda-writes-kpop · 3 months

Text

the dreadful need in the devotee ~ lee gahyeon

a/n: sorry for all my international folks, I know I'm late (curse you comp sci homework for taking hours to complete) but happy Gahyeon day!! here's your daily dose of existensial dread and sadness in case you haven't felt that way recently :] (all jokes, but apparently I was in my feels when I wrote this)

tw: fluff to sadness, main character death, car accident, some religious elements, we almost got a happy ending folks

acknowledgements: inspired by hozier's talk and the pjo series on Disney plus!

word count: 2.8k

summary: a recollection of the five times you couldn't look at Gahyeon and the one time you did, but it's staged during a modern retelling of one of my favorite greek myths of all time (5+1 trope my beloved <3)

♡ Masterlist ♡

As the burning taste of alcohol travels down your throat, you think about why you’re here on a Wednesday night.

Here wasn’t home, the place you most often were found. Home was your paradise, your inspiration for your work - but you had been in a rut lately. Nothing seemed to spark your creativity, not even a hot drink and a warm bath would do.

So you wandered down the street, hoping to find something that would make you and your work feel alive again. Instead, the couples you passed on the street only chose to dig at a wound that you had covered with the patchwork of self-isolation.

Since tonight was an utter failure, much like most nights this month, you turned to the one thing that made everything a little better - booze. A drink sounded nice, especially as the last couple you passed discussed their wedding and future together.

You slid into the first bar that you found that was not too far from your apartment. Five blocks was a new record for you, considering that every store you needed was only two or three blocks from your apartment. Maybe you’d print out a certificate so you’d have some marker of success to hang on your wall.

World’s Most Introverted Person Travels Two Blocks Farther Than Usual!

You need another hobby besides drinking and bad jokes.

You’d turn to art, but blank pages and screens peek out at you from every corner of your apartment. That wasn’t an option, and you had already used all your daily wanderlust to find a bar, so drinking would have to do.

It wasn’t like the bar was busy or anything - weeknight traffic was slow, especially on Wednesday. You were sitting at the bar, making occasional idle chatter with the bartender and another patron who seemed to be in a worse state of despair than you.

You were fine in your bubble, and it wasn’t like anything would pop it any time soon-

Then you see her.

Your eyes landed on a group of girls sitting in a corner, but the girl that draws your attention is everything you had imagined and so much more. With bright pink hair, it was impossible to see anything but here.

She was a beautiful white lily among the tall grass, a sweet melody floated over syncopated beats. She was the sun, and you were a comet that was about to crash into her orbit. She was everything, and you were nothing.

…And she was looking right at you.

Fuuuuuck.

You immediately look away when she bounces up to you - she’s probably going to talk to that other person, right?

You couldn’t look her in the eyes, even when she, in all of her beautiful glory, was right in front of you.

“Do you want to join us for drinks?” Her eyes are inviting as she holds her hand out to you.

You try to find a reason to say no, but she sparks something within you. Something warm and kind, buried under the safety blanket that you wrapped your heart in.

She wasn’t your inspiration, not yet, at least. A muse, perhaps?

Whatever divine intervention brought you together was well needed.

Even though you couldn’t look her in the eyes until you were both drunk enough to forget everything but each other.

Gahyeon, her name was.

Even though the headache fucking sucked (but was so worth it, considering the extra phone number in your contacts), things started to look up for you. You could actually produce art, which meant that you could pay your landlord on time.

Your apartment was a mess while you were in a funk - a proper decluttering was in order. If you weren’t inspired to do art, you definitely weren’t inspired to do household chores. You shudder as your mother’s voice reprimands you about keeping your place tidy.

Perhaps sending proof of life would get her voice out of your head. Yet again, she’d probably call you and then want to visit, which would make things worse.

Suddenly, doing the dishes instead of mentally stalling doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Tedious doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards the stacks upon stacks on dishes, which hadn’t grown mold or attracted flies, thank god. You decide to set your phone aside (you’d checked it three times since you decided to do the dishes, maybe you need to get a safe to throw it into) before filling the sink with water.

As you add soap to the water, your phone chimes. You shut off the water, as flooding your apartment would be worse than cold water, you reason.

You were sober enough to put Gahyeon’s name in your phone, but your capitalization skills were a bit… questionable.

gAhyEOn: hey u up?

some friends and I went drinking last night, and I need a pick-me-up.

you wanna go for coffee?

Coffee? As in a coffee date? As in you’ll be face-to-face with Gahyeon alone, after you probably made a fool of yourself a few nights ago?

Well, you don’t remember much about that night, do you?

God damn you, vodka, you taste good in too many mixed drinks.

You quickly respond with a ‘Sure! What time?’ after contemplating what to say for an uncomfortable amount of time.

gAhyEOn: Does thirty minutes work for you?

I’ll send you the address, see if you can make it there in time.

Your phone buzzes, and afterwards, you plug the address into Google Maps - it’s only a block farther than the bar you met Gahyeon in. If you quickly scrubbed a few dishes and put proper clothes on (the Pokemon pajamas were cute but not ideal for a “first date”), you could make it there in thirty minutes if you run-walked.

You send her a confirmation text, telling her that the time and place will work. You manage to finish a quarter of the dishes (you’ll totally finish the rest of the dishes instead of continuing your latest masterpiece) before throwing on a comfortable outfit that’s perfect for a first date. You grab your wallet and phone before heading out of your apartment.

The walk to the cafe takes a lot less time than you had considered, but that was probably because you were going through a hundred and one different ways that you could make a fool of yourself.

Although you nearly ran headfirst into a pole when you saw Gahyeon waving at you in the distance, you had made it to the café.

Even if you were a bit too embarrassed to look her in the eyes, a bit sweaty from run-walking here, especially after she told you off for being late.

“You’re five minutes late. I thought I told you thirty minutes, not thirty-five-”

“In my defense,” You raise your hands in the air, “I’m worse at directions when I’m sober.”

“If you buy me coffee, I may forgive you.”

“Let’s test that theory, huh?” You open the door for her as she gracefully smiles.

You let out a nervous sigh before closing the door behind you. You’ve got this, right?

Maybe the gods would push some luck in your favor.

Gahyeon didn’t think you were a total loser, so that was a plus.

She even agreed to a proper first date, and then a second, next a third, and you’d somehow convinced her to become your girlfriend… which meant that she would be moving in with you since you’d been dating for a year and a half.

Time flies.

“Can you help me with these boxes, babe?”

After shoving more of your supplies (holy fuck how much shit did you own) into a spare closet, you join Gahyeon at the door to receive the box that she had in her hands.

“I got it,” You say before immediately swearing after the box rests in your arms, “what did you put in here, a bowling ball?”

“Three, actually,” Gahyeon offers a sweet smile as you shake your head, “it’s just the first box of my clothes. You can set it in the bedroom, if you would.”

“The things I do for you.” You scoff before shifting the weight in the box (seriously, what was in here?).

You take a few steps forward as Gahyeon wanders around your apartment. She peeks into the room you just left before letting out a gasp.

“You didn’t move your work so I could have more space, did you?”

You pause, not turning to meet her eye, as she accusingly charges toward you.

“Yah, babe, I told you to leave that stuff there! You know how much I love seeing your work.”

You hightail it to the bedroom before she tackles you into a warm hug. You both dissolve into giggles, heavy boxes and caring anger set aside, as you enjoy her presence.

“I love you.” She whispers before kissing your lips.

You wonder what god of love was paid off in order to match you and Gahyeon, but you didn’t care. Everything worked, you two worked, and your work spoke for itself.

That’s all you ever needed.

A wedding ring was the other thing you needed.

You had fiddled with the ring for ages, wondering when would be the right time to propose.

Gahyeon deserved the best, after all.

So you just asked her one day, when the moment was right.

And she said yes before bursting out into tears. You were quick to comfort her, of course, but you felt like you had ascended to another plane of reality.

Finally, everything made sense.

Your creative energy was at a high, so you were producing plenty of work. You were ahead on rent, enough so that you could save up for a house and a wedding, eventually.

Gahyeon stood in the kitchen, admiring the ring on her left hand, as you wrapped your arm around her waist.

“The ring’s pretty.” She says absentmindedly as you squeeze your arms, which makes her laugh. “What’s up?”

“I got bored. Something told me to go out here and check up on you.” You give a small shrug before kissing her cheek. “What are you up to?”

“I’m going to head to the store by my old place to pick up a few things. Do you want anything?”

