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snoopyana · 4 months

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yale.

“ she can’t do nothing but yale. “

he had you pinned down, face squished into the pillows. the sound of muffled moans and skin slapping together filled the room. his phone propped up on the nightstand — recorded a video for his distant girlfriend. as a little hint that he wasn’t coming home tonight.

na jaemin. smut.

the whole ground under you shook as some drill song played, bass boosted to the max. gripping the red cup in your hand, it had been maybe.. 2 hours since you got here.

it wasn’t enjoyable.

looking around, you tried to make out your friends. you already knew that mark left, from his slurred text messages. but you had no idea where hyuck or johnny was. maneuvering your way through the crowd, you stumbled into the kitchen. reaching for the fridge, praying there was waterbottles — because you definitely weren’t sober enough for your liking.

fumbling through the fridge, you failed to realize the man standing next to you. watching you. grasping onto a small plastic bottle. you emerged from the fridge, satisfied with your find. looking to your left, that’s finally when you saw him.

startled, almost losing your already horrible footing, you stepped back. “oh my god…nana you scared me.” gripping onto your chest for dear life, you quickly compose yourself again. popping the bottle open, chugging it. mumbling under your breath, “god i needed that.”

“How you doing yn?” focusing back on jaemin, you realized this is your first time seeing him tonight. “good, could be better.” pausing for a moment “when did you get here?” he was leaning on the counter now, you standing in front of him. “not more than twenty minutes ago.” he yelled slightly, trying to drown out the music.

“ah, well are you enjoying it?” you asked him, shifting your weight, foot to foot. “not really, i was planning on leaving, then i saw you pushing through the crowd.” looking forward, you realized he was making direct eye contact. a smile creeping onto his face.

“i was actually gonna leave too, i just needed a little drink that wasn’t alcohol.” massaging your temple, there was a comfortable silence between you two. if you take out the music that is. “i can take you home.” jaemin spoke up, as he was still sober. you on the other hand, you couldn’t remember how many times you refilled your now discarded cup.

“yeah, i’d appreciate that, thanks nana.” and with that, he was leading you to the front door, holding onto your waist, keeping you from getting swept into the crowd. the cold air hit you like a storm, unsure what the time was. but it was dark. probably around midnight.

he didn’t let go of your waist until you were in his car. the gesture making you heat up. or maybe it was the alcohol that still lingered in your system. the ride was nice, it consisted of you telling him where to turn, and you guys laughing when he still ended up taking a wrong turn.

“gosh nana, you’d think you’re the drunk one with how you’re driving . “ a ten minute drive turned into a 40 minutes. but you weren’t complaining, he had a blanket in his car. which you used as you curled up in his passenger seat.

you weren’t necessarily tired, just a little out of it. Jaemin took notice of that, freeing one of his hands to snake under the blanket, rubbing your leg. you had been wearing green cargo pants, a gray fitted shirt and a black zipup. nothing too fancy, but he liked how it looked on you.

not minding his hand, as physical contact was something he did often, you stared out the window. seeing your apartment complex come into view. parking in the lot, he came around and opened the door for you. His hands find their way back to your waist as you lead him to the lobby. opting for the elevator, it was a quiet ride to the 7th floor. breathing and the rumble of the machine filling your ears.

a bing broke the silence, and you stepped out in unison. feeling around your pockets, searching for your keys. finding them in your back pocket, brushing against jaemins stomach as you pulled them out. unlocking your door, you both kicked your shoes off.

“finally. somewhere quiet.” (not for long, but i digress—) you mumbled, stumbling over jaemins feet as he was still attached to you. “oh my bad.” he spoke, moving with you to the living. he sat down first, and you followed. resting your head on his shoulder, you pulled out your phone. ‘1:27AM’ blared on your screen as you scrolled through your notification inbox. a few texts from hyuck asking where you were.

jaemin did the same, but his inbox was filled by one person. his girlfriend. he hadn’t told her he was leaving(and that he didn’t plan on coming back.) she had been on his ass all week, about useless shit. not calling her enough when he was at work. not being able to read her mind when she wanted something and expecting him to know. blah blah blah. he was tired, and needed a change of scenery.

that’s when he saw you, and decided he was gonna do just that, get a change of scenery. so here you are — laying on your couch. his arm gripping around your waist, which seemed to be his favorite spot. this felt like cheating, it was cheating. but he was too deep in to turn back.

“how you feeling, yn?” he questioned, looking down at you as you scrolled through your phone. “pretty good now, thanks for taking me home.” placing your phone down, you looked up to meet his gaze. then it happened. he leaned down, kissing you. you knew he had a girlfriend, he knew he had a girlfriend. but her existence quickly was pushed out of your mind.

the small kiss turning into a makeout session. your lipgloss smeared on yours and his face. lip outlines all over his neck — hickeys on yours. it was getting more and more intense by the minute. the alcohol that still floated in your system being a big help. pulling away from his lips, you maybe eye contact.

“are you sure this is..okay?” you whispered. being answered with a head nod and a smile. “i’m sure, i need to get away from her anyway.” his lips were back on yours, as you straddled his lap. the tent in his pants becoming painful obvious.

without warning, you were picked up — your body quickly meeting your bed. he knew your apartment like the back of his hand, occasionally crashing here when he needed a break from her but this was the first time you guys ever touched like this.

his lips were back on yours. biting on your lips, earning a whine from you. his hands made his way down to your waist, this time opting to pull whatever you had on, off. breaking away, he looked at you. “can i continue?” he questioned in a hushed tone. a small “mhm” was all he needed, and your pants were thrown onto the floor, leaving your underwear. he continued to undress you, slowly.

every time he pulled off an article of clothing, he would plant soft kisses onto your skin — making your whole body shudder. until you were left in just your bra and panties. and he was hovering over you, fully clothed. something about that made you even more hot and bothered.

as you looked at him, his fingers wasted no time. slipping underneath your underwear. his index and middle forcing their way inside of your hole. an embarrassingly loud moan coming from out of your mouth. a sly smile on his face, he was enjoying this. a lot.

his fingers pumped in and out at a painfully slow pace. occasionally curling his fingers to hit that gummy part just right. his thumb working slow circles over your clit in the process.

meanwhile, you were falling apart. moaning his name, swears slipping out of your mouth. he loved it. watching you lose yourself with just his fingers. then he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. remembering the problem that was always poking at his neck. using his free hand, he pulled out his phone. his fingers never once stopping their mini assault on your insides.

he answered her call. “hello?” yelling could he heard from the other end, but he didn’t care for what she was saying. putting her on speaker, he threw his phone onto the bed. leaning down towards you ear. “be loud babe, i want to shut her up.” and with that, his fingers moved faster. your moans filling the room. repeatedly whining out “ah jaemin! please..” as he continued to pick up the speed.

she went silent. was she actually hearing this rn? his girlfriend started screaming even louder into the phone. jaemin reached over, and hung up. as he did, you gripped onto his shirt. a knot forming in your core. “ m’ gonna cum jaemin.” and you did. the male fucked you through your high.

she was calling again, before answering jaemin placed kisses on your forehead. “tell me when its too much.” he flipped you onto your stomach, face stuffed into your pillows. unbuckling his pants, he got onto the bed with you. his phone propped up against your lamp. he clicked record. sliding your panties off and unclicking your bra. he threw them to the side.

his brown hair fell over his face as he lined himself up with your hole. making sure both of your lower halves were in frame. with a swift motion, his hips were pressed against your ass. your moans being muffled by the abundance of pillows that decorated your bed.

“fuck..” letting out a groan as he bottomed out. taking a few moments before he began thrusting. your walls clenching around him as he stretched you out on his cock.

“ohh fuck. you never felt this good minyoung.” he groaned while speaking. his thrusts was a mix of long and slow, then fast and hard. making you go dumb underneath him. “fuck jaemin, ‘m gonna cum again..” was heard from beneath the pillows.

“go ahead, cum as many times as you please.” he whispered into your ear, helping you reach your climax once again.

the video was 50 minutes long. he laid with you in your bed. he was still fully dressed, while your naked body clung onto his. it was now 4:28AM. jaemin was cutting up the video into parts, sending them to his very angry girlfriend.

jaemin

‘hope you don’t mind, i had a little fun last night.’

he was left on open.

note- i wrote this in an hour. please cut me some slack if some parts don’t make sense. i had an idea and wanted to write it down as quick as possible!!

note #2- did some reformatting. same fic just more pleasing to look at. fic is now 100% proofread, if there’s still any mistakes, don’t be shy to tell me. 💗

#luvyujun #fanfic #kpop #nct #nct dream #jaemin #smut #kpop smut #renjun #mark lee #haechan #jeno #chenle #park jisung #nct 127 #nct smut #wayv

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scribblesofagoonerr · 21 days

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It's only up from here now on, kid

Since this one won in the poll that I put out, here it is ✌🏼

Thank you so much @alotofpockets for the help with this post!

Let me know what you all think & I hope you like it.

Ps. It's almost 2 am and I'm tired so I apologise if the last bit of this doesn't make much sense at all... 🫠

“It’s going to be fine, remember?” Beth tries her best to reassure you as she takes a gentle hold of your hand on her own, “Just breathe, you’re okay” she adds.

“I’m scared” You admit, barely louder than a whisper.

Viv glances at you and smiles at you sympathetically from the seat opposite, “It’s normal to feel like you do, kleintje” she tells you.

“We’re going to be right here for you the whole time” Beth promises you as she moves her free arm to wrap it around your shoulder and tug you in a little bit closer, “We’re not leaving you” she states in reassurance.

It was unfortunate for you that the day of your planned surgery came around quicker than you initially would’ve liked and you couldn’t avoid it any longer now.

The way that your uninjured knee bounced up and down anxiously and your hands that were ridiculously clammy was a clear indication of actually how worried and scared you were about this.

Both Beth and Viv could tell straight away that you were beginning to freak out the moment that you had stepped into the waiting room; You’d always hated hospitals, there was just something about them that made you always try and avoid them when it was possible.

However, this surgery wasn’t something that you could just brush under the carpet, because it was important and it was needed if you wanted to continue with your career.

Initially you thought the hardest thing that you would have to face would be dealing with the aftermath of it all, listening to the media drone on about how this injury would rule you out the rest of the current season and any international breaks for the next 9 months, like you didn’t already need enough of a reminder about your dream of the olympics being over.

It was like a virtual kick in the teeth.

You hated the fact you were sidelined from the games and despite how much you had the support of Beth, Viv, Laura, Leah and hell even the rest of the girls, it still hurt to deal with it all.

Even Kyra’s mischievous ways couldn’t put a smile on your face most days, nor the adorable puppy cuddles from Myle, Beth & Vivs’ new pup that you’d completely fallen in love with.

“Is it too late to just turn around and go back home?” You can’t help but wonder, glancing around the hospital waiting room apprehensively.

Beth lets out a small laugh, “We can’t do that kiddo, we’re already here now” she replies to your question.

Pouting quietly, you fumble with your hands which has become a trait that you’d do when you're nervous, “I… I don’t want to be here. I’m scared” you confess.

“I know kiddo, but you have nothing to be worried about” The blonde tells you in reassurement, doing her best to ease your worries about your feelings of the upcoming surgery, “The surgeons are good, they know what they're doing here” she reminds you.

“They have done it enough times” Viv chips in quietly, earning a small chuckle from Beth.

“I hate hospitals” You complain a few seconds later.

“I know that you do, kiddo” Beth smiles at you sympathetically, all but wishing that she could take your pain and suffering away.

It had hurt Beth and Viv so much to see you go down on the pitch in the way that you did, they’d not openly had a conversation about it but it was definitely understood that they shared mutual feelings about the whole situation.

None of it was fair for you, you were on the path to succeed and just like that, this cruel injury has wiped that all away in just a blink of an eye.

Life really was cruel sometimes.

“Can you… Can you run me through it again, please? Just so I remember what’s going to happen” You mumble quietly, but still loud enough for the two women to hear you ask the question, “Please” You whisper, sounding unusually vulnerable compared to usual.

“Okay” Beth exhales a sigh, she’d already run over the whole procedure of what would happen at least twice, or maybe even three times previously, but if it eased your own worries than she’d do what she could to help you out, “You want me to run you through the procedure, or the whole of it in general?” she wonders.

“All of it” You whisper, fumbling with the strings of yours– Laura’s hoodie that you had somehow stolen from her but you liked the way that it buried you and made you feel small enough to try and escape the world.

