#wish i took the week off at the call centre

[works-of-fanfiction]

Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.

Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK

Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!

Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice. 

It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own. 

The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her. 

"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?" 

"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - " 

"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different." 

"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.

"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No." 

"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.

"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.

“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.

“What’s this?”

“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.

Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”

“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”

Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.

Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.

He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.

“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.

“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.

Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.

“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.

“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.

Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.

“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.

“I need to apologise - “

“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”

Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.

“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.

Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.

“It’s never bothered you before.”

“Well this time is different.”

“How?”

“Because you’re not speaking to me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.

“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”

“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.

Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.

Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”

“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.

“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Pierre won’t.”

Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.

Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.

“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”

“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.

“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.

Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.

“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.

Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.

She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.

Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.

Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.

Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.

Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.

“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.

“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.

Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.

Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.

Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.

Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.

Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.

Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.

“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”

“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.

[nattheother]

over the counter and back ✧ jww

tags fluff, meet cute, izakaya!au / midnight diner!au, slight misunderstanding, few swear words, self indulgence (surprising), love me a sopping wet pathetic yn

wc 2.7k words

note that men’s nonno izakaya shoot with dk… yeah... *faints* the hirotaka allegations aint helping either [pic cr. jwwfile on twt]

note i was gonna put an alcohol on the tags but its an izakaya au, u know what ur getting into so :3

crossposted to AO3

—

It wasn’t the weekdays or the rush hour, it’s just the izakaya usually is not that packed. Only two couples on the tables and a woman tonight, who seemed to get off work quite late, sitting at the bar area, seemingly laid back on her phone over her unfinished beer. Old jazzy songs from your boss’ playlist softly filled the bar, warming up the mood.

Your head chef, well, your boss, Kouji, just bid you a farewell. The izakaya just opened about two hours ago this evening, but he had to clock early for his daughter in labour. She usually works part-time here alongside you until about a month ago, which is why you tried to fill her shift until she comes back. Not that you mind.

You wished him good luck before he tackled you into a light hug, resulting in a small “oof!” out of you.

Honestly, handling the diner on a slow day alone doesn’t really worry you. It’s always just the three or two of you. Kouji said the neighborhood was particularly safe, “also it’s a small bar afterall,” he adds.

As you came back from the kitchen after finishing the woman’s check, a new customer came in behind the bar island this time. Young man probably what describes him more. Looks about around his mid 20s, pretty thick rimmed glasses. You’re not sure if it’s his shoulder who’s wide or his button-ups were just oversized, but does he look lean. 

“Welcome! Anything for your order tonight?”

He sits on the barstool at the centre by himself. He adjusts his glasses as he glances around unsure, “yeah, um… just gyudon and draft beer, please,”

You walked around getting the tall glass to pour one from the beer machine. “Sorry, can I ask something?” he promptly starts.

”Yeah?”

”Where is Kouji-san?”

Looking up from the filled glass, you serve the beer on the counter, “Sensei? His daughter’s in labour tonight. I’m in charge for tonight,”

“Only you?” you smiled at his question and nodded, “‘Seems you know Sensei. You’re a regular?”

He took off his watch and chuckled, “Sort of? I do stop by pretty frequently but I’ve kinda never seen you,” he reasoned as he folded up his sleeves.

You laughed softly in the middle of wiping off the beer faucet, pointing to the back with your thumb, “I’m usually in the kitchen.” You put the rag into your apron, “So ring the bell or call up if you need anything.”

You felt the banter was enough as you turned your heels back to the kitchen because you had to make his gyudon, “Wait,” but his calling stopped you in your step. You turned around to him taking a sip of his beer.

“I haven’t gotten your name.”

“If it isn’t Wonwoo!”

Who?

Kouji’s whoop was muffled behind the kitchen curtain. You tried to calmly finish plating up the dish for a current customer so you can quickly move on to this acquaintance of Kouji. Putting his order is for later, so you swiftly deliver the tray full of bowls to the also full table at the back first.

You came back with another tray of empty dishes as you can finally see your next customer.

Oh, right… I forgot to ask his name.

He smiled at you as you confidently welcomed him, mirroring his smile.

In the middle of putting away the dirty dishes, Kouji came into the kitchen with a question, “Wonwoo said he knows you? You’ve never told me!”

You looked back at him in a slight surprise and a chuckle, “Not really, actually, we met around last week I think? You clocked off early.”

What you remembered from that day was after Wonwoo asked your name, customers piling up in a short time right after you served his food. That resulted in you spending most of your time in the kitchen and finished his check a little quickly because the other was also queuing behind him.

“Go take his order. A group just came in just now and I’m taking theirs,” Kouji ordered.

“What?? Why not you earlier, Sensei?” you whined.

After your half-playful complaint of not taking his order, you wipe off your hand dry and sighed on your way out.

“Another draft beer?”

You guessed as you walked up to him. He nodded, “And a mapo tofu, do you have that?” You took out your notes to write down his orders, “I’ll make sure and prepare that for you.

Anything else?”

Days after that, Wonwoo stopped by around eight to nine, assumingly whenever he had overtime. It’s always the same order. One (or more) glass of draft beer and any bowl dishes, that mapo tofu most of the time.

There was also the time where he came in at almost eleven. He usually never shows any signs of fatigue or weariness on his face but you can see the dim in his eyes. You tried to not approach him that much, spending more of your time checking up the kitchen before touching the baton to Kouji for the night.

You rang up his check right before you clock out. He looked a bit more refreshed after his meal, cheeks slightly flushed after a few refills of beer.

“Please walk safe home,” you gave back his card to the small tray alongside the bill.

Not expecting your non-customer service-way farewell, he stared at you for a few seconds before nodding his head, “you too.”

You swear in every language you can think of. Your heart squeezed. Wonwoo was starting to grow in your heart. It’s really nice to see him in the izakaya for a few days a week after that. You never sort of believed in any of those “at first sight” moments, if it works, good for them. While it did feel slightly heavy on your feet anytime you had to walk back to the kitchen instead of seeing him and talk to him, you had to put your mind in place. Focus. 

It could be because he’s one of your first regulars and, cough, is good looking, but you don’t know his background. Who are his friends and family and why does he always come in alone? You’re not even sure if it’s a crush or that you just found comfort with a customer. Either way, workplace is still a workplace and he is your client. This izakaya is your only rendezvous to him.

That is when Wonwoo ordered two glasses of beer. You tried your best not to halt when you stepped out of the kitchen and saw a young woman around his age beside him. You didn’t, and served him his usual bowl of rice. Gyudon this time, and mapo tofu for her.

You need to stop looking like a stalker, hiding behind the kitchen curtain. This is the second time he had brought her to this izakaya. You need to stop before someone accuses you as a total creep as you compare their interaction a few days ago with today. Almost the same. From outside it looked like they were having a quite serious and private discussion, noting down stuff on paper and their phone alternatively. As if someone’s life was actually on the line. You are also lucky Kouji will come later at night, because he might also accuse you as a total creepy stalker.

You try only focusing on attending customers. It’s almost the weekend and customers start piling up before you realize Wonwoo was already sitting alone. You try to not overthink why he didn’t take her home himself and let her go home by herself.

You walk up to the bar to check the beer dispenser. You can feel his eyes boring at you, slightly dim again like it was a couple weeks ago, and two empty glasses of beer.

“Need a refill?” you carefully ask, walking up to him.

“I’m good.” he slightly smiles before asking for his check.

You kept your sweet encouragement to yourself as you don’t want to force and assume anything towards him. He left the change and gave you a tip.

“Wonwoo?”

It was nearing autumn. Though the sun was already setting at five, the bar still opens at the same time. The rain pours hard, covering any sign of the sun setting with gloom. But nothing could’ve prepared you other than the six feet tall man crouching under the roof in front of the closed bar you’re working at, shading himself from the rain. You grip your umbrella tighter when he looks up to your call.

He calls your name in recognition as he stands up.

The rain poured harder above the roof of the izakaya when you hand Wonwoo the warm coffee on the bar. He’s in the middle of taking off his damp jacket when he looks up to you at the sight of the cup.

“On the house,”

“Thank you.”

You busy yourself behind the bar, checking and tidying stuff up under the bar as Wonwoo sips on his coffee. You peek glances over him. He doesn’t look as tired as the last time you saw him. But if your over-analysis and timeline matched, his reasoning behind crouching like a pathetic man in front of your workplace must have something to do with it.

“Is it okay if I ask you what’s wrong?”

Your sudden approach jolts him a little. He chuckles, “it’s fine,” you wait for his pause.

“I can say it’s family matters. Something came up and we had to figure it out somehow, a little stressful I might say,” you hum understanding.

“Did you not have work today? You usually come later. It’s not even six yet,”

He shakes his head, “No, I just finished super early. My seniors are having dinner, too, so,”

“Not going?”

“Not really my thing. Only works when I was new,”

He takes a sip of his coffee again. You space out for a moment not knowing what to respond. You were never the best at comforting someone. For as long as you’ve been friends with your best friends, you’ve always listened. Maybe give them some hugs and pats on the head, words of “I’m here” and “You’re not on your own” repeatedly said, affirming.

You felt sort of bad and truly embarrassed at how you acted behind him the past weeks, sort of suspecting his love life, getting (you admit) jealous at some random woman you don’t know and didn’t even try to know. Maybe what you thought a few weeks ago was right. Maybe you do have a huge cru–

“Yes, Wonwoo?” your ribbons of thoughts were snipped by Wonwoo calling your name.

“You’re usually bright, is something wrong?”

Confused by his question, you look around unsure. Guests usually come around an hour after opening, and you never wished someone to come in right now so bad through your whole career.

“M-maybe? I don’t know, sorry,”

Wonwoo was in the middle of wiping his glasses with the paw of his sleeves. He puts them back on.

“It’s usually me who’s quiet between us,” he adjusts them to the bridge of his nose, looking up at you from his seat, smiling.

Between us? He’s not making this any better. You scratch the back of your neck, not planning to come up with any reply or answer. You avert your gaze to the window, trying to avoid his eyes. Your wish of customers barging in is washed away by the rain—not slowing down any minute apparently.

“I just thought something came up and you had to like,” you chuckle at your assumption, “get off early or, run away or some sort,”

Wonwoo was still sipping his coffee. Not sensing his answer in any minute, you finish your prior thought with your remaining breath, “sort of heartbroken-looking.”

You organize the shot bottle on the under bar, again trying to distract yourself from the fact that he's now facing you, eyes boring. You didn’t budge and he stared at his coffee.

“I wanna get to know you, Wonwoo,” you finally look at him. Emphasizing on your tone, you don’t want him to feel like you’re just messing around.

“Can I?” you ponder at him, preparing yourself for the worst.

“I don’t know if it's possible. For all the time you came here, the past few weeks, I always get all... gung-ho when cooking, or preparing side dishes and bowls in the back. It’s like I want you to see me doing great like there’s nothing wrong in my mind. You know, "bright" like you said. It’s honestly stupid, fuck…” you breath out the last word.

“And then you came in super late that night, with that… heavy shoulders and countless refills of this damned beer, and then came in with that lady not once but twice, and this… serious tension between the two of you. You know, I just didn’t want to assume but it’s just… I don’t know, it was kinda confu–”

“With who now?”

You instantly pause, knowing full well he has probably catched on. So you sigh, “That… friend around your age. Pretty, slight tan, long hair,” you scratch your forehead in defeat. It’s like your pride just splurts out like a balloon being squished its air out.

You excuse yourself by collecting his empty cup on the top counter to refill it, but a hand halts your steps grabbing onto your arm.

“Don’t give me more, I don’t handle caffeine that well.”

“Just… let me put this back to the kitchen,”

“Later. Sit here.” he orders.

Your heart flinched at the slight octave drop of his already soft voice. Another sigh of loss, you put back the cup. Wonwoo slowly let go of your arm to let you walk around the bar counter.

It’s now a whole new view. Wonwoo is sitting right next to you and you can definitely smell his cologne. Even just one second of eye contact, you couldn’t handle it. How does one’s gaze be so soft and comforting? You dart your eyes and cover them with your hands with elbows on the table.

“Just… let's just finish this. I already feel ridiculous.”

All you can catch with your ears was his soft chuckle and fabric rustling, “you wanna get to know me right?”

You feel his fingers snake around your wrist, gently pulling your hands away from your face. Seeing his face up close does not help even one bit, you feel even more like shit of how messy and pathetic you must’ve looked.

“That… “friend”, is my future sister-in-law,” he starts,

Your eyeballs could probably see the back of your head as you whip your head away in another embarrassment, “Ugh, Wonwoo, enough of that,”

“Which is why we were so stressed we had to talk about it on our own. My brother’s marriage is on the line.”

You hear his tone indicating him smiling whilst explaining. To be frank, you kind of already gave up the moment his voice dropped an octave lower. All you can do now is just to sit next to Wonwoo with his thumb drawing circles on your palm. 

“It’s not stupid,” he softly assures, fingertips a little cold from sheltering the rain earlier. But it does feel so to you. Stupid crush at the ripe age of your 20s. Great. 

“So can I get to know you then?”

You look up at him, desperate for his answer and decision.

“Only if I get to know you, too. Here,”

He taps his finger to the table, hand still not letting go of yours. You make sure once more, “like right here?”

He nods, “until today’s first customer.”

You’re not sure if the smile on your lips is for him or just out of embarrassment, “Well technically you are one,” you chuckle, “at least let me put this back to the kitchen.”

Well, now that your stupid crush issue is all clear, you can finally find the courage to look at his face one more time, no meddling. All you can focus on was the soft and playful beam on his eyes behind that thick specs.

“Tell Kouji-san you got a date tonight.”

[18:06] sensei [18:06] i might have to clock off early

[18:12] Oh sure, something’s up?

[18:13] yeah umm [18:13] i just booked myself a date

[18:14] Oooh [18:14] Hahaha [18:14] About time that wonwoo

[18:14] ??? [18:14] sensei???

—

[m.list]

im bout to make a “try not writing scenario about another meet cute at 3 am” challenge (already failed)

[jjonglemons]

Beg For It

Yunho / NSFW

Warnings: established relationship, dirty talk, light degradation, dom/sub, light alcohol usage, female reader

There are so many dom Yunho fics, which we LOVE, but we need sub Yunho too yup!!

WORD COUNT: 2097

It had been nearly three months since you last saw Yunho. He had been so busy with touring, recording, and interviews that there was, unfortunately, no time to see each other. He felt extremely upset about it, as did you, but thankfully you always managed to sneak in short phone calls and spontaneous voice messages. Throughout the months, your cravings for each other became stronger and stronger. All of your phone interactions inevitably overnight became phone sex quickies and begging the universe to let you two come back together sooner. How you both survived those ninety days without exploding is beyond logic. 

“I can’t wait to see you, baby,” you sang into the phone. The day had finally arrived that Yunho was coming home, and for a solid two weeks, too. There was so much catching up to do. A lot of fucking and deep conversations to be had.

“I need you so bad,” Yunho growled. You bit your lip, giggling at his frankness, “I can’t wait any longer, I wish this plane would fucking leave already.”

“Don’t worry, love, you’ll be back before you know it,” reassuring him, but making sure to keep the tone flirty and tempting. You wanted him ready as soon as he got back to your shared apartment. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

You heard him grumbled a “fuck” nearly inaudibly before letting you know he had to hang up. “Looks like we’re about to take off. See you soon, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Safe travels, Yunho.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

What was only a few hours felt like an extra month apart. You were lying on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, wearing a new set of lingerie you had bought earlier that day. You wanted to look good for your man and surprise him as soon as he walked through the front door. You needed him ready to pounce on you immediately. Thinking about all the things that could possibly happen tonight caused immense heat to rush to your centre. 

You heard a light rattling sound, recognizing it as the front door handle. The door opened, Yunho’s silhouette entering the dimly lit entryway. He dropped his keys and luggage right where he was standing, not even bothering to put it into a corner so as to not block the walkway. He sighed.

“Hey,” you greeted him softly.

He turned to see you lying with your arm resting on the back of the couch, your chin leaning into the back of your palms. He shuffled himself over to you lazily, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Hey.”

You fluttered your eyes up at him with seduction, slightly shifting your bodily suggestively. You knew he was most likely tired from his travelling, but something told you it didn’t matter. He wanted to devour you regardless.

It took him a minute to process how you looked- the red lace sitting perfectly along your breasts and ass, the straps slightly loosened so they were falling down your arms and thighs, leaving more of your skin exposed.

“Is this new?” He asked, brushing his fingers over your bra straps.

You nodded, “I bought it this morning, I wanted to surprise you when you got home.”

His breath hitched in his throat. Once he realised you were actually in front of him and he was touching you, all thoughts other than your bodies intertwining fell away. 

“Let’s get this off of you, shall we?” He said, his tone darkening and his eyes staying intently on you.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, “I can’t make it that easy for you, now can I?” You gave your ass a little shake as you slowly lifted yourself up off the couch in what looked like a stretched cat position.

Yunho didn’t say a word, he just watched you intensely as you walked over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging at the hem of his shirt. You let your fingers move underneath, feeling his waistline. He inhaled sharply as you alternated between light squeezes and faintly running your fingers along his curves, making sure you often went dangerously close to his crotch. You wanted to give him a small introduction before having him on his knees, begging for you.

“God, y/n,” he breathed, eyes slightly rolling back, “I missed you so much. I don’t care how tired I am, I need you. Right fucking now.”

Any time you heard Yunho even slightly beg, your desire to dominate him would overtake you. You moved one of your hands to his chin, aggressively pulling him down in front of your lips. You kissed him, sliding your tongue into his mouth for a moment. He moaned, missing your taste. You pulled your mouth away.  “Undress for me,” you demanded, “and don’t fucking look away from me, got it?” He nodded, doing exactly as you asked. You watched his beautiful, bare body come into full view, biting your lips as you saw his hardened cock pop out of his boxers. “On your knees,” you said, “watch me as I take this,” you motioned towards your lingerie, snapping one of the straps dramatically onto your arm, “off, and don’t move.” You slowly, and tortuously, undressed for Yunho, moaning and groaning with each movement as you’d run your fingers over every inch of your body. He flinched multiple times, nearly throwing himself onto you, but he kept himself steady. He loved submitting to you. You were his whole world, his queen, and he worshipped you. 

Once you were naked, you walked up to him, kneeling over so your faces were level. You lightly propped his chin up with your finger and began peppering kisses all over his face. When you reached his lips, you once again let your tongue glide over his. You moved your mouth to his ear, your breath falling down his neck. You could sense the goosebumps forming on his body. “I want you,” you spoke slowly, “to shove your tongue into my dripping, hot pussy.” You moved to his other ear. “I want you,” you started again, “to make me come so hard that you’re lapping me up for ten minutes straight.”

“Fuck,” Yunho moaned, immediately grabbing your ass to pull you to his face. Without hesitation, he plunged his tongue into your wet sex, squeezing and digging his nails into your ass and thighs with every lick. 

You gripped his hair, pulling at it hard as he drank you in, songs of pleasure dripping from your lips. “That’s right, baby, she’s missed you.”

Yunho couldn’t help but fuck you with his tongue faster and faster as he felt your wetness grow. You forced one of his hands off your thigh and pushed it towards your pussy. “Fingers,” is all you said.

In one smooth motion, he moved his tongue to focus on your clit, two of his long, veiny fingers entering you. He curled at your g-spot, sending a sudden loud moan through you, “Shit!”

You could feel your climax building, the heat in your stomach only seconds from shattering. “Oh, fuck, Yunho, keep going.” You screamed, “Yes!” You curled your toes and arched your back, gripping onto Yunho so as to not lose your balance from standing. You came, letting out the most inhumane sound imaginable as your juices poured into his mouth and sliding down his chin.

 “You taste so good, baby,” he hummed, lapping up every last drop of your sweet nectar. 

You loosened yourself from his grip, giving him a hand to help him to his feet. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, starting a trail down to your lips.

“I need you on my cock now,” he begged in between kisses.

“Is that so?” You teased, moving your hands to palm his exposed member. He hissed, kissing you deeper. “Bedroom,” you asserted.

He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, taking you both quickly to the bedroom. He placed you gently back down onto your feet before lying himself down in the bed on his back. “Please let me feel your pussy,” he implored, “I don’t want to wait another second.”

“You’ll get it when I say you can.” You smirked, nibbling at his ankles and making your way up to his thighs. You were now hovering over him, purposefully moving your pussy closer to his cock any time you moved to touch another part of his body. The slight brush of your clit on his tip drove him crazy. If he wasn’t so turned on and into you dominating him right now, he’d have shoved himself into you upon that statement.

You took his cock into your hands, beginning to stroke slowly.

“That’s nice,” he sighed, closing his eyes to focus on the pleasure. You took him into your mouth, humming vibrations that sent shock waves through every inch of him. “You’re so good, baby, fuck!” 

His breathing grew heavier with each pump, small whines falling from his mouth. You picked up the pace, making sure to stop in between every few touches in order to edge him. “What the fuck?” He swore, whimpering, “I need it, baby, don’t tease me like that.”

You laughed, ignoring his plea. His throbbing cock increased in size as you took matters into your own hands, no pun intended. 

“Shit, y/n!” He screamed. 

You could sense his climax was about to be reached, so you smirked, pulling your hands away, and grabbing him by the throat with one of them. “You’re not gonna come now, are you?” You pouted, “I guess you can’t last very long, huh? What a shame.”

Yunho hissed, moving his hands to grab you in protest, but you stopped him halfway by grabbing his wrists with your other hand, trapping them above his head. “Don’t fucking test me.”

He bit his lip, eyes widening from the thrill of your control. Keeping his hands in place, you reached over to the bedside table to grab handcuffs from the drawer. Quickly and gently, you locked him to the headboard. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Yunho let out a loud moan, feeling your dripping core envelop his big, hard cock. You slowly moved yourself along his shaft, hovering for a moment whenever he whimpered. “I swear to God if you edge me again,” he seethed, pulling at his wrists as if he forgot he was chained. 

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Jeong,” you dropped yourself hard onto his cock, “Yunho,” and again. You began to move faster, making sure to build up your own release, too. As the speed increased, you moved one hand to rub on your clit and the other back to his throat. You dug your nails into him as you leaned over and stared deeply into his eyes. “You’re going to look at me while I come all over your beautiful cock, okay, baby?” You purred, licking your lips with insatiable hunger. He nodded, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You fucked him faster, earning matching moans from each other. As you got closer to your orgasm, you moved from his neck to his chin, shoving two of your fingers into his mouth. “Take it,” you spit, using every bit of your power to fuck him to shreds. He was so fucked out, crying and screaming at how good you felt riding his big cock. “Are you gonna come for me, love?” You smirked, fucking him even faster.

“Y-yes,” he managed to get out. He was squirming underneath you, begging to release his seed.

“What was that?” You asked again, shoving your fingers into his mouth a bit further and circling your clit fast. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“YES!” He screamed, “FUCK! I-I’m-”

“Come for me, Yunho.”

“I’m coming-”

“Say my name.”

“Y/n!”

“Again.”

“Y/N!”

With one final thrust, you felt him convulse beneath you, causing you to reach your high in response. “Mmmmm, fuck!” You moaned, riding out your orgasms together. Heavy breathing was all that could be heard as you both slowly came back to. Once you gained some of your energy back, you removed your grip from him, gently kissing his forehead.

“Let’s put these away,” you said, pointing to the handcuffs, “I need your cuddles now.”

And just like that, you were back to your silly, soft self. It drove Yunho crazy that he had these two different versions of you. He smiled, pecking your cheeks and lips softly, wrapping his now free hands around you. “Anything for you, my love.”

[kitkatscabinet]

All I want for Christmas

For my lovely wife @juvenillia as a part of the secret Santa exchange. I'm sorry it took so long love

Simon Riley x f! reader

Summary: Your holiday plans are thwarted when the task force is abruptly called away for a mission.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: reader celebrates Christmas.

You’d always been ambivalent towards the holidays, especially the christmas season. The wonder that had illuminated your childhood at the lights, the decorated trees and the general spirit people exuded had long since faded. While you didn’t hate the holiday season, it was hard to muster up the same level of excitement and magic that children seemed to naturally conjure. 

When it came down to it, you supposed the issue in truth was your family, or rather the lack thereof, most of the remaining members of your jagged family being low, to no contact completely. Atleast, that was the case until your old lieutenant, John Price, had dragged you into his new off the books task force. Sergeants Kyle Garrick and John Mactavish were hard people to hate, not that you’d tried, and both had very quickly wormed their way into your heart through the high stress situations you’d endured together over the years. 

Though given the way Soap had seemingly latched on with both hands and refused to let you go, dragging you to his concernigly empty home in Scotland to spend the holidays together a few years back let you know that he was likely just as lonely. Kyle had hosted the next, Captain Price had been bullied into opening his apartment for the third, and then when it became apparent this would be a 141 tradition, surprisingly Laswell and her wife had welcomed you all with open arms into their home. 

It was through your team, your family, that you started to once again regain that childlike wonder for the holidays. Even Simon, grinch that he seemed to be was always present, glass of Eggnog in his hand as he watched his teammates engage in childlike behaviour from the corner. Soap had tried to pester the large man into wearing the matching pajamas that you, Kyle and him all now proudly wore but that was apparently a step too far. 

You weren’t fooled by his nonchalant persona though, not when you could still so clearly picture the shock and vulnerability that had settled over his pretty unmasked face the first time you’d handed him a full stocking decorated painstakingly with his name in silver thread. The stockings you’d made for your team were incredibly shoddy, a labour of love not skill. Yet even two years later, frayed and chunky, they were still in use. Johnny had been genuinely aghast when you’d tried to take them back, to buy them new, better quality ones. 