For some reason, your stomach sinks. But why, you wonder? She made this trip often, what was so awful about it now?

“Are you sure you don’t want to go down the street, to the convenience store?” You try to convince her as she shakes her head and manages to escape your grasp.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” She turns to give you a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing the car keys on the table, “are you worried about me?”

“Maybe.” You give a noncommittal answer before checking the clock. “Be home for dinner!”

“I will, I promise.” She walks away and grabs the doorknob before turning back to you. “Hey!”

“Hey what?”

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Gahyeon winks at you as you look away in embarrassment.

It’s crazy that she still has this effect on you, years later.

She laughs before shutting the door as you stare at the front door to your apartment like a lovesick golden retriever waiting for their human to return.

You couldn’t wait for her to return back into your arms, so you could make dinner and spend the rest of your night together.

Four hours.

It had been four hours since Gahyeon left.

Should you be worried?

She would’ve texted, called, told you if she would’ve been late. Gahyeon expected the same of you, even though you weren’t the most prompt person at times.

You should stop pacing before you have to add carpet replacement to your laundry list of things to buy. The sun had gone down, but that meant that traffic must’ve been heavy, right?

You need to take a walk before you worry yourself into an early grave.

You grab a light jacket before exiting your apartment. Taking a walk around the block has always helped clear your mind, but your heart pangs with a new hurt as Gahyeon always liked to go on walks with you.

She was fine, she had to be fine.

You round the corner, only to want to immediately retreat back into your home.

A car accident.

The worst part?

Gahyeon’s car was among the wreckage.

Police officers pushed the surrounding crowd back, and you scream when you see an EMT pick a bloody ring out from among the wreckage.

Not just any ring.

Her ring.

You can’t look anymore.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.

You hadn’t created anything since the day she died.

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days.

Five-hundred and four hours.

Thirty-thousand, two-hundred forty minutes.

You can’t breathe, can’t think.

You need to open a window.

The light casts a gentle glow over your apartment.

It’s a wreck. You’re a wreck.

How fitting.

Your phone rings. It’s probably your mother, asking why you didn’t come to Sunday dinner for the third time in a row.

You can’t tell her about Gahyeon, you could barely face her parents and tell them what happened. You were choked up then, and you hadn’t felt much better since.

Your heart had been ripped from your chest.

You pick up your phone anyway.

“Do you want to see her again?” A deep male voice echoes from your phone speaker as you sigh.

“You have the wrong number. Have a good day.” You say with no emotion as the voice quickly replies.

“It’s Gahyeon. I have Gahyeon.”

“Who are you? Where is she?”

“Go to the bar where you first met. I’ll meet you there and take you to her.”

“Hold on, how do I know you’re not-”

You pause as you hear the other line beep repeatedly.

He hung up on me. What a dick.

“What do you want?” You gruffly ask as you slide into a booth opposite a man dressed in an all-black suit.

He fixes his silver locks for a moment before looking you up and down.

“You want the girl back?”

“Gahyeon,” You correct, “and I want her here as much as her family does.”

“Would you do anything for her?”

“Yes.” You answer immediately as the man smiles.

“Good, good.” He snaps his fingers as the scenery around you changes.

You’re forced on your feet as the booth disappears behind you.

“What the fuck-” You look at the walls, which expand in every direction and then disappear behind walls of fire and stone.

The man walks forward as a set of stairs appears before him.

“Who are you?” You ask as the ground underneath you begins to shift.

“Death, not the devil.” He answers after sitting down on a throne made of fire and magma. “I have a proposition for you, since your love for Gahyeon has moved my wife. I’m feeling rather…. generous, shall we say?”

“What’s the catch?”

“You have to take the long way out, with you leading and her behind. You can’t look back to see if she’s there, you have to trust yourself and trust her. Understood?”

“I-” You pause while weighing your options.

Could you lead her out of Hell? A dangerous adventure, sure, but it would be worth it to bring her home.

“I accept.”

Death snaps his finger before a door to your left appears.

“Walk through that door and begin your journey.”

You place your hand on the door before looking back at him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you get to the other side.”

You didn’t expect walking through hell to be a cake walk, but you were absolutely exhausted.

Who knows if death himself didn’t trick you in the first place?

You couldn’t look to see if Gahyeon was behind you, and you couldn’t hear her speaking as well.

You just had to trust yourself and trust her.

You trusted Gahyeon, of course you did, but did you trust yourself enough that you wouldn’t have been fooled?

Everyone in hell is looking at you as you climb up towards the exit.

You can do this. You should do this.

Is she really behind me?

You should keep going. You have to keep going.

Your footsteps begin to slow as your breath becomes ragged. You were tired, but you were almost there.

You see the light, see everything that you would have again.

You reach out to embrace the light, you’re almost there.

Is she there?

Gahyeon gasps as your eyes connect with hers.

“You… were there.”

“I always was.” She softly answers before backing up towards the darkness.

“I made a mistake.” You try to reach out and grab her, but she’s fading away from you.

“I know.”

“I love you.” A tear falls from your eye as she disappears into nothingness.

“I know.”

Just like that, she was gone, and you were alone.

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thevioletcaptain · 2 months

Text

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

#cass says things #this is a very long #and heavy post #so i guess i should include some content warnings #uh #christ what do i even tag this with #cw: hospital #cw: health #cw: death #cw: parent death

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Car Rides

Summary: An old memory of Simon’s resurfaces during a car ride to Crash’s house.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,025

Note: No uses of (Y/N), some angst but it’s barely there.

a/n: hello hello! back with another fic :) ngl this one made me kind of sad but still enjoyable to write. I have a set of headcanons that I wrote along with this fic but i decided that I’ll put it into the next post instead :0c !! anyways, i hope y’all like it and would love to hear feedback!

“Keys.” He demanded.

Quickly, you pull your hand back, the other coming up to shield it. The man in front of you narrows his eyes but puts his hands back into his hoodie pocket. You open your hand, revealing a set of keys, along with a lego Darth Vader keychain. Flipping over the key fob, your black Jeep Wrangler makes the distinct sound of itself unlocking. “After you, LT.”

He opens the back passenger seat to set down his duffle bag before moving to the front. While he does that, you get yourself onto the driver's seat and start the vehicle. You check your surroundings before backing out of the parking spot and after a series of turns, you two are on the road, exiting the airport.

“Apologies about earlier, Simon,” you say, after a couple minutes of silence. “I know you want to drive but love this car way too much. Don’t want to crash it, ya know.” He glares at you as you let out an airy chuckle.

“And what do you mean by that, Sergeant?”

“Remember Las Almas? How you slammed on the breaks so fuckin’ hard that I almost went through the window, for the second time? Or that time in Moscow, where you proceeded to hit every curb you saw and we got pulled over?” You glance at him. He stares back at you, offended. And even with a facemask, it’s evident that he’s scowling at you.

Looking back at the road, you lightly elbow his arm. “Don’t worry, LT. You’re great at a lot of things.” You pause, weighing out the option of whether or not to push his buttons more before saying, “Just not driving. Or piloting. Like last month, with the helico-”

“That’ll do!” Simon raises his voice.

Palms on the steering wheel, you open your hands as a signal of surrender. “I’m just jesting, Simon.” You give him a half-hearted smile. He sinks down into his seat, with his arms crossed.

45 minutes passed and the only sound you hear are the cars on the road. Simon looks out of the window, taking sight of the buildings rushing by. In the distance, he can see the large mountain range.

The whole team was given a month of leave after the last mission went up in flames. Literally, burning helicopters and all. While the guys usually went back to the UK, you had invited them to your mountain home in Colorado. Ghost initially declined but after you and Soap begged on your knees, he reluctantly agreed. And now he regrets it after you made fun of his driving skills. But at least it was just you and not the rest of the team. Actually, he’s grateful that they’re flying in tomorrow. Didn’t want to handle three idiots in a car.

“I got a CD folder in the glove box,” You break the silence. “It’s your pick too. Long drives are better with music.”

Simon gives you a nod and begins flipping through the case. He recognizes most of the albums, and taking a closer look, some of the art on them are flaking off.

“Never thought you’d still have CDs this old,” he comments.

“Half of them are my grandpa’s. I’m just adding on to it.”

He hums in response. Spotting a maroon colored disk, he rotates it, reading ‘Queen: Greatest Hits’. Carefully pulling it out of its pocket, he hands it to you. Left hand on the wheel, you stick your finger in the middle and glance at it. Nodding, you slide it into the car player.

“Good choice.”

“Brits have good music.”

“I agree with that.”