The blonde nods in understanding before she starts to explain it once more, “So in the next hour or so from now, your names’ going to be called and you’ll be taken to the room that you’ll be in before your operation” she pauses for a minute to let you catch up to speed, “You’ll have a hospital gown to change into that they’ll give you when you go into the room along with a pair of them snazzy socks, huh? So you just be able to pull the look off” she jokes with you, trying to keep the conversation light and jokey to avoid you getting any further worried.

“Nobody can pull a look like that off, well other than Leah I suppose” You mumble as you giggle slightly at the comment.

“Well she can pull anything off” Viv chuckles, shaking her head amusedly as she tries to bury her own feelings down to not have you feel any more scared than you need to be.

“Even a bin bag” Beth jokes with you both, “Alright, so your surgery isn’t until 4 o’clock, remember? So you’re going to have to wait a bit, but we’ll be right in the room with you to keep you company, up until the minute you go down” she adds.

You follow along and nod, somehow Beth running through everything again does a little something to settle your bubbling nerves, “What happens after that?” you ask.

“Before you go down to the operating room, there will be an anaesthetist that will come and see you beforehand to discuss the options of anaesthetic before you go down” The blonde tells you, pausing for you to quickly catch up on the last bit of information, “Remember how we spoke about the anaesthetist inserting a cannula into your vein as well? They’ll do that, so they’ll be able to administer any medicine that’s needed during the operation” she tells you.

“Will the cannula hurt?” You start to panic once more, you were vaguely familiar with the fact that a cannula was a sharp needle that would be painful and you absolutely hated needles.

“It will be just like a sharp string, but it’ll be over soon enough” Viv is quick to tell you when she notes the panic in your eyes, they both definitely knew how much you hated anything medically, and they’d definitely experienced their fair share of dealing with your panic attacks when you’ve needed any type of injections in the past, “They’ll give you the anaesthetic that’ll put you to sleep” she adds.

“Will it be a n… needle?” You absolutely hate needles, you’re terrified of them and every single doctor's experience in the past had always been disastrous ever since you were little.

“You won’t feel it initially, kleintje” Viv tells you as she places a gentle hand on your uninjured knee to stop it bouncing anxiously, “You’ll have a cannula in your hand. When you're down in the operating room, the anaesthetist will ask you to count backwards from 10 while they administer it and before you even get to finish, you’ll be completely out of it so they can begin the operation” she explains to you.

You slump your shoulders as you feel slightly more at ease, “Oh, okay then. That… That doesn’t sound too bad then” You mumble, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat, “So the doctors will know what they’re doing?”

“They do, they have done it enough times” Beth says as she lightly chuckles.

“And when I wake up from surgery then Leah and Laura will be here as well, right?” You ask hopeful, after all they’d both told you that they would be and you hoped that they wouldn’t break their promise.

“Yes, they have both promised that they will be here” Beth replies in agreement.

Smiling slightly, you nod in agreement with the blonde, “They can’t break the promise then, can they?” You quietly ask, fumbling with the strings again.

“No they can't, otherwise they’ll face a very unhappy girl after surgery” The blonde jokes, ruffling your hair, which earns a small grumble of protest from you.

“Feel less nervous now?” Viv questions, hopeful that you did feel at ease a little bit.

“A little bit, but I really hate hospitals” You huff in annoyance, shaking your head, “And I really hate stupid knees’ as well” You mumble quietly.

Beth can’t help but snort amusedly, “Don’t we all, kiddo… Don’t we all, hey?” she jokes, still trying to keep the conversation light still.

“Okay, we’re going to take you down now, Y/N” The surgeon tells you once they’ve finished spieling all of the medical jargon, which you didn’t really listen to too much.

When they placed the cannula, you can’t deny that it didn’t hurt. There were a few tears in your eyes, but you consider yourself to be mostly brave in comparison to not freaking out about it.

“O… Okay” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat that had formed, the nerves settling in once again.

Beth takes a gentle hold of your own when she can sense your worries, “Don’t be scared, kiddo. You’re in great hands” she reassures you, or at least tries to do that.

“We’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back” Viv chips in, trying to contain her own fears and worries in favour of yours.

You glance between them wearily, “Y… You promise?” You question in fear, although you know that of course they’ll be sat waiting in the room for you and they wouldn’t let you go through this on your own.

“We promise” Beth replies in agreement.

“We promise, kleintje” Viv adds in.

“Love you both” You tell them, it’s barely louder than a whisper but both women are able to hear it and smile at you fondly.

“We love you too, kleintje” Viv tells you, placing a light kiss on the top of your head.

Beth smiles and swaps places with Viv to be closer to you, “We love you so much, our wonder kid” she tells you, kissing the top of your head again, “We’ll be right here when you come back. We’re not going anywhere” she adds.

The very single second that you left the hospital room with the surgeons, it was like Viv completely fell apart trying to hold it together any longer now you weren’t there, constantly pacing the floor in the hospital room up and down as Beth watched her girlfriend, worriedly.

“Viv, you’re pacing the floor so much. You might put a dent in it” Beth jokes lightly, furrowing her eyebrows as she watches in concern as her girlfriend get worked up

“I know, I can’t help it” Viv admits as she still continues to pace the floor, not pausing to take a breath or speak to her girlfriend,

“I think you might be more nervous than Y/N was before she went down” Beth jokes, trying to keep the mood in the room light.

“I am nervous for Y/N” Viv admits quietly, just loud enough for her girlfriend to be able to hear what she said.

Beths’ facial expression softens in realisation at just how worried Viv actually was about you and your impending surgery, “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“BecauseI was trying to be strong for Y/N, she was scared enough without seeing me to fall to pieces” Viv explains to the blonde, shaking her head and still continuing to pace the floor, “You’re not worried for her?” she asks.

“Of course, I am nervous for her but I’m trying to be brave for her and put my feelings aside” Beth replies to the Dutch womans’ question, “I know it’s hard to keep it all in though. You know that she’s going to be okay though” she tells her.

Viv exhales a sigh and shakes her head, “I’m trying, but it’s so hard and she’s still so young. None of this is fair, Beth” she mumbles.

“I know, leifje” Beth mumbles in agreement before she exhales a sigh herself.

“This is her first major surgery. You saw how scared she looked before, I just can’t help but be worried right now” Viv states, still pacing the floor continuously.

Beth frowns and moves to step in front of her girlfriend to stop any further pacing, “Viv, leifje. I know you’re worried for her but you know that the surgeons here are good and you know that she’s in safe hands” she does her best to reassure her girlfriends’ own fears.

Viv halts from her continuous pacing and exhales a loud sigh, “I know, and I know that too as well but I still can’t be less worried about her until I see her” she confesses.

“That might still be a while yet though, so how about we just sit down?” The blonde suggests, gesturing to the empty chairs in the room, “This pacing isn’t healthy either” she notes.

“What if something goes wrong?” Viv questions in concern.

“Viv, Y/N/N is going to be fine” Beth still tries to reassure her girlfriend, gently pulling her towards the empty chairs, “She’s going to be so brave” she tells her.

“But what if–” Vivs’ question is cut off.

“Viv, leifje” Beth interjects with a soft smile, “Listen, I know you’re worried but there’s nothing that we can do to control this right now. Y/N is in safe hands with the medical professionals, remember?” she reminds her girlfriend.

“You’re right, I know you are but what if–” Viv starts to speak again.

“Vivianne, all that we can do right now is sit down and wait” Beth cuts in, holding her girlfriends’ hand in her own, “I’m just as worried about her as you are, but all of this pacing the floor isn’t going to help ease your worries nor mine, so please just come and sit down” she tells her girlfriend gently.

“Okay” The Dutch woman nods in agreement and moves to sit down beside her girlfriend.

Beth smiles at the woman and joins her to sit down, “Thank you. Y/N/N is going to be okay, she’s our strong girl” she states, trying to remain positive for the both of them.

“We’re here!” Laura announces, rushing into the hospital room as fast as she could without injuring herself again.

“We made it here, finally. Traffic was a nightmare on the way here” Leah follows the younger girl in, shaking her head, disgruntled by the typical London traffic that made her get stuck in the middle of rush-hour traffic.

“You both made it here, that’s the main thing” Beth breathes a sigh of relief that she’d been holding in for a while, glad that both of them had made it to the hospital before you came back from surgery.

“The room was a little hard to find. Hospitals always confuse me still” Laura mumbles, moving to sit down in an empty seat in your hospital room.

“Baby England still down in surgery?” Leah questions, settling into the seat Laura.

“Yes” Viv exhales a sigh.

“They took her down around 4 pm, so hopefully it won’t be much longer now” Beth hopes as she takes a quick glance at the time on her phone, apprehensive to mention anything about complications in case that would make Viv panic all over again.

“Gotcha” Leah nods in understanding, glancing between the couple, “How’re you both holding up?” she checks in with them.

Beth can’t help but chuckle slightly, “Well I think Viv’s been a lot more nervous about this than I was led to believe, so it seems like I’m just trying to hold it together for the two of us at this point now” she jokes with the blonde, mock-teasing her girlfriends’ need to worry so much.

“Hey, Y/N is like our own kid. You’re just as worried about her as I am!” Viv insists firmly, shaking her head at her blonde girlfriend.

“I am worried, leifje” Beth responds in agreement, taking a gentle hold of her girlfriends’ hand in her own.

Leah chuckles slightly and shakes her head, “The rest of the girls all send their love, they’d be here as well but they didn’t want to crowd her too much. Steph had to pull Kyra back from her trying to get in my car to join us” she adds in, amusedly.

“We can invite them around when Y/N/N is up for visitors” Viv suggests, trying to chat now to distract any more nervous thoughts about you. Beth was right, you were in safe hands and there was nothing that she could do to change what happens in the operating room.

Beth smiles and nods in agreement, “I’m sure she’d like that” she states.

It felt like several more hours had passed before you finally made an appearance in the room, fast asleep still from the general anaesthetic that you’d been given.

“Here she is” Leah cheers quietly as she spots you still asleep as they wheel your bed back into the hospital room.

“Surgery went well?” Viv checks in with the surgeon.

“Surgery went very well” The surgeons beams a wide smile in agreement with the woman.

Given the general post-op run down from the surgeons, they left the room and the ACL crew were now just waiting for you to wake up and come back around from the anaesthetic, which wasn’t too long afterwards thankfully.

“Ah, look whos’ finally woken up” Beth jokes when she sees your eyes prise open, “Hello sleepy head” she adds.

You groan as you come around from the slumper you were previously in, feeling slightly disoriented about things, “Ugh. Where am I?” You mumble, not completely aware of your surroundings yet.

“You’re in hospital, Y/N” Beth chuckles slightly and shakes her head, “Did you bang your head down there, huh? We’re all here for you, just like we said” she motions around the room the 4 familiar faces.

“Mhm, oh yeah. Had knee surgery-- Le, you're here, you came!” You mumble in realisation as you squint your eyes and look round the room, spotting Leah and Laura along with Beth and Viv, who had been strangely quiet still since you’d woken up.

"Ahem, I'm here too, you know?" Laura chips in, amusingly.

"Laur! You're here too!" You exclaim in realisation, excited to see the older girl, "Can I go home now?" You ask, eager to get out of the hospital as you thought you had already been here long enough.

“Whoa easy there, let’s just take it slow, huh? There’s no rush” Beth replies, laughing amusedly as she watches you try and climb out of the hospital bed, still very much under the anaesthetic so you couldn’t feel how much pain you were really in.

You can’t help but pout in disappointment, “My own beds’ more comfier than this one though” you note.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "Glad to see that you've not lost your sense of humour, baby England" she teases you lightly.

"Le!" You exclaim in glee, so high still from the anaesthetic that you forgot she was here again and you are just so happy to see her again, "You're here!" You add in joy.

"I am. I promised you that I would be here, didn't I?" The blonde defender laughs in amusement at your own expense, "It's nice to see that you're in the land of the living now, eh?" she still continues to tease you.

The second that you lie your eyes on Viv, it only takes a few seconds before the floodgate of tears is opened as you stare at her in shock, before you giggle slightly.

"Seriously, Vivi? You told me to not be worried yet here you are, balling your eyes out" You can't help but laugh hysterically, mostly from the anaesthetic making you feel so loopy, "This whole time you've been so worried yourself!" You add in.

Beth chuckles and shakes her head amusedly, "Oh kiddo, she's been beside herself with worry" she tells you as she gently squeezes you on the shoulder, "Remember now, it's only up from here now on, kid" she tells you.