With the way your eyes seemed to naturally gravitate towards Simon it would have been impossible not to notice the way he had flinched slightly at your suggestion, hands protectively clutching his stocking. Nor could it escape your notice that every year as the stocking frayed more and more, Simon’s still seemed to be in immaculate shape. Somedays you could swear it seemed to be better off than when you’d first gifted it, though that was probably wishful thinking.  

Your fifth Christmas with the team was rapidly approaching, a fact Johnny wouldnt let you forget, practically vibrating out of his skin at the exciting prospect of celebrating Christmas at your place. As you and Simon were the only remaining members who hadn’t hosted the onus had fallen on you even if you hadn’t volunteered. It seemed the entire squad had silently assumed it would be you, not the paranoidly private Simon, yourself included. 

The apartment you lived in was small but comfortable, and with two weeks until Christmas it was already decked out with lights, tinsel and a small tree covered in garish ornaments. You’d received some odd looks from people in the shopping centre but you were too excited to care. Presents had been bought, multiple for each of your teammates in fact when you kept finding better gifts. Or rather, you’d gathered an assortment of gifts for everyone but Simon. Nothing seemed to quite fit. Sure, there had been a few bits and bobs that you could have settled for, but in your mind nothing had been good enough for him, his gift needed to be perfect. An announcement that the centre was closing ringing through the stores PA system had you dejectedly walking back to your car, the determined promise of tomorrow for sure ringing through your mind. 

Tomorrow is thwarted when the phone you keep in the bedside drawer rings urgently at 3am, rousing you from the light slumber that was characteristic of all your nights sleep. It only takes a few minutes for the gorgginess to exit your system as Price’s grim voice filters through the speaker as you roll out of bed with a less than professional whine. Couldn’t the terrorists or whoever have waited until after the holiday season? Until March even?

Johnny’s just as pouty as you and though the two of you form a coalition to turn your best puppy dog eyes on Price to try and convince him to pawn whatever bullshit mission you’ve been called on to another squad, the captain apparently doesn’t find the act cute enough. Simon jokes that Soap’s ugly mug probably hindered more than anything and thus you were stuck between the two as a sacrificial lamb before things escalated. 

Between the early wake up call and the prospect of being called out so close to Christmas tensions were running a little high. The lack of decent intel further fraying the nerves of everyone bar the ever unflappable Ghost who sat rigid and alert as ever even when you slumped down in the seat next to him on the helo. You’d barely been given a few hours to prep before you were already getting shipped off to Chechnya where the team was then tasked with entering the country very illegally and covertly. In otherwords the whole thing was a shit show and a half and it was felt through the silent tension that thrummed in the air. 

Simon’s large muscled frame pressed lightly against your side, something you were increasingly aware of as the flight droned on. Heat emanating from his body and sinking into your skin. Pressed so closely, you could smell him before he was marred by sweat, dirt and blood, a rarity. He didn’t wear a nice cologne, smelling like simple soap and washing detergent, but it was nice nonetheless. It was nice because it was just so Simon. 

Exhausted already both physically and mentally, you quickly fall asleep to the lull of the whirring blades and warm pillow of muscle sitting to your left, head lolling to slump against his arm. Lost in your slumber as you are, you completely miss the way he tenses minutely at the sensation before quickly relaxing, shuffling just a little to ensure your maximum comfort. He spends far too long staring at your sleeping face, warm eyes committing every little detail to memory. It’s not until he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your peaceful visage that he sees Captain Price’s amused look, brow raised pointedly as he stares at his two subordinates. Not for the first time in his life Simon is thankful for the mask, leaving none of the pink blush marring his skin visible. 

The mission goes totally fubar almost immediately, because of course it does, the whole thing was fucked from the start. Somewhere in the back of the alarms whirring in your mind as you ran through the dense woodlands you recognise that maybe Kyle’s theory of foul play wasn’t so farfetched. 

Price is barking something over the gunfire that you don’t hear over the chaos and deafening ringing  in your ears, Johnny’s swearing over the comms as he switches between sniping and hightailing it down from overwatch to the exfil location. You’re half dragging, half carrying Kyle along as he mumbles deliriously, head slumped into the crook of your neck and left leg hanging nearly limply as you both blindly stumble. 

You’re fucked. You and Kyle are so unbelievably fucked it’s a little funny, and if it weren’t for the fact your lungs were burning and working overtime to expand and provide you with desperately needed oxygen you’d probably be laughing. 

You’re fucked. You’re probably going to die. You and Kyle, who’s useless without you, who’s relying on you to get him to safety. That’s the part that stings the most, that causes your lower lip to wobble traitorously and tears of panic to build in your lashline. Not the fact that you’ll die, forgotten and buried in a cover up orchestrated by your government, but the fact that you’ll take Kyle with you. Sweet, loyal, driven Kyle who wormed his way into your life and into your damn heart. Your confidante. The only person who knew how you really felt about… Simon. 

Simon Riley. The goddamned smug, cocky, bastard that had taken it a step further than the rest of your teammates when he smashed his way into your life. The man you eventually came to realise was nothing like the fear tinged rumours. Sure, the Ghost was scary and more than a little rough around the edges but Simon was kind, generous, gentle, funny, and looking back on it you suppose you’d been doomed from the start. 

You were going to die and he was all you could think about. Where was he? Was he hurt? Was he safe? What if he didn’t make it out? Would he die alone, bleeding out in the snow, not knowing that you loved him?

Moving on a cocktail of adrenaline, muscle memory and desperation you finally burst out of the treeline and towards the road where the exfil vehicles were already roaring to life. A quick head count has you sagging in relief despite the situation. Johnny. Price. Simon. They’re all waiting for you and Kyle, and though it’s impossible to gauge any injuries just yet, it seems that you and Kyle are the worst off by far. 

The relief abruptly leaves your body with a yelp as you take one step down the small hill towards the road only to immediately trip, legs giving way as you and subsequently Kyle fall forwards and tumble down through the slush. Between one blink and the next the shouting starts up again and you’re ceremoniously pulled up from the ground and tugged into a vehicle in a mess of confusion and limbs. 

When your vision finally focuses it’s to the sight of brown eyes crinkled with more concern than you’d ever seen surrounded by a signature skull mask. Trying to sit up, the world tilts precariously once more as a large hand pushes your sternum back down against the seats and a gravelly accent barks something at you. Any other time you’d be elated at the touch but right now you couldn’t even begin to think to appreciate it.

Simon’s yelling something that sounds vaguely like your name, as if trying to get your attention between whatever he’s screaming at who’s driving. Your head lolls to the side in an attempt to better gauge your surroundings but the movement does nothing but send your vision spinning, a sudden sharp burning pain radiating from near your collarbone. Clumsily one of your hands attempts to clutch the aching site, attempting to locate the problem. You end up missing in spectacular fashion, blinking in confusion at your sudden lack of motor skills until there’s a hand on your chin, tilting your face back up to look into uncharacteristically alarmed eyes. 

Simon’s other hand pushes down on your shoulder harshly and pain anew lights your nerves on fire as you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks as you thrash. All you achieve is further agitating your injuries and expending the very little adrenaline fuelled energy you still had. 

“-me. Look at me!” Your hearing suddenly kicks back just in time to hear the tinge of desperation in the Lieutenant’s voice, the black spots in your vision clearing just a little to allow you one last look into Simon’s eyes. Even when they’re wide with terror you can’t help but think how pretty his eyes are, the sentiment might even slip past your tingling lips though you can’t be sure as you abruptly lose the battle and your body shuts down into unconsciousness.  

It’s a steady, consistent beeping that your mind registers first, before your eyelids that feel like they’re weighed down with glue even open. Your lack of vision quickly becomes second on the list of priorities when you try to breathe, only to find yourself gagging and choking on an obtrusion in your throat. You struggle blindly for what feels like an eternity, panic mounting as you fight for oxygen and to get your leaden, useless limbs to cooperate. 

Suddenly hands are grabbing at you, firm voice speaking over the now rapid beeping of what’s probably the heart monitor. Your eyes burst open at the same instant the trachael tube is pulled out, leaving you to gasp and cough for air as a warm hand cups your cheek tenderly whilst helping you sit up. It takes a few more seconds for the blur in your vision to completely clear but when it does it’s to the visage of Simon’s soft brown eyes once again. 

He’s not wearing his mask, giving you the perfect view of his deep purple eye bags and greasy, dishevelled hair. “You look like shit,” your voice is a croaky rasp, throat like sandpaper and Simon’s handing you a styrofoam cup of water before you can even ask. You take small sips of the cool liquid, savouring the soothing nature. 

“Pot meet kettle” he grunted, slumping down into the far too small chair that had been pulled to your bedside. You watch in appreciate silence as he brings one arm up to rub the back of his neck, the muscles in his biceps flexing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. Though after a few more seconds of observation the corners of your lips dip into a frown, he seemed far too used to the room, almost as if he was used to it. Had he been watching over you? Waiting for you to wake up?

You don’t comment on it though, a sudden panic smacking you square in the chest as you sit up instinctively once more, ignoring the pain that shoots up the left side of your body once more as you suddenly remember, “Oh god Kyle-” 

“Garrick’s fine, already discharged. We’ve just been waiting for you to get your lazy ass up sleeping beauty.” You hate the way your traitorous heart skips a beat at his words, the monitor betraying your emotions and given the way Simon smirks at you it’s clear he noticed. 

Though the embarrassment is quickly flushed away by a second round of panic, “wait, what’s the date today? What happened? How long have I been out?” the questions fly out rapid fire. He answers all your questions calmly and with patience, not at all angry. You’d been shot, which certainly explained the fierce ache in your chest and arm even through whatever drugs they’d doped you up on. That made sense you supposed, but it was hardly as alarming as when the date registered in your mind. 

“Wait it’s the 26th?” devastation coloured your tone, “I missed Christmas?” It was such a silly, trivial thing to get upset over. You’d almost died, but that was nothing in the face of missing getting to celebrate with your team. Your lower lip starts to wobble dangerously before you can stop it as Simon’s eyes widen in alarm, standing so quickly the chair falls over with a clang that gets ignored as he hovers anxiously, taking your clenched hands in his own and rubbing calming circles over your pulse point in your wrist. 

“It’s ok lass, nobody’s upest with you. We’ll celebrate when you get discharged yeah?” Looking back on the memory you’ll laugh, but right now you’re too emotional to react logically. 

“S’not just that, I didn’t have time to get you a present! Everything was s’posed to be perfect and now it’s all ruined” you exclaim. The two of you must make quite the sight from an outsiders perspective, a near hysterical woman more upset over the prospect of missing Christmas than the fact she’d been shot and a hulking man in black hovering somehwat frantically in an attempt to soothe. 

“You waking up is the best present I could’ve asked for darlin’” he finally murmurs, so quietly that you almost don’t hear. His long, calloused fingers entwined with yours as he sat on the edge of the mattress, having finally disengaged the finnicky railing. 

“That doesn’t count” you weakly protest, once again cursing the heart monitor for giving away your internal struggle, “‘sides, Johnny and Kyle got three things.” Some of the humour has returned to the situation for Simon, and your pout only deepens when he smirks at you. 

“Did they now? You playing favourites?” You know he’s teasing but you still can’t help but squawk of indignation. “You’ll have to make it up to me,” he continues on, completely unphased even as you smack him on the arm like a child throwing a temper tantrum, “How bout a kiss? That should be enough yeah?” The heart monitor blares like thunder in the background in a way you’ll know will probably alarm the nurses but you can’t think about that. Can’t think about anything other than Simon. The baritone lilt of his voice that had trailed off as he dipped his head towards you, leaving enough of a gap for you to pull away if you wanted though the warmth of his breath still fans across your face. 

His lips are rough, chapped and the scruff of his unshaven face is uncomfortable against your skin but the kiss is perfect nonetheless. Even with the blaring monitor and the burning fire that consumes the left side of your body in agitation from your sudden movement you don’t pull back just yet. Both hands cupping his cheeks reverently as you all but threw yourself at him. Despite the pain and slight embarrassment, it’s perfect. 

When your lips part neither of you pull away, and Simon rests his forehead against your own as you hum contentedly, the both of you leaning desperately into each other’s touch. It’s not until you hear a whooping holler and a series of whistles that you both startle and jerk away from each other in alarm. Kyle’s clapping and jeering alongside Soap whilst your captain simply sighs in exasperation at the scene, though there’s amusement detectable in his smile. 

“And here I was thinking ye’d need this” Johnny grinned mischievoulsy, waving around what you quickly realise is a bushel of mistletoe, causing you to roll your eyes at his theatrics as Simon huffed. 

“Just cause you need an excuse to get kisses doen’t mean I do Johnny” Simon quips and it’s your turn to laugh at the blatant offense that covers the Scotsmans face. The four of you are then promptly made subject to unintelligible Scottish blathering as Simon presumably gets cussed out. Your laughter is briefly interrupted when you feel fingers entwine with yours and you briefly shoot Simon a look from the corner of your eye before you squeeze his hand, face beaming as you turn back to look at Soap. 

It may have been a day late, but as you sat surrounded by your team, with Simon by your side, thumb stroking circles over your wrist you had to admit that it was the best Christmas to date. 

Taglist: @ghostslillady @bunnyreaper @tokusho@ohworm-writes @kmi-02 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jumpofmyclif @tiredmetalenthusiast @Chibijustuff @cooliofango @101crows

[stormblessed95]

I just want to say thank you for your posts/reactions to the show. You seem most level headed and respectful towards what they have shown us about their dynamic. The amount of judgement I have seen made by so called Jikookers is terrible, especially towards JK, Apparently, he cannot do anything right towards Jimin, and apparently that means they aren't together, or are in a situationship gone wrong.

I watched the show without going on here or twitter, and to be honest I wish I had stayed off, because it has really dampened my mood since. I know I shouldn't let others influence me; and that's not it, but more that I feel rage about the judgemental comments and attasks on their characters and bond, if that makes sense?

I honestly do not know what people's expectations of the show were going in, but I think mine were met - there was a nice balance of best friends energy, with a peak of something more there. And I expected that, the bro bit, its not like they were going to full on make out or anything, but I feel that is what people were expected, or it was the only thing going to make people happy.

What we got is a peak into their very real 'daily' bond so to speak, and correct me if I am wrong, but this is something we have had hints of (which many people seem to have not grasped) but never put on display like this - in fact for any member/s to have this amount of dedicated screen time? So we see they like to tease, flirt and bicker. In my opinion that is a wonderful dynamic, its interesting, keeps you on your toes, ensures things don't get boring.

I've been married 7 years and am testament to the fact that often my partner and I bicker something chronic, in cars, in supermarkets, at home, you name it. Its normal, but again, people are making it out that JK is mean to Jimin or worse, and I just don't get that. They know which buttons to press, how to tease, how to pull back - that is peak domestic behaviour to me. 

That leads me to my other point, the car talk, I also expected this going in, but whilst I think there were cuts in the scene for sure, and maybe some mistranslations who knows? What I took from it was that they hadn't been able to make 'quality time for the other in a while, but they had for sure seen each other (for example - only weeks prior at D-Day Seoul). In fact to me, it was giving, but you've made no time for me, we only see each other when we wake up and go straight to work vibes - not that I am saying that exactly, more that the quality time seems key - and again, in any relationship you need that, you need that break from work, from the routine and the mundane of daily living/life, and I suspect that was the issue. But we knew this, we knew from how JK acted on lives that he was missing Jimin, and then vice versa later on, during their busy periods. I don't think they held back in showing that, especially JK. They let us be a part of that, showed us, so why is that new information to a lot of people?

I don't, or we don't truly know what they are to one another, people are making assumptions left right and centre at, landing on situationship. Maybe that is the case, who knows. But what I saw, was two people who know each other deeply, and domestically, and imo that does not come from not seeing each other or spending time together at home. For example, Jimin knew exactly how to cut up the onions without JK really saying anything, they have inside jokes that they laugh at but we are left wondering, they give looks to each other too, they are so fond of the other, and can spend a lot of time together (something I think is inherent in romantic relationship, and sometimes not even then, people need their space), Jimin knew JK's favourite spices to use, he only has to ask JK to cook him food and he does and wants to make it right/nice for him, they are so soft with/and care for the other (which makes this more about just sex to me), they banter like nobody's business, JK is so talkative around JM, JK looking like he wants to coo when JM eats his steak sandwich, and so much more. These habits, and rituals, and ways of being aren't born out of situationships, or hook ups, or even just friendship - because let's face it, the members are meant to have lived apart for 4 years + years now, you would forget the nuances of friends, or they would develop new ones over those years - jikook don't give out that vibe, they know the other and know each other well.

To conclude my very long post, I loved the show, and I value it, for they have created it for us to enjoy with them, seeing them feel free (and how often they said that) was truly beautiful to witness. Them walking around Walmart without masks on or being approached much (and when they were it was respectful). Truly lovely.

"To conclude my very long post, I loved the show, and I value it, for they have created it for us to enjoy with them, seeing them feel free (and how often they said that) was truly beautiful to witness."

💜💜💜💜 this. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us! And thank you for your kind words to me as well 💜

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

pairing: 90s!liam gallagher x fem!tennis player!oc

summary: in which they probably shouldn't have ever been a thing, but liam and lottie don't really care that much

word count: 2.19k

warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, fade to black smut bc it makes me uncomfy sorryy ++ links to the 'fern and noel' saga

he didn't know how it ended up the way it did, but fuck was he happy about it.

when they were younger he would stand on the side of the court behind a net at the tennis centre twenty minutes away from burnage on the train for her county matches. now he sat in guest boxes and spent time not rehearsing and recording plane hopping from open to open, tournament to tournament watching the way her agile feet jumped along the clay staining the soles of her white tennis shoes red.

she acted in turn thought and for that liam was thankful. watching her launch the ball from serve to return over the net was exhausting, but he knew the training and flying to catch the occasional gig was worse and he didn't know how she did it: give a blinder of a performance at the wimbledon grand slam finals and then land in lisbon to see him perform after her hours of press campaigns.

in liam's eyes, lottie could do no wrong; she was perfect in every sense of the word back when they'd started dating in secondary school. she'd offered to help him to pass his ppe's at the pleasure of his mam, she didn't smoke or do drugs at house parties, wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol until she was of legal age and even still it was rare enough to see her do it.

training took up every week night as well as all day saturday, she worked at the bar at the boardwalk in the evening (ironically she was a dab hand at making a blinder of a cocktail) and dedicated sunday to her homework followed by perfecting her serve stance and follow through.

lottie had everything going for her, something that she made clear she wished he had too. many a time she'd be sat with liam late at night, after her shift at the boardwalk, in the middle of the grassy patch in the children's play ground. "someone'll notice you eventually, i know they will. everyone who's seen you loves you."

liam pulled a handful of grass up with his hands out of frustration, a half burnt out cigarette hung between his lips that she couldn't keep her eyes off. "dicks aren't writing about us, though. no-one south of hale or north of oldham knows who we are."

three weeks later, liam had interrupted her training session. he cut off her backhanded serve and pulled her shoulders to him to kiss her soundly as lottie's tennis instructor yelled at him to leave. liam pulled away, grinning brighter than she'd ever seen him, "we've got a record deal, lotts. creation want to work with us, they've signed us!"

a grin split her cheeks right in two. lottie flung her arms around his neck, stood right on the tips of her toes to keep a balance her instructor would have been proud of had he seen it out into action in another other given situation. he blew sharply on the brass whistle hanging on a loop around his neck, hands on his hips as he glared lottie down. she withdrew and whispered a select congratulations in his ear and pushed liam away towards the gate he'd bulldozed through, with a kiss to the pulse point on his neck

lottie was training for the french open when she was called over to the reception desk, hot and sweaty with her hair stuck to the back of her neck, to take a phone call. "hello?" she questioned down the line, rolling her ankles so she could jog back to the clay courts and hit the ground running. she nearly lost her grip on her racquet, slipping through her fingers to collide with her trainers, when liam laughed down the line. "hey lotts, you wouldn't mind paying out my bail would ya love?"

"i thought you were going to belgium," she managed to splutter out, "what did you do to get arrested on a ferry?"

"bit of a long story, babe, but can you pay it?"

she sighed and pinched her nose. "fine, yes. but seriously, liam, this is the last time i'm going to do it. if i find out this has anything to do with you snorting one before boarding you'll be out of my flat and onto your arse faster than you can blink."

on the other end of the line, standing against a pay-phone in a belgian police station, liam adjusted has stance against the pillar. he sat down on one of the wooden slated benches lining the concrete walls and tried to cover his crotch. he chewed his lip in thought, laughing fakely at something bonehead shouted, and his voice turned sombre. "it's not. promise. just had too much to drink an' all that, having a bit of fun before r'kid turns into commander and fuckin' chief."

he heard her heavy sigh and his heart sank. liam had no doubt in his mind that he would be out on the end of astrid's boot in a second if he didn't clean up his act. "i mean it, li. one whiff of cocaine being found in my house and the confederation won't let me compete. i'll phone alan and tell him i'm paying out your bail. you can call me when you get back." lottie hung up on him and handed the receiver back to honey, who was sat behind the desk and messing with the crucifix around her neck pretending like she hadn't overheard any of the conversation.

out on the courts and with little under two months until her first match of the french open, lottie bounced from service to base line, firing fuzzy balls back to over the net while the red clay stained the hem of her whites. she scratched her racquet more times than was necessary to lunge for the ball, while shooting up and zipping around the boxes as she worked harder against the machine.

sometimes during their rigorous training jamie, her coach of seven years, would start loud shouting conversations while lottie was working her arms and thighs. he argued it helped her maintain good breathing regulation and improved concentration, because viewers in the stands could be distracting at the best of times. "so what's new with the rock star, then?"

she grunted as she sent another ball flying over the net and into the wire fence surrounding the court, skidding on her toes in pursuit of the next only an arm's stretch away, "nothing. the twat's only gone and got himself arrested because he got pissed on an over night ferry. 'this is the last time, babe, i promise'", she mimicked in a high pitched voice, "like hell it is."

"ah." jamie ran a finger over the hair he was trying to grow out on top of his lip, "has the brother been in touch yet?" a cold wind shot through the air and he pulled up the zip of his tracksuit closer to his neck. lottie's back flared up in goosebumps but she kept moving, running around the court and rounding up the balls to pour them back into the funnel of the dispensing machine. "no, but i'm expecting a call soon. when one phones the other usually follows suit."

astrid pounded at the treadmill in the gym of her hotel in paris, five minutes away from the large clay court stadium she'd thrashed each of her opponents on. she'd played her way to the final three days and came away relatively unscathed, apart from a strain in her serving wrist that a quick round of physio patched back up. lindsay, an american who was in the running for the doubles championship, was using a bike next to her.

between the two of them they shared an earbud each, stemming from a cassette player settled on the window sill and balancing in the middle of their sponsored water bottles. all of a sudden liam's voice crackled through her ear, and lottie shook her head as she cranked up the incline under foot. lindsay looked at her out of the corner of her eye, cycling as if her life depended on it. "not a fan?" she inquired, bringing down the gears to loosen the tension burning in her calves.

"it's not that," she panted, pushing through the blister forming on her heel, "i just can't believe you are. they're bastards, all of them."

lindsay gradually brought her legs to a stop, taking a moment to bring down her breathing before swinging over the seat to stand up, "i thought you were going out with one of the brothers."

"oh, i am," the incline increased again, "but it doesn't mean i can't call them that." lottie brought the treadmill down until she was walking on a flat line, and took a large sip of water. she looked at her watch and checked the pedometer hooked over her shorts by her hip and started to gather her things. lindsay moved to grab a skipping rope and stretched out her arms behind her back.

"and speaking of whom, i'm off. they should be here by now, good luck for tomorrow if i don't see you."

"and you, lotts. i've heard martínez is training hard, she won't give you an easy run."

lottie zipped her fitted jacket halfway up and tucked her thumbs into the loops around her wrists. "i know. see you on the podium." she left the gym with the two plaits her hair had been tied in laying over her shoulders. in the lift, lottie brushed her eyebrows back into place and checked her watch again, sidestepping a confederation official on the way out into the lobby.

she rocked back and forth on her heels near enough away from the reception desk so as not to look like she was loitering, but close enough to be saved if there were any photographers crouched in a bush with a long-range lens.

as lottie was attempting to push back a cuticle on her nail, she heard liam first rather than seeing him. his loud voice disrupted the peace of the hotel, earning him a disapproving glance from the bellboys and an even dirtier look from noel who was sulking behind, face like thunder.

liam sauntered into the lobby with his sports bag slung lazily over his shoulder, and his eyes were drawn to the dip of lottie's tits first before her smile. she wrapped her arms around him and sighed heavily in content, taking his congratulations on her progress in the open to heart. then she drew away and went to hug noel, who visibly recoiled.

"what's up with you?"

"nowt." he grumbled, shuffling around with room keys.

liam scoffed. "like fuck it's nowt. you're just in a mard because fern broke up with ye'." noel looked like he was ready to hit his brother square on the nose, but was restraining greatly. lottie tried not to sound too sympathetic when she consoled him.

"look i don' want to fuckin' hear it from you either, lotts, no offence. now is there an offie 'round here, i'm dying for a cig and i haven't got nowt."

lottie furrowed her brow in thought and tried to ignore liam looking at her out of the corner of her eye as if he wanted to jump on her right there and then in the glossy lobby.

she crossed her arms under her chest to push up her tits more, just to wind him up. liam discreetly adjusted the way he was standing. "err, yeah. i think there's one just down the road."