Flicking your eyes down to the display screen, you skip the first eight tracks. Without looking, you can tell that Simon is giving you a disapproving look. “We’ll come back to it, promise. Just want to listen to this first.”

He turns his eyes back on the road before him, the first couple notes of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ playing out. They’re in the mountains now, the roads becoming more twisty. Slowly down a bit on the turns, you let the windows down a couple inches. He hears you quietly sing along with the song. Rolling his eyes, Simon leans back on his seat again. Again, looking out the window, enjoying the greenery. It reminds him of the long drives to his aunt's house. Green blurs of evergreen trees passing by. Turning his head to look at you, his heart picks up the pace.

He doesn’t see you. Instead, it was a woman in her early thirties. The driver window slightly opened, leaving her light brown hair flying behind her ears. Hands tapping on the steering wheel on beat with the music. Hazel eyes meeting his. There were bags under them, dark circles hidden by makeup. She smiles at him, little wrinkles appearing on the corner of her eyes, along with two dimples, one of each side of her smile. Just like his. Opening her mouth, she sings along with the song,

“Ooh, you make me live Whenever this world is cruel to me I got you to help me forgive Ooh, you make me live now, honey Ooh, you make me live.”

His mom stops singing. “Simon!” she calls out. “Come on, love. Sing with your ma!”

He’s too stunned to say anything, he just stares at her. “Simon?” Her smile drops, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Simon?” Her voice sounds muffled.

“Simon?!” It’s like echoes now.

“Lieutenant Riley?!” That one snapped him out.

Heart beating like a drum, he opens his eyes, staring at the bottom of his hoodie before looking back up. It’s just you, Crash, his sergeant. Not his mother. But the worried look you give him is identical to hers.

You give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to wake you up LT.” His eyebrows go up with confusion, he didn’t know he was even sleeping. “We’re here.”

Simon steps out of the jeep, closing the door behind him. Taking a look of his surroundings, he glances up at the towering evergreen trees, just like the ones in his childhood. Just like the ones at home.

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

LAST UPDATE HERE WE COME BESTIES

Alright besties here it is, please enjoy this final instalment of To Have & To Hold

Warnings: F-18 crash. Mentions of severe injuries. Unconscious. Angst. Jake Seresin x Wife!wife reader. Smut! Female oral receiving.

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

“You know, I kinda miss the blonde a little.” You couldn’t see Jake's face but you knew that behind the brown moving box he was carrying into the newer, more modern house on base, he had a shit-eating grin plastered across his smug face.

“You didn’t even recognise me with blonde hair—Mr Casinova.” You replied nonchalantly as you unpacked the box full of cutlery, plates, mugs and bowls. Reminding your husband how he tried to hit on you at the Hard Deck the first night you were in town. “But me too.”

“How many times are you gonna make me apologise for that?” Jake sighed as he placed the box he’d need carrying down on the kitchen island. “At least it was actually you?”

“Mmmm—“ Pressing your lips together as you pretended to think of an appropriate number. “Maybe like sixteen more times? Just to make sure you really get it through your thick head.” With Jake's permanent posting to North Island, he’d been moved into a new home. Something more permanent, more homely but a little more spacious. You wouldn't put it past your superiors to think that they had had the possibility of a family in mind when assigning him the hubble abode. It wasn't that a family with Jake was off the cards completely, it was just going to take a little longer and alot more effort than ever initially expected.

Jake had asked his family to send over all his things from the storage unit in Austin that he’d packed up from his last base apartment. So once things had started arriving you were more than happy to lend a hand in helping him move in. Throwing on a comfy sundress just to potter around the house unpacking small bits here and there.

Jake frowned playfully, moving around the bench to trap you between him and the countertop. Kissing your shoulder softly, leaving butterfly-like kisses against your skin. Enjoying the moment for a minute, you turned in his presence and without a single moment of hesitation, Jake was hosting you up onto the countertop. Standing between your legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to draw him close for a kiss.

“What am I gonna do with you huh wifey?” Things couldn't have been better between you and Jake. You'd organised a few couples therapy sessions to make sure things stayed that way. Both of you decided amicably that talking about your grievances before that became full blown issues that could topple an empire needed to be spoken about in a safe environment. There was no shame in that. On the weekend you were both planning on going back to the spot you rewrote your wedding vows at to burn your divorce papers. It wasn't an option anymore, Jake was your forever decision and you were his.

“I dunno hubby, but until you figure that out I guess you’re shit outta luck huh.” You taunted as Jake went in to kiss your neck, sucking against the Paudel point he knew drove you crazy every time. “Jake—we have boxes to unpack—“

“Fuck the boxes, they’ll be there when we’re finished.” It made your heart leap, Jake trailed his kisses from your neck to your jaw until he was making contact with your parted lips again. Soft needy moans escaped as your hands slid down from his shoulder to trace his chest, lingering slower and lower until finally you were palming him through his shorts. “Fuck baby.”

“Hmm, you started it.” It wasn’t hard to get Jake riled up. You could feel him stiffening under your touch, his length straining against his shorts as he let out a soft sigh against your mouth. Tongue searching for yours as his hands came up to cup your cheeks. “It’s all fun and games until you’re straining against your briefs isn’t it Hungman.”

“Okay that’s it—“ Jake was hungry and your attitude was feeding his cravings. Scooping you up off the counter, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist—holding on for dear life as Jake raced you through the living room and down the hall towards his bedroom. “So fucking cocky now she’s a Commander.”

“Take it or leave it Lieutenant.” Kicking the door down to the bedroom, Jake threw you onto the mattress on the floor. He had yet to put together his bed frame, too busy with everything else going on around him. He could sleep on the floor for a few days. It didn’t bother him. What did bother him was the slight difference in your attitude. You’d always had one, especially with him—but now? The empowerment you felt had you projecting that attitude into the world. Jake Seresin wasn’t complaining in the slightest bit. If anything he was addicted—he saw you glowing when he knew you were still struggling with your newly diagnosed fertility issues. “Think you need a lesson in respecting your superiors—“

“Don’t start with that shit with me baby.” Jake hissed as he dropped to his knees on the mattress. “You won’t like how it ends.”

“Is that a threat?” You had to bite your bottom lip gently as Jake came towards you, hovering over you as you laid back on your elbows. Looking up in emerald eyes that swirled with all the different colours of green. Darker than normal as he drank in the sight of you beneath him.

“More like a warning—“ Jake mumbled, he was rock solid against you and you knew you had him in the palms of your hands.

“So if I asked you to eat me out would you defy those direct orders? Lieutenant Seresin?” It had become an easy game to play. There was a part of Jake Seresin that loved being in control—but there was also a part that craved being told what to do. He needed it. “Or would you eat me out like it was your last meal?”

“Fuck you—“

“Please.” You whined as Jake connected his lips with yours in a fever dream way. Hungry and full of lust. You were driving him crazy—but he was into it, losing his mind as you worked to push down his shorts. The pair of Nikes moved ever so easily as Jake kissed a trail from your lips to your chin to the valley between your breasts, the strap of your sundress pulled down your shoulder until your bra was spilling out. “Jake—“

“I'm so lucky to have you Baby.” Jake cooed against your skin as he shuffled down the mattress, finding himself between your legs as he threw your legs over his shoulders. “But I’ve got orders—“ winking before his fingers were pulling at the fabric of your soaked panties—not even attempting to remove them gently, Jake just broke the fabric in half.

“Hey!!” You protested the animalistic act, sitting up on your elbows once again only to be overcome with pleasure within a second as Jake delved into your core. Lapping away like he’d been deprived of hydration for days. “Oohhh—-fuckk.”

“Where’d that cocky little attitude go Commander?” Jake smirked against your core as he felt your legs shaking around his shoulders. Paying all his attention to the little bundle of nurses as he slipped two thick fingers into your dripping cunt. Filling you just right as he began coaxing his fingers against your velvet walls. “Oh fuck you taste so good baby, like candy.”

“Ahhhh—-yess!” Your hands were quick to find the sandy blonde locks of your husband’s hair. Tugging on the strands as you worked your hips in soft circles—grinding yourself against Jake's face. A little stubble had lightly dusted itself across Jake's cheeks and chin, having been off work for a few weeks he saw no need to shave daily. You weren’t complaining in the moment, not in the slightest bit. “Yesss—fuck keep going oh please keep fucking going, just like that.”

It was his favourite meal, his favourite snack, his favourite dessert. Jake could eat you for eternity if were possible. His cock twisted against his briefs, a wet patch forming where the tip of his cock leaked out against the cotton. Soaking up his pre-cum as he used the edge of the mattress to release some built up pressure.