"It's only up from here now on" You parrot the blonde in agreement, happy enough to be closer to leaving that dreaded hospital.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #meadema x reader #leah williamson x reader #laura weinroither x reader #heavy angst

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kelcemenow · 3 months

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Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 6.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1438

Warnings Strong language, the intention of violence and a whole heap of protective Travis!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

"Who's Jordan?"

You winced as you rose from the bed, grabbing your deep red satin robe from the corner of your door, "He works at the shop with me."

"Okay?" Travis said, his voice indicating confusion.

"I don't know why he's here." You mumbled quickly as your fingers fumbled with the ties, "He must be wasted."

Travis held himself up with an elbow, watching carefully as you stepped towards your front door. The cool hardwood flooring gave your skin a slight sting as your feet made contact. You paused for a second, your hand ghosting the handle, before pulling the door open.

Jordan was leaning against the wall, his head lowered to the floor, his balance unsteady. You glanced over your shoulder and looked to Travis, rolling your eyes and shrugging your shoulders quickly.

"Jordan?" You said impatiently.

His head quickly snapped up to meet your gaze, his expression vacant, "Hey, you took ages." His slurred speech was enough to confirm your suspicions.

You took a small step forward, holding the door open with your foot, "What are you doing here?"

"I was out...at a bar. And I lost my phone so I couldn't call a cab."

"You want to use my phone?" You pointed your thumb over your shoulder.

Jordan sloppily adjusted his messy, brown hair before reaching out for your hand, "Or I could...stay here?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." You retreated away from his grasp.

His eyebrows grew closer together, his confusion clear, "Oh come on...don't play me like that."

"I'm not playing you like anything, Jordan." You smiled politely and confidently stepped towards the door to block the entrance way, "I think you should go."

Jordan stumbled as he took a step, his eyelids drooping, "All this time... you've been flirting, leading me on-"

"Woah, that's not true." You held your palm up as Jordan grew closer, "We're friends, remember?"

Jordan's face twisted, his head swaying from side to side, "Are you fucking serious? I thought we were...you know? You...you let me crash here?"

"One time, Jordan. Because I didn't want you to drive home after 12 beers."

His hand grazed your hip, "You flirt with me...at work...and shit...now you're-"

An anger was beginning to build up in your chest, "Jordan, we're friends."

"Girls don't have friends that are guys!" He said with a short laugh.

"I do."

"You watched as "Yeah, well. You're not a normal girl, are you?"

"A...normal girl?" You failed to hide the hurt in your voice.

Jordan, unaware of his poor choice of words, sighed before muffling his next incoherent sentence, "Yeah, a normal girl. You know what I mean? You don't make an effort or anything, you don't wear heels or nice dresses...like, it's fine-"

"Jordan, stop."

"But, I know you. No one knows you like I do. We would be perfect." He closed the gap between you, "And I mean, I don't see any other guys knocking at your door." He exhaled an arrogant laugh, his tongue placed firmly in his cheek.

You rolled your eyes slightly, not enough for him to notice and heard Travis moving softly in the bed. As you checked over your shoulder, Jordan followed your gaze, his demeanour immediately changing.

"Shit. That's fucking...Travis Kelce." Jordan shook his head as a small laugh escaped his lips, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Okay, time to leave."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jordan repeated, his voice louder.

As you pulled the door inwards in an attempt to close it, Jordan struck the surface with his elbow, forcing his way inside. Travis immediately leapt out of the bed, quickly making his way to your rescue. You noticed that he had already put his boxers back on, presumably anticipating his interference.

"Alright, buddy." Travis said calmly, replacing your hand on the door with his own.

Jordan seemed to cower in Travis' presence, shrinking in size figurately and quite literally. His cool and loose physicality switched for stiff and hunched shoulders but his intoxicated brain couldn't stop his mouth.

"Hey. I'm not your buddy." He retorted.

Travis smiled at you before turning back to Jordan, "The lady said no. She would like to leave, so why don't you be on your way."

His stern words sounded more like an order than a question and your heart gently fluttered as you watched your knight in shining armour defending your honour. Your emotions quickly flipped to dread as Jordan puffed his chest up and took a couple of woozy steps towards Travis.

"So, you think you can just muscle your way in, getting her tickets and sending her flowers, why? Because you're famous or something? Look, if you just want to fuck the girl, why are you going through all of this effort? Is she really worth it?"

Your chest quickly stung and a redness was flushing to your cheeks. A part of your brain knew it was the alcohol talking, but it still pained you to hear these words coming from someone who you considered to be a friend.

Suddenly, Jordan's hands were pressed against Travis' solid chest, shoving him slightly backwards.

"Jordan? What are you doing?" You hissed.

Your widened eyes quickly flashed to Travis, who did not seem phased at all. Instead, he simply rubbed his beard down and cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jordan.

"I don't think you've thought this through. You see, you have two options. Either you keep at me and I end up throwing your sorry ass out of this apartment building, possibly ruining any remaining self-respect and friendship with Y/N that you got left." Travis' gruff voice was clear and concise, it was more than enough to turn you on. "Or, you turn away and leave now, deal with a killer of a hangover in the morning and arrange an apology in the way of a delicious meal at a very expensive restaurant for my girl here." He nudged your arm with his as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, you mouth gaping open in absolute awe.

Jordan stayed still, processing Travis' words before his head rolled backwards and a loud sigh left his lips, "Fucking...whatever, bro."

He started to turn away but Travis spoke up with a deep growl, "Hey. I'm not your bro."

Jordan's eyes flashed slightly with fear, before half closing as he stumbled away from you both. You stood in silence as you watched him disappear into the stairwell, the door clanging behind him.

You exhaled loudly, not realising that you had been holding your breath for a significant length of time. You felt as if your legs were about to give up on you, but before they had the chance, Travis' arms were enveloping you and bringing you impossibly close to him.

"Are you okay?" He said into your neck, your hair marginally muffling his words.

Your fingers began to graze the stubble on the back of his head, your face buried in his chest, "Oh yeah, I'm fine. That shit happens all of the time."

Travis pulled you away and held you at an arms length, his eyes lowered in concern, "For real?"

"Travis, I'm joking." You smiled, "Just trying to lighten the mood?" You shrugged your shoulder which were still held firmly in his large hands.

His eyes creased into a smile, "Oh baby, I can think of a better way to do that."

His voice growled again, making your knees weaken as he leaned in to gently place a kiss on you forehead. Your feet were swiftly swept up from underneath you and Travis carried you impressively towards your bedroom, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist. Your surroundings darkened as you entered the bedroom and Travis gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. You bent your knees and straddled his waist, ending up face to face with him.

Your hands moved to cradle the sides of his jaw, "Thank you."

The corners of his full lips barely raised into a smile, but his eyes glittered, "No problem."

You could feel his hands clinging to your back, his fingers tracing circles into the satin fabric that was covering you. A small shiver rolled over your body and you took your bottom lip between your teeth. Travis' eyes flickered to your mouth and his eyebrows raised.

"Did that turn you on?" He said with a surprise.

You rolled your hips a little, "Maybe. I don't know? I just felt...protected."

Travis' mouth moved into a wide grin, as he breathed a laugh, "Hey. I got no issue with that."

______________________________________________________________

As per unusual, I whole-heartedly apologise for the wait on this one. I'm still feeling a little bit of a writing slump and I'm finding everything really hard to get going...I really hope it doesn't show! The next chapter will be the reader going to the Chiefs game and her Dad being absolutely adorable so I am actually looking forward to that one! If anyone has any ideas for this story, please feel free to throw them my way! As always, let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist and any comments or reblogs are always much appreciated!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07 @abby-splace @bobthe-turmpetman29 @cedricbitch @abby-splace @jmamas92 @bellstwd @killatravsworld @marchmaiden @chimchimmarie @blackstabbath6 @fanficfanatic15 @jessiemariebarnes @mmb219 @vanwritesfan-fiction @futebollover @ks-dreams-fantasies @laurenmcucm @blackstabbath6 @nickie-amore @fictionqueen87 @munsonburner666 @hornyavengers @spookystitchery @powellssaturn

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic #kelcemenow requests

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gz-missfit · 9 months

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So I wanna talk about tazercraft cause their characters are so incredibly interesting to me in the best way possible. To preface this I don't speak a word of Portuguese (I'm learning tho! And have been picking up on sentences a lot more) and my native language isn't English so I may get some things wrong and if I do feel free to correct me!

More under the cut:

I'll put this in 3 separate parts, them individually and then their dynamic!

Mike:

Mike is interesting to me, he's definitely the outward instigator of the 2 when it comes to causing trouble and as many have already pointed out the brains behind a lot of it! He's managed to master the create mod in ways I genuinely never expected them to be used and it's a cute way to say that mine (his wife) was also a cause of that as the goddess of creation. To move to his personality more he's definitely the lead talker in the duo, he's a lot more confident in his voice and speaking in comparison to Pac and can often seem like the lead of the duo, tho this is the cause for people missing his weaknesses! Mike is not a fighter, far from that actually, he freezes in danger and fumbles. His hand tremble when he holds a sword and sees mobs closing in and when big threats appear his whole body turns into ice. He gets overstimulated by danger he couldn't prepare for or was the cause of. Just to name 2 examples here, the first is in the dungeon on the day the timer ran out you could hear him panic, he was a lot more shaky and especially his sword being the cause of injuries to his friends is what made that worse, it went so far that he even typed in chat that he was overwhelmed (fun fact to note is that through all of that he basically vanished from pacs pov but I'll get to that). Another example is when the code showed up to him and pac to drop Richas cow head to them, he later on explicitly state having frozen in fear to i think Fit if i remember correctly and even when ttt was typed in the chat and pac had jumped down to follow Richas to make sure he could teleport Mike was again, nowhere to be seen.

His fear of a fight that revolves around his family and death especially is so interesting to me cause it's obvious that a lot of that comes from Richas first death and how he still blames himself for it, the fear of failing his loved ones again being set deep into his bones whenever a danger for their lives comes up. This is why the prison stream actually was even more interesting to me than I initially expected, because his personality in that sense took a complete 180! Now it's been shown time and time again that Mike has an intense distaste of the federation and hasn't been fond of them for a long time, he's incredibly hostile to them and not scared at all when threatened by them to the point where it's a game for him and he's retaliated with threats that could lead to a ban for him multiple times. Before I move on I think the reason as to why this is is because the federation never showed to kill or take lives, I think that's why Mike has a lot more confidence in confronting them rather than things that have shown to be fatal with all intention of killing. Back to the prison though, Mike's personality to threats definitely took a turn in there, from the moment we saw him he looked pissed beyond believe and his tone was always threatening and almost mocking, his mind quickly was set on getting him and pac out as soon as possible and the realization that Walter Bob, someone who both have seen be the first federation worker that showed them kindness and an interest in what they do after willingly showing up for a haircut is what devastated him. Mike sees Walter as a close friend due to that and it showed because as soon as the realization of Walters long term treatment hit him he did everything to protect the worker he maybe met a handful of times, you could see him get more and more agitated the more the guards hit him and ironically enough I think if Walter hadn't been there idk if he would've killed the guard, but he was so set on finally setting Walter free as well as make sure Pac doesn't have to relive the past they shared that he was willing to do everything to get those 3 out and that all is perfectly encapsulated by his behavior once Walter got taken again, Mike wasn't sad or distraught like Pac was, no, he was fucking fuming to the point where he didn't respond to Pac. Ya know, the person he talks to 24/7 and that's attached to his hip to the point where most of their words are shared telepathically above all. It was obvious that he was angry beyond believe and I'm sure he's got a lot more plans up his sleeve now to get revenge. Cause if there's one thing about Mike it's definitely that you do not want him as your enemy. He may be an outwardly social guy who is definitely more focused on making people laugh and showing off the things he and Pac created but he's still a fugitive and would destroy the world for those he holds dear as they help him feel stronger in the moments where fear does get the better of him.

Pac:

Pac is honestly incredibly fascinating just due to how many levels his character has. He's outwardly the person that appears more shy in comparison to Mike and stumbles as well as gets flustered quick. This has also been the main cause of people seeing him as a weaker player (which also got added onto by how during the earlier days he'd be the one to die a lot) which in turn has caused an interesting dynamic between him and a bunch of the others players because he's far from that. Pac is full on the brawns when it comes to situations that mean fighting for someone's life, his brain goes into focus mode once a life is on the line and there's many examples to show that! Which is why I find it so funny that he often gets handed things due to seeming and behaving weaker than he actually is (main example here being etoiles who not only gave him a custom diamond sword early on which Pac has kept to this day but also the Scythe which he nowadays uses as his only weapon).