"cheers."

noel had sped away before he could even ask someone to take his bag up to his room. liam grumbled out 'lazy cunt' as he made a show of hauling it over his other shoulder, herding lottie into the lift with a hand over her chest.

as soon as the mirrored doors slid shut and they felt movement, liam was attacking lottie with a kiss so searing she felt breathless within seconds.

"missed you so fuckin' much," he mumbled, moving to ravage her neck.

when the lift doors slid open again she dragged him back to her room with her hands on the back of his neck, pushing noel's bag off is shoulder and leaving it abandoned outside his room. liam's hands were roaming over her arse and he withdrew the room key from her back pocket, scanning it before shoving her inside.

"all that time away from you was fuckin' torture," he groaned as her nails dragged down his stomach and traced the low-hanging waistline of his jeans, "need you now, babe." he sighed against her chest as lottie slowly unbuckled his belt, his hand weakly climbing her torso to palm at her tits through her tight jacket.

lottie smirked, "if being this far away from me turns you into this much of a mess, liam," at this she walked him over to her bed to sink down between his legs, following the seam of his jeans up his thighs and to his exposed boxers, "i'm going to have to get competing more often."

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎤

[sinkingnotsoslowly]

Pairing: Bangchan x (f) Reader

Royal au

Warning: angst, forbidden love, reader referred to as princess

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

masterlist

Autumn's sighs- little soft thoughts about our favourite boys

note- inspired by @seo--changbin it is not exactly like the au but i tried

It was wrong. So very wrong. He knew it, the princess knew it, her brother knew it, if he told the street cat even the cat would know it. Love between a royal and a knight was wrong, forbidden. But did the heart ever listen? The heart had its own way of messing with people’s lives. 

Christopher’s first thought when he wakes up is always “I am so glad to be in the same world as the dear princess”. He thought that no other job could be as rewarding as protecting and supporting his princess. Now, no one in the palace was as eager to wake up in the morning and follow a boring schedule as Christopher was and his eagerness (so he likes to call it) had put him on the receiving end of many weirded-out looks. And this “eagerness” of his was what got him to get caught by the prince with whom he had a very extraordinary friendship. 

“Are you in love with my baby sister?” Felix asked incredulously. 

It was almost impossible to catch the top-notch knight off-guard but from the wide eyes of Christopher, it was easy for the prince to decipher the answer.

“Oh my god, you actually are” Felix pretended to be angry at the revelation but his smirk gave it away, “But if you want it to be a secret you better stop looking at her like she hung the stars for you”.

It was easy for the prince to say that but how could Christopher stop? All his thoughts seemed to centre around the princess in question. At this point, he knew the princess’ habits, preferences and unconscious actions better than she did herself and he was proud of it. 

❀ . * . *

“There is no reason for you to be nervous princess. You will do well”

“I am not nervous”, the princess was quick to deny.

“Yes, you are” Christopher retorted. 

The princess was seconds away from stepping into a room full of power-hungry nobles, she had been tasked with the huge responsibility of representing the king, “And how would you know that, Chris?”

Christopher smiled fondly at her; he loved how she always kept their banter going. “Believe me I know”, he lightly patted her head, “No one knows you better than me princess. And so, I also know that you will do perfectly”

He let a smug smile take over his face seeing her looking away to her side, trying to hide her flaming cheeks.

❀ . * . *

But he was very subtly reminded that knowing everything about the princess and loving her with his all did not mean much to the world. Christopher was assigned to a mission to a neighbouring town for a few weeks. When he came back looking for his princess, skipping and giggling like a little girl in love, he found her in the garden having tea with a man he did not know. A royal from the looks of it, and if a royal then it was very much possible that he was a suitor. Christopher’s smile dropped, was he jealous? Maybe not, but upset? Possibly. He stood behind a pillar and took deep breaths so as to not stride up to the man and ruin his pretty face. He let them be, going to his quarters instead.

“Chris”

The sweet, crisp voice called out almost like a melody from the other side of the door of the guard’s quarters. Christopher would never not recognise the voice; the voice that he wished was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep and the first when he woke up. The only person who called him Chris.

He opened the door to his princess fiddling with her fingers and shifting from one foot to the other. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him, “Felix told me you’re back. Why didn’t you come to see me?”

Christopher melted a little inside to know that she was waiting for him, “I did but you were meeting with someone so I didn’t want to disturb you”

The princess gave a self-deprecating smile at that, “So you saw that. He is supposedly the man I will have to marry. This is my second time meeting him”

Christopher knew this day would come eventually, but he had ignored it choosing to be happy in the present moment instead. He looked away from her and let out a sigh, “Do you want to marry him, princess?”

“I don’t have a choice”

Christopher could see the dejected look in her eyes. She did not think there was any hope left for them anymore. Although unspoken, both were aware of the other’s feelings for them. Neither of them could remember any particular moment when their feelings were made known, it was as if they always knew, as if they were soulmates.

❀ . * . *

“I see you’ve been the talk of the town lately” the princess coyly said as she walked along the brick path of the garden, “Never took you for a Casanova”

She looked back to see Christopher confused, “All I hear from the maids is talks of you. Apparently, they are so madly in love with you Chris. Are you seducing them?”

She was trying to sound unbothered he knew. And that made him feel a little happy.

“Are you jealous princess?”, he smirked.

Realising that she had been caught, the princess quickly turned around to continue her walk, “I have no reason to be jealous”, she quipped, “But remember that you’re my knight. You are to remain with me always and my safety is your first priority”.

So she was jealous. How adorable!

“I am your knight. You are my only priority unless otherwise inevitable. So rest assured, I will be rejecting any love confessions I receive”, he grinned.

❀ . * . *

Every day Christopher woke up and went through an unbearable pain, watching his princess’ wedding preparations. Everyone in town was rejoicing, the maids were gossiping about it, and the guards took this as a cue to flirt with the maids, everyone seemed happy except for Christopher. He had never looked this dejected before. His world was being snatched away from him, the world that was never his. But he knew one thing for sure, no one in the whole world could love his princess like he did. Even when she would not be with him, he would keep loving her, keep thinking about her till his last breath.

A week before the wedding came the news of some unrest at the borders of the kingdom. Usually, a personal guard would not be assigned to such missions but there was a shortage of manpower at the borders so Christopher was ordered to go to provide support. Partly, he felt relieved that he would not have to see the wedding but then that would also mean that by the time he came back, his princess would not be his anymore. So he visited her quarters on the night before he left for the mission, his heart beating out of his chest.

❀ . * . *

“You won’t be at the wedding”

“No”

The princess did not look at Christopher’s eyes. She could not look, afraid that she would finally break down. She felt so vulnerable that even the smallest thing could trigger her to do something unspeakable, “Is there no happily ever after for us Chris?”

He did not answer.

“How about we run away?” the princess said in one last desperate attempt.

Christopher gave a sorrowful smile, “You can’t do that, my princess, you have too much of a sense of responsibility”

“You know me so well Chris”, She finally turned her head to meet his eyes. He could see the tears brimming in her eyes. If it were up to Christopher, he would have made sure that the only tears his princess shed were of joy.

A moment of silence passed with them savouring the presence of each other until Christopher broke the silence, “I-I should leave, it’s late-” “Kiss me”

Christopher paused, “What?”

“Kiss me Chris, please”, the princess grasped at his arm. She was begging Christopher for something that he always wished he could give her plentiful. With her permission, he did not wait another moment longer and brought his lips to hers. So passionate and yet so loving. He kissed her like he would die the moment he stopped. And she returned the fervour. Seconds? Minutes? Neither knew how long it was. They only stopped when their lungs were burning for air. Christopher rested his forehead on hers and soaked in her presence. His palms were holding her face and he felt the wetness of her tears, “I do not care if you marry someone else. I will always love you. My very last breath will be for you. My very last heartbeat will be for you. Nothing else matters. Even if you forget me, I will still love you. Because you are the meaning of my existence”. He could no longer hold back himself, he was sobbing, all his unexpressed love, heartbreak; he was putting everything out in the open for her.

“Call me yours Chris”

He sucked in a breath, “Mine, you’re mine”

She shook her head in his hold, “N-No, no, call me what you always call me. Call me your princess”

Christopher wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, leaving not even air between, “My princess, my princess always”. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply so that it got engraved in his brain, “You will forever be my princess”.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Four

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: IT'S TAKEN A WHILE BUT IT'S HAPPENING, MATTY AND MOUSE ARE SO CLOSE. Hi:) Hope you enjoy this part, finally throwing them into the same building!! Lot's happening in this one!

Warnings: Mentions of rehab, struggles around body image

Masterlist

🐭 @/petitesouris 13m Early start, hoping it's a good session today!

The next week rolled around slowly and it had been one of the most agonising waits of my life. 

I’d constantly been emailing with the Primary Talent Team for the last few days, back and forth, just trying to work out which date and time would best fit both our schedules. It’d been gruelling. And the entire exchange would have gone a whole lot easier if it hadn't been for the fact that it had all been centred around them and based on their terms and conditions. Not forgetting the mile long list of Do’s and Don'ts they had also attached to their most recent email, which had been oh so fucking thrilling.

To be honest, I might not have minded it if my whole life had only revolved around the radio show. But as proud of it as I was, and as incredibly hard as both Adi and I constantly worked, I had other priorities that took precedence. I loved the show with all my heart but it could never be my entire life. Not with Teddy waiting for me back home at the end of each day, relying on me alone to raise and feed and clothe him.

Not that Healy’s management could comprehend that, or the fact that I had a schedule and a set routine. They didn't know when to stop and pushed and pushed to get what they wanted. And I could only fight back so much. Which meant that I’d ended up dropping Teddy off at Finn’s place a whole two hours earlier than usual just so that Adi and I could prep for the dated interview.

So, with that in mind, it was safe to say that I wasn't in the perkiest of moods when Adi bounded breathlessly into the studio that morning, a lot later than expected.

"I know, I know, I'm late!" Adi immediately squawked as she hurried on over, the door behind her slamming shut in her wake. "But I have good reason! I hardly slept last night, too excited for all of this!" She added as she threw her knitted tote bag down in its customary corner, the one I’d brought her the birthday last, and tossed her phone and throng of keys down with a clatter onto her paper-filled desk.

I rolled my eyes, but was unable to negotiate with the amused smile that pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Still had time to post a quick photo though. Don't think I didn't see it, Adeline- you tagged the show."

Adi’s smile was blinding when she spun around to meet me, brown eyes wild and full of mirth.

“Figured since you still haven't a clue about how Instagram works that you just wouldn't see it, my love!" She retorted whilst throwing herself down into my desk chair and kicking her Doc clad feet up onto the table. She shot me a smug smirk. 

“Cow. And oi, I’ll have you know I’ve caught on since Circa ‘18!” I defended, but relented upon seeing Adi’s arched brow. “Fine, I had Finn explain it all to me one night after a bottle of wine. But the point still stands.”

Adi’s raucous laughter bounced around the loft and I could only roll my eyes once more before huffing. 2018 had been a rough year for many, but mostly me, seeing as I’d accidentally posted a quick shot of me in the tub for the group chat to my story, exposing a little more than I’d like to our show’s following.

Adi stared back at me in disbelief, loosening the bun of unruly curls that had been strung together by a silk bandana, which also seemed to match the colour of the very short shorts she was wearing.

"He'd had to have been a saint in another life to have dealt with an indisposed you for that long."

I scoffed at that, but couldn't help my own trickle of laughter. “I sent Teddy round to his the next day with a box of chocolates- you know, those fancy ones he’s always banging on about?” Adi hummed her assent. “Felt proper bad about it all. Took him ages to teach me how to stop going Live.”

We both laughed.

“Waste of time that was, should’ve just brought the chocolates here! Knowing Finn, he only helped ‘cause he found the entire sodding thing hilarious.” Adi supplied, pulling a pack of chewing gum free from her jacket pocket.

Snorting faintly, I denied her offering of a piece with a wave of my hand, and went back to fidgeting with my phone, distracting myself again from my plume of thoughts. I spun the device round and round, slowly enough so that each edge made contact with the wooden desktop. 

“You alright there, babe?” Adi queried after a while, and I glanced over to see her eyes now trailing the movement. “Ted doing alright?” 

I stilled and then hummed, watching as she turned and went about fumbling her way through an array of wires that sat on my desk, most of which were already hooked up to the monitors. It was a task Adi did most mornings, even when I’d already ticked it off the list, ever the perfectionist, wanting to double check that nothing would go wrong with the day's show.

“Oh yeah, all’s fine. Teds is already obsessing over Halloween, ranting about what costume he wants to get this year. But August has only just passed, Ads.” I groaned, thinking back to the previous evening when Teddy had spent a good portion of his bath time rambling on about what every other kid in his class was going to be.

Adi peered back at me, the extremity of the grin she wore wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “Just kids, ain't it? We were the same, you'll miss it in a couple of years.”

I supposed she was right, but only because I didn’t have much of an experience to look back on. Halloween had just been me and mum in the woods up by the creek, collecting flowers and eucalyptus for the wreaths we’d make, then reading old stories by the fire.

“Don't remind me, please. I don't want him getting any bigger!” I sighed all too dramatically before standing to head on over towards the printer, picking up everything I’d sent off earlier from out the tray.

“It's the way of life, babe. So, when do you reckon Teds will end up towering over you?”

Adi simply chuckled when I stuck a finger up at her from over my shoulder, not even wanting to pay that idea any thought at all. Teddy was my baby, I couldn’t picture him all grown up.

“I should mention that I saw your tweet, by the way. Guessing you're nervous for today?” Adi added after, her tone a little softer than normal, catching me off guard enough that I actually stilled in place before I turned to face her.

“And you’re not?"

Adi’s mouth quirked upwards when she shook her head, dark ringlets moving with it.

“Why would I be? This is fucking huge for us, M! The exposure that we'll receive alone could really give us the big break we've been searching for- I honestly can't even begin to believe it.”

I gnawed on my bottom lip as I lingered over her words, then pushed back the thought of me having been the one to deal with the stress that was Healy’s management team to the back of my mind. Adi didn’t deserve that, I’d always been the one to deal with all the crap happening behind the scenes, and besides, Adi had a right to be excited. I only wished that I had the ability to join in on it.

“I just don't want to start up any more unnecessary drama, Ads.”

Drama was the very last thing I wanted, knowing that this whole thing with Healy could easily blow up in our faces if we didn’t go about it the right way. And if shit actually does end up hitting the metaphorical fan, then… I wasn't sure I'd be fit enough to handle it. Handle the backlash that would surely follow and affect the show, the only source of income I had. And without it, both Teddy and I would be royally fucked.

Apparently my lack of response had Adi rolling her eyes, adding an extra flare of dramatics to it by flicking my ear as she passed me by. “Don’t be such a worrier, babe. It’ll all work out, always does with us, don’t it? Besides, how can it not when I have a face as gorgeous as this?”

She winked, flashing me her famous grin.

“Tart.”

“Slag.” Adi easily countered.

A breathy chuckle escaped me and I shook my head before returning to the wad of papers I’d been rifling through. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s the radio, babe. No one will be seeing that gorgeous face of yours, or the way your arse is currently hanging out of those shorts.”

Adi cut her eyes at me from across the room, but they gleamed under the studio’s lights. “Don’t be jealous. We both know you love it.”

“Jealous? I’m a mum!”

“A fit one.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat at that and I couldn't find the energy to deny it, so I just shook my head.

“Anyway, you’re wrong.” And at my confused look, Adi continued on, grinning wickedly as she waved around one of the large devices she’d since picked up and cradled in her hand. “We are working with the camera’s today. Sort of why I'm here setting them all up. See?”

“Wait, we’re filming?” I gawked, and my eyes felt like they were just about ready to bulge out of my head as I sat up further to shake my head at her. Mouth already dry. “Non. No, Adi. No one ever mentioned that! I can’t.”

“They called yesterday demanding it. Just as you left to pick up Teds- it must've slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, hun.” Adi revealed sheepishly, her face scrunched up in an apologetic wince as the camera rig dropped to her hip. “But don't worry, yeah? I promise it'll all be sound and then we'll be well on our way to becoming the UK's biggest radio show!”

I reverted back to worrying at my bottom lip, chewing on it as though I hadn't eaten for days whilst I tapped an anxious rhythm into the arm of my chair. I couldn’t do the cameras, not today at least.

“Trust me, Mouse. It’ll be alright. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. No one will say a thing.”

I wished I could fucking believe her.

***

The Sun @/Thesun 16m Matty Healy spotted out in London today! The singer has been relatively quiet for the past few days- somewhat strange for the wayward frontman- but will this all change now that he's been seen? (Link) H @/user1 18m um, what? he’s where?? Adi @/AdelineWells_ 19m Long day ahead but we're very excited for today's show! Big surprises in store for you lot, so who's looking forward to it?? @/petitesouris @/Mouseonamic Indie @/user2 21m @/AdelineWells_ AHHH hope it's another Adi's All-Knowing segment!! Urmymedicine @/user3 23m Did anyone else see Jamie’s ig post?? He says to keep an eye out- AN EYE OUT FOR WHAT?? Talk! @/user4 11m I feel like I've been hit by an unnecessary amount of information

***

Matty’s bleary stare made an attempt to focus on the blurring buildings that passed them by as the car cut through the paved streets of London. Grey just melting into another varied shade of grey.

It was still far too bright for the beginning of September, the remaining weeks of summer only just tittering away now, and Matty couldn't help the scowl that had long since settled into his hollow features. 

One of the very few things he liked about the city was the fact that it was almost sure to be gloomy during the colder months. But it seemed as though the sun was shining a little brighter today, much to his chagrin.

A dull pain throbbed at either side of his temples, it’d been there since he’d been forced awake, and so he'd had to wind the window all the way down as soon as they'd set off to keep the nausea at bay. He silently regretted not turning in early last night, but it couldn't have been helped. It was hard to stay asleep without his usual nightcap, and even then, it was harder to dismiss the memories that plagued his mind without downing half a bottle of something or other.

A frigid wash of air wound its way down his throat as he took a long breath, his mind slowing a tad as the afternoon breeze trickled across his skin. But soon enough Matty’s calm was broken and his attention was then caught by Jamie, who sounded just as thwart as he felt.

“You even listening to me, mate?”

Jamie’s undeterred voice filtered through the back of the car, a short lived sigh following in its wake.

Matty merely rolled his eyes from behind his darkened sunglasses and proceeded to slump further in his seat, lolling his head to the side so that his focus was now within the car instead of on the distractions of the outside world.

His gaze trailed its way across the dark leather seats and blacked out windows before it finally ended up landing on his manager, who was kitted up in one of his many sharp shirts and a pair of formal fitting trousers. A right snazzy twat.

Matty could appreciate their pattern though, Jamie hardly ever ventured too far into the world of fashion, so the burgundy tartan was a sight to behold.

He soon fixed Jamie with an apathetic stare from across the backseat, fingers already itching for a fag, or maybe something stronger. He couldn’t be arsed with the mindless bother he’d been sent to complete today, really didn’t want to be dealing with a roomful of people that were there to assault him with an extensive range of hard-hitting questions, or have any more unwanted cameras shoved in his face in truth. 

But here he was, doing it.

Following orders because that was what it took to be a puppet. He was too tired to be tugging on any strings today though, simply wanted to get the afternoon over and done with, hopefully without any repercussions, so that he could fall back into bed.

“Matty, mate.” Jamie huffed, his face having fallen into a pitiful expression that Matty didn’t quite like looking at, but couldn’t seem to look away from. 

For a while, he'd been fearful that he'd pushed his luck all too far with Jamie, as well as the rest of the band too he supposed. But it seemed as though the guy had a thing for redemption, because he was trying his fucking hardest to annoy Matty into growing the fuck up.

“Look. I know you don't like this anymore than I do, but it's your job, mate. You ain’t got much of a choice here. But think of it this way, right. It's better you being here, doing this, than drowning away in your own fucking sorrows- thought you'd given up drinking since rehab, anyway.”

Matty’s jaw clenched involuntarily at the reminder. Rehab. What was it with everyone and always bringing it up? He’d been too fucking gone on painkillers to have given a second thought to the little amount of alcohol that particular shit show had provided. Could hardly call it a rehabilitation centre either, not when you were constantly surrounded by other abusers who were practically there on a getaway, just finding other means to entertain themselves with.

Jamie broke the silence just as Matty’s mind began to spiral, and Matty couldn’t help but be rather thankful for it.

“You just gonna sit there then?” Jamie snorted, obviously trying to fill the tense quiet now, “Normally you’d have told me to piss off by now.”

“Piss off.” Matty murmured, turning his focus back to the window.

The car seemed to be slowing down now and Matty furrowed his brow when they came to a gentle halt outside a block of buildings.

“Where are we?”

“Outskirts of Islington, I think. Not too far from the studio.”

Matty didn't get much of a chance to reply- not that he'd had one, Islington never did manage to bring up the most fondest of memories with him- because Jamie had all but jumped at the chance to exit the vehicle, opening up the sliding backdoor to escape into the stream of daylight.

With a tired sigh, Matty ran a hand through his mussed hair before he made a move to join his manager, clicking his neck slightly as the bottoms of his leather, heeled boots clacked against the cobbled pavement.

There was the usual musty scent that lingered throughout the city as he took a breath, but the smell of petrol was somewhat stronger here. Hardly anyone was wandering down the backstreet they had pulled into though, and those that did didn't linger too long on either him or the extravagant hired car that he'd been sanctioned with since having been struck with yet another driving ban.

Craning his head up, Matty could tell that there wasn't much to the building they were standing outside of. A commercial unit, three stories or so. Its brick exterior worn and dotted with timber sash windows. It was quaint enough, but not what he was used to when it came to things like this.

"Alright. A quick debrief before we go in." Jamie started, already fixing the faint creases in his otherwise pristine shirt, caused from where he’d been sat working in the backseat. “This is the same show that you had a bit of a spat with earlier this week, alright? So you'll be meeting the same girl that spoke out about your, um… Well, your image and publicity, and all that crap, generally speaking."

Jamie’s eyes flitted around them before he was back to typing away on his phone again. Fucking thing was practically attached to his hand, made Matty wonder how the hell he managed a wank.

But then he caught onto that last bit of his sentence and furrowed his brows, throwing Jamie another quick glance, not quite comprehending.

“Why we even here then? Thought your lot had a right mare dealing with all that.”

Jamie had the decency to look a tad bit sheepish as he started to lead them over towards one of the heavy-duty doors that adorned each of the surrounding units.

“They think that by doing this, it will clear up any allegations. They just want you to right your wrongs, I ‘spose. Make it known that what went down was just a 'misunderstanding' of sorts.”

“Right my? For fucks sake, Jamie! I was shitfaced! And if I remember fucking rightly, this supposed presenter spoke some actual truth. How the fuck am I meant to deny that and clear this whole fucking mess up?"

Matty was quite close to fuming now. It was always the same thing, again and again. The lies were never ending. So much so that he could hardly even recognise them from the truth anymore, everything had seemed to mould into one.

Jamie had since paused, his hand resting on the door's brass handle whilst he gave Matty the best smile he could possibly muster up. "Matty, mate, I'm sorry. Listen, I thought I could-"

Matty cut him off with a throaty scoff.

"Don't make out you're sorry. Not when you're just here ‘to do your job’. The only thing you're sorry for is the fact that you've got to be here at all, to suffer through all this shit with me and put up with the added drama. Just do me a fucking favour and keep your half-arsed apologies to yourself, mate."

Jamie looked genuinely taken back by his vicious rant for once, and somewhat hurt too, but Matty paid it no mind. He knew where to hit where it hurt, and he often didn’t stop until he tasted blood. The band knew that better than most.

"You act like you're here for me, when all you really care about is goin’ by the book and following the rules. Fucking grow a pair and apologise to me when there's an actual ounce of sympathy behind it." He spat back, teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw, glowering at the man standing before him. 

Matty shoved past his startled manager before he could linger on his words and pushed his way through the door. Fisted hands already making their way into his pockets as his nails dug crescent shaped moons into his palms in a desperate attempt to take the edge off of his vibrating anger.

"Ah, good, you're already here then! Thought we'd heard voices!" A cheerful lilt called out just as Matty rounded the short hallway, Jamie hot on his tail, and came face to face with a girl, who was leaning heavily against the metal rail lining the steep stairwell. 

Matty winced at the brashness of her greeting, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses at the very force of her presence. She had a mane of thick curls bundled atop her head, lips lined red and lashes winged with a heavy liner. She was definitely younger than him, but not by much, and he could only guess as he approached her, that she stood at a similar height to him too when she wasn't prancing about on metal staircases. 

His fingertips trailed across the paperboard carton he had stowed away in his jacket pocket as Jamie hurried on over to meet the woman- a beaming smile now replacing his previously dejected look. Matty bit into his cheek at the sight of it.

"Yeah, sorry if we're late! Hey, it's great to meet you, I'm Jamie and this is obviously Matty." Jamie greeted with an incessant smile Matty couldn't bring himself to look at, before his manager was gesturing towards him- the disgruntled singer he was always stuck babysitting- and then reaching out a hand.

"Adeline, but my mates call me Adi." The girl, Adi, chirped as she took Jamie’s palm in her own, her eyes flitting towards Matty long enough to get a good once over. A gesture Matty returned. "It's great to have you both here."

She wore a grin so large it practically surpassed the honey brown eyes that brightened her face. Her teeth were white, if not a little crooked, and the force of her smile showed off the metal piercing that sat against her front teeth.

"We're honestly really excited to have you on the show! We'll have a proper laugh and just chill, so there's no pressure or anything. Mouse is upstairs, by the way. Still have to set up the final bits and bobs." Adi added, her enthusiasm somehow never faltering. "You'll love her! She's the main man round here, the one who started up the show and all that. You'll be speaking to her once we begin, but depending on how everything goes I'm hoping to join the two of you at some point."