“Jake! Ahhh fuck yes baby don’t stop—“ Your cried out as you threw your head up, letting your back arch up off the mattress as you pulled at Jakes locks. Keeping him as close to you as ever as his fingered coaxed your orgasm closer and closer. Feeling you clench and tighten around his soaked digits. “Mmmm, gonna cum! Gonna cu—“

Normally Jake would make you beg for it, he’d make you tell him how badly you wanted it, how much you needed him—but all Jake could care about right now was making you scream. He wanted your orgasm to take you to another Theon for a few seconds just so he could revel in the sight of you all fucked out because of him.

“Cum for me beautiful, I got you—“ Jake cooed as he pulled his fingers in and out of you so fast his bicep strained and his tricep flexed. “I got you baby let go for me—“

“Aaahhhh! Oh god oh god ohhh god ooohhh goddd—!” It felt like a tsunami, your vision blurred for a split second as you forgot how to breathe, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you shook and clenched your knees around Jake's shoulders as he lapped away at your dripping cunt—feeling your clit pulse against his tongue. “Aahhh fuck!!” Breathing through the pleasure, Hake wiped his mouth and chin as he came up to lie beside you. Although you were spent, you rolled over, straddling his waist before dropping down to kiss his swollen lips. Tasting yourself.

“How about I return to favour?”

“Might keep that new found attitude of yours at bay—“ Jake mumbled as he watched you discard your sung dress over your head. “Fuck, so beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” It was hard not to fall madly in love with your husband all over again. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster of emotions—but right now I’m this very moment everything just seemed worth it. Jake was worth it.

“Wrong—“ Jake held his left hand up to you, pointing at the tattooed wedding band on his ring finger. “It got me you—forever.”

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

Hospitals always gave you the heebie-jeebies. They always seemed too sterile and too silent to be a real place. The walls were always too plain and the deafening silence made all the different monitors' sounds and sirens seem all the much louder.

Knocking on the door as you stood in the threshold of Chaos’s Hospital room, you couldn’t help but to laugh as you took in the copious amounts of bouquets that littered the expanse of the hospital room that had become her home. Bradley Bradshaw was a menace to the flower shop down in the main lobby of the hospital.

“Ah, Commander Seresin, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Chaos teased your new rank as you entered, holding up the bottle of Port you’d snuck past the nurses. Raising her eyebrows in pure excitement, Chaos beamed a bright smile. “Damn, don’t mind if I do.”

“How you been doing?” You asked as you walked around to the empty chair beside her bed. For someone who’d just barely escaped death Chaos looked good. She was still in a sling for her collarbone, but the bruising had started to fade away. She was still facing a few more weeks in hospital though, you all knew it. She was tough but even the tough need time to heal.

“Eh, itching to get out of this bed I’ll tell you that.” Chaos was honest, you all knew she was dying to be well enough to be able to go home. She was itching for those discharge papers—she’d started to harass the doctors and nurses every day, hoping that if she was an annoyance enough that’s want her gone as soon as possible. “You just missed Rooster—“ Chaos shuffled herself up the bed a little. Fixing the pillow behind her back. “Sent him home for a damn shower.”

“Good thing I came to see you and not Bradshaw huh?” You chuckled as you popped the cork on the bottle of Port, pouring yourself and Chaos a very small class. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.” Pointing your finger as you handed the injured pilot who just needed someone to look at her as if she wasn’t a fractured version of her former self the small glass. “I’m sure a few sips won’t kill you.”

“Worst adversities have tried.” Chaos joked before she downed the port as a shot, it certainly wasn’t intended to be drunk like that but nevertheless she handled it with grace, coughing slightly before gesturing for you to pour another glass. Which you did without hesitation, filling the glass before placing the bottle on the ground beside your chair—leaning back as you sighed. Looking up at the ceiling as if by some grace of whatever God was watching down you'd figure out all the answers yourself. “What’s up Hawks?”

“I got my new posting.” You hadn’t told Jake about the letter you’d received three days ago. You were still tossing up what you were going to do about it. With your new rank and your current position as one of the Navy’s best combat analysts, you had two choices. “And I know it’s probably selfish to ask the person stuck in a hospital bed for advice but I know you won’t sugar coat your opinion.”

“What’s the posting?” Chaos asked as she sipped her port, not feeling brave enough to shot the liquor in one go twice in a row.

“I can stay here in Miramar and take up an analytical position amongst the higher ups.” You explained as you eyed off the liquor swirling around in the small glass. “Or—“

“Or—?” Chaos mimicked you like a parrot, smirking as you held back on her for a moment.

“Or I can take up a position at Quantico, work under the guidance of some of the most leading admirals, which would just send my career skyrocketing Chaos.” You explained before following the daring pilot's lead, shotting the liquor you nursed.

“Well it sounds like you already know what you want to do so what’s the big issue?” Chaos knew what the dilemma was, and in her mind he had the biggest ego around. Jake Seresin was the anchor keeping you in Miramar. “If you want my personal opinion? I think you should follow whatever your heart is telling you to do Y/n.” Chaos sighed as she shifted in her bed a little more. There was never a comfortable spot, one she could find anyway. “But just so you know, I followed my heart and it damn near got me killed, so.”

“Jake and I are good, I don’t wanna jeopardise anything because of a new posting.” It was the honest truth, you didn’t want to leave Jake in North Island. You wanted to stay and see how things were going to play out. You wanted to enjoy the marriage you had just built back up with the man you loved so much. “He’s really shown he can be a good, genuine person, Chaos, and I love him—so much.”

“I sense a but coming here.” You just laughed softly, shaking your head in defeat as Chaos eyed you down.

“But he told me once I’d never make it if I didn’t stop being scared to try and I dunno Chaos–I wanna be the best.” It felt like acid coming out of your mouth. You’d left Jake for his obsession with wanting to be the best, now it felt like you were about to do it all over again. Only this time it was you who had the obsession in sight. “But I can’t do it without him either.”

“You could always ask him to go with you, you know?” Chaos raised a brow gently. “I think Hangman would follow you to the edge of the earth if you asked him to.”

“The same way Rooster would for you?” For two women who were as fiercely independent as one another, you two had some pretty good men who would fall to their knees before you both. Chaos just laughed softly as she nodded in agreement. “I better get going, Coyotes taking me up on a fly over a little later and I've gotta make sure to empty the contents of my stomach before my feet hit the tarmac.”

“Ah so you're gonna pop your cherry?” Chaos grinned ear to ear. “I heard about this little endeavour to get you up in an F-18 before your ranking ceremony.”

“Please–” You groaned as you hid your face in your hands, your elbows resting on your knees. “Im so fucking scared Chaos.”

“I don't understand how you analyse flight patterns and organise these strike forces and attacks with tomahawks and drones and spend some much time on aircraft carriers and not to bring up the elephant in the room but you're married to a fighter pilot, and yet you have such a fear of flying!” Chaos beamed as she laid your phobia out for you.

“It's not funny alright!” You couldn't help but to laugh at yourself as you groaned in annoyance. “I don't even wanna do this but they all wont get off my dick about it, said i gotta go up at least once in my lifetime.”

“I agree, flying a fighter jet is the most fun you can have with your pants on!”

“You literally almost died on the last mission you went on Chaos.”

“I didn't almost die because I wasn't having fun.” Chaos felt like she needed to explain it to you so you maybe walked out of her hospital room a little less scared. “I almost died because the man I love needed me, and I'd do exactly what I did for him over and over again if it meant he was okay.” She cooed as you listened intently. “I can't wait to get back in the cockpit, it would take a lot for me to ever give it up–it's too exciting, too thrilling! But hey, what's the worst that's gonna happen right?” Chaos shrugged. “It's just a fly over.”

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

“I don’t think we could have picked a better day to do this man.” Javy smirked as he walked around the perimeter of the two seater fighter jet. “Honest, she’s gonna fall in love with it.”

“I highly doubt she’ll go from irrational fear to being madly in love with flying Coyote.” Jake was very aware of your hesitations about this fly over, you’d asked him every possible question under the sun about the what ifs and the maybes. He’d even caught you one night last week reading over your final will and testament while enjoying a glass of red.

“I’m just dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s before you send me plummeting towards an untimely demise.” You joked as Jake came to kneel before you—removing your laptop from where it had made its home on your thighs before his hands snaked up the experience of your inner thighs, parting them with ease.