Now to the examples of how he can very much carry his own weight In fights and how fascinating it is to watch him, the first big show of him effortlessly carrying himself and doing his best to support others was during the timer dungeon, he was at the front with Bad,Etoiles and Cellbit and even when a lot less geared than those 3 with a weapon that did a lot less damage he didn't go down once even tho he wasn't even holding a totem at any point. It's genuinely impressive with how well he carried himself through that and used movement to attack big groups of mobs from behind only to have vanished out of their sight again before they could corner him. The only time he got truly cornered was at a point where even Etoiles had to back up a little and ended up next to him and the way Pac casually mentioned being fine only to instantly jump at the opportunity of humor through small talk sticks in my brain to this day due to him having stayed mainly silent the whole time before that. The 2 other examples are about Richas and how quick Pac is to defend his son, like I mentioned before when the Code showed up to him, Mike and Richas, Pac instantly jumped into aggressive, he wanted to hit it but fell due to underestimating the jump and as soon as he laid eyes in Richas he became Pacs priority sticking to his sons side until he was Tp'd away and only then returning to the Platform. The same thing happened during the dinner! Every parent except for him crashed when the codes revealed themselves and as much as Richas was quick to start running the speed at which Pac laid eyes on the egg and started to follow right next to him was genuinely mind blowing, he stood at that elevator once Richas left ready to die if it came to it just to make sure one of those things didn't follow him, and as soon as Mike relogged he became Pacs priority with the latter hovering around him will he was loading in.

Now to compare this to the behavior in prison is interesting. Pacs still as good as ever when it comes to putting on a persona to get what he wants but I do believe that the prison brought up a lot of trauma for him, from what I know his time in prison was a lot worse than Mike's and you could hear that through his voice throughout the whole stream. Pacs a physical fighter not a mental one. But in the end he still has that survival instinct, he still knows he needs to get out to protect his family and he doesn't want to be separated from his other half and best friend anymore so he plays sly. The way he stole the keys from the guard genuinely is the most slick maneuver ever and his ability to portrait his behavior in an exaggerated way that makes him seem like no threat at all has worked in his favor multiple times during this too. He was definitely suffering through that whole experience but his determination to protect the ones he loved still slipped through, his hesitancy when he called to the guards not to hit his friends only to have his voice go small once he was physically threatened. He's not at all comfortable when he doesn't have anything to fight back with. Pacs underestimated A LOT, he let's himself be pushed around for bits with a smile and definitely enjoys appearing a bit dumber and less skilled than he is just due to the perks of it and not really caring for bragging about fighting skills when he'd rather show off the project he and Mike have spent time on, only those with a keen eye can see how he's got the heart of a fighter (Etoiles being the first to vocally call this out) he's not weak by any means and definitely a lot smarter than he'd ever admit. He'd die to protect his family and the ones he cares about and would never back down if push came to shove for them.

To sum this all up and not make this too long (which it already is pfff) for both of them together their dynamic is very clearly the "do not separate" but funnily enough Mike is the one who definitely leans onto that more. During each fight where he panicked, got overwhelmed and/or froze he was missing from Pacs pov, they were split apart and it was Mike who was terrified of not being able to hold his own, the same happened in the prison just differently. In the prison Mike definitely put on a cold facade but it broke everytime he asked if they could share the same cell, the underlying fear of him having to fight alone lacing his words through moments like that. This doesn't mean that Pac isn't the same tho! He's just less outwardly vocal about it in comparison and shows it more through actions and looks. It was obvious to hear his distress when he called Mike's name in prison but his constant turning around to see where the other is and his hesitancy to go into areas that implied separation are what showed how hes just as scared as Mike is about loosing the other.

To go more into headcanon and theories I'd like to think of the 2 as 2 hearts and a shared soul, their telepathic communication is borderline Canon at this point and it's obvious that the thought or implications of being separated doesn't sit well at all with either of them. Their bodies and life's are separate but they're still connected by a soul. And whether that's shown through jokes like not being able to be in one spot without the other or through genuine things like Mike having to remind Pac that only he can hear him unless he uses his voice or their ability to flawlessly work around the other is up to interpretation of each viewer in my opinion but there's something to be said about the fact that without the other they'd never had the determination or confidence to get out of that prison, that without the other their weaknesses would show a lot more and end up causing a lot bigger of a struggle than they currently are. Without the other they wouldn't feel whole.

#qsmp #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #character analysis #i think #im trying these 2 are so #genuinely interesting to me #in the best way possible #cause at their core they're still silly guy's #long read #text post #void mumbling

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starry-blue-echoes · 1 year

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So I was scrolling through some old messages and found an. Honestly really interesting concept for an AU which I totally forgot about

AU where Holly doesn't call Joseph about the whole “Jotaro’s locked himself in jail” situation

Essentially the idea is that Joot is sitting and vibing in the jail cell just like canon, however this time when Holly shows up take him back home, he ends up noticing things because she’s now alone and his sole focus. Be it because if his own observation skills or because if Star’s incredibly precise vision, he ends up noticing some things

He notices his mother is paler than she usually is, that she’s having a bit of difficulty breathing, that over all she looks weaker and more strained than she usually is

Jotaro may be terrified of hurting his mother. But he’s even more terrified of leaving her alone sick with no one to take care of her, so it’s enough to get him out of the cell and go home.

And then the second they get through the door, she collapses.

Only it’s the evil spirit which catches her, far faster than Jotaro could have. And despite Jotaro’s worst fears of it hurting her.... it doesn’t. Instead, it just carefully cradles her fevered form and gently gives her to him. Jotaro then takes her to her room, lies her down, and starts caring for her best he can with the Possibly-Not-That-Evil Spirit’s help.

The next days rolls around, in which Jotaro skips school to care for his mom....... only for Kakyoin to show up.

There’s a fight, the house gets more than a little damage, Jotaro goes absolutely ballistic when he realizes they’re getting closer to the room his mom is in, and ends up knocking Kakyoin the fuck out. He also takes out the flesh bud because What The Fuck Is That Why Is It In Your Head Why Is It Going Up My Arm-

Fast forward a couple more hours. Kakyoin awakens to being tied up and very beat up in a closet. A few minutes of fumbling and trying to figure out what’s going on and eventually Jotaro opens the door with a “are you feeling less crazy and murderous now or do I have to knock you out again?”

They talk, both get answers about What The Fuck Is Going On, and realize their best bet of saving Holly is to find Dio, and maybe beat him up if necessary. Kakyoin remembers him having an enormous library and a bunch of other Stand Users around, so somebody was bound to know something about Holly’s clearly Stand Given Condition.

So they’re off. Jotaro leaves his mother with some neighbors he knew she liked and with the surprising amount of funds Dio had given Kakyoin, they start their journey.

Fast forward a few more hours..... and Joseph ends up getting a call from the hospital. Those neighbors Jotaro left Holly with? Yeah they were really really concerned about her health so she was brought to a hospital which.... you know what fair. Joseph was one of her emergency contacts, and he puts together the possible Stand Involvement so Avdol comes to.

They go check in with the hospital, Avdol confirms it’s a Stand Thing.... and they also learn that Jotaro had left the jail cell but hasn’t visited his mother since she was admitted. So Joseph and Avdol start head back to the Kujo House, and Joseph is prepared to kick his ass for not visiting his mother, offer a shoulder if the kid’s not visiting because Emotions, or both. Plus he also starts planning on explaining Stands and how killing Dio was the only way to save Holly

What he wasn’t prepared for was to find clear signs of a fight alongside blood, because Jotaro and Kakyoin..... didn’t leave the house in the best shape. Joseph then realizes that Dio got to Jotaro before they did, and now is doubly motivated to go and kick Dio’s ass.

So now we have two groups. Jotaro and Kakyoin(and maybe Polnareff) heading to Egypt at a more leisurely pace while trying to learn as much about Stands as they can along the way, and then Joseph going on an absolute war path with Avdol and Iggy

Bonus points if Joseph keeps using Hermit Purple at the worst possible times and getting Seemingly Not Great photos of Jotaro’s situation, double bonus points if they keep nearly missing each other along the way

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midnight-moth-musings · 4 months

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Unrequited Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, slight John "Soap" Mactavish x reader

Part 1

---

After a restless night of attempting to sleep, I wake up the next morning in a continued state of confusion. I groggily rub at my eyes as I sit up in my bed. I raise my hand to gently trace my fingers over my lips--lips that had felt the warmth of another's just eight hours before and now feel lonely without them. After months of pining for Johnny, my heart now leans in another direction. Simon's words echo through me from the night before. I'd learn everything about you if it meant you'd look at me the way you look at him.

How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed it? I had always brushed off the small glances he'd throw my way during meetings as a sign to pay closer attention to the briefing. I would chalk up the gentle brush of his hand against my waist as he'd pass by me in the kitchen as nothing more than friendly. The way he always had my coffee ready in the morning--hot and made to my liking as if he'd memorized my whole routine.

I quickly stand up from my bed and fumble around my room for a fresh pair of cargo pants and a hoodie. I barely manage to tie the laces of my combat boots before a loud knock echos from my door. My heart skips a beat and a smile spreads across my face as I imagine it's Simon--however I open the door to see Johnny standing outside with a serious expression.

He beams brightly as I step through the doorway. "Hey lass."

"Morning." I murmur. "What are you doing here?"

Johnny's eyes seem to flicker behind me--as if he was expecting another presence in the room. "Well, I saw ye left early last night and I wanted to check up on ye."

"Oh." I lean against my doorframe as I continue staring up at him. "I was a bit tired, so Simon offered to take me back to base." Johnny's gaze darkens for a moment and he scoffs lightly. "What?"

He simply shakes his head and mutters quietly. "Of course he'd offer to take ye back." My mind begins to spin in circles as I try to decipher the implications of his statement.

"What do you mean by that?" My breath catches as Johnny leans closer. My body tenses as he places a hand on my cheek--I can't help but compare the feeling to that of Simon's last night. While about the same size, Johnny's hand is ever so slightly softer. Perhaps the softer sensation of it should feel more welcome against my skin--however it feels...wrong.

He brushes a stray hair behind my ear before answering. "I always knew he fancied ye."

I find myself pulling back from his touch--his words striking a cord within me. "What does it matter to you?" Johnny rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"He's only trying to get under my skin because he knows I fancy ye too." My stomach drops at his admission and my eyes widen.

"Johnny..." He stops me by suddenly leaning forward to press his lips against mine--his hands wrapping around my waist. There have been countless times where I have imagined this exact moment--Johnny kissing me and professing his feelings. I expect my body to erupt in fireworks, to feel butterflies in my stomach, or to even experience a sudden burst of electricity coursing through my veins. However, I find that I feel nothing. No fireworks, or butterflies, or electricity. Nothing.

I pull away from his hold and push him away. Johnny stares back at me in confusion but continues to hold a hand at my waist. "How do I like my coffee?"

He tilts his head for a moment and lets out a laugh. "Why does that matter?" My feelings are only solidified by his response and I shake my head in disbelief.

"If you liked me, why did you spend the night with that blonde from the bar?" I begin to remember the jealousy I had felt last night watching him with another woman.

Johnny's brows furrow as he stutters out a reply. "That? That was just harmless flirting." He smiles brightly and leans closer once more. "C'mon, I know ye fancy me." As Johnny leans forward to press his lips against mine once more, I hear the loud footsteps of another enter the hallway. My head turns quickly and I gasp as I make eye contact with Simon. His brown eyes flash with hurt as he quickly observes the closeness of Johnny and I. Guilt fills my body as my gaze drops to the two mugs of coffee resting in his hands. Johnny turns to flash a smug grin and Simon quickly turns to walk away.

"Simon, wait!" I push Johnny away harshly and take a step away.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls out to me.

I turn back to look at him. "I did have a crush on you, Johnny. But now I realize it was a one-sided infatuation. You don't care about me the way he does. I only wish I saw it sooner..." Johnny simply nods in response and turns to walk away with a frown. I quickly turn on my heels to run down the hallway to find Simon and explain everything. My heart beats rapidly as I realize he is nowhere to be seen. I run back to his room and pray he's inside. I knock at the door rapidly. "Simon?" I repeat his name several times.

The door swings open and I sigh in relief. "What?" The coldness of his voice startles me. I look up to see his eyes are pointedly staring down at the ground--away from me. His balaclava is missing from his face and I can clearly see his frown.