Matty merely hummed in reply, which earned him a slight jab to the ribs from Jamie, one he tried not to lash out at. And Adi’s eyes slitted a tad as she followed the gesture, though Matty noted she gathered herself rather quickly.

"So, is that all of you then? No one else to meet?" Jamie wondered politely and Adi chuckled in retort as she began to lead them up the shifting staircase, giving them both an eyeful of her long legs.

"Nah, you're in the clear. It's just the two of us running things around here."

Matty worked his jaw at her response, whilst the sound of his boots hitting each metal stair reverberated around them.

"And that works?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.

Adi's head snapped back to find him, eyes peering over her shoulder as she rounded the first small landing and started on the next set of stairs.

"Mouse was on her own for a long while before I came along. We cope fine on our own though. We might not be as big as some other radio shows at the moment, but we've got a good relationship that works well within this industry. She can be stubborn, whilst I can be pushy, and even when we butt heads over things, we're able to make up in the end for the sake of the show. I don't know how it would work, throwing someone else into the mix."

Matty gave her a curt nod.

"So, Mouse?" Jamie questioned just as they bypassed the second floor, continuing up the staircase. Matty could hear the curiosity that lined his voice.

Adi flashed them another grin. "Mouse. It's what she goes by."

"Oh?" Jamie prodded, prompting her even further. He had a right thing for nicknames, loved hearing the stories behind them or something. 

"Don't know how it came about, in all honesty. You'll have to ask. But it's been her pseudonym ever since she started as a kid."

Matty’s ears perked up upon hearing that, but it was Jamie who quizzed her.

"She's been doing this since she was a kid?"

"Technically. But no, it started out as a Twitter account, just her venting her thoughts and opinions on the music she loved. And trust me, teenage Mouse was just as cut throat and sarcastic as she is now- maybe even more so- but people loved it, still do. The idea for the radio show came about a couple years later, and that was that."

Adi stopped talking just as they reached the very top. The staircase had led them straight into an open plan room, where a large leather sofa separated the sitting area from the tiny kitchenette in the far back corner, and where half of the living space had been overtaken by a recording booth.

Matty blinked. It wasn't at all what he had been expecting.

"God, this is insane." Jamie suddenly crowed from beside him and Matty followed his manager’s wide eyed gaze to where a skylight had been fitted overhead, giving them a clear view of the bright blue skies they'd just escaped from.

"I know." Adi spoke through a breathy exhale, her eyes twinkling as she grinned up at the oversized window. "It was what sold us on the place, honestly. That, and the access we have to the roof."

She gestured over towards the closest window to the stairs then and Matty found a fire exit hatch sat just on the outside of it.

"Don't think the other tenants renting out the spaces below even know about it. Well that, or we've just been lucky enough to never to catch one another up there." She chuckled and Jamie joined her. 

Matty’s hand tightened around his pack of cigarettes, eyes lingering on the hatch. But before he could ask if he could get a quick look at it, Adi was waltzing her way across the room and over towards the kitchen. 

She waved them closer and gestured towards two sofas and a vintage looking armchair that should have looked somewhat out of place, if it hadn't been for the rest of the mismatched furniture that littered the space. From the mint green fridge shelving a chaotic range of mugs, to the wearing Victorian coffee table, which was hilariously similar to the one Matty’s grandmother had preened over whenever guests had gone to visit.

"Tea, coffee?" Adi asked and Matty dipped his head as he took a perch on the edge of an armchair facing the tele box. It looked well over two decades old and he questioned the last time he'd seen one that'd had a DVD player built into it.

"Coffee. Black."

Adi raised an amused brow but didn't comment, looking towards Jamie. "And you, Glasses?"

Jamie only chuckled at the name referring to the thick rimmed frames he often wore. "Tea, please. Milk, two sugars."

"Be with you in just a sec!" Adi winked in reply and pulled four mugs down from the fridge.

"Cheers." Jamie thanked her, smiling all the while, before a look of remembrance crossed his face. "So where's this famous Mouse of yours then?"

And as though someone had answered him, Matty looked up to find the door to the recording booth opening and watched as someone stepped out to join them.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget

📜So... remember when I said things were getting better with the sad parts? I lied... Oh boy, did I ever lie... 😬

Fair warning: this one is grief-heavy... but it's been a long time coming for Liz.

(I also want to say, next to Sapling, this is the other song I hope you listen to. These last two parts have been at the centre of why this story means so much to me. I hope you do 💛)

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child character, Emotional & Protective Sadie (She needs her own warning), Liz finally caves, conversations about grief, Sadie caves too, and strikes again, Crying, Angst, Thunderstorms, Smutty themes (with a Camera 👀), and Just in Case letters.

#6.6k words

Part 18 | Masterlist | Part 20

They say grief comes in five stages.

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Ridley always talked to you about it. All the vicarious trauma sessions she had to attend as a nurse. 'It's just something you have to deal with when you are a nurse. Or even in life," she'd say.

The thing about these stages is that everyone assumed they were something you would experience in order, each stage just as intense as the last. Or that you would feel all of them. It was just a matter of time.

You always thought it was a bald-faced lie.

You didn't know what was worse, the fact you spent the better half of an almost year shoving that grief down into the deepest parts of your soul or that it only took one week after Jake left and a freaking thunderstorm, to finally make you surrender.

It was the first rumble of thunder you heard, standing alone in your kitchen, that started eating away at your stomach. It planted a seed, which grew like vines wrapping around your heart. And whatever the feeling was suddenly flooding your entire body like water, you could only describe it as a sudden white pain.

You tried to bury it again, grabbing another plate leftover from dinner and letting water run over it as you shuttered out another breath. But the next rumble of thunder was accompanied by pelting rain on your windows, and you let the plate slip from your fingers under the water, only to grip the edges of your sink hard.

The white pain you felt only a few seconds earlier had intensified. A sharp inhale, and your chest tightened.

Not now. Why now.

You didn't realize tears had started to stream down your face. As if your body had a mind of its own and proclaimed the most recent danger had passed, so enough was enough - time to deal with what you've been putting off; it's as good of a time as any.

The flash of lightning should have been your warning for what was to follow. Because the second the bolt of lightning disappeared outside your window, the power flickered, and the entire house plunged into darkness.

It was the permission your body needed for your knees to give out. For you to crumple to the floor hard. You wanted to cry at the impact, yet only an aching sob escaped your lips; you curling your fingers into the groves along the tile of your kitchen floor, pulling yourself closer and closer to the handle of your fridge. You grabbed it, using what strength you had to pull yourself up to sit against the cool metal.

You had sung as a blue healer for feelings of deep blue when Sadie was in the hospital, Jake assuring you there was no deadline, no time frame of when you could finally accept she was gone. But the problem was, you didn't want to accept she was. Because wishing, thinking she was still there, was holding on to some semblance of her memory.

If thinking she was still here, still a phone call away, it wouldn't make it real. That you wouldn't have to let Sadie down. That Ridley still could be your armour, then.

You wanted her here. You wanted her to talk to you, to hug you and let you know things would be alright. That Jake and Bradley, would come home, despite everything they had to do in order to keep the world safe.

But she wasn't here. And then Jake apologized. Not with flowers but with something corporeal. Something real. And they had remained on your neck since he had placed them there.

They were a saving grace for the first few days, for you could grab them whenever things got too hard to handle. Yet, now, as you went for them hanging around your neck, buried under your shirt, the chain and tags were a suppressing weight, even a vice, tightening around your neck.

Because Damn Those Dog Tags he had left behind - they signified that the man you loved might also become a memory too. Just like your sister in everything she had left behind.

You yanked them from your neck with a harsh cry, flinging them hard. They flew across the room, metal shining against another flash of lightning, hitting the wall with a clatter. The metallic sound echoes the hollowness in your heart, and you bowed your head between your legs, hands hugging your legs tight.

Anger.

It had only shown itself once before. Yet, yelling at George and being crass towards Jake, you knew it wouldn't solve anything, except for the fact something deep inside was waiting for the chance it could pounce on the next best thing. It wasn't what you were truly angry at.

Because you had spent the better part of now and between then repressing what you didn't want to face. Ridley's absence was something you couldn't focus on; Sadie needed the strength to believe everything would be okay.

Ridley had done the same for you. When you had left, when you had run away from home. The days and months you spent shoving every dark thought or memory of her... you should have been calling it for what it was.

 Depression and Denial went hand in hand.

And yet, still, the angel of death was ruthless.

It had taken Ridley from you. It tried to take Sadie. Jake and Bradley could be next.

What more could it possibly want to take from you next?

Sadie poked her head out from behind the wall to the hallway, finding you huddled up against the fridge in the kitchen, your head in your hands. She watched from her hiding place how your body shook with each sob, how you tried to make your body smaller than it was.

She had been on her way to you, flashlight in hand and scared of the storm when she heard you scream. It had made her quicken her pace, only to stop when her flashlight caught something shiny in its beam flying across the hallway, hitting the wall in a dull metallic sound.

She widened her eyes. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The one she had been expecting, yet never came.

She knew what she had to do.

Turning on her heel, she made her way into your bedroom, immediately going for your closet. She tore the door open, a flash of lightning illuminating the room from the window behind her. She shuttered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

Everything was screaming at her that something was staring at her from your bedroom window, the trees casting dark shadows onto your wall as they swayed in the wind and rain.

She closed her eyes, allowing a fresh wave of tears to fall down her cheeks.

She knew she had to preserve. Dropping her flashlight to the ground as she kneeled, Sadie flung your sweaters and cardigans over her shoulder before finally finding the box she wanted, shoved into the bottom corner. She picked it up, not bothering to close your closet door shut as she placed the flashlight on top and rushed out into the hallway. She stopped momentarily to find the object you had thrown across the room.

She knew what they were the second she found them, picking them up and cradling the metal pieces close to her chest. She didn't want to admit she regretted her last words to him, even if he needed to hear them. She regretted them herself, knowing she should have taken her own advice.

She approached you quietly, you not lifting your head once. She kneeled in front of you, placing the box behind her so you wouldn't see it immediately. Biting her lip, she wiped at either side of her face before placing her hand upon your knee.

"You caved."

Your eyes shot up, Sadie's face littered with silent tears. She had been crying, too. And outstretched in her hand, Jake's dog tags in the palm of her small hand, ball chain wrapped around her tiny fingers.

You swallowed, finally croaking out, "I should have when I brought you home."

She let them drop by the chain, grabbing it with both hands to place them back around your neck, biting her lip harder in concentration. There was only one place these belonged.

"We made a promise, Aunt Liz. We just forgot to see it through."

You sobbed at her words, hugging yourself tight when she leaned back, your nails biting into your skin through your shirt.

You were the furthest thing from perfect, the words so perfectly said first by Jake standing on your front porch. Yet, you wondered if you were letting her down by allowing yourself to voice the words you'd never wanted her to hear.

"I miss her, Bug," you cried out, wiping your cheek. "I miss her so much."

Every instance of trying to gather your resolve not to break in front of Sadie fails you. Not the pain of your fingernails gripping your forearm or shielding your face with the sides of your hair, knowing it was a miserable, shameful last attempt to hide yourself from her.

Each gasping breath you pull from your chest is accompanied by a sob and another wave of fresh tears. Yet, Sadie tucks those strains of hair behind your ears and wipes your face with her tiny thumbs, titling your head up so she can surge forward and burying herself in your neck, hoping her hug showed how much she loved you. How much she appreciated you letting her know you weren't okay and that you were no longer afraid of hiding it.

That it was okay to be vulnerable, even now, in front of her.

When Sadie finally let you go, leaning back to sit down between your legs, she stretched her hand behind her to grab something. The red tape was a giveaway, and you pressed Jake's tags to your forehead in protest for the things you didn't want to discover in the shoebox.

You knew exactly what was in there. You couldn't stand looking at pictures of her, talking about her, or looking at the things that reminded you of her. Books were meant to be read cover to cover, but you couldn't finish fucking Pride and Prejudice for the life of you, stuck forever reading the last page twice.

And as if Ridley naming you after her favourite character in her favourite book would somehow empower you. Elizabeth Bennett got through all that life had to offer - so would you. You didn't even realize, at some point after you started seeing Jake, you had stopped listening to music, too.

Ridley used music to help you get through the bad parts. When she would cover your ears to hide shouts in an empty home like everything was okay. She'd tell you music soothes the soul, but as you did to Sadie, you soon discovered it was for the moments where your parents thought swear words were better to express the thoughts and feelings ordinary words couldn't.

In the aftermath, she'd tell you late at night, huddled in your bed, to look out the window and fixate on the brightest star. To wish upon it and ask for a time when music wasn't needed to fill what silence should. But each time she asked you to, she'd say people also wish upon that star too, and it was doing what it could, but so many other people needed its help along with you.

The two of you needed to help it where you could.

Bad parts had to be a part of your story, too.

Then she was gone.

It's why you hid the box in your closet for so long, shoved up on the top shelf, never to see the light of day.

You were there for some of it when Ridley came up with the idea. She was a brilliant mom but also the type to prepare for anything and everything. The night Sadie turned five, she found the damn thing and spent hours stretching that stupid red tape across the beaten material, hoping it would be enough to withstand time.

You just never knew what she had added to it over time.

Sadie was asking, forcing you to confront what you couldn't do yourself. Because in that shoebox, labelled across the top...

Everything I never want you to forget

"We need to open it, Aunt Liz," she said softly with a sniffle, looking down at the box between her hands.

You didn't want to.

Sliding her knees out from under her, Sadie sat on the floor, still holding onto the shoebox. She turned her back to face you, wiggling herself in between your open legs to sit up against your front, pinning you against the fridge. She placed the box in her lap, tilting her head back against your shoulder to peer at your face.

"I'm not getting up until we go through this box."

"Sadie.."

"Mum would want me to do this with you."

Which roughly translated to, because you won't do it otherwise. Not unless I make you.

Ridley's last words, contained in an ordinary shoebox, as if that's all her life amounted to because an idiotic man with an ego complex proclaimed to love her when he didn't. One man who couldn't care less than the ego he carried around his back gave you one of the greatest loves of your life.

And the only regret.

Bargaining.

Then again, Sadie ever would have come to live with you. The Daggers might not have been your friends. Jake would have never been invited to a Saturday night. You would never have fallen in love with him.

Those were the what-ifs you had to contend with. Maybe you silently did believe in regrets after all.

Sadie grabbed your wrist, wrapping your arm around her stomach so you'd hold her. She grabbed your other, placing your hand down upon the top of the box. You let your fingers rest on the lid, drawing out a shakey breath.

Once Sadie was sure you weren't going to lift your hand off the box, she let it go, moving to grab the other side of it. She took a deep breath, squeezing your wrist once before tucking her fingers under the lid to open it. You'd be lying if you didn't say you held her a little closer as you caught the lid, as its contents came into view.

You didn't know where to look first; your hand in no rush to move from where you had left it on the floor. There were a lot of polaroids, knick-knacks from adventures, and jean jacket patches you had never seen before. There was even a Bowie CD, and despite your weariness, you couldn’t find the will to stop the corners of your mouth from curling upwards.

Sadie, however, picked up the first item she set her eyes on.

"What's this from?" She asked, holding up a key. You placed your hand behind hers, using your thumb to stroke the metal base.

"Ah," you sniffed. "That was the key to our first apartment. Remember how we told you your mom and I ran away from home?"

Sadie nodded, still looking down at the piece of metal. "You guys weren't safe."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "We weren't. Your mom had been saving up money, and I was trying to save up for school. And we had some money saved from your grandmother. It was a tiny place, but that was the first time we finally felt like we could breathe. She went to nursing school soon after that."

You failed to mention you put your dreams on hold so your sister could have hers, especially after what she did to get the two of you out of there. You would do it all over again if you could.

Sadie carefully placed the key back into the box, unphased by the crack of thunder over the house, deciding to grab at the handful of Polaroids next, scattering them in her lap.

While she started looking through the pictures, you fixed your eyes on the white envelopes shoved tight in the back of the box, their colour the only thing standing out with the next flash of lightning. You knew they were letters, with different things written across the front. You reached for them, hands fumbling with the thickness as you took in the names and titles written across each one.

Two caught your attention, making you whimper as the realization of their significance came twofold.

They read...

(My darling Lizzie) - To him.

And...

(My Sadie Bug) - To your Uncle

You slid them under your leg, knowing that there might be a day when Jake would sit down in private, with or without you or Sadie, to read the words and introduction your sister wrote him if he so chose.

If he made it back, the thought forbidden in your head.

There was also another pair - one for you and one for Sadie.

Hers had been first when you picked them up, and she reached out with her hand, dropping the photo she had been holding in her lap when she noticed the writing. Her small fingers trailed over the words "My Bug" written across the front. You pressed a kiss to the back of her head, letting her take it from you.

"If you want to read it alone or with me, that's up to you."

Sadie didn't do anything else but nod, pulling the thick piece of paper close to her chest and dropping her chin to hug it tight.

The power had long since returned after the storm had passed, but neither you nor Sadie could pick yourselves up off the kitchen floor. Not until the last photo, item, object, or memory Ridley had left in that shoe box had been touched. Not until Sadie asked all her questions about what each meant or where some of the photographs had been taken... till you explained memories associated with them.

Even then, when Sadie returned the last Polaroid and placed the lid back on top, she remained curled up in your arms, head against your chest, with her fingers caught in the ball chain of Jake's dog tags around your neck.

You had finally opened the box. Went through its contents. And yet...

"I don't know what we should do now," you told her, rubbing at your face, your head throbbing.

Sadie shifted slightly in your hold, hands holding one of Jake's tags.

"Maybe we could watch a movie?" she suggested quietly. The next words out of your mouth surprised you slightly.

"Maybe Pride and Prejudice... if that is okay?"

---

You had no idea where the sudden urge to go on this trip came from. But waking up with Sadie in your arms on the couch the morning after the two of you went through Ridley's box, you couldn't fight it.

Nat was more than ready the second you called her up, asking if she wanted to accompany you and Sadie on a road trip for the long weekend. She originally thought it was a girl's weekend, which you wouldn't have minded had it not been for your destination.

"I'll pack my bag," she said, no questions asked.

Sadie and Nat were still asleep when you left the hotel room, leaving a note on your bed you'd be back soon. It was still dark out, the sun just barely on the cusp of threatening to show itself when you climbed into your car and drove off.

Sadie had made you promise the both of you would visit Ridley. It was the whole purpose of your trip. To bring flowers, say hi, and so Sadie and you could tell her how much you both loved her. You were going too - there was no question.

But you needed to do this for yourself first.

You pulled off the main road onto the familiar dirt one, driving down the path until you reached the makeshift parking lot, all stone and roughed-up dirt. You were completely alone, save for two cars parked on either end.

You still had ways to go to reach your destination.

Before climbing out of your car, you reached into the back seat and pulled out Ridley's Jean Jacket. You put it on, bundling the lapels tight together across your chest in some blind attempt to shield yourself from the morning chill before you start your hike.

She preferred it this way, anyway.

You spent a good twenty minutes walking over muddy patches and rocky terrain, battling rogue tree roots in the lack of sunlight. There was another route you could have taken, perhaps the easier one, but you had trekked this trail with Ridley so many times before. It was only fair you kept up the tradition.

But then the trees began to thin out, the sound of chirping birds grew louder, and you could smell just a hint of wildflowers with each intake of breath.

You emerged from the woods, looking up from the ground to take in the sight before you. The meadow had remained untouched since you were here last. The grass was overgrown, each dew-kissed blade a product of the low-hanging mist just above the ground. There were flowers in full bloom, and even this early in the morning, with the morning sky painting shades of purple twilight, you could still make out dragonflies passing by.

And there, right in the middle of it all, the perfectly sculpted piece of grey marble. The only human-made thing that seemed to grace this meadow.

As you stepped forward, the grass caressed your legs and dampened your jeans. The closer you got, the more the engraving stood out, the letters making your heartache.

In loving Memory

Trailing your fingers across the headstone, you wiped away the dust that had gathered there since you buried her here last year. The dew from the early morning fog stained your fingers brown as you did so, but you couldn't care less. She was alone out here, peacefully at rest in this meadow.

You could handle a little dirt on your fingers.

You cleared away the dried leaves and twigs, smoothing the grass down before settling yourself onto the damp earth, your back meeting the hard stone. You listened to the birds, the crickets and the wind, taking in the utter silence before you finally spoke out loud.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, Rids."

You tilted your head back until it came to rest against the stone, closing your eyes. "I miss you. So much. Every day, every moment, every breath. Because it feels like everything I do reminds me I'm living without you."

Now that you were here, the words were coming easy. Easier than any conversation you have ever had in your life.

"I can't even admit I cannot remember the last thing we spoke about over the phone," You sniffed. "I've gone almost a whole year trying to forget you had died, and I cannot remember the last fucking thing I said to you."

With your eyes still closed, you felt the first breath of warmth touch your cheek, and a soft orange appeared behind your eyelids.

"I guess I should start with the most important thing." You said, finally opening your eyes. "The bug is... Better than me."

It was so true. Sadie had done so much better than you could have ever hoped when you brought her home.

"Everyone says she is so wise for her age," you huffed out a sad laugh. "But we would see it differently, wouldn't we? After everything we endured, after everything she has had to endure... she didn't have a choice but to grow up and handle the things being thrown at her."

You brought your knees up to your chest, hugging them tight.

"Oh, I met someone," you laughed sadly, knowing she'd want to know, just like she always did when you called. "He's an aviator. He walked right up to me at the bar and tried to get me into his bed."

Despite your sadness, you managed a small smile at the memory.

"I Bowied him," you chuckled. "The good old wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, you told me to do. I always thought it was a cheesy thing to do when you came up with it, but it's never once failed me. We always loved listening to Suffragette City."

You picked a strain of grass out of the ground, wrapping it between your fingers as you continued.

"The squad told me so much about him before I met him. He was the one responsible for all of Penny's bartenders quitting. I mean, his call sign is Hangman, for god's sake. And Bradley hounded me, thinking I would fall for his trap."

But you did.

You wondered how the two of them were managing wherever they were.

"Then Sadie saw him. Oh god. He helped her with her math homework, and she invited him over, and he brought flowers as an apology. Yellow fucking tulips."

You could almost hear her shout Score for Jake in the back of your mind.

"I gave him a clean slate. Because you always taught me everyone deserves a chance. Because Sadie reminded me of that. And then things just fell into place."

Reaching beneath your shirt, you grasped for the chain, pulling out the dog tags to look at them as you spoke.

"You'd absolutely hate him," you laughed, playing with the rubber casing around one of them, Jake's name always in sight. "He's.. He's so stubborn. Arrogant. Cocky. You would go so far as to say he is a downright asshole who doesn't deserve me."

Jake was all of those things. But he was more, too.

"But he makes me smile, Rids. And Sadie. Oh god, she adores him to no end. I wouldn't have taken a chance on him hadn't it been for her. Our little matchmaker, as if she didn't think I caught on to what she was doing. I think the feeling is mutual, though. He puts her first in so many ways."

You weren't going to utter that asshole's name over her grave by explaining Jake's heroics. This was her peace, and he didn't need to taint it any more than he already had.

"He's a... a Mr. Darcy," you struggled to say, knowing that's exactly what she would have called him.

Reaching into the chest pocket of her jean jacket, you pulled out the envelope with your name on it, bringing it down to hold it in your lap. Both of your hands frame the words written across the front.

Just in case

Your fingers shook as you flipped it over and broke the seal, breath leaving your lips in short bursts. Something possessed you, making you reach in and tug on the pieces of paper folded up inside. Unlike her box, there were no polaroids inside, just the pages with her fancy cursive writing neatly penned to the page.

Once you hesitantly unfolded the pages and read those first words, you couldn't find the will to stop.

Lizzie, you absolute fucking wreck.

How long did it take you to get the courage to read this goddamn letter?

Stop looking so miserable. I swear if I'm looking down on you and you're doing that thing with your face where you're about to cry but won't let yourself, I'll haunt you forever.

That's a lie. I probably already am if I could. If you see sunlight blinding you in the face, say hi. That's probably me.

I know, with 100 percent certainty, it's been a while since I've been gone. How long? I have no idea, but you better not be old and grey, sitting on my grave, finally abandoning your belief about regrets - mostly because this letter wouldn't make one lick of sense.

Besides your inability to grieve properly, I know how hard it's been for you to work up the courage to read this letter. I'm proud of you for taking that leap. You don't need to hear this because there is nothing for you to apologize for, but I forgive you. I know, deep down, the reason you didn't.

It's the thought and facing the reality that you won't see me again, right? Not in this life, maybe not ever, I don't know. And these are supposed to be my 'last words' to you. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. I might have talked a big game about facing your feelings and trying to be calm when trouble comes around, but let's face it: I've been a mother twice over. I think I'm better at hiding the fact that I'm scared, too.

I wish I would have told you that more. I wish I would have let my walls down enough so that you could have helped me too.

But you need to know that as I'm sitting here at my desk, writing this thing, I'm safe in the knowledge that our bug is with the best person I could have ever hoped for as her guardian. And no words could describe just how much that means to me.

Teach her all the good stuff. Not how to mix a cocktail, I swear to god, we don't need Sadie Sass 2.0 in College or University - I doubt you want to live that experience, and I surely didn't. But how you verbally smack every cocky-ass male that tries to take his shot with her, and how you care for everyone, stand up for everyone. Though chances are, we all probably got that particular talent from her, not the other way around. Who knows... You might be reading this, having had one of those cocksure pilots breaking through your brick wall.