“Still! It’ll be good to get her up, I don’t even know how she’s managed to go this long without so much as going up in a Cessna.”

“It’s not inherently a part of her job description.” Jake replied as he followed Coyote around the aircraft—taking tags off and making sure everything was in proper working order. “She seems to be doing a damn good job without ever having flown too.”

“I’ll say.” Phoenix chimed in as she made her way over with Bob. “You better not mess my baby up Coyote—“ It was Phoenix’s plane that Coyote was flying with you today, his own had only been a one seater. With the promise of a passenger, Phoenix happily agreed to switch for the day. “Bobs grown awfully attached to the thing.”

“Don’t throw me under the bus!” Bob gasped. “You’re the one who carved your initials into the framework!” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he caught the sight of you all geared up and ready to go. In his mind you looked like a toddler just about ready for her first day of swimming lessons. All the bells and whistles on to help keep you afloat.

“Now just remember, if you need to spew, just spew—it’s always better out than it is in.” Rooster bumped into your shoulder as you nervously walked beside him.

“What happens if I need to shit myself?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the more time that lingered in between when you’d asked and when Rooster responded—the less and less it felt like a gag.

“Try not to do that.”

“Got it.”

“Ah! Look at you!” Jake was the first one beaming at you as you did a little twirl for him. “You look great Hawkeye!”

“She’s shitting herself by the sounds of it.” Rooster snickered as you elbowed his side, sending him doubling over with an oof sound as he clutched at his side. “Okay—yep, sorry ma’am.”

“How long is this gonna take?” You asked as you squinted, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun before Jake took his aviators off and pleased them on your head. They were just a tad too big, but so was everything else you were wearing. From the spare Normex suit to the flight helmet.

“Half an hour give or take.” The shake horror of it all was finally starting to set in. This was the moment you’d been dreading ever since the idea had been conceived. You should have squashed it before it was able to bloom into a fully formulated and calculated endeavour. But now here you were—standing on the goddamn tarmac about to climb into a fighter jet. “But Coyote genuinely has some checks to run, so you’ll be coasting for most of it anyway, he’s even gonna take you over the gully—it’s beautiful Hawk you’ll love it.”

“Oh great yeah just what I wanted to hear, Hangman.” Jake grinned as you put a little more emphasis on his callsign than normal, ignoring the comment about the beautiful gully and focusing on the mentions of genuine checks. “What’s wrong with the thing!”

“Nothings wrong with the Super Hornet Hawk, it's just a routine service flight.” Phoenix shook her head as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “Normally I’d take the bird up but Javy was just so persistent in getting me to trade, how could I say no.”

“You should have had my back Nix.” You tisked at the only female aviator still standing. Everyone was missing Chaos but no one more than Bradley Bradshaw. “Well, can we get this over with already because I'm feeling ridiculously nervous and I’m worried if I put it off any longer instead of just ripping the band aid off I’ll pass out.”

“Alright, alright.” Jake cooed as he placed his arm around you, drawing you into his side as he kissed your temple. “Let's get you in the air Hawkeye.”

“I'm so nervous Jake–” You cooed as you walked with your husband towards the F-18.

“That's a totally appropriate emotion to be feeling.” Jake chuckled softly. “You’ll be fine, I have totally one hundred percent faith in Coyote.” Stopping momentarily to kiss your forehead. “Have you got your new posting yet or?” Shaking your head, Jake sighed. You hated lying to him, but you just hadnt made up your mind about what you wanted to do yet. Stay, or go.

“Not yet, but I'm sure I will soon.” It was as Jake began to walk with you towards the F-18 that Flumes ‘On Top’ starting barreling through the UE Boom speaker Fanboy had brought in his pocket. Seeing it as the most fitting time ever to start playing the hype song. Everybody laughed, including you. This endeavour wasn’t even remotely on your bucket list of things to achieve—but it was nice to have someone beside you so willing to help you conquer your fear, challenge you, get you outside your comfort zone.

“I'm just hyping you up ma’am!” Fanboy chuckled as he held the speaker above his head. “Goodluck! It's just like riding a bike!”

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

Javy Machado was a conservative fighter pilot. Much like his co-worker Rooster–he didn't take risks all that much. He played by the rules, he knew when and where to be a little risky, but majority of the time, he followed the rules of aerodynamics and kept his ego in check more so than most. He knew he was an exceptional aviator, otherwise he wouldn't have been called back to TopGun twice and asked to stay on as a permanent fixture on Miramar for the foreseeable future.

Javy flew every flight he took like he had something to lose. He never wanted his family or friends to receive the news he’d been killed in action or in a training exercise. He simply did what he had to do with calculated poise and a firm belief that whatever God was watching over him that day would take pity on him just one more time for just one more flight and get him through just one more day.

Javy Machado wasn't a praying man, but as he took off with the most precious cargo he;d ever flown with sitting right behind him, Javy said a small inaudible prayer to the God’s above–hoping that he could lessen your internal fears with a calm and problem free fly over.

“How you doing back there?” Coyote smirked as he steadied out on the throttle, levelling out after a textbook takeoff. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A perfect sunny day that almost looked as if it were too good to be true.

“Am I dead yet?” You had your eyes closed as tight as ever, gripping onto your harness for dear life. Jake couldn't help but to laugh as he heard your voice come through the radio. He stood with the group in the rec room back at base. All laughing and watching as Coyote flew by in laps.

“No.” Coyote chuckled as he veered left a little. “If you feel like opening your eyes anytime soon you can look out and see the runway.” Slowly but surely, you peeled your eyelids open, coming into your view was the tarmac, the runway, the entirety of the Miramar base.

“Oh woah–” You instantly felt sick to your stomach although the view was beautiful. “I uh, I never knew I was afraid of heights until now–” You nervously chuckled out as you put your hand up against the cockpit. “Pretty though.”

“You think that's pretty, wait till we go over the gully!” Javy was getting excited. So far so good. Levelling out before swinging to the right, Jake watched as he flew further and further away from the base. The gully wasn't all that far from the runway, with binoculars Jake could keep an eye on you from his position by the window. Which he did.

“What made you wanna be an aviator, Javy?” You asked as you tried to relax a little, settling into the back seat but a little more. You’d known Javy Machado before for a long time, so long in fact he’d been a groomsman in yours and Jake's wedding. But when you left you fell out of contact–never having asked why he decided to do what he did.

“Just growing up on the bases really resonated with me from the beginning I guess.” He shrugged like it was a no brainer. To him though it had been, he couldn't remember wanting to do anything else ever. “My dad was a pilot before he retired a few years ago.”

“Ah, so it's in the blood.” You responded as you flew with Javy further and further towards the mountain range.

“Absolutely ma’am.” There was nothing out of the ordinary that Coyote had noticed as he did he checks. Running codes as he checked off system by system. “What made you want to be an analyst Hawkeye?”

“I wanted to be a clearance diver originally.” You explained as you felt the jet jolt a little. JAvy played his cards close to his chest though and didn't flinch. He knew you’d instantly panic if he gave away something was wrong. “But I didn't pass the initial fitness assessment, tapped out half way through because I couldn't handle the diet of up and go’s and dry electrolyte packets.”

“Understandable–” Coyote kept the conversation going as he noticed the left engine light blinking beside him. “I had a mate who wanted to be a marine and he said the training was damn near torture.”

“Did he make it through?” You asked, stiffening a little as the jet jolted again, this time more aggressively. You knew something was wrong. “Javy is everything alright?”

“Oh god no, he works for the state library now.” Coyote frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on before the situation escalated anymore than need be. “And yeah, everythings fine, Hawk, no need to worry, just sit back and rela–” Before Coyote could finish his sentence, Plumes of black thick smoke were spilling out from the left engine. “Holy shit–”

“Coyote?” You questioned as he saw the smoke as you turned in your seat. “Oh my god!” Jake was the first to notice the trouble happening in the sky while everyone listened in around the radio.

“Hangman hand me the binoculars–” Payback asked as he held his hand out. If something was happening he thought Jake was the last person who needed to see it unfold in real time. His wife and best friend both in the same Super Hornet.

“Fuck off.” Jake hissed as he keeped his eyes on the jet. “Phoenix, I thought you said there was nothing wrong with the–”

“There shouldn't be, I don't understand what's going on?” Phoenix’s voice was shaking as she came to stand by the window.