"Johnny kissed me." I breathe out quickly. "He kissed me."

"I saw." He continues to avoid making eye contact and I reach out to grab his hand--tugging at it in frustration.

"You're not listening. He kissed me. He kissed me, and I felt absolutely nothing." Simon's eyes flicker up from the ground to meet my gaze. "When you kissed me last night, I felt things I'd never felt before. I never realized what I wanted all along was standing right in front of me. You're not the second choice, Simon. You're the only choice."

Simon squeezes my hand and I smile in relief. "Is that right love?" He places his other hand on my cheek tenderly. The rough pad of his thumb rubs against my skin and I feel my cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner." I whisper, leaning closer against him.

He shakes his head--eyes crinkling as he smiles down at me. "You don't need to be sorry, love. I knew you'd come 'round eventually." Simon's arms move to pull me closer by my waist and I laugh as he holds me against his chest.

"Mm, you knew it?" I place my hands on his chest and smile widely up at him.

Simon scoffs, squeezing me tightly against his broad form. "Of course." The gap between us closes and I am met with the familiar sensation of his lips against mine. The empty nothing I had felt with Johnny is replaced by the everything I feel with Simon. Fireworks, butterflies, and electricity is not enough to describe it--kissing him feels as if our bodies are two pieces of one puzzle fitting together perfectly. I silently curse myself for being such a fool as to not see it sooner. All I've ever wanted--no, all I've ever needed, was him.

We pull away after a moment and I find him staring down at me with a grin--the pink scars decorating his face twisting into a perfect piece of artwork that would challenge the likes of history's greatest artists. "Join me for breakfast." I nod in agreement and Simon pulls me inside of his room. As he hands me the cup of coffee he had made for me, I find my heart skipping a beat.

Coffee made with a disgusting amount of cream and sugar has never tasted better.

---

-P

#cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x you

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shitouttabuck · 4 months

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ok stay with me here but: (loose) anastasia (1997) au

evan buckley: the missing, presumed dead, youngest child of the beloved/beloathed buckley family, all of whom were murdered when he was a kid—all except his older sister. except he’s alive, with the unfortunate downside of total amnesia, and nothing to tie him to anyone except a broken something that just reads: buck. so buck grows up alone, and it sucks, especially because it’s not all he’s ever known. he might not have his memories but he knows he's known what love is. home, love, family. there was once a time i must’ve had them too. home, love, family. i will never be complete until i find you.

maddie buckley: only daughter of the buckley family, fell in love with a bad man who tried to kill her whole family to get to her. got away and got safe. doesn’t know if doug’s alive. her brother’s probably dead. surviving’s not the same as living, and she’s been doing it for so long. but… have you heard… there’s a rumour in los angeles. she’s got the best and the brightest protecting her, and all that buckley family money. spreading them both thin could mean doug worming his way out of the woodwork but if there’s even a chance evan’s really out there? she’s already decided.

eddie diaz: conman, but more importantly, dad. there was a war, and then another one, and his wife left, and somewhere in there his parents took his kid from him. he does not have the money to fight them with lawyers, but he’s stubborn and not particularly respectful of the law and he’s heard that maddie buckley��s protective service team has means and money that allow for a) duking it out in court with his parents or b) getting his kid back in ways that are more uh legally grey. and it just so happens the rumours are that maddie buckley will do just about anything and pay just about any sum to find her long-lost brother. blond-haired, blue-eyed, missing at age 10—nearly two decades ago. he could look like anyone, now. sure, there’s the distinctive red birthmark over his eyebrow, but makeup and tattooing go a long way these days. oh, and conveniently, his partner in literal crime, however mild, has an old inside link with someone on maddie buckley’s bodyguard team. chim never shuts up about henrietta wilson—hen, he calls her—particularly when eddie’s fumbling a job and having to improvise and he feels the need to point out just how competent his previous partner steadfastly was.

if eddie and chim are holding illicit auditions for evan buckley lookalikes, and this massive beautiful man stumbles in apparently already having gone to the trouble of dressing for the part? who is eddie to look that gift horse in the mouth? the quicker they see this con through, the quicker he’s together with chris again.

except buck thinks eddie really believes he’s maddie buckley’s missing brother, and buck is warm and ridiculous and so genuinely curious about eddie’s own family, on this journey to find his own, and eddie can’t help but share christopher, and buck listens with bright eyes and holds the photographs so carefully in his big hands.

cons are never victimless, and eddie knows getting chris back takes priority over any moral quandary of identity theft here.

but buck asks about chris’s favourite things and stays up late on their crosscountry train to come up with plans for an accessible skateboard for a kid he’s never met. buck tells eddie he wonders if maddie’ll recognise him, and he hopes she does, because he’s never had anyone see him and know him before. buck asks eddie if he thinks they’ll stay friends, once they’re both reunited with their families. it’ll be nice not to have to miss anyone again, he tells eddie one night, quiet. missing who you don’t remember is one thing. missing who you know?

he trails off and falls asleep not long after, but eddie lies awake in the bunk below him for hours. his moral compass has always swung with whatever cognitive dissonance necessary to justify his actions because the final truth is: heart over mind. and chris has always been his whole heart. so falling in love with your mark has got to be the stupidest, most dangerous thing you can do.

even this is okay; he can handle breaking part of his own heart. but he didn’t realise he was holding so much of buck’s too, and now? he doesn’t know that he can survive breaking any of that.

#i rewatched anastasia yesterday after a couple years and uh. came home and wrote this down at 11pm.#it will prob never get written but oh it's so fun to imagine buckanastasia eddiedimitri #nina writes #wip #911 #anyway. best movie in the whole entire world. invented romance #and oh the gender envy of a don bluth leading man........

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elvenbeard · 4 months

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Before it Gets Better

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: Kerry returns home with an unexpected visitor, but what he finds he did not expect. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 12/?, 6748 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

V was ripped from a dreamless sleep, coughing and choking, sputtering a red cloud across his pillow. He scrambled to sit up, his throat tight and scratchy. Fingers clawing into the mattress he tried to take slow, deep breaths to suppress the coughing, but his chest hurt like he‘d been stabbed, his heart was racing. An icepick through his optics would‘ve been more comfortable than the headache leaving his vision blurry and riddled with glitches. Trying to regain his breath, orient himself in the room, all he could make out through the blinding pain were the dark red stains on the bedsheet and pillow, blood trickling down the back of this throat as he continued to gasp for air. Even though he was sitting he could barely keep himself upright, growing increasingly lightheaded.

“Kerry?” he croaked, but no response. Slowly he crawled across Kerry‘s empty side of the bed. Every inch of movement was a challenge. He squinted against the bright golden light of the setting sun reflected in the shiny surfaces of their furniture and walls, his call for Kerry still lingering unanswered, mixed with a hint of iron. Shakily V put his bare feet on the ground, pushed himself upright. Dizzy from pain he stumbled towards the gallery railing for support, fingers almost losing grip on the polished steel right then and there.

“Kerry?” he called again, hot blood streaming across his lips and chin, dripping on his chest and onto the floor.

“Fuck…”

Vik’s injectors… Not that they would help much anymore if he died of a hemorrhage within the next minute.

Just… breathe…

The plastic bag was still on the kitchen counter downstairs, and V cursed himself for not taking it with him earlier. He clung to the rail, peered down into the living room. Nibbles was sleeping on the sofa, but Kerry was nowhere to be seen.

Kerry, fuck… I need you…

Not by choice, but solely because he couldn’t physically move faster without passing out, he dragged himself forward along the cold metal railing, barely able to stand without the support. The whole house spun around V as he shakily walked down the stairs, moving automatically rather than consciously. Step by step, slipping and sliding further. He wasn‘t sure how long it took him, how he even made it all the way… but when he arrived at the foot of the stairs, in his condition, the bag with the injectors might as well have been on the moon. He shivered, heart hammering against his sternum. Once more he hoped that Kerry would appear around the corner any moment, to catch him, guide him the rest of the way… But it seemed that V would have to make it alone somehow if he wanted to make it.

Shakily he let go of the rail, his head pounding, edges of his vision darkening further. He didn’t remember how, but somehow, he crossed the distance, chest harshly slumping against the counter. Briefly he was jolted wide awake enough to slip a finger through the bag‘s loops, but then his legs gave in. He slid to the ground, harshly slamming his knee and elbow on the hardwood flooring. Burning pain shot through his broken wrist, he winced, but instead of groaning or screaming he only coughed and spat out more blood. Dark splotches blurred his vision further, his head grew heavy. Half-blinded he fumbled for the bag by his side, where it had clattered to the ground with him. Fingers locked around a fresh injector. His head fell back onto the hard, cool floor. With his breath rattling, V slammed the piece of plastic, metal, and needles against his bare chest, pressing hard and hoping that, if this did not save him anymore, it would at least ease the pain and just let him drift off into darkness peacefully.

His hand fell to the side, numbing warmth washing over him, rushing to his toes and fingertips, and he heard the faint rumble of the elevator being set in motion just as his vision faded.

“…you fuckin’ do this to me again! V, please, can you hear me?”

Kerry’s voice seemed to come from miles away, but the pain in his words was like a punch in the chest. Or it was the lingering sensation of the injector needle, or both.

“Don’t just fuckin’ stand there like a gonk, make yourself useful! Get me a blanket and, fuck, dunno… do somethin‘!”

V’s eyelids might as well have been glued shut, they were so heavy. He managed to catch only the tiniest glimpse of a figure rushing by behind Kerry. Kerry himself was kneeling right by his side, had one hand under V’s head for support, the other on his chest. V wanted to move or say something, but his body was paralyzed. The meds hadn’t fully kicked in yet, his head was pounding still. He couldn’t have been unconscious for long. That at least was a tiny silver lining.

“Here,” the other person Kerry was ordering around said as he returned, and V recognized his voice as Lee’s now. Kerry took the blanket they kept on the sofa from Lee, not letting go of V’s head though. He carefully, loosely put it over him, tucked it under him as best as he managed, and V noticed his fingers shaking as he brushed against his bare skin.

“Should I… call Trauma Team?” Lee asked quietly.

“This isn’t somethin’ they can help with…” Kerry said hoarsely.

“Oh, okay… Um, should I, dunno…”

“Can you just get the fuck off my back for a sec?” Kerry barked and V heard Lee shuffle away towards the other side of the kitchen. Then a soft touch to his left cheek, a thumb calloused by guitar strings for decades brushing across his cheekbone.

“V?” his voice was so quiet, so brittle compared to just seconds ago.

“Can ya hear me? Can ya… move, gimme a sign?”

It took all his willpower, the little remaining strength still in his body, but V managed only just to crack open his eyes again, and this time Kerry saw it.

“Oh thank fuck… okay, okay…” he sighed with immense relieve, voice shaky. He sunk down until his forehead came to a rest on V’s chest, one hand still at his face, the other searching V’s right hand. Like this he stayed, breathing deeply, holding on to V as if he was the only thing that would keep him afloat, safe from drowning. V wasn’t sure for how long, maybe five, ten minutes, maybe longer, or maybe not all that long. Slowly, surely his senses grew clearer again, and his headache became bearable.

“’n I’m the workaholic, huh?” was the first best thing he managed to utter hoarsely in an attempt to ease the tension. He opened his eyes and instantly met Kerry’s, in the same moment looking up at him. Kerry sat up slowly, his brow was deeply furrowed. Once more he stroked V’s cheek.

“Can you get up? Wanna get you to the sofa, off the floor…” he said, quietly and clearly unsure what to make of V’s remark. V was too weak to explain and also didn‘t want to risk another argument.

“Might need some help…”

“Okay, hold on to me.”

V tried to reach up to put his arm around Kerry’s shoulders, but even that he didn’t manage on his own. How pathetic of an image he must’ve presented. But there was no hint of pity in Kerry’s face, only worry. V grabbed onto Kerry’s jacket as tightly as he could, and despite his muddled state, under his palm he noticed a thin, rough layer of dust clinging to the leather.

Kerry pulled him to his feet, slowly, their movements matching each other as if they’d choreographed this… and in a way they had. V had long lost count of how many times Kerry had pulled him back to his feet again in the last few months. Literally as well as metaphorically.

Yes, Kerry was scared to lose him, he’d made that pretty clear… and at the same time V knew he wouldn’t be here anymore without Kerry, without someone waiting for him at home, putting so much more trust and support into him than he deserved. V was just as scared of going under, losing his rock, his bastion of calm in this storm… but more so because he was slowly but surely eroding him away with a constant stream of worry, stress, and pain.