... did one of them manage to break through? You better be sitting on my grave telling me all the details. I don't care if I'm dead (I'm morbid... and practical about death, dealt with it).

And even if you haven't, that's okay too. One day, you'll discover someone better than the heroes you read in books, the ones who seem perfect, without a single flaw. They'll be better because this person will have flaws - Love despite, remember?

Also, whoever they are, kick their ass for me a few times for good measure.

I know that right now, you're feeling lost and wondering how you'll ever get through this, how you've managed to get through all this so far.

But you did. You have so far. And you still will.

You have to accept that things do eventually end, despite not wanting them to. And we have to go on without them. A memory is no longer beautiful just because it suddenly has an end.

You need to accept that sometimes you need to cave and break down to break through. You need to heal.

And to understand grief is the price we pay for those we love. I know you're hurting and refusing to acknowledge that you may never hear my voice again or know what I'd have to say or what advice I'd have to give.

The truth is, you do.

You can still hear my words in your head. You always knew what I was going to say before I said it; I doubt death would change any of that. And you still get to see my face. Nobody can take that from you, especially in all the photographs I've left behind.

Please tell me you went through the box. Or Sadie at least made you go through it. Not just grab all the letters. That wasn't the point of me making it.

I want you to remember those memories so you know I am there when you are sad or miss me. And for Sadie, when she feels like she can't remember what I looked like or what was.

Promise me you will add to it. Take photographs with my Polaroid camera and make scrapbooks and memory boxes. Create memories with Sadie so she can look back and say, "I know she would be proud of me too."

And I am. So much so.

You also need to understand you're not alone.

You have a found family in those stupid pilots you call friends (They're not stupid; they're just a group of idiots). They can help you. Please let them. Please let them in, whether it's helping Sadie with her homework or spending time together. Let them remind you it's okay to live for yourself, too.

Yes, take care of our Bug; that trumps everything else. And never forget how much I love you. Always.

But, remember, even above all that, everyone deserves a chance.

Even you.

My darling, beautiful sister.

The sob that broke free as you read her final words was gut-wrenching. It was also cathartic, laced with relief and heartbreak.

In your time reading her letter, you failed to notice the meadow come to life around you. The shift had been gradual. With each word you had read, the sun had peaked just that much more over the horizon, changing the sky from a darkened purple hue to a much lighter one, with light orange-red undertones in a mist that just rested above the grass.

You had seen none of it.

Because your knees had been a poor excuse for support, and you dropped your forehead down to them to curl inward on yourself. You toppled to your side amongst the short grass, the strands barely fitting in your grasp as your tears fell down your face and into the dirt.

By opening that letter and reading what was meant to be her last words to you, you eventually came to the realization there was no way you could have ever protected yourself from all the painful experiences you've been through.

Maybe this feeling was supposed to be forgiving yourself for the blame you've sheltered for so long. To you, it was something different.

Maybe, just maybe, this was something very close to being acceptance.

---

You felt guilty thinking on the drive home. You had felt better than the last time you drove home from Sacramento. The feeling had lasted, even for days after you dropped Nat back home and tried to go on with your life, trying not to worry about what Jake and Bradley were doing.

Or if you'd ever seen them again. You counted down each day as a blessing and a curse. You knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you decided to befriend the entire squad or when you agreed to date Jake.

It still hurt each time they were called up.

But the grief wasn't as much of a burden now as it was a silent companion. You knew it would always be there when you saw her face in the pictures she left or when Sadie would smile. Or when something new would remind you of her.

You had accepted living with it, dealing with it. And knowing it would eventually come back for something else multiple times later on in your life.

It's probably why this morning you felt slightly different. The sense of relief had not waivered, but you couldn't deny something had shifted. Maybe it was the fact you left the window open last night to listen to a far-off storm, the smell of petrichor filling your room as you woke up in the early hours of the morning.

Or maybe it was the way you stretched amongst your covers, relishing in the coolness of your sheets and the softness of your pillow. Or how you sat up, pausing for a second to watch the specks of dust float through the early morning sunbeams slipping through your curtains. You lifted your hand, inspecting how your fingers cut through the warm rays and cast shadows onto your floor.

You smiled in contentment.

Making your way to your bathroom, the hot water was welcoming as you stepped into your shower. You spent a few minutes there, waking up under the pressure on your skin, before stepping out and drying off, reaching for your silk robe from off the back of the door.

But walking back to your room, you caught your reflection in your mirror from the doorway, suddenly entranced. You found yourself gravitating towards it, slowly stepping forward until you stood right in front of it.

Smoothing down the slides of the fabric of your robe, you played with the lacey hem. Till you reached up to tuck a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, and found your fingers hooking underneath the chain around your neck, sliding down until Jake's tags slid out from their hiding place.

You bit your lip, rocking back and forth while contemplating, when Sadie's Polaroid camera stood out in the background of your reflection. She had placed it in your bag for the trip home, and you had yet to return it to her after you unpacked, leaving it atop your dresser.

You turned slowly, eyeing the camera for a few seconds before walking over to your dresser. You picked it up, holding it in your hands for a few seconds before looking over to your bed and then back to your dresser.

Why you suddenly felt possessed to do this, you had no idea.

Inspecting the dial on the top, you weren't in control as you watched your hand reach out to turn it clockwise, one click at a time. You were surprisingly calm as you placed it back down on your dresser, parallel to your bed, and pressed the button on the other side, starting a quiet, ticking countdown from the tiny camera.

Climbing back into your bed, you faced the camera, undoing the small strings on your robe, letting the sides fall just enough to reveal the inside curves of your breasts and the top half of your stomach. And there, right in the middle, Jake's dog tags hanging between.

It felt awkward, forbidden even, to lean back so exposed, so open. With the old-fashioned lens sitting on your dresser, the dial clicking down as you positioned yourself on your mattress, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

It was Sadie's Camera, for god's sake.

You heard the shutter go off, the mechanical whirling of the piece of photo paper running through the tiny printer, and fluttering as it landed on your bedroom floor.

You opened your eyes, jolting up like you had been splashed with cold water, shocked you had even done such a thing.

Yet, you still slid out from the covers, eyeing the photo from where it landed, slowly walking over. You carefully picked it up, watching as the image faded into view.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You pressed the printout to your chest, staring up at your open door, wondering if Sadie had woken up yet. With the printout in hand, you practically ran into your office, shutting the door behind you and throwing yourself into your chair. Reaching for your bottom drawer, you pulled out a thick envelope and lined pieces of paper, scrambling for one of the pens on your desk.

You hadn't written a letter since the last time Jake had been on a deployment. Back then, you had struggled to find the words to say to him. You didn't have a problem this time. As soon as black ink hit the page, you couldn't stop writing down every thought and feeling as fast as you could.

When you were finally finished, you threw yourself back into the chair, sighing once before looking down at the pieces of paper. You grabbed them, folding the pieces in half and shoving them into the envelope, sliding the single polaroid behind them. You hadn't sealed it yet, but you did close it, writing along the back, hoping Jake would appreciate and understand the message.

Sadie's bedroom door opening and closing could be heard through the wall, and a smile stretched across your face as an idea popped into your head.

"Hey, Bug! I'm sending Uncle Jake a letter. Got any polaroids you want to send?!"

Tag List:

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-Wickett ;)

Part 20 - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Coming Soon

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

LOVE AND WAR

001; I CAN BRING YOU IN WARM

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Warnings: guns, violence, alcohol, drunkness, blood, knives, allusion to slavery

Summary: you had spent your entire life running, from corellia, from your family, from the empire and now from bounty hunters. But when one man sees how you care for his child, what is he going to do with himself, especially as he finds himself falling for you

Wordcount: 3.9k

Daiyu was the worst planet you’d ever been on and it wasn't for the lack of nightlife or for the lack of interesting jobs but because of its weather. With a dark black hood over your head, hands pressed into the pockets as you walked through the crowded cities, you scanned the area for anyone with a bounty puck.

This time 6 years ago, you were one of the most celebrated people in the entire galaxy. You had people fawning over you left right and centre, you had more medals than you could possibly want and you had everything. Or so you thought.

You tried not to think about that time of your life too often and on a planet like this, you didn't have to think about much about anything for too long of a time. It was easier to sit there in one of the bars, a drink in your hand as you drowned in the neon lights and the large crowds that swarmed the city.

However, the planet required you to constantly be looking over your shoulder, always watching out for the next person who was going to try and attack you, whether it be imperial sympathisers, random drunken men with no impulse control or bounty hunters.

You had spent your entire 20s saving the galaxy, joining in on the rebellion and whilst your brother and your best friends got to sit pretty in their Jedi training camps or their coruscant apartments or their thrones, you were stuck living day by day, hiding from bounty hunters.

There was no way to determine when you changed from the hero to the girl being hunted down by Bounty Hunters every other week but you assumed it had something to do with Lady Proxima, a tall white grindalid who looked after you - more like worked to the core - after your parents death.

She was the one who had set the bounty after you nearly eighteen months ago now and though you wished you could escape it, you had no regrets for trying to kill her - the act that landed you with a bounty in the first place.

In the distance, you spotted the nearby nightclub and cantina and it wasnt hard to distinguish its flashing lights from the dark dreary weather on Daiyu. You looked around, pulling the hood off your head as you took shelter under the opening to a loud nightclub. You looked around before stepping inside, entering the world of drugs and mayhem and forgetting.

Hesitantly at first, you pushed your way through the mass of people that had grouped in the middle, dancing along with the live band in the corner. You pushed past a human and a zabrak making out in front of the bar as you tried to make it to the alcohol as fast as possible.

You pulled a chair back at the bar, your jacket now draped over your lap as you called out to the twi’lek at the bar to bring you a drink. In a few seconds, she placed the drink on the bar in front of you, waiting for you to slide a handful of credits across the smooth surface before walking away.

You reach for the shot glass on the table, swirling it around for a second before pulling it to your lips and downing the glass in one fluid motion, throwing your head back before putting the glass back down on the table.

The burning feeling was present in the back of your throat, causing your nose to scrunch up in a mix of disgust and euphoria as you allowed the drink to overwhelm your senses. You opened your eyes, pushing your lips together as you looked at the bartender again, hand raised to signal her over.

Before she made it over to you, another man slid up next to you. He was a slimy man with greasy blonde hair that was sticking to his temple and the way that he looked at you, almost like a stick of meat, made you sick to your stomach.

“You want to buy some death sticks?” He questioned, his voice hoarse like he'd been smoking them all morning - and it wasn't even 12 o’clock yet, not like you’d be able to tell that with the dreary grey weather on the planet.

You had dealt with your fair share of assholes at bars - actually, you had dealt with your fair share of assholes in general - but today you were not in the headspace to fight with him.

It had been nine years since the day that you had lost your best friend, a memory that you didn't want to spend too much time thinking about. All you wanted to do was drown in your liquor and forget about the troubles of the world, to just watch it spin around you.

“She doesn't want to do that,” a deep voice said and you felt chills run down your spine at the sound of it. There was something about this low, almost modulated voice that drew you to him and slowly, you turned around to see a man standing there.

He was tall and still but the most recognisable feature was that he was covered in armour. It was glistening, multi-coloured in the club's neon lights and there was no expression in his body language and you couldn’t see his face to determine what he was thinking either.

You took a deep breath in, eyes narrowing on the man. You two were looking at each other - or at least you assumed he was looking at you - and neither was moving. The man trying to sell you death sticks just rolled his eyes, standing up and tucking his seat in before stumbling towards the group of people to sell too.

You hadn’t realised that you’d been staring at the man for too long, an uncomfortable amount of time really, but when you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you looked away from his visor and back at the new shot on the bar in front of you, “I don’t need to be saved,”

He didn't make a noise, just reaching into his pocket and before you could panic and imagine him pulling out a blaster and shooting you point blank, he pulled out a holo-puck and you couldn’t figure out which scenario was worse. You stared at your face as it spun around on top of the holo-puck, your name plastered at the top of it.

Your eyes trailed from the puck to him and he hasn't moved a muscle. There was something uncovering about the man and you couldn’t tell whether it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face and recognise any emotions, or if it was his regular demeanour.

“I guess this means you’re not going to buy me a drink,” you teased, standing up from your seat at the bar. Now standing up, you realised how tall he was, towering over you as you tried to find an escape plan.

He didn't laugh at the joke and you assumed his face was as emotionless as his body as he stated, “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” The modulator made his voice deep, the sound reverberating through your body.

Your breath hitched in your throat because although you should be scared of this emotionless bounty hunter who was probably here to kill you, you werent. There was something about him that you couldn’t put your finger on that made you feel intimidated yet secure.

“What does cold entail?” You questioned, hoping the slight fear bubbling up wasn't too obvious in your voice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly. Nobody had ever asked him that before and if Din was being honest, you weren’t like any bounty he had hunted down before. One, you were definitely the most beautiful bounty he had ever encountered. And two, you were the most calm; everyone else would either be running or begging at this point but you were doing neither, just staring him down like you could see through the visor.

“Carbonate,” he stated, his voice cold.

You felt a shiver run up your spine at the word, and not the good kind of shiver. There weren't many things that scared you in this universe, maker, you’d even encountered Darth Vader himself bur carbonate, that was what scared you. You’d seen someone you cared dearly about be stuck in there for half a year and you’d seen what it could do.

He noticed your shift in demeanour at that movement. Whilst your face didn't react to the words, he could see the flash of fear in your eyes, a small crease appearing between your brows.

“Well then Mr Mandalorian, I think I might have outstayed my welcome,” you stated and before he could respond to what you said or even comprehend it, you were ducking down under his clas arm the knife which appeared in your hand dragging along a slit between the pieces.

He swore under his breath, eyes scanning the room before seeing someone with a similar hood to yours running out of the door into the pouring rain and when you made the mistake of turning back round, hood falling from your head, his eyes met yours and he started running through the crowd.

Din shook his head as he pushed through the high and intoxicated people of the planet, knocking one or two of the down as he tried to make it up for the maker forsaken club.

When he got outside, the rain hitting his armour, he scanned the area for you but he had no idea where you went. He shook his head, unsure how he could’ve lost you.

The sound of a vendor yelling and a crate of fruit falling to the floor in a near alleyway was a telltale sign of escape and he decided to hitch his bets and chase down that way and lucky for him, the maker was on his side today as he saw you running round the corner, wet from the rain.

He chased after you, feet carrying him as fast as he could as he raced around the unfamiliar streets of Daiyu. He didn't know why you were being hunted but he didn’t care, as long as it gave him enough money for petrol and food for him and Grogu.

You looked behind you, swearing out loud as you trod in a puddle, broken shoes filling with water. You kept going despite the pain in your legs and the burning in your lungs. You’d be damned if you survived Darth Vader himself but a Mandalorian took you out.

Stopping round a corner, your hands on your legs as you caught your breath, you thought you’d be okay and you were. You found the best way out but then you saw a group of men shooting at this round ball.

You watched as they laughed to themselves, shooting at this thing that you suddenly recognised as a pram. That’s when you spotted a small green alien sitting behind the pedestal, looking up at you.

Every instinct told you that you had to keep running from that Mandalorian bounty hunter that was pretty ready to ‘take you in cold’ but your morals told you that you had to save the little baby from whatever these rogue gang members wanted from him.

You sighed, shaking your head as you pulled your blaster out, closing one of your eyes as you shot one of the three men in the head, killing him instantly. The next shot hit the second man in the stomach and he doubled over, hands on his stomach as the other man searched for where the gunshot came from.

He let out a yell as he noticed you, the two men shooting at you and you managed to take them both down before rushing down and grabbing the child. He was small and green and as you held him in your arms, he reached out for you with little green hands.

“What’s your name, little one?” You asked, watching as he grasped one of your fingers with his little hand. He just babbled and you assumed that he was too small to answer you so you smiled, giving him your name.

When you heard more yelling and blaster fire, you assumed that there were more gang members and you hid behind a wall, hearing them yelling about finding the child.

“They're talking about you kiddo?” You questioned, voice quiet so that they didn’t hear you. He cooed, a mischievous smile on his face and you assumed it was him.

You didn't know what to do, just waiting and looking around and hoping that they had passed. You had also managed to escape the Mandalorian that was after you and as soon as you got this kid back to his family, you were going to get off of this planet and find the next hiding spot, maybe .

That's when you heard more blaster fire and the body of one of the gang members fell down at your feet as you shielded the child from its view.

You assumed that they were all dead when it went quiet and you stepped out hesitatingly, blaster in one hand and the child in your other. He cooed, smiling up at you as you looked around, “Listen, don’t be worried, i'm going to find your parents,”

You felt a presence behind you and froze up, turning around and looking up at The Mandalorian who had been hunting you down earlier. He was wet from the rain as well and when he noticed that you had a little child in your arms, he tilted his head in confusion.

Now it was your time to start bartering and you stepped back, holding the child closer to your chest, “Listen, take me in warm, I don’t care, just let me find this kid's parents,” you said.

Din felt his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you, an insanely beautiful bounty, holding his child to your chest protectively. There was something weird about the feeling bubbling up in his chest, one that he’d never felt before.

The child reached his little arms out, giggling to himself as he tried to reach for Din and you looked at it confused, “He’s mine,” he stated, a small bit of emotion evident in his voice.

Your brows furrowed as you looked down at him, the child cooing in your arms as you placed him back down in his slightly battered cot. He used the controls, going back over to Din and looking up at him.

“You’re an awful parent, leaving him here alone,” you said, your blaster still in your hand. You

Din smiled to himself under the helmet, glad that you couldn’t see his amused reaction to your comment, “I didn’t, he must have escaped my ship,” he stated, that cold tone to his voice.

You sighed, looking up at him. You brushed your wet hair from your face, only now realising that you were still standing in the rain, “You gonna take me in warm Mr Mandalorian?” You asked, hands held out in surrender.

He cocked his head to the side and you definitely recognised that movement as confusion, “You’re just giving up like that?” He questioned.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m not going to be able to convince you to let me go,” you stated and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket, eyes narrowed and focused on her; he didn’t understand why she was just letting him take her away.

He had his hands on the restraints, about to put them on her when more gang members sped around the corner, looking around for the two of them - and by that, they were looking for Din and Grogu.

The Mandalorians head was spinning with the events of the days and his oddly submissive bounty and as he looked at the people who were hunting down the child and trying to kill him, he knew he had to make a rash decision that any other day he would scold himself for.

He turned to you, pushing your hands down and putting the restraints back onto his belt, “Can you shoot?” He asked, his voice still cold but now you could sense a bit of fear in it. It was strange, how you could feel this emotionless man opening up to you little by little but you could.

“Can I shoot?” You teased, repeating the question back at him before pursing your lips together and nodding, “Of course I can,”

Din nodded, looking down at you just as the gang members looked into the alleyway, one of them exclaiming that they had found the child and you wondered what was so interesting and lucrative about this kid that this many people were ready to die for.

He looked back at you, taking a few steps forward, “Stay in front of the kid okay,” he stated and you nodded, watching as he began shooting at them.

You looked back at the child who put the lid over his pram and you turned back and started shooting, the sound of blaster fire echoing through the alleyway.

This morning when you woke up in tha5 small, damp hostel, this wasn’t how you expected the day to go. You would never have imagined that you would be standing in the pouring rain, fighting alongside the man who was trying to take you in as a bounty so that you could protect his son.

You slid down, the rain making the cobblestone pavement wet as you slid under the man's legs, slicing through his thighs with your knife and watching as he collapsed down, your knife jamming into the back of his neck. You pulled it out with a grunt, wiping the blade on your trousers before grabbing your blaster and shooting the man behind you.

Din watched in awe, he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone, especially not towards a bounty but the second that he had laid eyes on you in the cantina bar, he knew there was something special about you and now, as you stabbed men to protect his son, he shouldn’t have felt as turned on as he did.

You turned around, spinning on the heel of your foot as you shot another one, watching him fall down with a scream. It was the last man and as you took a deep breath, pushing your wet hair out of your face and looking at the Mandalorian, you smiled.

He watched as you stepped over the myriad of bodies on the floor, using the pad of your thumb to wipe some of the blood that had splattered on your chin away and you walked up to the cot, watching as the child opened the lid.

He chuckled at the sight of you and you smiled back at him before looking up at the Mandalorian. Your smile fell as your eyes landed on his helmet, unable to see what he was thinking and he was glad you couldn’t see underneath because he was sure that from the heat on his cheeks, he was blushing like a schoolboy.

There was an awkward silence that fell as you looked around at the bodies that littered the floor of the alleyway and you held your hands out again, “Take me in warm?” You questioned.

You could hear the faint sound of his breath hitching in his throat through the modulator as he pushed your hands away. He watched as your brows pulled together, a deep crease appearing between them as you looked up at him, "They won't be needed,"

You chuckled, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lips, "You might be the nicest bounty hunter I've ever encountered," you stated and Din knew that if you could see under his helmet, you'd have teased him for the way his cheeks were bright red as he looked at you.

Being in his mid thirties, he had spent the best part of twenty years hidden under the helmet and away from the world and with his helmet on, he could be as expressive as he wanted, a superpower that was working overtime right now.

"Lets go," he said, keeping his head held high as the child followed in the hovering pram next to him.

You had so many questions that were trying to bubble up to the surface but you pushed them away, not wanting to agrivate the man who was being so kind to you whilst holding your life in his hands.

Some people looked at you as you walked alongside him and now you wondered if the attention was from the gunfire earlier or from the large Mandalorian you were walking with.

You looked up at him, continuing to walk. You’d only encountered one mandalorian before and he had been a bounty hunter too but you knew that’s not all they ever did. The one you were walking with now hadnt told you his name unlike the last one and this one was a lot more quiet and reserved.

There were so many questions swimming in your head and it made you dizzy as you wondered what this man wanted and why he was being so kind. Why did he have a kid? Why was he green? Was the Mandalorian green? What was your bounty for? What did he want?

“You okay?” He asked, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts and that’s when you’d realsied you’d stopped and had been staring at him for at least thirty seconds. He had his head cocked to the side, one hand on his hip as he stopped as well a few feet in front of you.

He was waiting for your answer and you nodded, a smile appearing on your face to try and be polite as you started walking again, “Just got lost in thought, its been a long day,” you stated, tryin to make your excuse sound plausible. You couldn’t just explain that you’d been staring at him.

Din hummed in response, continuing to walk alongside you, guiding you in right direction towards a ship that you recognised as a razor crest. You walked towards it, one hand brushing over the cold and slightly wet metal of the ship as you looked back at him, eyes wide, “You have a Razor Crest?”

He nodded, walking over to you, “Let’s go,” he said and your face dropped as you watched him walk up the ramp, remembering that you were just a bounty to him like you’d already forgotten that.

He didnt notice and just watched as you walked up the ramp as well, looking around at the room and watching as he picked up the child and placed him on the floor. The little child giggled, running in the direction of the cockpit and you just watched, as smile on your face.

Din looked back at you, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the smile on your face and when you made eye contact - or he made eye contact with you - he gestured to the cockpit, “You probably want to come sit down, we’re going to jump into hyperspace soon,” he explained.

You nodded, muttering a thank you as you squeezed past him into the cockpit, seeing the child having already strapped himself into the seat behind the pilots seat. Din came in, his hand brushing against the child’s head which made him laugh, before he sat down in the pilots seat.

You strapped yourself in, eyes focused on the front window as you felt that familiar presssure of hyperspace, watching the blue lights in the distance get closer, laughing you three into an unknown destination to you. But you were so ready for it.

So this is the first chapter of the bounty x bounty hunter series and I hope you enjoyed it, I really love the concept and can't wait to expand on it. If you liked it, I would love to hear any feedback. Also, I am going to be opening a taglist so if you want to be added, just send an ask or comment on here, I don't mind. Hope you enjoyed it :)

Taglist:

@babygirlrex0504

[guqwrvte]

hello !! i have a request for your quote game :)

“I’ll take care of you,” he soothes, “so let me, please.”

with any boy i don’t mind, thank you sm !!

⨽ pairing: taehyung x hybrid f!reader

⨽ genre: honestly i don't know. hurt/comfort(?) angst (?)

⨽ warnings: crying, very brief mentions of past abuse, trust issues, talk about scars and wounds, all that kinda stuff

⨽ a/n: took me ages to get to this request, but i hope you like it! (p.s - this a long one)

---

Taehyung's eyes softened as he watched you try to treat your wounds. 

So many nurses and caretakers at the care centre wanted to lend you a hand. But you'd refuse to be touched, quickly moving away as soon as someone got too close. 

He bought you here a week ago. And the whole time you've been here, you've isolated yourself. Completely. 

You didn't talk to anyone. Not any of the doctors, the nurses, caretakers or other hybrids. You stuck to yourself. 

"I wish she'd let us near her," Luna, one of his co-workers and friend, sighed. "She did a good job taking care of the ones she could reach. But the ones she can't reach need to be treated too."

"I wonder what she went through for her to not trust anyone. Including the other tiger hybrids who are the same species as her." This time, it was Haerin that spoke. A nurse who mainly worked with predatory and exotic hybrids. "I was horrified at the state she was in when Tae brought her here."

"I was horrified when I found her," he sighed. 

He found you on a Friday night, hiding by a dumpster in an alley near his home. 

He remembers how he had just gotten off the phone with one of his friends when he heard something whimpering and some movement.

"Hello?" He called, walking into the alley, and turning on the flashlight on his phone. "Is anyone here- oh my god."

His eyes widened in horror as his light landed on a badly wounded tiger hybrid trying to hide behind some trash.

The tiger was clearly hurt and definitely not dressed for the chilly weather. 

"Oh my gosh, how did you end up here?" He muttered, taking off his jacket before slowly approaching you.