“Range Control this is Coyote and Hawk.” Javy’s voice came through the radio as the rest of his team listened in. “I've lost my left engine completely, there's dark smoke billowing out but there doesn't seem to be a fire–”

“Recommend return landing immediately.” Rage Control agreed as Coyote made a sharp left turn over the gully, heading back towards base. As soon as you were heading back though? Every bell and whistle in the cockpit began to ring out like a mantra of warnings. Something was seriously wrong.

“Oh god.” Javy was beginning to panic. “Range Control, I'm looking at a full system malfunction–everything gone!”

“Please tell me you can land this thing?” You didn't know when you'd started to cry, but your cheeks were wet nevertheless. “Coyote?”

“I gotta go–” Jake couldn't compute what was happening, he was in full panic mode. This wasn’t happening. Dropping the binoculars into Payback's hands as he turned on his heels.

“Hangman–” Roster gripped Jake's forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “Bro.”

“Emergency responders are gonna be getting ready for when they go down Bradshaw, i'm going with them.” Jake explained as his eyes began to water. This was his fault, he’d put you on that goddamn jet. “First she takes the entire system fails, what kind of sick fucking joke is this?”

“Keep it together man, you don't get to fall apart yet.” Rooster reminded the man who’d saved his life. “She’s gonna need you.”

“Maday, Maday, Maday!” Coytes voice cut through the painful silence that lingered around the rec room. “I've lost control! I have no control!”

“Holy shit they're really going down.” Bob had just caught onto the severity of the situation, he thought for sure whatever the problem had been Coyote could catch it. Bring it home. “Oh my god–”

Jake felt his entire world crashing down around him as the radio went static. He knew how you felt now when he’d disobeyed your direct orders to go after Bradshaw. He wasn't sure when he’d dropped to the fall of the rec room but it's exactly where he ended up as your screams cut through the radio just before the static took over. He could see the smoke trail leading off into the montrains. But no plane. No You.

“Hangman–” Phoenix tried her best to comfort the fallen aviator. “They’re gonna be alright yeah? It's Coyote and Hawk.” Her hand gently resting against his back as a sob no one had ever heard before escaped Jake's lips. He was lost without you–how could he put you in this position. If he lost you? Jake would never recover. There was a difference between losing you because of the marriage you had shared breaking down and losing you for good. At least if he lost you because you didn't love him anymore Jake could still sleep at night knowing you were somewhere on earth smiling, enjoying whatever or whoever was making you happy these days. But losing you for good, knowing that you weren't just somewhere else away from him enjoying life and living free, killed him.

“Ma’am—“ Coyote even in the face of uncertainty knew you outranked him by a mile. “See that yellow and black handle between your legs underneath the seat?” Looking down between your legs as Javy lost control of the F-18, you nodded in response before replying— realising he probably couldn’t see you.

“Yes!” It came out so panicked it broke Coyote's heart. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you’d never wanna get on another plane ever again. “I see it!”

“I need you to pull that on my count of three and put nice your out, pull the red handle on your vest alright, it’s your parachute—“

“Okay!” You shouted over warning bells and whistles as they echoed out through the cockpit. “I’ve got it—!”

“In three, two—“ Coyote had only ever injected from an F-18 once in his life. Now he was doing it for a second time with his best friend's wife. He knew deep down if someone happened to you Jake would never forgive him. But he couldn’t think about that until you were on the ground at least. “One—“

With your cue given—both you and Javy pulled your ejection handles. What you didn’t expect was the sheer force of your seats jolting you up into the canopy that had haphazardly opened from the system malfunctions. You screamed as you fell through the sky uncontrollably, reaching out for the red lever on your harness. Pulling as hard as you possibly could as you caught eyes on Coyote still free falling uncontrollably towards the ground. The tree line not too far away.

“COYOTE!!” You screamed so loud you burned your throat. He wasn’t slowing down. You didn’t see him develop his shoot. “JAVY—!”

Everything that could have gone wrong for your first flight in an F-18 did. So caught up watching Coyote yesterday didn’t see how fast you were coming into land. You hit the tree line seconds after with a thud that rendered you out cold as you fell and smacked against branch after branch after branch.

“Jake if you’re gonna go you gotta go now I can see the patrol car loading up.” Mickey explained as he looked out the window. For a man who normally knew how to compose himself Jake Seresin was a mess. Had he just lost his wife? His best friend? His entire world? He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything besides your beautiful face. How could he have done this to you? He forced you into this—you’d practically begged him to drop the idea ever since Jake had first brought it up. The taste of guilt was vile of his tongue.

“Hangman!” Phonic snapped. “Snap out of it and get off the damn floor!” She raised her voice and changed her tone—breaking through the haze that had begun to cloud Jake's vision. “Go find them.”

“Guys–” Payback choked out a soft mumble. “I didn't see any parachutes.”

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

Jake raced as fast as he could over to where the medics were piling into the truck. An off-road vehicle specially designed for scenarios like this. He’s kind was clouded with the sound of your screams. The kind of scream you let out when you were utterly terrified.

“I need to go with you.” He wasn’t asking, no. Jake was telling. “That was my wife—“

“Sir, it's authorised personnel only.” One of the men said as he tried to shut the door only for Jake to grab at the door frame with his full strength. Sir—“

“I just watched my wife burn in, did you fucking hear me!?” He shouted. Rooster was racing down the tarmac from the exit of the building he’d watched Jake take a few moments ago. “My fucking wife was on that F-18 and if you don’t take me to her right now so help me god I’ll—“

“What he means to say is that he’d be forever grateful if you could just bend the rules just this once because he’s losing his mind.” Rooster placed his hand on Jakes shoulder as he bit his tongue and exhaled slowly. “Look, what if it was someone you loved?” Rooster asked the medic who was being far too stand-offish for his liking. But he’d broken him down regardless. “Hawk and Coyote aren’t just colleagues, they’re family.”

“Get in.” The medic huffed reluctantly, knowing that sitting here arguing was only waisting valuable time.

“Thank you—“ Jake sighed as he jumped into the back. “Thank you so much.”

“Jake?” Rooster caught his attention through the window. “I know how you must be feeling, but Hawk? She’s a fighter.”

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

You weren't sure what brought you back to reality as you swayed gently in the breeze. Whether it was the pain radiating in your spine or the throbbing numbness of your left leg. Perhaps it was the sound of the burning Super Hornet not a few clicks north, or if it was the smell of jet fuel being burnt at temperatures that exceeded that of which humans could handle. Why were you hanging in a tree? Why were you in a flight suit? And why could you see a flight helmet that had the call sign ‘Coyote’ written across it on the ground?

“Coyote?” You sobbed as you looked above, your parachute had become twisted and lodged in a tree. Forcing you to dangle in mid air. Trapped as you swayed gently in the breeze that raced through the gully. “Coyote?” Looking down at just how far the ground was from where you dangled above it didn't seem all that high. You could make the jump. “Coyote you there?” Again, for the third time–there was no response as you looked around while blindly searching for the clip on your stomach that would free you from your harness. “Okay okay okay okay, the worst of it is over–you got this you got this you got this.” Squinting your eyes tight as you hit the release, you were sent flying towards the ground below with an oof as you hit the dirt. “Ah fuck!”

Everything hurt. That was to be expected after ejecting from a near fatal fighter yet crash. Bite size snippets were flooding back to you as you blinked back tears. But you knew immediately something wasn't right when you hit the ground. Deciding to just lay there for a moment and breathe. Turning your head slightly you spotted a mess of canvas close by. A numbness you weren’t sure of radiating through your spine and down your legs.

“Javy?” You sobbed out again to no response. “Dammit you son of a bitch–” Rolling over onto your hands and knees, you slowly but surely stood with a gasp. Getting your teeth as you hobbled over, you were too afraid to look down because you knew by how it felt alone that your leg was broken. Your femur snapped clean in half from hitting the tree branches like a pinball. “Javy, man–you okay?” At this point you weren't even sure why you were still talking, you hadnt had a response since you'd come to. “Sick joke if you ask me–” Dropping down beside the mess of canvas, you fished Coyote out, pulling him into your lap with all your strength before assessing the damage.

He had a bloodied nose, that was all you could see physically–but when you pressed your fingers to the pulse point of his neck you felt nothing. Deciding your judgement was clouded by adrenaline, you opted for a second source, checking his wrist–again, no pulse.