“Alright, I gotcha,” Kerry whispered with some strain, then carefully but as quickly and directly as he managed guided him over to the couch. V’s steps were still unsure, and he groaned as he sunk onto the seat, clinging to the blanket still loosely wrapped around his shoulders. His muscles were aching and only now he realized that he was shaking, freezing actually.

“I’ll get ya some clothes, just sit tight here for a sec, alright?” Kerry said, pressing a quick kiss on V’s forehead, another stab to his heart, “Need anything else? Painkillers, water?”

“Water sounds good,” V said, words rough and feeling strange in his own mouth.

“Okay,” Kerry briefly squeezed his healthy hand, then straightened up and walked back towards the kitchen.

“Drinking glasses behind you,” he instructed Lee as he passed him by, quickly and vaguely pointing at the cupboards, “Water’s in the fridge.”

Then he jogged upstairs. V slowly, carefully turned his head, trying to process still what had just happened. Then his gaze briefly met with Lee’s, who seemed just as confused. He was standing in the kitchen, staring like a deer in headlights, then quickly turned on the spot and rummaged through their cupboards. A slight thud right next to V drew his attention away from the kitchen for a moment and to Nibbles, who had just jumped on the sofa. She brushed against him, purring loudly, and looked up at him with her huge green eyes.

“Hey girl… what’s goin’ on, huh?” V said weakly, but he was shaking too hard now to reach out and pet her. Even his teeth were chattering… He hadn’t been this miserable earlier at Vik’s. But it was a fierce drug cocktail he’d injected, likely not without its occasional side effects.

The fridge door opened then closed again, and V turned back to Lee as Nibbles got comfortable on the sofa beside him. Even from a distance and even half-blinded by pain still he could see that Lee was shaking too, as he filled the glass almost to the brim. Only reluctantly he walked over to V, keeping the coffee table between them. He sat the glass down and took half a step back again.

“Thanks,” V said quietly, but kept the blanket wrapped around him. Lee avoided to look at him. V could taste the blood on his lips still, feel it pull at the skin around his nose where it dried. He probably looked like absolute shit.

“C’mon, in my state I’m not gonna be able to do anything to you. Even if I wanted to,” he then said, trying to get Lee to relax… not entirely without ulterior motives, because their penthouse was the last place Kerry would bring his manager to without a very good reason. Why was he here? Where had Kerry let‘s-just-spend-the-rest-of-the-day-on-the-sofa Eurodyne disappeared to while V had been asleep?

Lee cleared his throat and shifted slightly where he stood.

“Sit down, you’re makin’ me nervous,” V ordered, and after a moment of hesitation, weighing the pros and cons in his head for sure, Lee sat down on an armchair nearby. They were at eye level now, but Lee still avoided his gaze. But that gave V the chance to get a closer look at him in return. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and what V had mistaken as an unusual hint of stubble at first was dirt along Lee’s jawline and neck. His white leather boots were tinted orange, as were the seams of his sleeves and his knees and shins. Overall, he appeared shaken, more so than usually… And all that, plus the dust on Kerry’s jacket, painted wild scenarios in V’s head that he couldn’t quite place into a bigger context yet.

“Can’t you, like…” Lee mumbled, “With your hacking and such… basically kill people just with your thoughts?”

He then looked up at V wide-eyed, like prey that knew it was going to die but also had no means to get out of its dire situation anymore.

“It’s not quite as simple, but technically… yeah.”

Lee immediately looked back down to his lap, where he had his fingers tightly intertwined, resting on his thighs.

“Do you need to, like…” he then continued to stammer, barely audible, “Look the person in the eyes, or just, roughly know where they are in a room? How does it work?”

V sighed.

“Lee, if I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be sitting here anymore.”

Lee laughed nervously, gulped, and briefly looked up at V, then away again.

Right as V began to wonder where Kerry had disappeared to, he heard him coming back down the stairs. He carried some clothes flung over his left arm, in his right hand he held a clean wet towel. He walked straight past Lee and paid him no mind whatsoever, instead returned his full attention to V. Putting the clothes down on the sofa first, then giving Nibbles a short pat, he eventually knelt down in front of V.

“I thought, maybe clean up a bit first before gettin’ dressed…” he said and held out the towel in an offering manner. V’s eyes had been following Kerry’s movements, only now they found his face again – and he froze when he noticed his eyeliner slightly smudged, his eyelids reddish and a little swollen. Just slightly, and right now he was gently smiling, as if nothing was wrong. But V could tell that he was hurting so much and tried not to let it show, and that in return hurt V to no end. He wondered if it was because Lee was here, or if Kerry felt like he had to be strong for both of them right now.

“Kerry…” V mouthed, his throat too tight to produce sounds. Kerry flashed a short smile, shook his head only just enough so V would see it. Then he carefully dabbed the warm, soaked towel against V’s face to get rid of the blood.

“Gotta get you checked out…” he said overplaying his sadness, the white towel progressively turning redder as he slowly worked away, “By Vik, or better, at the MedCenter. That wasn’t just a lil’ nosebleed.”

V held still, focusing on the warmth of the towel, the movement of Kerry’s eyes, his other hand gently stabilizing V’s head, fingertips caressing his face. And the slight resignation in his voice…

“MedCenter sounds like a plan,” V then said, automatically again almost, causing Kerry to freeze for a moment, stare at him with mild surprise. But then he smiled, more genuinely than before, and continued to gently dab the dried blood.

“Okay, good,” he said, “Want me to give Dr. Fuentes a call before, or…”

“I’ll do it myself,” V promised. Kerry finished by wiping the towel across V’s mouth, then his chest, then leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Not quite good as new, but it’ll do,” he announced, and V laughed weakly. The tension in the air was still tangible though, as Kerry followed V’s gaze back to Lee, who still sat on the chair, hands folded and staring at his feet.

“What’s he doin’ here by the way?” V then asked, no longer able to ignore the elephant in the room, “And where were you?”

Now Kerry avoided to look at him, bit his bottom lip and sighed, but his hands resting on V’s lap now also briefly clenched, curled into fists. He shrugged, and gestured at Lee, who stared at them both with wide eyes first and then over to the elevator. How subtle.

“Dunno, Lee, you wanna explain what happened?” Kerry asked, barely able to mask his annoyance and anger again now.

“Uh…” was all that Lee managed to utter, still petrified.

Kerry cocked his head, and when Lee didn’t manage to rediscover his voice, he turned to look back at V.

“Turns out, this little motherfucker is the one who swapped your pills.”

Lee audibly gasped and jumped up from his chair, hands raised in defense, before V had even fully registered the meaning of Kerry’s words.

“He what…” he said, his pulse gaining speed, then he turned to Lee, “You did what?”

“They… threatened me!” Lee stammered, and if V hadn’t been shaking too much to hold a glass of water, he would’ve long grabbed and punched the shit out of him. But then a shiver ran down his spine, and he turned back to Kerry.

“He tells you he works for Blue-Eyes and your first impulse is to bring him here? Into our home?”

Now Kerry flinched, visibly guilty.

“Hey, listen,” he defended himself, “My first impulse was to leave him to die in the desert – and I’m still tempted to take him back there, if I’m honest with ya.”

“No, please!” Lee whined and both Kerry and V instantly turned to look at him and in unison told him to “Shut up!”

There was a brief pause, their eyes met for a moment, V couldn’t help but grin and noticed Kerry’s cheeky smile as well. But then he turned serious again.

“Fuck it’s… a fuckin’ mess,” Kerry sighed. He got up to sit on the sofa next to V, Nibbles between them, to explain the whole story.

V listened intensely, from Kerry’s discovery on the security footage to paying Lee a visit (admitting his plan wasn’t as well thought-out as he’d liked it to be), down to their conversation in the desert and the return to Charter Hill.

“Dunno I… had a real bad gut feelin’ about just leaving him there,” Kerry said, “He downright admitted to everything, I think if Mr. Bastard figures out he told us…”

V nodded pensively, keeping a close eye on Lee who had sunken back into his chair again, appearing small and lost like a guilty child called to the principal’s office for the first time.

“How did these people get in contact with you for the first time?” he then asked, “And when?”

“It was the same night after I’d signed the contract with Kerry,” Lee said quietly, but without hesitation, and V nodded. That had also been the same day V had been contacted by Mr. B about the Crystal Palace heist.

“Got an unknown number call me, voice distorted, and they had… all this information on me, no idea how they got their hands on it,” Lee explained, “They told me I should get something from an apartment in a Megabuilding, everything would be ready to go as soon as I get there. Or they’d ruin me, if I didn’t do it.”

He looked up at V with watery eyes.

“I didn’t even know it was your place, didn’t even know who you were at the time. Only that you wouldn’t be home, and that I had to find a specific pill bottle. Take one pill, deliver it to a drop point with a specific code. And I thought that would be it.”

“But they came back, I take it, with more demands?” V asked, and Lee just nodded.

“I got to know you a few days later…” he stammered, “And they said, they wouldn’t only ruin my career, they’d put all the blame on me somehow and you’d kill me the second you figure it out.”

V leaned against the sofa’s backrest and closed his eyes for a couple of moments, still tightly wrapped in his blanket. He didn’t know Lee that well yet, but he’d dealt with enough professional liars in his life, and Lee simply didn’t strike him as one. Also, he had nothing to gain from making this up, or at least he also risked his life big time. For what, money? He earned ridiculously well as Kerry’s manager, his life already was more prestigious than those of 90% of NC’s citizens. Also, the details matched up, his fear was real. No matter how much he searched, V couldn’t think of a reason to distrust him, not believe him.

V could feel both Kerry’s and Lee’s eyes linger on him, waiting for him to deliver an answer, a solution that would magically make all their problems disappear. Admittedly, knowing with relative certainty now that neither Vik nor his trusted chemist, nor any other third party out of their reach was responsible for swapping V’s pills, that it had “only” been Lee, was a small relief. One thing to cross off of the to do list that was longer than the lifetime V had left.

But what good was it really to know the truth when in the grand scheme of things V was still dying, Lee had a bright glowing target on his back the moment he walked out the front door, and Mr. B’s true intentions were still unclear… and V and Kerry were continuously delivering him reasons now to silence them as well. He had put a certain amount of trust in them by inviting them to the lab, showing them his tech, and they’d declined to work with him – or rather, V had declined, Kerry had at least tried to convince him to reconsider.

Either way though, they were in the process of figuring out more and more of Mr. B’s secrets, and V was certain this man had his means and ways to stay in the loop on what they were up to. Whatever had been in these pills, V wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. B would notice if he no longer took them, at the very latest when Lee – or someone new – was tasked to swap them out the next time.

The hamster is running in his wheel again. Has he ever left it, I wonder…

“I need fresh air,” V just said and shakily good up from the sofa, Kerry jumping to his side instantly.

“Woah, careful,” he said, hand on V’s back.

“I’m good, really,” he replied, and quickly squeezed Kerry’s hand. He slid the blanket off his shoulders, let it drop to the floor, then grabbed the comfortable jogging pants and t-shirt Kerry had brought him earlier. From the corner of his eye he noticed Lee staring, then getting flustered and averting his gaze. V could almost feel the daggers shooting from Kerry’s eyes behind him, even if he said nothing, and V grinned.

He pulled the t-shirt over his head, then turned around. Since he had to pass Lee on the way to the balcony anyway, he made a point of walking up to him slowly, then he stopped right by his side. Lee froze, then sheepishly looked up at him. V waited, looked him in the eyes… and then grabbed his jaw as hard as he could, leaving Lee wincing and gasping.

“Don’t ever try to fuck with me or Kerry again, or I swear, you’re gonna wish he’d shot you in the desert,” V threatened, his voice calm but cutting as sharp and deep as the finest katana rolling from an Arasaka assembly line.

Lee stared at him wide-eyed, and when V let go of his face again, he just nodded firmly. Then V slowly continued his walk to the glass sliding door connecting the kitchen to the outside world.

With each step onto the balcony he took another deep breath as Night City was slowly engulfed by darkness… But simultaneously somehow it came back to life in a rainbow of a million neon lights. V stopped at the railing, still somewhat lightheaded, and just listened to the pulsating heart of the city for a few moments, taking in the smells and sights, as if he’d awoken from a too long sleep as well.

He rested his arms on the metal bar and let his head fall forward. He could still sense the strain of his headache, his arm and knee hurt from his fall.

Next one might kill ya for good, just sayin’. You gotta get your ass up and do somethin’.