It was clear you weren't just a stray hybrid. It looked like you became a stray after escaping from what could've been an abusive owner, given the number of scars and open wounds on your body.

The closer he got to you, the more you backed into the black plastic bag you were sitting in front of. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Taehyung said, raising his hands. "I work as a hybrid doctor at a care centre. I want to treat your wounds and give you some meds. So they don't get infected." 

His eyes landed on some of the scars and cuts on your arms and legs. He noticed how new they looked. It was clear you got them recently, and he couldn't help but wonder how long you'd been hiding here. 

"Here. You can take my jacket to cover yourself," Taehyung said, extending his jacket only for you to flinch away from the material. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. But I'll have to take you to my place since I don't have anything to help with those one me."

He noticed the way your eyes slightly widened. "Oh, um, I know you probably don't trust me enough to go home with me. But if you stay here, they'll get infected. And you would be in even more pain than you are in now."

He didn't expect you to take his jacket. 

To you, he probably looked like a predator... someone trying to gain your trust, only to betray you as soon as the door closes. 

But he was surprised when you hesitantly took the jacket from him to cover yourself. 

"Come with me," he softly smiled, taking a step back because he figured you wouldn't want him to touch you yet. 

You only let him touch you when he was treating your wounds. Other than that, you made sure you were at least more than a meter away from him.

"I wonder why she won't let you assist her again," Luna muttered. "She's let you treat her before, so why not again?"

"I'm guessing she only let me because she was desperate. She was hesitant to go home with me, but she took the risk because she was desperate," Taehyung said. "She didn't even say a word the entire time I was with her. I asked for her name, her age, anything! But she refused to speak."

"And she's still refusing to speak," Haerin groaned. "I tried checking the system, but she wasn't there. It seems like she's one of those hybrids born in breeding facilities and stuff."

"I'm going try and help her... again," Taehyung sighed. "If she refuses, one of you should try. She might want a woman instead."

The two girls nodded before he began to approach you. 

"Hey," he said, crouching down to your level. 

His presence caused you to tense, and you stopped what you were doing. 

"I'm only here to offer a helping hand again. Allow me to assist you with the ones you can't reach."

When Taehyung reached for a cotton ball, you immediately shifted away, pulling your stuff with you. 

"You can't leave those untreated, sweetie," he sighed. "I know you'd prefer doing it alone, but for your back, you're going to need one of the doctors to help you."

You didn't even look at him as he spoke to you. 

"If you don't want me to do it, I can ask someone else?" He said, getting up/ "How about Doctor-"

"No."

Taehyung's eyes widened, surprised to hear you speak. Your voice was so soft you were almost inaudible. 

"Huh?" he asked, crouching back down and sitting in front of you. "Please, can you repeat that?"

"Don't want another doctor," you muttered. 

"So, do you want me to check on the ones on your back?" Taehyung asked, and you nodded, deciding to no longer use your voice. 

"Should I just do it here, or do you want to move to my office?" he asked, taking the bag of cotton balls. 

"Here."

He let out a sigh before nodding. He would've wanted to treat you in his office. That way, he could talk to you freely and try to ask you some things.

But he figured you probably didn't want to be alone with him right now. 

"Alright, please turn around," he asked, picking up some ointment. "I'm going to touch you, okay? But only because I'm treating you. As soon as we're done, I won't touch you until the next time to take off those bandages all over your face and arms."

You only nodded before Taehyung slipped on some gloves and began to apply the ointment. 

"You know... we're going to have to know your name one day," he said.

You figured there was no point in them knowing your name if you'll escape as soon as you were healed. 

You didn't say a word, and the two of you remained in silence before you mustered the courage to ask- "Why?"

"Well, I can't keep referring to you as the tiger hybrid I brought in last week when I'm talking to my colleagues," Taehyung said. "But also because I'd like to call you by your name. I want to greet you and say: Hey... whatever your name is! How are you today?"

You didn't respond, which is something he kinda expected. So it became silent again. 

As he gently began to take off the old plasters, you couldn't stop thinking about Taehyung wanting to know your name so he could call you by it. You hadn't heard anyone say your name in ages. 

Where you came from, your owner never addressed you by your name. Instead, he'd always call you kitten. A nickname you've now grown to absolutely hate. 

You wondered how it would feel to have someone greet you with a smile and call you-

"y/n."

"Huh?" Taehyung asked. 

"My name. It's y/n."

He wondered why you finally decided to speak today. But that didn't matter. He was glad you were now comfortable enough to tell him your name. 

"You have such a nice name, y/n," he smiled. 

"Thank you," you whispered, and he nodded. 

"Your wounds are healing nicely. You did a good job," Taehyung said, putting on the last plaster on your back. "I'd say tomorrow will be the last time we exchange them."

You only nodded before pulling the back of your t-shirt down and reaching for Taehyung's jacket. 

"We're going to need to buy you new clothes," he sighed, standing up. "You can't keep wearing my jacket forever."

You knew you should've returned it to him that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to part from the comforting scent of vanilla on the jacket. 

"Do you want it now?" You asked, preparing to take off the jacket. 

"No!" you flinched, causing him to slap a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so loud. You don't have to give it to me now, y/n. You can keep it for as long as you'd like to."

You muttered an okay, causing Taehyung to softly smile.

"Doctor Kim!" Luna called. 

"I don't want to leave you alone, but it looks like I have to go," he said. "Why don't you try to talk to other hybrids? There are lots of them who want to talk to you, y/n. And it wouldn't hurt to make a friend."

Your eyes unconsciously glanced at the group of tiger hybrids laughing together. 

You wanted to be part of them, but you were scared. You came from a place where you'd get in trouble if you dared to make a noise. So seeing hybrids be as loud as they wanted was new and kinda strange to you.

"See you later, y/n."

When Taehyung reached Luna, who was now alone since Hyerin had to attend to some hybrids, she looked at him with a sly smile.

"Are you going to adopt her?" Luna asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Which caused the male to raise a brow. "Don't look at me like that. Anyone can see the way you look at her."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked. 

"You probably won't notice, but I can. You just- I don't know. You look at y/n differently, and I don't know how to explain it. You look at that girl like you want to take her in your arms! And protect her from everything."

"Are you not exaggerating?"

"Maybe I am, but hey," she shrugged. "It's clear you want to care for her. Not on the level as patient and doctor but something a little more."

"Can we talk about this in my office?" He sighed. "I don't know where you're going with this... but I'd rather talk there than hear."

Some hybrid species had exceptional hearing. You are part of them since a tiger hybrid's sense of hearing is the most acute of all their senses.

"Okay," she said before turning away and walking to his office. 

.

"Dr Kim," you said, sitting in a chair.

"I told you to only call me that when we're in front of others," he said, not bothering to look up from the chart he was looking at. 

It had been two weeks since you told him your name and three weeks of being in the centre. During these two weeks, you've become more talkative. You still talked in a hushed tone and sometimes stuttered as you spoke, but you were finally saying sentences that were more than five words long.  

"Taehyung," you corrected yourself, causing the man to look up from his work with a smile.

"Yes, y/n?" 

"Are you very busy," you said, fiddling with your fingers. "I have news I'd like to... news I'd like to share."

"Not really. Why? What's up?" He asked, closing the file and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he listened to you speak. 

"I Uhm..." you suddenly felt nervous. 

As you walked to his office, you thought it'd be easy to tell him, but all the confidence you had earlier seemed to have disappeared. 

"Just tell me, y/n," he smiled. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I promise."

"Well... I tried making friends," you spilt. 

Taehyung blinked in confusion. You said it so fast that he could barely catch what you said. The only thing he could hear was friends.

"What was that, y/n?" He asked. "Can you repeat what you said but slower this time?"

"I Uhm... well, I tried making friends with some of the tiger hybrids I share a room with," you said, a small smile appearing on your face. "They were really nice!"

He couldn't help but feel happy for you. 

He was so happy to see you were improving. He was glad you were no longer keeping to yourself and finally deciding to socialise. 

"I'm so happy for you, y/n," he smiled. 'What did you guys talk about?"

As you began to tell him about what you and your roommates talked about, Taehyung couldn't help but think about what Luna said. 

"Come on, Tae," Luna groaned. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to take care of y/n on more than a doctor and patient level. You can take care of her on an owner and-"

"You know I don't like the word owner," Taehyung said, cutting off his friend. 

"Sorry. But anyway, I'm suggesting once y/n's comfortable enough, you can bring up the topic of you wanting to adopt the girl," the girl said.

"But I'm her do-"

"And?" Luna asked, cutting off her friend. "I'm a doctor who treated Soohyuk when he was wounded and ill, but I adopted him. Haerin adopted Solar, the snake hybrid she took care of here."

Taehyung groaned, running his fingers through his hair. 

"You know how I am, though. I don't like... the thought of adopting my patients," he said. "It just feels... I don't know."

"It's not wrong," Luna told him. "But if you don't like the idea, don't. I was only saying it because," she shrugged. 

Taehyung couldn't believe it. He was actually considering adopting you. 

Looking at you now, he wondered what it would be like to come home and have you greet him after a long day. 

For someone who loved and worked with hybrids, he's never actually adopted one. 

"And... uh, that's what we talked about," you said, clasping your hands together with a smile. 

"Ah, okay," he nodded. "I'm proud of you, y/n. You're socialising and making friends."

You muttered a thank you as a soft smile appeared on your face. 

'Maybe I should adopt you?'

.

Nurses and caretakers watched with wide eyes as Taehyung followed after the nurse running ahead of him, wondering what was going in.

Less than five minutes ago, a frantic nurse barged into his office while he was looking at bunny hybrid's chart. 

"Nurse Lee! Are you okay? What's the matter?" he asked, getting up. 

"It's y/n! She needs help!"

"y/n? Is she alright?" He asked, immediately getting worried. 

"No- I um," the nurse ran her fingers through her hair. "No. She's not. She abruptly woke up, breathing heavily. At first, I thought she had woken up from a bad dream and was trying to catch her breath... but when I went to check on her... She was shaking, and then she started sobbing."

Taehyung's eyes widened. "Is she having-"

The nurse nodded, knowing what he was about to ask. "-A panic attack. Yes. And she's not letting anyone near her. Doctor Im is trying to get her to calm down, but it's no use."

"Shit," he cursed. "Where are they now?"

"In the second tiger hybrid room. We asked the other hybrids to leave the room so we could get y/n to try and calm down," the nurse explained. 

"Let's go," he said before the nurse nodded and rushed out of his office. 

"There she is, Doctor Kim," the nurse breathed, pointing to you, sitting in the middle of your bed with your knees to your chest. And sitting on the bed adjacent to yours was Luna, and she had a worried expression.

She had tried to get you to calm down but failed. You wouldn't listen to her- no, it's more like you couldn't hear her. 

"Luna," Taehyung said, and the doctor gave him a small smile. 

"Thanks for bringing him here," Luna sighed, thanking the nurse before turning to her friend. "I asked her to call you because I believe you're the only person who can help her. She's been here for a little over a month now. And you're still the only doctor she trusts. At least, the one she trusts the most." 

Taehyung looked at you before nodding. "I'll try to get her breathing to be steady… and I'll try to get her to open up."

"Alright. We'll give you guys a moment," Luna said before asking the nurse to leave with her. 

"y/n," he softly said as he inched closer to the bed. "Can you look at me?"

He wasn't sure if you could even hear him. It seemed like you were too busy whispering things to yourself to notice him. 

Whatever you dreamt about caused you to snap and panic, and he needed to help get your mind off of whatever that was to help you calm down.

But to do that, he needed to figure out a way to get you to focus your attention on him without him touching you. 

"y/n!" he exclaimed, hoping it would grab your attention and cause you to finally acknowledge his presence. 

He almost sighed in relief when you finally looked at him. But that relief quickly disappeared, and his heart began to sink when he looked at him with fear in your eyes. 

'On no,' he thought. He didn't mean to scare you. 

"It's just me, y/n. Taehyung," he softly said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just needed you to look at me."

"Tae-h-hyung?"

When you choked out his name, he wanted to take you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay, but he knew he couldn't. You weren't comfortable enough for that. 

"Mhm," he hummed, taking a seat at the foot of your bed. "I want you to focus on me and copy what I do, okay? I need you to calm down."

Five minutes. Taehyung sat there, helping you steady your breathing for five minutes. Instructing you to close your eyes and take deep breaths.

By now, you were sitting with your legs crossed and stopped crying. But you were still shaking a little.

"Do you think you can tell me what's wrong?" he asked, taking off his white coat before draping it over your shoulders.

"I just had a- a nightmare," you whispered, using his coat to wipe your wet cheeks. 

"Can I ask what it was about?" 

You nervously nibbled on your bottom lip, wondering- or rather, you were afraid of Taehyung's reaction. You knew if you told him about your dream, it would lead to you telling him about your previous owners.  

You were afraid he wouldn't want to talk to you and consider you useless once he's heard the things you've done under your old owners. 

"I won't view you any differently, y/n, if that's what you're afraid of," he told you as if he could read your mind. "I promise."

"You promise?" You asked, and he nodded, giving you a small smile. 

"It was about my old owners... I dreamt about them, and when I woke up, I was terrified because, for a minute, I thought they had found me and come to take me," you said, tears brimming in your eyes. "I don't ever want to go back to them, Taehyung. I hated it there."

You began to tell him about how life was before he found you hiding in an alleyway. You told him about the type of people your owners were, the things they made you do, how they treated you... you told Taehyung everything. 

And Taehyung sat there and listened. Listening to everything you had to say. 

He knew where you had come from wasn't a good place, but he didn't expect it to be as bad as you described it. 

He felt horrible knowing that the abuse and poor treatment you experienced was all you knew. 

So many things made sense to him now.

Why it took you so long to talk to someone. Why you didn't want anyone near you. Why you were in the condition you were in when you were found... 

"That's everything," you whispered, wiping your nose. "I understand if you view me differently. I don't think anyone would want-"

"I promised I wouldn't see you differently, didn't I?" He asked, carefully bringing his hands up to wipe the tears off your cheek. "You're still the same y/n I met about a month ago. The only thing different is that I know your story."

"Just because you promised doesn't mean you won't think that way," you sighed, feeling like crying again. "I've heard about how humans feel with hybrids in situations like mine, and It's not surprising if you feel the same way too. After everything I've done and been through... who would want a hybrid like me? I was told chances of me finding a new home were few because no one would adopt a used-up hybrid like me..."

"A lot of people would," he told you, taking a hand. "And you aren't used up. Who even- never mind... but please don't say that about yourself..."

"You'd be surprised that despite all this, I wouldn't mind having an owner. I've heard hybrids talk about how some of their owners treated them, and I want to experience that. I want an owner who'll treat me nicely..." you said. "Even though deep down... I'm scared."

"You want an owner who'll treat you nicely?" He softly asked, and you nodded. "Then allow me to adopt you, y/n."

He's been wanting to adopt you for a while now, but he's never dared to say it. 

He wanted to show you how you should've been treated from the start. He wanted to be the person who would you show that. He wanted you to experience some of the nice things other hybrids experience. And he wanted to be there with you.

"What?" you asked, tears brimming in your eyes. "You want to adopt me? Me?"

He nodded, taking both your hands in his. "Would you be okay with me adopting you, though? You have a say in this, you know..."

"I... do, but I'm scared. I'm scared of going through all of that again," you breathed, closing your eyes. 

You trusted someone, and they tricked you into terrible things. Taehyung understood why you were scared of letting another person in. 

"I- gosh," you breathed before you began to sob, falling forward and burying your head into your chest. 

He didn't expect you to start crying again, let alone cry in his arms, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around you and gently stroked your hair. 

"I understand," he whispered. "But I promise I'll treat you the right way, y/n. And I would never let go through all that again."

"R-really?" You asked, and he hummed in response. 

"I'll take care of you," he soothed. "so let me, please."

.

i feel like rewriting this omg but i really hope you liked it :D

.

part of the quote game , submit request here

[hwaightme]

Your fan, Wooyoung (part 2)

(part 1) (your fan masterlist)

🍰 pairing: wooyoung x baker!/cafeowner!reader 🍰 genre: romance, fluff, social media vibes, very soft 🍰 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if wooyoung was stanning you 🍰 wordcount: 4.6k (popped off on this one I guess) 🍰 warnings/tags: language, social media couple, protective father, paparazzi trying hard, hongjoong and seonghwa parents, mentions of food/eating, ateez members teasing woo until the end of time, wooyoung being LOUD, established relationship 🍰 a/n: Hello there wonderful people <3 here is pt.2 of Your Fan, Wooyoung!!! Hope you enjoy, big hugs and all reblogs, asks and likes appreciated <3 (p.s. can you guess who is next? hint is: fashion ;))

When Wooyoung woke up, both Hongjoong and Seonghwa were standing in the room, looking like they were about to whoop him into next week.

Suddenly he was wishing that it was his actual parents and not his hyung-parents.

He contemplated just falling back asleep stressfully.

Mainly so that if they did exterminate him he wouldn't have to deal with all that with his brain on, but neither were having it.

"Jung Wooyoung."

"Ooh, government name. What's happening this fine morn?" He put his hands behind his head, pressing himself into his pillow to the point where it could nearly absorb him. If only this was Portal 2.

"Nothing much. If you don't count a certain someone trending on Naver. Would you look at that..." Hongjoong pushed his glasses down slightly to demonstratively peer at the screen of his phone, "you got your first solo win. Want a congratulatory pat on your back?" He hissed, knuckles turning white as he gripped his phone tighter. A smile still remained on Hongjoong's face, making him appear a smidgen deranged.

"Not when you look like you are about to break it."

"Aren't you even a tiny bit curious as to what this is?" Seonghwa muttered, quietly seething.

"Uhh..."

"To my room. Jung Wooyoung. In one minute or SO HELP ME." Hongjoong commanded, blinking furiously. When Wooyoung did not move, it was as though a bubble of rage had exploded within the captain, as he slammed the wall beside him with his fist and yelled: "MY ROOM. Hwa BRING HIM TO ME." The change in tone as he spoke the other's name was borderline comical, making Wooyoung's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile.

But he knew better than that. Apparently it was shitstorm hour that he had not been made aware of.

This was confirmed when as he walked out and locked eyes with Jongho, the latter took to stabbing a pair of chopsticks into rice and leaving it standing upright.

As he walked past the bathroom, where San was fixing his hair, he received a "boy you are going to get it" to 'cheer him on'. What was going on?

The final nail in the coffin was hammered in when he had already placed a hand on the doorknob to what felt to be his torture chamber for the next unknown period of time. Yeosang, sauntering past him stopped, placed a hand on his shoulder, shook his head once, and stated:

"Rest in peace bro."

Then going on his merry way, leaving Wooyoung to be pushed into the room by Seonghwa, who had been his shadow, or guard, this entire time.

The eldest members really wanted the full effect. Hongjoong was standing, arms crossed, next to the window with the curtains closed. a solitary chair was put in the centre of the room, to which the captain gestured, with an irritated nod.

Seonghwa decided to sit on the bottom bunk, opposite Wooyoung, balancing his elbows on his thighs.

"Right. Now, you might ask why I gathered your remaining brain cells here today-"

"Hyu-"

"HERE TODAY, it is because of a certain thing called the internet, and a certain someone losing all sense of self. Here you go, take a gander."

And a gander he took. As Hongjoong approached him with his phone on, the screen frozen on some article on Naver, Wooyoung's heart began to sink faster than the Titanic.

His intuition finally decided to wake up too, and all gears were set in motion. What was something that he did differently as of late? Visited you. What was something that he did differently when visiting you? Changed up the times, since his members were sick of his shit.

What was something wrong with the time he picked? It was busier.

What happens when there are more people around and you are a celebrity who had their hair dyed to become one third of a traffic light trio?

You are much more likely to get recognised, and thus end up in the news.

And that's the moment Wooyoung knew, he fucked up.

Sure enough, the glaring screen was taunting him with a picture of himself, exiting your cafe at an... interesting hour, suffice to day. Not too bad, only two hours after closing time, but still. A pain. He had to think of excuses, and fast.

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Do you have ANY idea how dangerous that could be? What conclusions could people come to? And for goodness' sake, if you don't care about yourself, do you care about your crush?"

"Girlfriend, actually."

"Okay girl- WHAT????" Hongjoong's eyes widened as he froze mid-step, having begun to pace back and forth upon starting his mini-monologue.

"You know what, Woo, that's impressive. Big up." Seonghwa nodded a couple of times in approval and extended his hand for Woo to shake.

Hongjoong interjected by cutting right between them.

"Do you condone this behaviour all of a sudden?"

"What? Better than pining with no purpose, this is a man of action right here."

"Ugh, Hwa, please be on my team at least for a second while I try to rearrange this kid's synapses so he learns what CAUTION IS."

Wooyoung attempted to be serious while listening to Hongjoong's tirade, but it was challenging since in his mind, he had determined that the offense wasn't even an offense and there was no way to really frame him for anything. Done and dusted. It was only a matter of sitting through the Seongjoong dual-scolding manoeuvre.

At some point, he began to zone out, his mind travelling back to the events of yesterday and just how worth it everything was. That sparked the urge for him to retaliate, regardless of what part of the 'reasons why Wooyoung is a menace' topic lineup Hongjoong was on.

"OH AND since we are on this whole thing of 'ah stop we're gonna get in trouble', who the hell kicked me out of the dorms?"

"San."

"Under your supervision, MOM AND DAD." he emphasised, glancing at both members in turn. This, they could not deny. It was funny doing what they did at the time, but definitely was not the best decision in retrospect.

Maybe they had hoped that the younger member would not have the courage and the lack of boundaries. But really, that had been a hope equivalent to assuming that air resistance was negligible all the time. Good in theory, shit in practice.

"Woo, I think you are going to have to hold off on seeing her for a bit."

Seonghwa finally spoke up, when Hongjoong had run out of steam and was nearly mumbling to himself.

"Wouldn't that be even more suspicious, like oooh the guy got caught doing something spicy and now he can't show face~"

"But if you come back there, the likelihood of Y/N coming under fire increases colossally."

"Right now there is a chance for this entire thing to blow over, and as Seonghwa said, we are used to the whole media stalking us thing, and even though Y/N is big on social media, the way the media treats us is still... slightly different. You don't want anyone bad on her case, do you?" Hongjoong's voice was now level, and horrifically calm. This was his most enraged state, and the scariest for Wooyoung.

He could handle screaming and even when someone threw things around in a fit, but not the calm-angry contrast. Anything but that.

"No I do not want that, no. But can't there be another way? She is my girlfriend after all-"

"Boy, you better stop or KQ will send you on a permanent voyage." Seonghwa threatened, hands folded.

"HEY HEY Woosanhwa? Come on, Woosanhwa for life!?" Wooyoung was desperately trying to find an ally in one of the two members carrying out the scolding session.

"NAH NOW IT'S SANHWA, you are the child of Dispatch."

"OUCH? And damn did you just say that in front of Hongjoong? Hongjoong you gonna welcome your cheater home or what?"

"Jung Wooyoung you are going to be the death of me. Can you please just, for a week at least, be on best behaviour? We have so many things scheduled and I really don't want to have another conversation with our manager about this."

Wooyoung had totally forgotten about the staff. Curious as to what the manager had said, he sat a little more forward in his chair, leaning in and craning his neck towards the captain.

"Luckily, he said this wasn't too bad, and since you were in Goyang-si it is easy to spin a story about how it was family quality time or something. Actually we got some people doing that for us already."

"Oh my word a special digital operation?"

"Don't get too excited, the manager does want a one on one with you, to 'discuss things'."

Long story short, Wooyoung was banned from going anywhere near Goyang-si for the next couple of weeks, with him instead being flung into different projects, as if they had been invented to take up all his time and make him forget about you.

But that only backfired. Upon revealing to his manager that you were his girlfriend (he could not stop repeating the fact, since he was proud of himself for having asked you out and to be official) and receiving a formal "I don't give a shit dude just stay in your lane and don't do anything more chaotic than your normal", he turned into a spoiler hazard.

He would call or message you during filming. Call or message during practice. Call or message in the dorms. He would be sending you feedback and comments about your content, watching it like the dedicated and diligent boyfriend he was.

Roasting you if he spotted something funny or out of place.

Purposefully, he dialled up his sickeningly sweet petname talk and language that somehow certain couples can survive using without curling up into a ball of cringe.

Progressively, the names got more and more ridiculous, but the scary bit was that he could REMEMBER what he had called you the last time you talked, so he could add cringey chaos like stacking Jenga.

Thanks to his perseverance and disregard for time and space, you and him talked even more often than before.

So often, that even your father, who was another regular visitor to your cafe, had caught on to something.

Whilst he was sitting at one of the tables in the cafe, sipping the coffee you had made him, he was observing how you were smiling like a fool while texting someone, thumbs dashing across the screen.

Then, your phone rang - Wooyoung wanted to video call. Deciding to answer, since there were no strangers in the store, you accepted, and you began to chat.

He shared with you that once a couple of more shoots were done, he could maybe even take you out on a proper date - somewhere outside of Seoul so you could walk around and really enjoy time together. You were bashful, especially since your own father was listening in on the fun with the classic 'who is this boy and let me have a word so I can show him that he can't mess about' face.

Soon enough, Wooyoung noticed that you were a little less flirtatious than usual, and that your eyes kept on darting off to the side. And he was not the one to let such things slide, so he began to question you until you finally gave in.

"Uh... well... say hi to... my dad? Though you guys already know each other so-"

The way in which Wooyoung switched up made you erupt in laughter as you struggled to hold the phone level and show your father walking up. You swore you heard some of the other ATEEZ members cackling in the background, with San being particularly loud.