“Fuck!” Although every time you moved it sent pins and needles shooting up your spine and made the base of your head feel oddly bizarre, you laid Javy on his back as you moved beside him. “Absolutely not, you don't get to do this to me!” Unclipping his harness and unzipping his Normex suit, you interlocked your fingered and with all your strength, began compressions. “One, two, three, four–” So on and so forth you counted and repeated the rhythm to Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees. “Come on Javy, come on!” You didn't stop, with every compression more and more blood spilled out from your leg where your femur had slashed through flesh, seeping into the normex suit. You felt light headed, weak even. Your spine felt like jelly as you tried to support yourself. “Ill never forgive you if you fucking die on me, COME ON!!”

“Y/n!” You could hear Jake's voice calling out your name but you never stopped to look around as you kept doing compressions. “They’re over here!” Without so much as hesitating—Jake was racing across the gully to get to you. “Y/n!!” Coming to crouch beside you, Jake assessed the situation. He had to get to you. He had to see for himself if the decision to put you on that goddamn F-18 cost him everything. “You don’t know how sorry I am, I’m so sorry baby.”

“Can’t stop—“ You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you kept going with your compressions. “One, two, three, four—“ You repeated each compression you have. “He’s not breathing— why won’t he just breathe dammit!”

“Hawk, Y/n—baby you’re in shock.” Jake cooed as he saw your thigh, how you were still going he had no idea. Your leg was broken, the pain must have been excruciating. “Your legs broken.” Jake didn’t know if you knew or if you could even feel the broken bone from all the adrenaline. All his attention though, although he’d feel guilty about it later, was all on you.

“I don’t know how long he hasn’t been breathing!” You told one of the paramedics as they placed their hands over the top of yours as if to tell you your job was done. Taking over as Jake dragged you back and into his arms. “Fuck you!” You cried out as Jake placed his hand on your forehead to guide you head against his chest. “Fuck you both!”

“It’s alright, you’re alright—“ Jake was holding back his own tears as he watched the paramedics work on his best friend. One of them making their way over to assess you as you laid in Jake's arms. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry—I never should’ve put you in that jet baby.”

“I hate you—I hate you I’ll never forgive you—I hate you.” Jake knew your anger was coming from a place deep inside you. “Do you hear me? I. Hate. You.” Jake knew you didn’t actually hate him, or Javy. But you hated flying and the fact you’d just been through something unprecedented after being so adamantly against the idea, you needed to get your anguish out. Jake was just the closest person who you could take it out on. That’s what he thought at least:

“I hear you Hawk I hear you.” But it didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Commander Seresin, my names Racheal, I’m one of the base emergency responders, can you wiggle your toes for me?” You tried to do as Racheal told you but you couldn’t. You couldn’t even feel that she’d been applying pressure on your ankles for the better half of a minute now. “Okay, no need to worry, we’re gonna get you in a neck brace and pop you on a stretcher—just for precautions.”

“It’s Lieutenant Commander.” You quickly incorrectly corrected Racheal. “Why can’t I feel my legs?” Panic was starting to rise in your throat, the adrenaline that had been causing through your veins had started to subside and with that came more and more pain. “I can’t feel my legs—Oh my god, I can’t—“ Before you could spiral too much, Jake was cooing in your ear as he held you close. Supporting you.

“You’re alright baby I’ve got you.” Jake had blood on his hands from where your thigh had been slashed and cut by bone. Applying pressure to stop the bleeding. “I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline—“ He tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why you couldn’t wiggle your toes but as he looked to Rachael the first responder her face said otherwise.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna place this neck brace around your neck alright, try not to move.” It was of the utmost importance from this moment onward that you remained as still as possible. Jake held you still as Racheal secured the brace. “Good job, okay now all I want you to do for me is let your husband and I lay you down on this stretcher here.

“Ex husband—“ Jake frowned for a split second as you corrected Racheal with the wrong information. “Ex husband, we’re separated.”

“Uh—“ Jake didn’t know what to say, but Racheal looked at him with an explanation lingering in her lips.

“You two married?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah we were uh, separated for a while there but for the last six weeks we’ve been good, I thought we were really good actually.” Racheal just nodded as she reached for her radio. “Something's wrong isn’t it?”

“Why are you here Jake?” You asked with an annoyance in your tone, like you couldn’t understand why he was here. Of all people. “Why was I on that F-18?” Jake didn’t know how to answer, he didn’t reply as he let a few tears escape past his waterline as he watched Racheal radio back to base.

“This is ground patrol, we’ve got two victims located on the upper north side gully of deadman’s ridge, one responsive one not.” The radio transmission could be heard back at the base as everyone sat around waiting for any news in the Rec room. “Male pilot, unconscious and unresponsive—female back seater, possible broken back and seems to be suffering some level of amnesia—“

“Holy shit, Coyote—“ Bradley was the first one to comfort Phoenix as she gasped in shock, pulling her into his arms as this all his way too close to home for him. Bob was stunned into a state of shock and disbelief. Unable to move from his position by the window as Fanboy came to his side. Speechless.

“They’ll get him back.” Payback was the first one to speak. “It’s Javy, he’s not gonna throw in the towel that easily, right?”

“Hawks not gonna remember any of the last few weeks—“ Bob spoke just barely above a whisper. “The mission, her promotion, Chaos, getting back together with Hangman—us.“

“I’ve got a pulse!” One of the many paramedics working on Javy called out. He took priority. “Where the hell's that chopper!?”

“Okay Y/n, we're gonna move you onto this spinal board now just to help us transport you back to the base hospital—“ Racheal explained as she placed the bright orange stretcher right up against you. “Jake and I are gonna be really careful moving you and I need you to just go with the flow and stay as still as possible for me.”

“I can’t feel my legs—“ It was becoming like a mantra. The only thing you could say, because you couldn’t feel your legs. “But I can’t feel my legs—“

“I know ma’am.” Racheal said as she prepared to lift you from your legs while Jake moved to position himself further behind you, laying you down gently on the ground. “But we’re hoping that it’s only temporary—“

“Come on baby you gotta be strong for me—“

“Why the fuck would I do anything for you?” It stung, but Jake knew that if anything it was just the amnesia talking. “I still don’t understand why you’re fucking here Jake!”

“Because I love you with all my heart baby, you know that.” Jake was dying—he felt like someone had ripped his heart out and had rung it out. The wind had been knocked out of him, the world had stopped spinning. Without you Jake felt empty, he felt like he had been shoved back in time. Back to a time where you couldn’t stand the sight of him. You couldn’t remember every moment of the past six weeks. Which meant to you Jake Seresin was still your ex. “Because you’re my whole world.”

“Okay on three—“ Racheal stated, breaking the tension between you and Jake. “One, two, three!”

“AAHHHH—!!” It was a god awful cry. Jake couldn’t take it, letting his tears fall freely as he helped place you down on the stretcher. “Ahhhh Fuck!”

“Okay, we have to get these two outta here.” Racheal addressed her colleagues as she strapped you in.

Jake?” It came out more paid than you would have liked it to, but you needed to air your honest opinion. Looking up at Jake as he looked down on you. Crouching so he could touch your cheek softly.

“Yeah baby, I’m here—I’ve got you.” He cooed, not expecting the statement you rocked his world with to fall from your lips.

“I don’t care why you’re here—“ You sobbed, why the fuck your ex husband was here to begin with you had no idea.

“I still want a divorce.”

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

Author Note: THANKYOU ALL SO MUCH! For the continued support for this series and in addition the Chaos Series.

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner @itsemohours @shawnsblue

#to have & to hold // jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman seresin

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rebelwrites · 4 months

Text

Twelve: You Deserve The Whole World

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

Warning: low body confidence

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

My heart weighed heavy in my chest, the thought of Pops going into a home made my stomach churn. My head was spinning, I needed to get away from here for a while. After having a quick chat with Jax, I met Charles on the front porch.

“You ready to go, babygirl?” he smiled softly, linking his fingers with mine guiding me towards the Ferrari that was parked at the end of the driveway. He did not know the effect he was having on me right now, the way he called me babygirl caused my heart to flutter and my stomach to flip. Everything was different with him, it was like he was the calmness I desperately sought. He settled the voices in my mind just by being around; I was already dreading once he had to leave.

As we approached the car, I cocked my brow at Charles who was now putting one of Jax’s duffel bags in the trunk. I had so many questions, why did he have a bag? What was in it? What did he have planned? Charles saw the confusion on my face but just smirked at me. “Que voulez-vous faire aujourd'hui ? What do you want to do today?” Charles asked, holding the passenger door open for me.

“Tant que je suis avec toi, je m'en fiche complètement. As long as I'm with you, I don't care,” I mumbled, letting my body sink into the black leather seats. My eyes went wide as I took in the interior of the SUV. Everything about this car was sleek, it was everything you would expect from Ferrari. “This car is fucking amazing!” I beamed, feeling my mood lift slightly.