The echo of Johnny’s voice lingered in his ears again, and V wasn’t surprised. It was almost as bad again as it had been that day Johnny took control and dragged him to the Pistis Sofia. V had been so angry, so scared, and even in hindsight still felt betrayed, no matter that Johnny had acted in his – their – own best interest. Sometimes he wondered, even though he was gone, somewhere behind the Blackwall now, if a piece of his mind didn’t maybe remain in V’s brain after all somehow. He still had many of Johnny’s more vivid memories, because they were V’s now as much as they’d been his first. Why not part of his personality as well, seeped from the Relic into the fibre of his being where not even Soulkiller could reach it? The thought terrified him, that the reason he was dying wasn’t even just his body not accepting his own personality anymore, but rather part of Johnny still being here and actively – even if unwillingly – fighting back against V too.

V, you gotta do somethin’. Promise, this isn’t one of those things that’s gotta get worse before it gets better.

“Fuck…”

V opened his eyes. He was sick to his stomach and needed another couple of minutes of just breathing in the cool evening air slowly and steadily for the nausea to fade to bearable levels. Only then he pulled up Dr. Fuentes number on the holo. In the corner of the interface the time read 6.56 pm, so not awfully late for a spontaneous call, he hoped. He took another deep breath, then it started ringing.

“Fuentes?” was the firm response on the other end of the line just a few seconds later. But V hesitated.

“Hello?” Fuentes asked after a short pause.

Only the memory of Kerry’s teary eyes managed to remove the knot from his tongue.

“This is V,” he said briefly, not really sure how to even start, “I… wanted to apologize for turning your offer down so harshly the other day.”

Now Fuentes remained silent. Her holocall avatar was a plain logo of the Little China MedCenter with her name beneath it, “Dr. Isabella Fuentes” in sleek letters.

“No need to apologize,” she then said, voice calm and professional, “I take it, you’ve reconsidered?”

“Why else would I be calling, right?” V grinned, trying to play it cool after his initial hesitation.

“I’ve thought things through,” he continued, “Examined a few other options and… I think it’s best to at least explore all possible paths before making a final decision.”

She didn’t need to know about Blue-Eyes, at least not yet and not over the holo. Despite the secure connection, having Lee sitting just a few yards away behind him, made it hard for V to speak openly. Also, he still waited on Nyx’ background check of the doctor. Apart from that, she also didn’t need to know that he was growing desperate. Despair quickly attracted all sorts of favours and demands that weren’t part of original bargains in this city.

“A wise decision,” she said then, and once again, a shiver ran down V’s spine as if he’d just walked right into a trap, “Let me check my calendar… You’re scheduled for the cast removal on Friday. Would that be alright, or do you want to come in sooner?”

V paused once more. Viktor’s injectors would last him until Thursday at most, at this rate probably not as long. Hopefully AJ would have the next pill batch ready before that happened. Right now, he might still have remnants of Mr. B’s fake pills in his body that Fuentes could have a look at, too.

“Would tomorrow work?” he asked, and Fuentes hummed.

“Let me see… I can definitely move some appointments around. Why don’t you come in at… 10 am? And I’ll see what I can do for you, get things moving at the very least.”

“Alright,” V nodded, and his stomach slightly turned again.

“Alright,” Fuentes repeated, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

He hung up and returned to trying to breathe deeply, rubbing his forehead with his healthy hand. He stood in silence, in the fresh breeze for a little while longer, until eventually the door slid open behind him. Familiar hands found his sore shoulders, rubbed his back.

“Ain’t ya gettin’ cold?” Kerry asked quietly, pressing his lips against V’s left shoulder blade as his arms wrapped around his waist. V shook his head.

“Got an appointment with Fuentes tomorrow mornin’,” he announced, “Can you drive me? Otherwise, I’ll just call Del.”

“No, of course I’ll drive ya. Hell, I’ll come with ya,” Kerry said.

“It’s fine, don’t have to,” V shook his head, “Been driving me around all day today, and yesterday… I bet the studio’s been breathin’ down your neck the whole time.”

Kerry’s silence and slightly tightening grip was answer enough.

“But you hate doctors and hospitals,” he then mumbled against his shoulder, and V chuckled, putting his hand on Kerry’s.

“But,” he countered, “I’m also a big boy already. I’ll manage on my own this once.”

Kerry squeezed him once more, then slowly let go to lean on the rail beside him. He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one up, his own way of “catching some fresh air” V mused. They stood in silence side by side for a few moments, admiring the glowing cityscape.

“Y’know,” V then said, “I’m really damn proud of you.”

Kerry laughed briefly and flicked some cigarette ash into the air.

“Yeah?”

V nodded.

“How you figured out that it was Lee… couldn’t have done that better myself.”

“Got yourself a man of many talents,” Kerry smiled, taking another drag.

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but really, Kerry, you give yourself too little credit,” V insisted, “Couldn’t do any of this without ya.”

V turned to look at Kerry, but Kerry didn’t reciprocate his gaze, instead stared off into the distance. He seemed to want to respond in a cheeky way, something like “yeah, of course you couldn’t”, but he wasn’t able to bring himself to it. In the end, he just smiled, flicked away what was left of his cigarette, then looked up at V finally with his big blue eyes.

“I know you’re carrying big enough burdens and responsibilities without me already,” V said quietly.

“V, you’re not – …”

“I’m not a burden, I know,” V interrupted him, “I’m just sayin’… Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. Neither of us has to carry all the weight all the time. We can take turns, share the load.”

Once again, Kerry seemed to want to say something, although this time V had a harder time guessing what it may have been. Instead, after a couple of moments, he changed the topic.

“I was hopin’… you’d have an idea about what to do with Lee.”

V looked over his shoulder. Inside, Lee was still sitting on the armchair in the living room, head hung low.

“You really think he’s in immediate danger?” V asked, but Kerry almost instantly shrugged.

“It’s less knowin’, more a feelin’,” he said, “Based on livin’ in this city for longer than most people, mostly.”

V nodded. Kerry’s life experience wasn’t to be underestimated. Even if he’d never been a true part of Night City’s underworld, he’s lived alongside it long enough, dealt with enough shady crooks, crazy fans, and dubious corpos to have a deeper insight into human nature and this city’s inner workings than most.

“Also… dunno, it could be nothin’. Just my own paranoia,” he then added, and V perked up, “There was this black van just outside the studio, right when we left to come back ‘ere.”

“A black van?”

“Yeah… pretty non-descript, just… black.”

“Did you see the model, or brand?” V’s thoughts were racing, drifting back to the high-speed chase of the black Ragnar on behalf of the Peralezes. His first contact with Mr. Blue-Eyes’ organization, even when he wasn’t aware of it yet at the time. A black, non-descript car, not quite a van, but…

“I think it was a Columbus,” Kerry said, and V frowned, “Like… 80% sure. Not brand-new, but also not one of the older models that still pop up now and then. Fuck, Nance once organized one of those for a tour, lemme tell ya, was tired of the thing the moment I got in. Flimsy doors, too narrow really to get anything in and out that was bigger than a person… And fuck, it stank.”

V hummed.

“Odd for that corner of Charter Hill, too,” he said after a couple of moments, “In broad daylight and all.”

Kerry nodded. V knew Charter Hill well, he knew the street the studio was on, and really, black, non-descript vans stood out. It wasn’t exactly an area with a lot of big families that might get use of a car like that, neither an overly commercial area with a lot of delivery vehicles… And those were branded or parked in the back of the fancy stores they delivered to. Maybe it was a vehicle of Mr. B, or maybe that of a bad private investigator who hadn’t done their research on the area and just brought the usual inconspicuous car… Or a dozen other possibilities. If it was enough to worry Kerry though, he would treat it seriously.

“Alright,” V said and pulled up his holo again, “Better safe than sorry. Imma call Emmerick, arrange some security for Lee – and for you, on that matter – ‘til we know more.”

“Ah, c’mon, V, I’m safe here, and at the studio… and everywhere else I’ll be with ya anyway.”

“I’ll sleep better if I know there’s a couple more eyes on you than just mine,” V said and called up Emmerick to set everything in motion – and to remove Lee from their house as quickly as possible.

Less than half an hour later the doorbell rang, and Lee was picked up by two trustful mercs who specialized in personal protection. He was visibly reluctant about leaving with them, but in the end, V would’ve left him no choice but either go on his own or at least accompanied by well-paid professionals.

“You’re gonna pay us back for this,” Kerry said as Lee already had one foot in the elevator, “Not just the huscle, everythin’. Big time.”

His jaw slightly red still from where V had grabbed him, Lee just nodded in resignation before the elevator doors closed between them.

A huge weight was lifted off of V’s chest, and he leaned against Kerry, who put his arms back around him.

“What a day, huh?” he said quietly, gently rubbing V’s back in small circles.

“Hopin’ tomorrow will be better,” V nodded with his eyes closed, forehead resting on Kerry’s shoulder.

They remind like that for a couple of moments, then V stood up straight again to look at Kerry. Meanwhile it was almost eight.

“Whaddaya say… pizza, popcorn, and movie night?” he suggested. Kerry squinted slightly, in disbelief almost. But then he also began to smile and nodded. V reached up to brush his fingers through Kerry’s ridiculously soft hair, then scratched his beard, and Kerry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Like a cat, V thought, and chuckled. Simultaneously, he placed an order at their favourite pizza place over his holo.

“You’re all dusty still,” he mused quietly, “And I bet I look like a mess, too.”

Kerry didn’t even open his eyes.

“You’re particularly handsome when you look like a mess...”

V snorted and kissed him softly.

“I’m still kinda cold though, too. I’ll hop in the shower real quick. Wanna join while we wait for the food?”

Kerry grinned.

“Be there in a sec, I’ll just finally put my jacket and… stuff away.”

V had noticed Kerry still had his gun in his pocket the whole time Lee was there. He had been wondering if he’d kept it on him on purpose.

“Okay, but don’t make me wait too long,” V teased, giving Kerry’s jaw a quick squeeze the same way he’d done it to Lee, and Kerry bit his lip.

“I would never,” he purred, then they slowly moved away from each other. V began to head upstairs, clinging to the railing, the exertion really making him feel his earlier attacks now. Halfway up the stairs he actually had to pause for a moment to catch his breath. Then his gaze fell to his feet, and between them on the steps the dark red dried bloodstains he’d left here earlier still marked the floor.

He cursed between his teeth, froze for a moment, as his eyes wandered further up the steps where the blood trail continued. Then he looked down behind him, could see the stains still where he’d laid on the floor in the kitchen.

Slowly he made it the rest of the way up the stairs, behind him on the ground floor the door to the armory opened and closed a second time. Kerry caught up to him at the top of the stairs where once more V couldn’t continue moving. He could feel Kerry follow his gaze to their bed, where the pillows and blanket looked like a dark red can of spray paint had exploded. Even the wall had tiny stains.

V turned to look at Kerry, whose cheeky grin had disappeared, replaced by distress he didn’t manage or want to hide this time. Neither of them said a word until eventually Kerry just dragged V to the bathroom with him.

“I’ll call someone to clean up tomorrow when we’re outta the house,” he said, “Can sleep downstairs tonight.”

V just nodded and wordlessly followed Kerry. Any spark of romance was gone, not even the hot shower water raining down on them helped. But actually, just holding each other and existing in this peaceful moment together was what they both needed more now than a quickie, V realized. He clung to Kerry, and Kerry clung to him, and neither said a word. They just understood that all that mattered right now was that they still had each other after a day full of arguments and unpleasant surprises, with only little glimmers of hope between.

“I thought you were dead,” Kerry eventually broke the silence, voice barely louder than the rushing water, finally addressing what both of them had had on their mind the whole evening. He had his face buried against the side of V’s neck, and V stroked the back of Kerry’s head, scratching and caressing the short grey hair there. He couldn’t say anything in response, could barely imagine the horror Kerry must’ve felt, walking into the kitchen and seeing his legs and a trail of blood behind the counter first thing. V had stumbled into murder and violent crime scenes that had been less bloody than the state of their bedroom right now.

“I’m here though,” he then said quietly, “I’m so… fucking sorry, to put you through this, but I’m here. And I hope I can make up for it somehow, in... in the future.”

He almost said, “in the end”, but no. He didn’t want to think of things ending anymore, but of continuing, of something, some kind of future to look forward to.

“V…” was all that Kerry managed before he almost collapsed against him and just began to cry against V’s shoulder. It started as just one, two big sobs, but then he couldn’t hold back anymore. V clung to Kerry, soothing, whispering into his ear that they’d find a way, somehow.