Because of course Wooyoung had pestered all the members to officially introduce themselves and chat with you. They had been in awe of how oddly similar you were to Wooyoung in terms of upbeat disposition and ability to brighten a room with some wonderful comedy.

But that at the same time, it was as if a couple of components were switched out. You were disciplined and organised, and Seonghwa auto-approved you when you had equated your general approach to life as measuring out baking instructions. Sure you liked to have fun and experiment, but you had a time and place for that.

Hongjoong had congratulated you on becoming Wooyoung's new mommy, much to the latter's embarrassment. But you only picked up on that and K.O-ed your boyfriend with just the remark: "Kinky? But anything for my baby boy I guess" that sent the group rolling. You felt like you just started an inside joke that Woo would not be able to live down.

As your father walked up to the barista counter and looked into the camera, Wooyoung, at lightning speed, had moved seats to have a neutral background behind him, and was sitting like he was ready for a work ID photo. Stifling a giggle, you tilted the phone so the two men could speak.

"So, Wooyoung, how have you been?"

"Very well, thank you sir."

"Practicing cooking?"

"Yes sir."

"And saving room for dessert I see-" your father glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. You could see Wooyoung's cheeks starting to go red.

"I am beyond grateful for having the opportunity to try my best and care for your daughter, sir."

"I will make you into meat for jeongol if you do any less."

"Got it, sir. I will try my best-"

"Not try. Do. And I will see you tomorrow." Your father finished off with a signature chef smile - the one you had seen in magazines that had covered his work and interviewed him. The one that screamed 'I am the boss here'. Way to go, trying to scare your poor baby.

"Wait... what's tomorrow?" you asked as your father returned to his seat.

"Uh... we have... filming... together... a master class." he explained slowly, his whole face scrunching up as though he ate a lemon. It felt as though someone kept on playing a laugh track behind him.

The culprits made themselves known soon enough, as a beaming Yunho wrapped one arm around your boyfriend's neck and called out to you.

"Oh yeah that is going to be one hell of a time. You should totally come, Y/N. We are all going to be there in the background."

"Is that even allowed?"

"HONGJOONG!?" Yunho immediately shouted off-call, and followed up with a question. You heard shuffling and some low mumbles. You looked over to your dad, who was also pondering the matter, and suddenly took out his own phone.

Just as you overheard Hongjoong say he was not sure whether it was possible to invite anyone in since technically, you were not an insider by any means, your dad called someone, greeted them, and began to converse about... the filming? You shushed Wooyoung and company, mouthing that there was an important call being made.

"Mhm, yes. Yes, my daughter. Yes... that successful young lady that made Jung Wooyoung a little reckless. Yes... no, we have known each other for a long time, come on. You know I wouldn't suggest anything out of line. Yeah? Okay. Great. Then she'll come. Okay, okay I'll pass that on. See you. Bye."

Well that was one short conversation. You looked at your father, expectant, but not having one sliver of an idea at what exactly he had just managed to pull off.

"Y/N, how quickly can you get a catering order ready?"

"Like a couple hours?"

"Okay good, early start tomorrow, and under that pretense, you are in." he said, purposefully louder so the guys on the call could hear.

With a satisfied grin he listened to their claps and cheers, whilst you contemplated whether your father was a mafia boss in an alternate universe.

This was bound to be one exciting shoot to do. Especially since it would be the first time since the not-really-a-scandal-but-a-scandal-nonetheless had happened, leaving Wooyoung totally work-bound.

And you desperately wanted to catch a glimpse of what a professional set looked like, as before this, the majority of what you were exposed to had been your mini ring light, reflectors and a stand for your phone. A little more than most and functional for you, but still felt amateur.

As instructed, you were up early. Earlier than you had ever managed to before. The adrenaline threw you out of bed as you rushed to 'dream-ity' that was located closer to the company.

After having been cleared to join, you had received a message from staff to arrange for a time when they could arrive to help you with transporting the delicious goods, so time was not your friend.

Moving around the kitchen you were baking fresh goods as though your life depended on it, recalling your time as a line cook, when orders would be coming in by the second and the only thing in your ears was slamming of pots and cursing.

For that part in your culinary journey you were grateful. You had become a lot more resilient and were not phased by this time pressure.

This enabled you to go all out. You did not know if they had ordered from any other place, but you wanted to be the one all staff and ATEEZ remembered. You wanted to show Wooyoung just what you were capable of, and wanted to show your father that you ALWAYS meant business.

Even though you had made up some time ago, that competitive and judgmental edge had never quite gone away. But, that was what gave you your business-savviness and, quite frankly, was the thing that taught you to not give up on anything.

If it were any different, you were confident that you would not be able to match so well with Wooyoung. He was a force of nature that was not subject to change unless he himself wanted to do so. And only because you had the power to absorb some of that energy while simultaneously giving your own in return, you had this unique synergy.

Regardless of distance, or of external circumstance, this exchange stayed strong, and though both of you wanted nothing more than to be able to spend time together and thrived off in person contact, you were not afraid, nor insecure. It was the ideal flow state.

So when you strutted into the large studio and kitchen at the time you had been appointed, together with two staff who had come to help, each of you carrying two large delivery bags each, you made sure you were glowing and every bit the glorious bringer of nourishment who totally had not just dressed up to spend an entire day behind the camera line.

It seemed to have the desired effect, as Wooyoung, who was having some touch ups done, had his jaw drop (which may or may not have earned him a glare from your father and a few chuckles from the other members who had been splayed out on some sofas, but shot up as you and the catering crew greeted each other and got to setting everything up.

As you began to unpack the sweet and savoury, standard and unique, light and heavy items - whatever anyone's heart desired, you heart a few cheers. Food really did bring everyone together.

"Y/N can you live with us please?" Mingi came up to you, eyeing the goods and picking out something that suited his fancy.

"THANK YOU THIS IS GREAT!" San raced across the hall to to go in for the steal, nearly running into Seonghwa, who was admiring the intricacy of the mini-cake assortment you had decided to throw into the mix on a whim. It had been a hit on TikTok, so surely it had to have the same effect here.

The staff also pulled up to the feast in record time, relieved at the much needed break and the delicious accompaniment to it.

Once everyone's attention was either on the food or on their phone that was paired with the food, Wooyoung sauntered up to you, a dopey smile on his face.

"I am so excited to see you I could kiss you right this instant." he whispered, leaning closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine as you could feel his breath brush against your ear.

"You are cute, and I want to keep it that way and not have you filming with a black eye." You nodded at the man, your father, who was inspecting and rearranging some of the utensils on the set.

"Can't I get some attention~ I missed you!" Wooyoung whined playfully, and pouted at you.

You looked around to make sure that no staff members were paying attention (though the majority definitely knew at this point that you two were an item - no thanks to Wooyoung advertising it, first to the stylist who he had proclaimed to be a matchmaker, then to his manager even though he already knew thanks to the brush with paparazzi, and it kept on going). Once feeling that the coast was clear, you tugged at the sleeve of the dress shirt he was wearing, beckoning him.

Your own voice sultry, captivating, you winked and responded with:

"If you'll be a good boy, you can get all the attention in the world later."

"Y'all are nasty." you heard Hongjoong mutter right behind you. You had not noticed that he crept up to steal a pastry bite.

"You did say I am his mommy now, so I'm just following captain's orders."

"Oh no no Wooyoung you are rubbing off on her with this disrespect."

"Rubbing off you say?"

"I'M GONNA GO RETIRE NOW BYE."

You shared a laugh with Wooyoung. It was good to be back.

Filming continued, and you took great pleasure in seeing your father and Wooyoung interacting and attempting to not set the kitchen on fire. Two times Wooyoung had nearly knocked some glass bowls off the counter, only with your father's professional reflexes saving the day.

You were nearly in tears from trying too hard not to laugh so loud as you watched your father going a little red in the face as he held in every curse word known to man while watching Wooyoung stir fry something. You had to admit, your boyfriend was a LOT better than you had imagined, but your dad was a notorious perfectionist and the contrast between him and Wooyoung was too glorious of an entertainment.

You would be lying if it did not make you dream of what it would be like if Wooyoung were to become part of your family, but you swatted that thought away.

After wrapping up filming and beginning to gather your things, the director decided to approach you, simultaneously calling Wooyoung and some staff over.

"So, first of all I hope being here wasn't too boring for you. Thank you so much for the amazing food and for the company."

"I am glad you enjoyed, and boring? I was crying laughing in the back, this was great! I am beyond honoured for the invitation."

"Well then, how would be invited back sound? This time in front of the camera?"

"Oh?"

"Well both Wooyoung and Mr. L/N had advertised your skill, and Wooyoung had shown me some of your content, and I must say, I would be very interested in working with you! Plus I think your," he looked at your boyfriend and then back at you, "dynamic, will bring good chemistry."

And he was more than right. The episode where you had become a special guest and taught Wooyoung to make that same strawberry shortcake he had revealed was the first think he had seen you bake on social media, had amassed a considerable number of views and likes, with both ATINY and your audience raving at the collaboration.

Some of the fans who had been speculating about Wooyoung's appearance at 'dream-ity' also had their curiosity satisfied, saying that it had been Wooyoung being the classic 'spoiler king' for the collaboration.

As the view count grew and #bakerwoo and #dreamitywoo grew on trending, in a matter of days your cafe chain had become a popular Instagram spot among fans, with the one in Goyang-si being the peak location (for obvious reasons).

In light of not being able to continue your dates in the same style, you and Wooyoung changed tactics, and began to travel, just as you had wanted. For some videos, he had become your camera man, and for some of his social media updates, you had become the photographer.

In some of your videos you had even included snippets of you chatting to an off-screen Wooyoung, which sent ATINY into a frenzy as they had screamed in the comments about the "VERY FAMILIAR LAUGH" and about "WHY ARE THEIR POSTS KINDA SIMILAR THIS IS SUS GUYS"

It was thrilling to visit new places together, see how far you could push it before Dispatch was on your case. Even Hongjoong and Seonghwa had given up on you at that point, sighing harder than your own father and just saying 'young love'.

Together, you decided that if the spotlight was going to be on you, then so be it. Both of you were public figures in your respective fields, and being under constant scrutiny was part of the job. And this approach turned out to work in your favour, as the gradual introduction of one another in posts and content had become golden nuggets of wholesomeness for fans to search for and find.

The casual treatment of your relationship, looking at it not as something monumental but something natural, intrinsic, had turned what could have been a scandal on its head, making it a celebration and something to support.

Both you and Wooyoung had met thanks to social media, and had managed to use it for support and as a buffer zone for when FINALLY, one lonely paparazzi had caught you two out on a date, thinking he would be getting the juiciest content.

He was in for a shock when both of you turned to face him, at the same time, and pose like it was a red carpet event. When the photos were published, you two were sitting in the ATEEZ dorms, having a blast looking through the meme reactions at ATINY calling the journalists 'internet explorer' and quite simply, being happy for you.

Though having taken the path of being more public did come with its challenges, both of you were ready to overcome them, for many anniversaries to come. Whenever life was not too sweet, Wooyoung and you had taken to lightening things up by saying the 'dream-ity' pantries were always within reach. You embraced each other's chaos, and shared it with nothing but pride and adoration.

As Wooyoung sat in your newest addition to the 'dream-ity' chain, which you had yet to open, and was studying you as you rushed about, guiding two construction workers, he recalled how he had found you, had become your fan, and had fallen for you.

TikTok really did work in mysterious ways.

[hella1975]

just read your nobodies hero fic and. what a way to be introduced to mordred lavore. also your writing is just INCREDIBLE I’m obsessed

‘Atlas Lavore was Mordred’s big brother by a decade, an obnoxiously handsome man with a golden aura around him that even the other idiots in the queue seemed to notice. Golden aura for the golden son, tall and broad and sharp.’ honestly I do not know what to say your writing is just so beautiful

‘after so many years with a cairn clogging his throat’ this is a bananas thing to say. a cairn clogging his throat…

‘The Lavore brothers stared each other down with the intensity of a battlefield. Perhaps it was the same. Perhaps every brother in the history of humanity knew of this silence.’ me when hella1975 writes about brothers again:

‘“Atlas,” his brother said. It was the first word Mordred learned to write.’ banging my head against the floor

‘Even after all these years, Mordred Lavore hadn’t learned how to stop being a desperate, waiting child beneath his big brother’s gaze, and the reminder of that helplessness, at how pathetic he’d allowed himself to be for so little back, made his shoulders hunch up, a chill down his spine like the crooked finger of a death god long since familiar with each bone and knob.’ girls when they think about how he was meant to die and knew it

‘Still, he couldn’t help but watch Atlas leave, overly familiar with his brother’s back, shoulders sloped in departure, the way his hair fell around them, and the certain knowledge that he never, ever looked back. Today was no different. It never was. Mordred didn’t know what he was expecting.’ AHHHH

‘Quietly, fiercely, Mordred had been so proud of his brother, so awed by his bravery to stand up to their cold parents so unflinchingly. That was before he realised that a rejection of them came with a rejection of him too. Atlas left Mordred behind like it was easy, like it cost him nothing to do so. He knew the starving ache of that big, loveless house and he left it to feed on Mordred, not so much as a letter or a phone call to satiate the hunger pangs.’ GNAWING AT THE WALLS!!!!!!

‘Not ten minutes later, Atlas walked back to the car and drove away. He hadn’t even noticed Mordred wearing his shirt. After all, he had only left behind the things he didn’t want. Like the shirt. Like his brother.’ I need to be sedated

‘It was a week since he was last here and Mordred had started to wonder if that would be it. He wouldn’t let himself wait for his brother ever again. He was done peeking hopefully out of windows looking for familiar curls. And still, his heart lurched in his chest when he noticed his brother walk in, the stupid thing never learning how to pick itself up off the floor, never learning how to die, stuck to a stage with the curtain call still ringing.’ I’m in hysterics

‘His brother paid and took the cup, wishing him well before leaving the store. Mordred, foolish, forgotten, watched him leave as he always did, watched his back, watched the window. When his brother turned to look back at him, Mordred’s breath caught in his throat.’ he looked back… oh orpheus and eurydice we’re really in it now

‘Not even a few minutes late; it was nearly an hour after he said he’d meet Atlas and he knew. He knew his brother wouldn’t still be there, that catching his brother was a chance thing, fleeting, a bird swooping past his vision one moment and gone the next. Either he worked on his brother’s schedule or he never saw him at all, and still, still, Mordred was a fool who hoped. He had never been able to help it. He walked into the little coffee shop they agreed to meet in and let hope sit on his tongue, refusing to be choked down. And Atlas smiled at him, sat in the window seat, giving a little wave so Mordred would see him, as if he wasn’t the centre of gravity in every room they shared.’ HE WAITED!!! HE WAITED!!!

‘“I’m late,” Mordred said instead. A statement. It’s raining. I'm late. You never came back for me. And easily, so, so easily, Atlas smiled at him. “I would have kept waiting, however long it took.”’ they send me INSANE

‘Mordred Lavore was an hour glass no longer spilling, left still and abandoned on a shelf with no one left to glance at him and gage his measure. He hadn’t needed to hate his brother before. He could not compete with him, and he did not need to, because he wasn’t going to last that long. And now he was here, nearly an adult, and his brother had abandoned him to all of it, and he hated him, and he loved him, and he was so, so hurt.’ !!!! MORDRED LAVORE THE CHARACTER YOU ARE!!

MAKE SOME NOISE FOR MORDRED LAVORE HE DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - A Guero (Mayans MC)/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I cave to the demand and the excitement I have warmly received from you all. Here you go, darlings. First chapter is here. I can’t promise I will be posting the second next week just in case I want to do ANOTHER deep dive into the editing, but since I am just over halfway through writing it now, I thought I would at least post the first. 

Story is somewhat canon, with a few changes here and there to suit my artistic vision... i.e. I kicked canon in the ass and told her to go home, hahaha! Oh, I also gave Guero a surname, too! I tried to keep him as true to who we see on screen, but obviously since we didn’t get him for long, some of his characterisations are of my creation. Don’t like it? Don’t read. Simple as that. 

Nervously and excitedly awaiting your feedback, eeek! :)

Words - 3,834

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters. 

Unknown numbers. Ezekiel Reyes often received more than he wished to endure upon the burner phone he used for club business. Regularly they were legitimate, but occasionally telemarketers, such annoyances he simply hung up on instantly. While walking from his trailer to the clubhouse, he expected the call coming in to be that of nuisance, 11am seemingly the call centre worker bee’s peak time to bother him about his long-distance courier needs, or savings on his energy bills.  

It was no telemarketer, but he almost disconnected the call all the same in sheer disbelief.  

“Ezekiel Reyes?”

“Who wants to know?” His journey across the yard was undisturbed, watching as Bottles and Nestor took in an alcohol delivery, a nearby Guero and Downer giving them the usual offering of shit talk.

“Rocco Lombardi.”  

He stopped dead in his tracks. The Rocco Lombardi was reaching out to him? Nah.

“This your idea of a joke?”  

He heard a deep chuckle filter down the line. “I’m more of a knock knock, who’s there kinda fella.” Remaining paused, he thought whoever it was had at least nailed the thick, New Jersey accent. He had to give them props for that, he guessed. “Listen, you got FaceTime, I take it?”  

“I do, but...” The line cut dead. Five seconds later and sure enough, a FaceTime call came in. EZ nearly fell over when there on the screen, appeared the face of the big boss, the notorious and famed king of the mafia. There he was; the head of the biggest, most powerful crime family on earth. Rocco Lombardi.  

“That better?”  

He raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, the confirmation is appreciated.”

“Good. Now not for nothin’, but I can’t fuckin’ stand video calls, encrypted or not. I’ll call you back.” Once again, the call disconnected, the cell ringing after a few moments. All the while EZ could feel his ego swelling, realising truly how far he’d come in his leadership that he was being sought out by someone of such standing within the criminal underworld. He was nothing short of surprised when he eventually found out why, though.

He’d always believed that the code of La Cosa Nostra forbade their operations to extend into the realms of drug trafficking. To be specific, he’d assumed it stemmed from reasons of mortality, perhaps a skewed sense of Catholic guilt, when in fact, the commoner explanation was far simpler.  

The prospect of a lengthier prison sentence, of course, increased the propensity of their members turning upon the organisation, becoming government informants in order to secure a more lenient custodial term. When the federal carrot is dangled before a desperate man, one looking at forty years when his assistance could mean all he ends up serving is ten to fifteen, tongues tend to be loosened.  

Rats out themselves, major players are taken off the streets and ultimately, the government wins.  It would be very reasonable to assume that the code is in place for this very reason, to prevent such catastrophic damage within their organisation and family infrastructure. The risk is not worth the payout. Or rather, it is bendable to the point of unrecognition when those doing said bending can earn a substantial profit.  

Enter Rocco Lombardi and his proposition.

“I think we could mutually benefit from the blending of your organisation with mine, Mr Reyes.” Lombardi was intelligent enough to be concise, even when speaking upon the relative safety of a burner phone. He hadn’t gotten to the top because he was sloppy. Lombardi had sat at the very head of the hierarchy for years, after all. He was hailed as the boss of all bosses for a reason.  

They’d once given John Gotti the monicker of Teflon Don, because nothing ever stuck to him in the way of evidence to bring about charges. That was until his own underboss has turned on him, the evidence given at trial by Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano leading to his incarceration. Truly, if there was one overlord within the organised crime world who lacked cohesion, it was the man who ruled the Romano crime family with an iron fist.

EZ Reyes had launched into thoroughly researching Lombardi after his reaching out to him, learning the ins and out of his character, how much of a slippery customer he was, how – and it went without saying – he would use people as pawns to further his own reach and agenda. It went without saying because it was the way of his own world, too. Within his MC, he went about the very same, albeit on a much smaller scale.  

Rocco Lombardi’s reach was, to put it simply, enormous. EZ and his VP would be lying if they’d have claimed that bearing such in mind, it hadn’t piqued their curiosity over what on earth he could want with a Californian based MC. For all intents and purposes, the man had his operations not merely sewn up tightly, but steel reinforced.  

“All I know is we gotta play it carefully, mano,” Bishop had sagely advised prior to their leaving Santo Padre to for a face to face with the mafioso legend, Rocco insisting that a larger MC presence not assemble in the interests of it remaining nothing short of clandestine. “Our worlds might be similar, but the mafia play by an entirely different set of rules. I ain’t saying you’re not smart enough to outsmart the guy, but he’s the kind who will have thought three moves ahead before we’ve even stepped foot into that hotel suite.”  

EZ had sipped his beer, narrowed eyes unmoving as he’d absorbed the words of the former president with all the credence they deserved. Bishop had, after all, been approached by the mafia before. His reasons for turning down an offer from a different crime family had been solid in their validity, and EZ knew he would be a fool to let this warning go unheeded. Especially since the club were on their knees where their drug trade was concerned. He also knew that somehow, Rocco likely knew this, too.  

The mafia tended to have ears in the very last places one might expect them to extend. He also knew that they preferred to keep their operations within the Italian American brotherhood if they could at all help it, so the need for an alliance was somewhat even in its beneficial mutuality.  

“I guess we just have to wait and see what this sit down entails.” Truly, it was all they could do.  

The time passed quickly between then and the two of them riding through the strip, both separately feeling the mist of apprehension gather, until they were parking up at the hotel and casino they were scheduled to meet Lombardi at, their demeanours switching to cool composure before they’d even entered the building.

The two men dressed in denim, flannel and leather looked out of place as they strode across the foyer of the MGM Grand, the buzz and tacky decadence of Las Vegas swirling all around them. Gamblers bet it all, slot machines flashed in frenzy while spitting out endless streams of coins, and alcohol flowed without restriction, certainly enough to keep it so the house always won.  

Would it be their own win he was sealing, EZ thought while waiting for the elevator, or was this the biggest and most uncertain gamble the club were about to make to date? He guessed the next few hours would tell, whether or not he was about to be presented with a winning hand.  

The ding of the elevator roused him, both stepping inside, Bishop pressing the button for the tenth floor. EZ stared straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator doors, noting the haunted veil that hung over his features. Shadowy eyes and skin bearing many more lines than a man in his mid-thirties should do were now his staple in appearance, a few further flecks of grey in his hair also.

Ezekiel Reyes was a man barely holding it together, but his demeanour did not give away the tumult that gnawed at his guts and yanked at his nerves, even if it had seemed to age him five years in just over seven months. His control was as unquestionable as it was unshakable, even in the dark times his club was currently under the duress of. He would never, ever let the toll it was taking upon him show.  

He was in Vegas, after all. Home of the poker face.  

The man at his side, though? He saw through the veil. He knew. In the interests of helping him glue back together the smashed fragments of the MC, he chose to keep his observances to himself. When he’d reigned supreme, if someone had pointed out his weak points, he would have shown no magnanimity in return. He knew better than to antagonise. Bishop Losa was nothing if not tactile these days, with how much delicacy teetered upon a knife’s edge, how much was at stake.  

The elevator shunted to a stop, the doors gliding open, the men exchanging a look and a nod before they exited, walking in step down the long hallway. Coming to a stop in front of room eight one five, EZ reached to knock, his arm suddenly grasped, preventing the rap of knuckles upon the sleek, white enamel.

“Whatever goes down in there, I got you.” Bishop’s words were delivered with a solemn nod, EZ returning it before knocking the door. They stood tall as they waited, unflinching, rock-like in their demeanour, the door opening to reveal a slight yet menacing looking man in an expensive suit. He eyed up the two men standing before him, his lips pursing slightly as he stood back to allow their entrance.  

“Guns on the table.”  

EZ’s brow knitted. “The fuck?”

“You heard me, stronzo. Guns. On. The. Table.”  

Neither man took well to his condescending delivery, both irked at the display of what they considered to be one hell of a chip upon his shoulder. EZ was just about to offer his retort when a voice came from further within the suite.

“Stop playing rottweiler and let my guests in, Mario. If we’re armed, so can they be, too.” Immediately, he stood aside at the instruction of his boss, a large, dark-haired man rising from his seat at the dining table, two armed men stationed in opposing corners of the suite. “My apologies. This one here, he can be a hot head, y’know?”

Although seemingly personable right off the bat, there was an aura surrounding Rocco Lombardi that virtually crackled with menace. His ‘thou shalt not fuck with me’ demeanour was beyond palpable. “Take a seat, fellas. Can I offer either of youse a drink?”

EZ’s eyes flitted around the room, taking in every detail. He stored it all on the internal hard drive that was his brain, his guard up as naturally it should have been. “No, thank you.”

Rocco took the rebuff in his stride, gesturing to the chairs opposite as he sat again. “A man who likes to get straight down to business. I can appreciate that.” Down to business was exactly how it went, no pleasantries, no idle chatter. Rocco cut right to the chase.

“My proposition is simple, Ezekiel. My current methods in transportation of product are, shall we say, attracting more attention than myself and my associates are comfortable with, y’know? I need to implement a one stop solution. I also need a far more financially viable method of my product crossing the border from Mexico than I’m currently paying through the fucking nose for.”  

Bribes. Of course, Lombardi meant bribing the border control, an exercise EZ knew likely cost fortunes, cutting into a profit margin the mafia were probably tired of having bites taken out of. “This is where the MC comes in, youse and your tunnel.” EZ’s eyebrow twitched, just a fraction, Rocco smirking at the tell.  

“Yeah, I know all about it. Ain’t many places my ears don’t have reach. I want that tunnel as a new channel to move my product across the border, which then will be transferred to the Port of San Diego, to a designated shipping container the day it ports. You unload into the container, minus your personal cut that will ensure you keep the monopoly on supply within the Californian correctional facilities, and you also get a nice little monetary injection for you and your boys on a monthly basis. How’s that sound?”