“Just wait until you hear her roar,” Charles smirked, setting up the sat nav before resting his hand on my knee.

The moment we got onto the open road, he flashed me a wink, placing both hands back on the steering wheel putting his foot down. The small smile on my face was growing wider and wider by the second as the sound of the V12 engine surrounded us.

There was no better feeling than being on an empty road with a beast of a car.

“I want this car,” I giggled, looking over at Charles, his smile was bright enough to light up the entire world, I quickly realized this would be the closest I would ever get to feeling what he felt every race weekend. I had always loved the thrill of fast cars and bikes but this had kicked everything up a notch or two. Adrenaline was rushing through my body as Charles controlled the car beautifully to say he didn’t know the roads but that was why he was one of the best when it came to racing, even though this season wasn’t going to plan. “As much as I don’t want you to slow down, it might be wise unless we want Unser chewing our asses off.”

“I’d doubt the cops would even catch us, babygirl,” Charles laughed, there was a mischievous look in his eyes, “but I guess I’d better behave.”

We had been out of the house less than half an hour and already I felt lighter, “thank you,” I whispered, running my hands over my face, “for everything, you came here to escape all the drama and get some down time, yet you have practically been my rock the last couple of days. You hardly know me, yet here you are doing everything in your power to make the world brighter again for me.”

“Sunshine, I don’t know how to fully describe this and it’s gonna sound crazy but the moment you walked into the bar it was like I already knew you,” he said softly moving his hand back onto my knee. “I don’t have a clue what it is about you but your soul is so familiar to me. It’s like our souls have been waiting a lifetime for our hearts to finally meet.”

His words were causing my heart to race, I knew exactly what he was saying because I felt exactly the same. Placing my hand over his, I let my fingers link with his, “it does sound crazy Char,” I whispered, pausing for a moment, “I get you, I dunno it’s like our souls collided in a past life ya know,” I smiled softly, brushing my thumb over the top of his hand. “Kinda like they would forever find each other in every life.” I whispered, brushing my thumb over the side of his hand, “God, I even feel fucking crazy admitting that.”

Looking out of the window I noticed we had pulled up at the docks. I hadn’t been here in over a year, in fact it was before Pops’ health started declining. “Have you been speaking to Jax?” I asked, turning my attention back to Charles who was grinning like he had just won the world championship.

“Maybe,” he winked, killing the engine, “come on, then Sunshine.”

“What are you planning, Leclerc?” I asked, cocking my brow at him.

“Get out of the car and you shall find out,” he grinned, unclipping his seatbelt before slipping out of the car, my heart fluttering, jogging around the bonnet to open the door for me.

I had no idea what he was up to; I was just grateful for him trying to help clear my head. I could feel my mood already lifting, even if there was a dark cloud still looming over me but I think that would be there for a while, especially with Pops looking into homes. I also knew I was going to be in for an awkward conversation at some point, I saw the confused look on Charles’ face when I mentioned the surname I had at birth.

Unclipping my seat belt, I flashed him a smile as I took his hand, “this better be good otherwise I am leaving your ass at the side of the road and I’m taking this car,” I giggled, trying to ignore the sparks running through my body.

“Oh babygirl, this is going to blow you away,” He smirked, helping me out of the car. Once I was out, he gently closed the door behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder guiding me to the truck to grab the duffle bag.

As we walked over to the boardwalk we were greeted by a guy in a white suit, “Mr Leclerc, Miss Teller, the Princess yacht is all ready for you,” the guy said, with a friendly smile on his face. “I will be your captain today, there are stewards on board who will take care of all your needs. So, welcome aboard and we hope you both enjoy your day.”

I knew my eyes were as wide as saucers right now, no one had ever done anything like this for me before.

He had hired a freaking yacht for the day!

Feeling my eyes fill with tears I turned to Charles, placing my hand over his heart. “C'est trop Charles, tu n'avais pas besoin de louer un putain de bateau pour moi. That's too much Charles, you didn't have to hire a fucking boat for me.”

“Bébé, tu mérites le monde entier. Baby, you deserve the whole world,” Charles whispered, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. I couldn’t stop the tears spilling over my lash line as I leant into his touch, “I just want you to be happy.”

“How did you manage to plan this? You were in the kitchen with me all morning,” I asked, as he guided me onto the yacht.

“I have my ways, Sunshine,” he smirked proudly.

I had completely lost track of time, this boat was absolutely amazing, Charles was really showing me a life of luxury, something I had always dreamed about. The interior of the boat had a clean, contemporary feeling to it but I wasn’t bothered about spending too much time inside. Especially not when the sun was wrapping my body in a warm blanket making me feel safe, like my world wasn’t currently on fire.

Unzipping the duffle bag I tried to find my trusty board shorts, praying that Jax had packed them along with my bikini top that was more of a sports bra, “come on, where are you?” I mumbled to myself, tipping the bag upside down letting the contents fall onto the light gray sofa.

The bright red bikini stood out against the other items that were now spread out on the cushion. I could have killed Jax, this bikini had been thrown in the back of my closet for a reason, the damn thing made me even more self conscious about my body. Running my hand over my face I let out a frustrated growl knowing it was all I had to wear. Grabbing the stupid bikini off the sofa I stormed into the bathroom quickly getting changed.

I was about to leave the room when I finally looked at my reflection. I couldn’t lie, this bikini made my chest look amazing but after spending years picking myself apart all I could see were the stretch marks that wrapped around my hips, my thighs touching, and the dimples from the cellulite. I always made sure I had some form of hoodie or cardigan on hand, something I could wrap around my body when the dreaded thoughts crept into my mind.

To make matters worse, the bikini was the same color as Charles’ Ferrari.

My dear older brother was so dead once I got back home.

Finally, I pulled my beach coverup over my body letting out a shaky breath knowing that I wouldn’t be able to keep my tattoo hidden much longer. I needed to face the fear that was bubbling away in my stomach; it was now or never.

Letting out another breath, I stepped out onto the deck of the boat feeling the sun kiss my skin, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes. I slowly walked over to Charles.

“Thought I was gonna have to send out a search party,” Charles hummed, propping himself up on his elbow.

“If I show you something promise you won’t laugh,” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the sunlounger fiddling with the hem of my cover up, “I got it done last year on my birthday after getting wasted with Jax. Happy had just finished doing a piece on him and I just couldn’t help myself.”

Charles watched intently as I slowly peeled the thin material from my body, my heart was pounding against my chest. Not only because of the tattoo but because this was the first time he would be seeing me, seeing my body, the one that I had spent years tearing apart, trying every fad diet that was out there.

It’s like he could hear my mind racing, “you don’t have to do this if you feel uncomfortable,” he whispered, leaning forward placing his hands on mine. The feeling of his soft gaze on me provided a calmness that washed over me.

“I’m not going to let this opportunity to top up my tan go to waste,” I hummed, moving his hands away from mine, “I don’t want to hide myself away from you Char, I haven’t always had the best relationship with my body but if I don’t do this now, I never will.”

Ignoring the feeling of my heart racing, I slowly pulled the cover up off my body tossing it behind me on the sun lounger. Taking a breath, I moved my gaze up to Charles to see his reaction, the moment I did, I felt my heart practically stop. He shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head whilst pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Babygirl,” he purred, running his eyes over my body, “magnifique, tout simplement magnifique, beautiful, simply beautiful,” he quickly moved to the end of the sunlounger so he was kneeling in front of me. His hands finding their way to my hips, the feeling of his touch sent shockwaves through my body. “I will personally hunt every single person down who made you feel bad about this amazing body and I will run them over with my car.”

“You are looking at the number one culprit,” I mumbled, focusing on the motion of the water.

“Oh baby,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around me, pressing a kiss against my shoulder, “if you will let me, I want to be the one who makes you see just how perfect your body is,” his voice was soft as he spoke, causing me to look at him.

I had never had anyone look at me the way he was; it made me feel giddy but there was also the deep feeling of sadness knowing that come the end of the summer break he would go back to racing, flying all over the world whilst I was stuck here in Charming.

“Now what was it you needed to show me?” he asked, changing the subject.

“This,” I whispered, turning my body to the side giving his full access to the tattoo that sat proudly on my ribs.

“Is that,” he trailed off, running his fingers over the skin, tracing the outline of the black ink.

“Your car, yes it is,” I said with a small laugh.

“I love it,” he hummed, leaning forward pressing a tender kiss against my ribs.

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