EZ took a moment to ponder, his fingers knitting before him on the table, arm muscles flexing as he shared a sideways glance with Bishop. “Sounds like there’s a catch.”  

Rocco smirked, taking a long puff on his cigar, his eyes twinkling through the thick plumes of smoke as he leaned back in his chair. “You move two tons at a time. That is non-negotiable.”  

Two fucking tons every month. Holy mother of god. Before they’d even entered that room, they of course knew the reach of the Romano crime family, that it was extensive. Worldwide, even. Two tons of heroin every four weeks truly hammered home just how far Lombardi’s tentacles reached within the criminal underworld. The risks associated with that were unfathomable, EZ lifting his chin, his poker face firmly set once more. “I’m gonna need to see a number, the nice little monetary injection you speak of.”  

Rocco reached into the pocket of his suit, removing a pen, taking a napkin from the table before him and scribing a number upon it, sliding it across the polished wood. Upon viewing it, EZ’s well trained blank façade slid south quickly, showing it to Bishop.  

“Jesus fucking Christ.”  

His quiet exclamation was no understatement over the amount of zero’s scrawled upon the napkin.  

“I assume you know of our current difficulties with the LNG?”

The tall man nodded. “Quite a fucking pasticcio youse have gotten yourself into, eh?” His smile widened suddenly, slowly drawing his thumb and forefinger from the corners of his mouth down to the centre of his lip. “If you do the first shipment for free, I can take care of that, as well as your issues with the knuckleheaded, heavy arms wielding fuck heads you got yourselves caught up in, too.” He hissed a breath over his teeth, shaking his head. “Fentanyl, gentleman. What a risky business that is.”

What in the fuck didn’t this man know about their operations? EZ was all but surprised that Rocco wasn’t clued in on the colour of his underwear by that point, the man seemingly well informed, his intel even extending to knowing about their deal with Cole.  

He rose to his feet, jerking his head towards the balcony. “If you could give myself and my VP a moment?”  

Rocco made a passive motion with his hand, nodding. “Sure, take your time.”  

They strode across the suite, wallet chains rattling and leather creaking the only sounds to permeate the silence of the room, EZ sliding the glass door open. The warm Vegas air hit him, his eyes narrowing as he looked out over the luminosity of the strip, thousands upon thousands of lights twinkling. They glittered a promise of wealth and prosperity hinged upon a gamble, which was exactly what Rocco Lombardi was offering up to them.

“You have to back me on this when we take it to the table. The risk is massive, and I appreciate that, but this? This is our way out of it all. Our way out and our ladder to climb back to the top.”

Bishop considered the words of his president as he pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one up. A massive risk; fuck, that was putting it lightly. It was a fool’s errand, in short, transporting such a colossal consignment of heroin. The pay off, though? If they could execute each run flawlessly, it would be beyond worth it. Santo Padre would be back on top, and the Mayans kings of California.  

He wanted with everything he had to back EZ, but something persistent tugged at him deep in his guts. The old adage ‘too good to be true’ echoed through his mind. There had to be another catch. For all appearances, said catch appeared to be the two tons of narcotics, the kind of consignment that would mean the MC would never see the outside of a prison for the remainder of their lives, should they be caught moving it. However, he felt there was another shoe yet to drop from Lombardi’s perspective.  

Conflict rose in him like an unpleasant tempest, knowing that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Take the deal and shoulder an enormous risk or walk away from it and try to seek a way out of their mess alone. Being in the pocket of the mafia was a dangerous location, he knew that; they both knew that. In this instance, no matter how much trepidation he felt, he had to concede that Lombari’s offer was very much the lesser of two evils.  

Still, it didn’t prevent him voicing the concern. “I feel like there’s something extra he’s gonna have us on the hook for further down the road.” Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he turned to his president, brows furrowed, his head shaking softly. “I wanna back you, but I don’t trust him.”

Neither did EZ, if he was honest. “We don’t need to trust him. We need to make ourselves indispensable to him. The weight of his organisation has the power to break us completely, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see that, Bish. We gotta remember that he’s coming to us because he needs this symbiosis too. If he had any other plan to move his product, he’d have exacted it by now. What he’s offering us in payment solidifies that. He needs to lock the MC down.”  

He took a breath, his eyes once again focusing on the lights below. “And our backs are against the kind of wall we can’t break alone. Rocco Lombardi can not only break that wall, he can obliterate it completely. We can’t refuse.”

Upon their return to Santo Padre, an immediate templo was called, the proposition repeated, a vote cast. It was, just as EZ had anticipated, a unanimous yes. Hell, it wasn’t like any of the men assembled around the table hadn’t known that extreme danger was exactly what he was signing up for, and this was about a risky as it got.

Moving heroin two tons at a time for the mafia was the height of hazardous endeavours, but the payoff would elicit the kind of money and power they had been striving for. Sure, they were still ultimately under someone else’s thumb, but in the world of the MC, Santo Padre rose like the phoenix from the proverbial ashes. If they were careful and exercised caution, they would remain risen, too.  

The operation was undertaken with military precision. The two tons of heroin were moved through the tunnels from one side of the border to the other, then stowed away down there for a day before the Mayans arrived, loading one ton into each van. The vehicles both then hit the road, two members within, two members upon motorcycles escorting at the front and rear, and EZ leading the way.  

They drove far enough apart not to attract the attention that such a closely assembled convoy likely would, with EZ a quarter of a mile in front, so he could warn of any upcoming complications that might lead to said convoy needing to peel off the freeway. Since the run was done at 2am, the risk of such was minimised greatly, yet still they always prepared for the worst-case scenario. This is why two vans were utilized, when all it truly took was one. If one broke down, then there they were, stuck with a life sentence cargo on the side of the freeway, rather than another means to continue their journey.

Arriving at the port, EZ gave the usual nod to the guard, a guard whose pockets had been nicely lined with mafia cash, who would duly send another of his team down to the container as soon as the Mayans left, standing guard until the cargo was loaded onto a vessel bound either for New York or the far east the following morning. Yes, the tentacles of Rocco Lombardi even reached over to the Yakuza, the Japanese criminal organisation taking two tons of product off his hands on a bi-monthly basis.  

The shipment they were about to offload on that particular night was heading straight back to New York, the guys all assembling, the usual banter firing back and forth.  

Downer, of course, was at the epicentre of it. “Hey, I thought there was meant to be whores on the dockside? That’s a thing, ain’t it? We’ve been here four times before now and no damned pussy anywhere.”

Angel lit a cigarette, raising his eyebrows. “Man, where the fuck you get that from?”

“He’s right,” Hank chimed in, “but about a couple hundred years out of date. Hookers used to frequent the docks back in the eighteen, nineteen hundreds. Gave lots of navy men who’d been at sea for months at a time a rampant case of the syph.”  

Guero couldn’t help himself. “Eighteen hundreds. Back in your youth, huh bro?” He was shot a look of pure distain from Downer, his chirp continuing. “I bet you’d like the crotch rot. You’re a sick enough individual to probably be into it.”

“It’s his kink. Itchy balls and a putrid cock, man,” Bottles interjected with, earning a snort laugh from Guero and an incredulous stare from Downer.  

Aggressively delivered middle fingers were raised. “Fuck you and fuck you even fuckin’ harder!”

Bottles grinned at the rise he’d gotten. “You wish.”  

“You’re getting way too smart with that fuckin’ yap of yours, prospect,” he snorted, pointing at Guero. “Been spending too much time with him and his big mouth.”

The man himself beamed, pulling his hood up. “What can I say?” He held his arms in wide expression, his smirk growing. “I’m infectious. Like your cock, just way less scabby.” He received a boot in the ass as he turned, heading straight over to the yellow container and hauling the levers to open it. What he expected to see within were the usual lines of packing cases into which they would load their cargo, with a specially marked one housing their cash.  

The last thing he expected to see was the body of a dishevelled looking blonde girl with a gash upon her head, lying there out cold, and the marked case notably empty of its usual stack of bills.  

“Uh, guys?” he called, appearing back around the container door as his brothers were carrying cargo across from the vans. “We got a situation in here.”  

[hansensunshine]

could you do a rhaenyra x reader where reader is flirting with some lords unintentionaly so rhaenyra takes reader back to her room and punishes her please.i hope that doesn't bother you

of course!! i haven’t proof read this so i hope this is well written enough for you <3

— 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. [18+]

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x reader

synopsis: you are rhaenyra’s best friend (with benefits), turned to lovers.

tw: punishment in forms of; spanking.

summary: you are unintentionally flirting with some lords whilst rhaenyra is away, or so you thought.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ౨ৎ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈

you’ve been quite lonely without the princess by your side recently. she had important matters at dragonstone. as much as you wanted to go with her, she wouldn’t allow it, fearing you’ll see a side of her she doesn’t want you to see.

it’s been a few weeks without rhaenyra, you’ve grown quite used to it although you miss her like hell. you wish you could stay by her side and cling onto her at her every move, she was protective of you and was the only person who made you feel safe.

since the princess currently wasn’t at the red keep, you had to fill in for her. you had a few meetings today, according to alicent greeting you earlier in the morning, you were mostly anxious about the meeting with the lords. they had so much power over you, they could easily destroy you. you kept from thinking much about it, walking around the gardens like you’d normally do with the princess. the sky, the birds, even the bushes with different flowers were absolutely gorgeous. you absolutely adored nature, although the walk was interrupted by the queen alicent. you turned towards her and gave her a small smile. “what is it, your grace?” you bowed slightly in formality before returning the smile. “the lords are here early, i recommend you going to the hall now, y/n.” you let out a small sigh before nodding “of course, your grace.” she left you to be for a moment before you fixed your posture and started making your way inside.

you entered through the doors, before noting that all eyes were on you. you calmed yourself before walking towards them all. you gave them a small smile as they returned it, it made you feel more comfortable. “i’m filling in for—“ “princess rhaenyra, we know.” one lord spoke before you chuckled nervously. “of course, i’m sorry, my lord.” the lords gave each other looks, making you nervous again. another lord put their hand on your shoulder, as you looked up at them with your doe eyes. he chuckles softly. “you are quite the girl, aren’t you? tell me your name.” you were taken aback how sweet they all seemed. “i’m uhm- i’m y/n.” the same lord spoke again “i love your voice, y/n. don’t you agree?” he looked over at the other lords before they all nodded. you had grown the brightest smile. “thank you, my lords! it means so much.” you continued to smile not realising who was off into the distance, rhaenyra. the lords made small talk with you for a few more minutes, and you kindly took more of their compliments towards you. rhaenyra grew bored before rolling her eyes and walking towards the lords, with you in the centre between them. they managed to realise the princess was coming at quite a speed. one lord spoke before getting cut off. “my princess—“ “no need to speak, my lord.” rhaenyra spoke before you turned to face her, she immediately grabbed your arm before pulling you away, not being able to get a sentence in. “forgive me, my lords. this meeting will be cut shortly.” rhaenyra looked back at them before looking straight at you, you were confused to say the least. “you’re in big trouble, y/n.” you knew when she used your name it wasn’t going to be good. she preferred calling you baby, or something along those lines, even though you were not dating.

“rhaenyra, i have not done anything wrong!” you spoke as rhaenyra walked towards her bedroom still having a grip on your arm. as you both reached the room she slammed the door shut before pushing your body to the back of it, having her hands to stop you from moving away from the door. she leaned closely to you. “they were flirting with you, and you gladly took their compliments, y/n. you know how i feel about others flirting with you, you just allowed it to happen! not to mention you were blushing at their compliments.” she looked at you dead in the eye before you spoke, being slightly intimated her her, you haven’t seen this side of her, she’s normally so sweet to you. “rhaenyra.. i didn’t mean too, i didn’t know what i was doing! i just.. i missed you and getting compliments made me feel happy and it was sweet of them, i had to return their compliments!” rhaenyra sighed in response. “you’re too sweet, y/n. far too sweet for this world. but that doesn’t mean i’m not mad at you. she took her hands away and leaned back slightly, giving you space. you thought the conversation was over, but boy were you wrong.

“on the bed, now.” you looked at her in shock, it’s not as if you haven’t done anything like this before with rhaenyra, but her tone made it seem different somehow. you did as she told you, before her walking towards the bed, towards you. she flipped you over and got on the bed herself, kneeling towards the back of you, she lifted your dress revealing your white panties. she started to caress your ass cheeks. “your ass is so pretty, baby. so pretty.” you moaned quietly at her words and how she was caressing your ass cheeks, you felt small whilst she was talking to you like this.

SMACK. she hit one of your ass cheeks before you whine loudly in pain, how hard she hit you, but somehow it felt good. “that’s what you get for flirting with others that aren’t me.” SMACK. she hit your other ass cheek before pulling your ass closer to her, you couldn’t help but let out a whine again. “awe baby, am i being too harsh?” you nodded frantically before she cooed back at you. she smacked your ass again, even harder it seemed. you were almost on the verge of tears, but you knew you deserved this. “your cheeks are so red after just a few smacks, how cute.” she smacked your ass one last time before caressing your ass cheeks again, flipping you back over onto your back. she got on top of you before wiping your tears from your face, leaving a soft kiss onto your lips. “you aren’t theirs, you are mine.” she smirked softly at you before you pulled her even closer to you, just wanting to feel her body on yours. she chuckled softly. “you’ve missed me, haven’t you, baby?” you nodded and looked at her as she looked at you back. “maybe we should be more than just friends.”

[aemonds-wifey]

Summary: You and Osferth take your family to a sombre occasion, it is not as peaceful as you thought it would be.

Warnings: Smut

(Another delightful one shot requested by @chainsawsangel)

“A bit higher” you instructed

Edmund lifted the bow slightly he then sharply released the arrow and let it fly towards the target. It struck near the centre. You gasped with an impressed smile “Well done Edmund!”                                             He nodded in gratitude “I still missed the middle!!”       

Sihtric stood by you and clapped at Edmunds effort “Still a good technique. You have a good teacher.”                                                                                         “It will not be good If I miss and end up hitting a tree.” Edmund muttered.                                             You knelt beside him and rubbed his shoulder “I never hit the centre when I trained….You have only been practicing a week or so you are doing incredibly well.”                                                                       “I can do better Mother.” He said                                                                                       You reassured him with a kiss to the head “Nobody is a marksman at ten my boy. You are doing so well.”                                                                                       “Better then me when I attempted.”

You all turned round to see Osferth standing watching you both, he had his arms clasped behind his back. Edmund looked at him “Father look!”                                                 Osferth nodded “You will be a fine archer” Something was off about the way Osferth spoke, he seemed distracted, he looked at Sihtric “Can you take Edmund back? I need to talk to Y/N.” he said                                                                                                 Sihtric nodded “Of course…” he patted Osferth’s arm and called to Edmund “Come on boy, lets go find out how your brother is doing with his sword practice with Uncle Finan!” You quickly hugged Edmund as he walked past you to put down his bow on the log, Sihtric and he then walked over the ridge and back to the settlement. You noticed Osferth’s expression. “What is it my love?” He sighed deeply and embraced you, you worried as you held him. Breaking apart and looking at him. “My aunt…my mother’s sister, Eedwin has passed…Her daughter, Freyja has written.” He said holding a crumpled letter. Your eyes dropped “Oh Osferth…my love I’m so sorry…I know how found you were of her. She was the one who took you to the monastery wasn’t she?” He nodded “Indeed…” he smiled with fond memories “I wrote to her often…I am glad she met Edmund and Stigir when they were babies…I only wish she could have met Estrid and Cenric.” He sighed. You reassured him by holding his arms and looking up at him “She met our eldest, I too am sad she never met Estrid and Cenric but my love she was not well then…she wrote to us and we will cherish those memories. “He kissed you slowly and smiled “You are right…”                                                                                           “She was good to you Osferth…we must pay our respects.”                                                                     He nodded “I was about to ask about attending the funeral…It is in Winchester…We would need to leave in the morrow.”      You nodded “It is not a problem…we will go Osferth. Together. All of us.” You promised

🍂

Winchester was not how you expected, in truth you thought Runcorn was more attractive. The journey had been uneventful and you were welcomed with open arms by Freyja, Osferth’s cousin. She was a warm, mothering figure that reminded you of Eedwin when you met her. She had six children of her own, and they immediately all were happy to meet your own children. It put your mind at ease to be in the home of Osferth’s family, even if they were not as familiar, it felt as if you were not strangers, the children enjoyed each others company…and even if this visit was brief you would do your best to support Osferth in this period of loss.

*

The funeral itself was a peaceful event, Osferth remained composed throughout but your hand remained on his and squeezed it occasionally. Your children stood in front of you, keeping quiet as the Saxon priest delivered a eulogy for Osferth’s aunt. Frejya stood with her own children looking remarkably stoic, you had never attended a funeral like this before-as you glanced round to observe the customs you spotted a man who stood near Frejya, looking at you with a studying look that made you slightly uncomtorble. Your eyes shifted back to Osferth, he kept his head down and you joined him.                                                                                                 Osferth’s aunt was laid to rest in the ground, again a Saxon custom you had not gotten your head around as you were use to burning your dead and sending them off  to Odin’s hall. Osferth stood with his cousin Freyja,  You left them to talk and catch up as you walked with the children.  Edmund stayed close by, walked with you and you noticed Freyja’s children sat by the tree talking amongst themselves, you knelt down and looked at them “Why don’t you go and talk to your cousins? Hmm?”

Stigir nodded, Cenric and Estrid also agreed. Edmund stayed by your side “I’ll stay with you.”

You nodded “Thank you son.” The rest of your children went along to sit with their cousins, Edmund looked up at you “Are you sad Mother?” he asked

You nodded “I am …I only met her the once when you were babies, but your father will need cheering up later, maybe you could both go for a walk? He would like that.”

Edmund nodded “I’ll suggest it after supper.”

You leant down and kissed him on the head, he was growing and you  were sure that  before long he would grow taller than you. You both walked around the church yard, passing the various flowers that eclipsed the whole grounds. It was beautiful and peaceful. You both approached an old well and stood by it, Edmund looked around “What do you think of Winchester then Edmund?” you asked.

He shrugged “It seems nice…but it is not home. “

You nodded “It is where your father is from, he met uncle Uhtred here and then he joined his group and travelled up north.”

“Where he met you!” Edmund exclaimed.

“Exactly right. And I have never been happier.”   You said smiling ruffling your fingers through Edmunds thick hair.

“You must tell me your saga Mother. Your journey to England and how you and father fell -“

“I will when you are older my boy.” You chuckled.

Edmund laughed and looked around at the tall spire on the church, your gaze could see your other children playing with their cousins-full of glee which warmed your heart. You inhaled slowly as you searched for Osferth but you could not see him, as you spoke with Edmund. You looked up and saw the man you recognised it as the man who gave you an uneasy look in the church. He still held that expression as he moved towards you, you did not look at him directly, only a quick glance. He stopped and observed you and you  finally met his gaze.

“Your with Osferth? Frejya’s cousin.” He said rather harshly. You nodded “I am Osferth’s wife.”     You said proudly.

He spat by your feet “Danish whore…”                       Edmund moved with a brazen stance and bravely stood in front of you as backed away from the man.                                                                              “Leave her be!” Edmund yelled                                                                                             The man scoffed “Back away boy if you know what is good for you.”                                                                         You held your arm around Edmund “Do not speak to my son like that.”                                                                            “Hes a bastard like his father, I’ll talk to him like I wish you Viking whore.”                                                Edmund shoved him further than he anticipated, the man tumbled to  his knee , he was enraged and held his arm up as he approached you both, you brought Edmund back round and protected him under your shoulder. “You little bastard!!! Son of a whore!”

Before he could lay a finger on you or Edmund you saw Osferth grab the raised hand and pull him back, He tumbled to the ground properly this time on his back. He struggled to get to his feet quickly but once he did he swung at Osferth, who leant back missing the punch. He dodged another incoming punch and turned on his side, kicking the foolish man to the floor.  Osferth stood over him and kicked him in the side , before kneeling down and grabbing his collar , pulling his face close to his “You DARE…speak to my wife or any of my children again and I will kill you. You will wish for me to smite you because I will do worse to you.”                                                                                                         He aggressively shoved him to the ground. You held tightly and protectively over Edmund as you watched Osferth catch his breath. Frejya approached you both and looked to the drunk man “Leave this place Helbert…you are no longer welcome.”                                                                                                                                              He got to his feet and stared at Osferth, who unconsciously held the sword on his waist-you inhaled as you arms rested tightly on Edmunds shoulders.

The man realising he was in the wrong slowly backed away and headed away from the church yard and left Winchester. Osferth looked at you and Edmund , he knelt in front of his son and held his arms “You are a brave lad…protecting your mother.”

“Why did he call me a bastard?” Edmund asked "Is that ..is…that ….what I am?”

You gulped , your heart broke thinking about this conversation-Osferth looked at his son with genuine reassurance “You are our son…we welcomed you into this world with your brother under our  union…you are no bastard Edmund. You and your siblings are my greatest pride and joy.” Edmund looked into his fathers eyes “Truly…?”

Osferth looked at him “I was born in circumstances that earned me the name bastard…I had no relationship with my father. Which is why I made a promise that when my own children arrived I would aspire to be there for you and my boy I am so blessed to have such a wonderful and caring son.”

“I could not wish for a better father…” Edmund said “Nor a more loving mother…”                                 Osferth smiled “My dear boy.” Osferth brought him forward and hugged him. His eyes met yours as you laid a hand to your chest over your heart, which was swelling up at what you saw. Even after ten years of marriage you knew the fire that burned for Osferth would never be extinguished.                             Osferth looked at Edmund “You and your brother’s and sister are the greatest gift. Even if you were a bastard which you are not….I would not love you less.”        

Edmund wrapped his arms around his fathers neck once again in a sweet embrace. You were on the verge of tears which brought you happiness. Osferth let go of Edmund who was smiling, “Go find your brothers and sister…play with them.” He instructed kindly. He then got to his feet, you smiled at him and took his hands. He looked at you with concern, you only nodded to reassure him you were perfectly fine.

Freyja approached you “Apologises Y/N, Osferth, Helbert is a wayward idiot…did he hurt you? Is Edmund alright?”

“We are fine yes please do not fret Freyja.” You answered.

Osferth looked at her “Thank you cousin. I will go and pray for his soul I think…”

You caught a look in Osferth’s eyes, he knew what you were thinking, yet you noticed a silent urgency displayed in Osferth’s eyes…a look you had not seen for a while. Osferth cleared his throat “Frejya can you watch the children for a moment?”

*

Osferth lead you to the church, you stood inside and waited for him to close the door. He even barred it. Agonising slowly.

You watched him before turning and approaching the alter, looking up at the heavy metallic cross that hung from the rafters. You closed your eyes briefly, and hearing Osferth slowly approach you gave you tingles along the skin on your arm.

His hands found your waist and clasped at your front, his chin found its way to your chin, planting delicate kisses to your neck and his lips moved to your earlobe-biting it softly. A gasp escaped your mouth as his bites became more frequent, His hand ruffled around in your dress, finding a gap he palmed his hand down to your core, his fingers rubbed in intercreative circles which made you hiss in pleasure. You leant forward unable to contain your stature, Osferth leant forward with you-feeling him hard against your lower back, you turned your head and met his lips, which parted ever so slightly as you moaned his name into his mouth.

He abruptly stopped and flipped you around, facing him you kissed him straight away trying to find your hand to his cock but he took control. His grip on your waist dug into your skin as he lifted you onto the stone alter, resting on the velvet blood wine cloth his hand resumed to crawl up to your thigh-as your hand resumed an attempt to grab his hard cock. He pulled down your dress which exposed one of your breasts, as soon as you noticed he bent down to swirl his tongue over your hardened nipple. You free hand roamed around to the back of his head, carefully grazing the hair on his head. You other hand found its way to his cock, you palmed it in such a way that made him shudder with intense glee that he briefly stopped himself kissing your bare chest. You moved your hand up and down with a slow pace to start, as you picked up the pace and he lifted himself up to meet your lips with his.

He held onto your hand that rested on his cock, stopping you moving it. He grinned at you as he moved your hand and pushed you down gently on the alter. Your back met with the cloth and the stone, which sent a shiver down your spine, he stood over you looking so determined and yet the lust made his eyes burn with an affectionate desire. You felt him line his cock up with your sensitive folds, without a word he pushed into you and leant over to crash his lips against yours. You felt him push further in you, going deeper which made you cry out in exquisite moans, echoing in the church halls in between kisses. He moaned as he fucked you against the alter, your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, you caught glimpse of his eyes which almost stared into the very dept of your soul. The baby monk who stole your heart a decade ago, now taking you in this holy building-it felt sinful but the pleasure that overwhelmed you made you forget the location of your love making.

“Y/N I’m so close….” He breathed.

You responded with grunts of gratification that made him bury his nose in the crook of your neck, you felt close too and within seconds you felt your walls constrict against him. You felt him empty himself in you as you felt the familiar euphoric discharge claim your body and mind. Osferth gasped against your skin with his teeth grazing your neck as you tilted your head back, the wave of pleasure left you feeling dazed and highly satisfied. Osferth’s breathing was ragged as he waited a long moment before releasing himself from you and facing you, you lifted your head slightly and both smiled as he grabbed your arms and lifted you up, he resumed to stand and pulled you into a strong embrace. Your legs wrapped round his waist and rested your arms around his shoulders, he grinned and kissed your jaw “Heavens woman…”                                                                                       You smiled as he dotted your face with tiny brief kisses “Do you think God watched?” you asked playfully.                                                                                        “I do not care…” he said kissing your lips with an affection you knew would never die.

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