“And if I have to burn the whole damn city down, I’ll fight like hell to get better. Be with you. Never leave you again.”

Like this they stood, holding on, until all the tears they were still capable of crying had been washed away and down the drain with the dirt and blood and dust.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

The mood of this chapter was: Lie down. Try not to cry. Cry a lot.

I always struggle a bit with transitional chapters, but this here finally ties off the "who switched the pills" plotline and V moves away from focusing on Mr. B as much (at least for now). I've been struggling a bit with putting it all together, but I'm ready now to move forward XD Next time Dr. Fuentes will make a return and I'm scared and excited to introduce you to her plans for V 👀 To recap the timeline a little bit, the day before all this happened, V was introduced to Mr. B's "cure" of his problems, and just a couple of days earlier he returned from the Crystal Palace and had his car accident. Busy af weekend really xD

Also yes, this is not the last you'll have heard of Lee, promise! He will have to pay for what he did, even if he was somewhat forced 👀

Requested Fic Update Tags:

@humberg @r3d-f0xs-blog @thatinternetwanderer @localtranspigeon @taiyo-yokai @kharonion @genocidalfetus @seeker-of-truth @readalotbook @losttr3asur3 @chromeaholic💜

If you’d also like to get tagged when I post a new chapter for this fic, leave a reply on [this post] or send me a DM!

If you do not want to receive further notifications, shoot me a quick DM and I’ll take you off the list again!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 fanfiction #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #love is stored in the olive jar

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snail-eggs · 2 months

Text

1.1 Saturday | film

synopsis: It hurts. 2,191 days later and it still hurts. Juno Connors is haunted by the death of her best friend. Haunted by the unfinished documentary Juno refuses to let die along with him. But it has proved difficult. The subject---washed-up skating legend, Ronnie Allen; her best friend’s childhood hero who suddenly went missing sometime in the early 90s---is less than cooperative. She spends months in London trying to get him to cooperate and she gets nothing for it in return. Nothing of value, nothing to make all the dollars and time spent worth it. Until she meets a young sergeant, that is. Juno meets Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick and sets herself on a course for healing through this newfound intimacy. It makes her think that, just maybe, she can finish this fucking documentary and never have to face Ronnie Allen again.

a/n: my god, there's no way it took me a year to polish this one chapter. anyway, here it is over 365 days later.

The air in Carlsbad is different. Tinged with a saltiness from the sea that Juno can taste on her lips, the breeze at the perfect speed, perfect temperature. She knocks on the rickety old trailer’s door, wishing that she had taken a fleeting moment to film this. This beach—it's gorgeous. Tucked away into its own lonesome corner with a view to die for. Given the chance, Juno’d retire off to here too. She sighs. Bites her lip.

It shouldn’t be her that’s doing this,

She’s staring out at the waves lapping at the shore, a half step off the trailer’s poor excuse for a porch, listening to the way they crash against the rocks and land. She doesn’t deserve to be here, in his place. The door swings open with a creak so loud, she swears it's about to fall off its hinges. Actually, the hinges themselves look more ready to fall off the frame than anything. Charming, she thinks. Gives the whole thing some real character—

“You lost?” —like it needs any more.

Before her, Ralph DiMaggio stands in all his leathery, sun bleached glory. But burgeoning against his loud button up. But he looks at her softly—kindly, cutting through the rough image she had about him entirely and she can see it in his eyes, in his slight smile with a missing canine. He looks happy. Sober. Completely unlike how Fish described him in the notes he left. Juno feels half bad for expecting to find him at the bottom of a bottle, a mess.

“No, you’re exactly who I’m looking for.” She finally takes that full step up to the trailer, extends her hand. He takes it. “My name is Juno Connors—you met my partner, Hayden Fisher, like around a year ago.” Eyes empty, searching for something in the recesses of his mind, Juno can tell he doesn’t remember Fish. It hurts a little. “For the Ronnie Allen doc…” Now she’s searching too— reaching , hoping that he remembers. “He was, uh, a little obsessive about wanting to… to solve Ronnie’s disappearance from, well, the public and then probably never called you back?” She’s fumbling now. Feels like a fucking idiot.

And then it clicks.

“Yeah,” he moves out of the way, gestures for her to come in, “Yeah, no, I remember him, Kid was a lot.”

Juno laughs—well, breathes out a laugh more so than actually laughing. He’s right, he was a lot. Too much, even. She gets it, really, she does. No one could ever entirely stomach him quite like her. Supposes she’s just adept at tolerating the intolerable.

“Why didn’t he ever call back?”

“Thing is, he was going to but he died back in March, so.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gives a shrug that feels all sorts of wrong. “Yeah,”

Reaching into her bag, she flashes him a tight-lipped smile. Her way of saying It’s okay because she doesn’t really know how else to without making it worse, the awkwardness, or sounding like more of an idiot than she already does. Because she’s faced it now: Juno’s blowing this interview and it hasn’t even started. This isn’t her beat, isn’t what she does. No, her job was to sit there and point the camera at someone while Fish did all the heavy lifting. All the talking, But Fish is gone now and there’s still lifting to be done.

The lavalier mic is heavy in her hand, heavier than she knows it really is. She gestures vaguely with it. “I’m here now. For that interview—only if you want to, obviously.”

“Gotta be a little more assertive than that, Junie. A lot more.” He says suddenly like he’s known her forever. Her brows furrow. “Be a bitch, it's the only way you’ll get what you want from old pieces of shit like me.” Ralph eases himself into a chair that groans under his weight, points his finger at her. “That’s a fact.”

“If that’s the case, is this old piece of shit gonna give me what I want or did I drive all the way down here for you to waste my time?” Juno cocks her head to the side. If assertive is what he wants, it's assertive that he’ll get.

Ralph spreads his arms out, smiles wide—proud—missing tooth and all. “Mic me, Junie.” She can’t help it, she smiles too.

And she does—has him clip the recorder to his waistband right on the small of his back as she loops the microphone on its wire wire through the inside of his shirt shirt and settles it on the collar. The camera comes to her like second nature; the setting up of it is a process that doesn’t take all that much thought. Ralph watches her and she doesn’t give him so much as a glance. In her periphery, he’s merely a skin colored blob. She pretends it's Fish sitting there instead as she screws the camera onto the tripod as tight as it goes. It's locked. Ralph shifts around in his seat like he’s never been interviewed before. Juno suddenly realizes that it's probably been forever since the last time. Makes her feel a little better about her uselessness.

The journal is the last piece. One she has to cross the room for—left it on Ralph’s kitchen counter before she mic’d him—her strides and the weight of her warping the vinyl flooring. It burns her hands when she grabs it. Impossible, she knows, but it burns them. With grief, with the corrosive acidity of expectations not met and even worse, expectations she’s not sure she can meet at all.

But she has to try, that’s what this is all about. She looks back at Ralph. Relaxes her shoulders.

“So, what do you know about Ronnie Allen?”

He nearly hits her twice.

Wild, drunk hands wave around mere inches from her camera. From her face. Juno is sick of looking at him. At that ugly mug of his, at the tattoos that have bled deep into every wrinkle and crevice of it. Like runny ink on shitty paper. She looks at him with loathing. Juno’s sick of London now too. She sets her camera on the bar, takes a lazy sip of her beer, and just looks at him. He’s all washed-up. Fucking pathetic now. He’s nothing. He stares back at Juno, like maybe she’s a little off, when she sets down the camera. His wild hands fall into his lap, his story stops.

The rim of the bottle is still at her lips, “Ron, that’s not what I asked you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t ask you about the fucking glory days,” she’s heard enough about the glory days to last a lifetime, “I asked you about what happened after.”

He squeezes his eyes shut real tight, “After?” How he manages to slur just a single word so monumentally, Juno doesn’t know.

“Yeah, Ronnie, after .” It’s still not clicking. “Jesus, Ron—I asked about Merced.” The location rolls off her tongue but it's Ronnie’s face that twists into one of disgust. She can’t seem to break him. It feels like pulling teeth, trying to get him to talk about Merced.

She doesn’t want to feel this way. Not tonight.

Juno’s sick of it all. The poking, the prodding, when she knows—deep down inside, she knows —that he won’t talk. He’s a stubborn old fuck. Ronnie will keep her in the dark until she gives up because that’s exactly what he wants. He wants her to run home with her tail between her legs but she won’t. She cannot and will not let Fish’s life’s work collapse in on itself over a lousy drunk. She doesn’t care that the drunk in question was his hero once upon a time. He’s nothing to her and nothing he’ll stay if he can’t give her what she fucking needs.

It’s been six years that she’s wasted on this. What’s six more?

“You’re still chasin’ this shit,”

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either.” Juno doesn’t like the way her voice sounds. It’s quiet, comes from deep in her throat, all tired and flat. This isn’t her. But maybe it is now. After Fish, after all this mess, maybe this is who she is.

Fingers twitching around the neck of her bottle, gripping it just a little too tight, Juno looks out over Ronnie’s shoulder. Out at the other patrons of the bar that are surely having a far better night than she is. And then she feels it. The burning of eyes fixated on her. Juno’s own scan the crowd again more carefully now.

“When’re you just gonna quit?” She doesn’t hear it, not really. All her attention’s focused on the other lonely soul across the bar. The bill of his cap casts a shadow over his eyes but Juno knows, without a doubt that he’s looking at her. Staring. So she stares back. Narrows her eyes a little—hoping that if she squints hard enough, she can bend all laws of reality and really see him.

But she can’t. So she inches away from the bar, breaks his gaze for just a second to tell Ronnie plainly, and maybe even a little too loudly that “If anything happens to this camera, I’m never leaving you alone, got it?” And he shrugs. Waves it off like he does with everything else that she says. But he reaches his arm out to where Juno was sitting. Lazily slides the camera into his chest like he’s protecting it in his own half-assed way. Juno doesn’t hover.

Stands of fading blue fall into her face as she wades through the crowd that feels like its only getting denser by the second. She doesn’t bother to tuck them out of the way. Just keeps making her way through. When the crowd breaks, the air feels lighter, cooler; her lungs have room to expand.

And, finally, she can see the eyes that gazed upon her from across the bar.

“You have a staring problem,” there’s a grin there. The most genuine one that’s graced her face in, hell, six years, probably.

“You came all this way to tell me that?”

She shrugs, “And a couple other things.” Juno sits down right across from him. Feels kind of giddy talking to someone new, kiddy like knowing without any real proof that you’ve met someone good. Someone solid. “So, do you always look at random women like that or should I feel special?”

He, whoever he is, smirks a little. Juno can tell he’s trying to fight it but it comes through anyway. “Like what?” He's handsome. Soft behind the eyes.

“Y’know,” she leans into the table, smile reaching her eyes now despite the subtleness of it. “Like there’s no one else here but me. Like I’m the only one worth talking to—and I am, by the way. I am so worth talking to.”

“Can’t have much of a conversation if I don’t even know your name.”

“Well, who said that?”

Words catch in his throat a little and Juno smirks. Bottom lip caught in her teeth. Just tell me your name.”

“Juno.” Said so quick she’s barely even sure he heard it.

“Like the movie?”

She gives him a look. It’s a yes and no answer—more no than yes. “Just the way it’s spelled. They named me after the place in Alaska, just wanted to feel special, I guess.”

“It suits you,” they haven’t broken each other’s gaze. Not once and Juno feels like she’s drowning in the particular shade of brown of his irises.

“I’d hope so, it’s the only name I got.” There’s more of a twang there than she’d like. She wonders if he’d be able to place it, her accent. Knows there’s no way in hell she could place his no matter how hard she tried. “What about you; what’d you get saddled with?”

“Kyle,” Juno nods. Her own silent way of telling him that she thinks his name suits him too. “Most people call me Gaz, though.”

“Why?”

“Haven’t got a clue.” He takes a sip from his glass. Juno wants to reach out and grab it. Take a sip from it too. The impulse is so strong and she’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it's one of those weird intrusive things. Or maybe, it's her desire for closeness that hasn’t been sated in years. Hell, she can’t remember the last time she hugged somebody—really hugged somebody; fingers gripping at clothes, digging into skin, a mouthful of hair. All that. The closest she’s gotten is hauling Ronnie into bed when he’s too wasted to do it himself. And sometimes she lingers. Lets him keep his grip on her wrist while he begs her for a glass of water. She supposes that she likes the warmth.

Oftentimes, she wonders what it’s like to be held. In all honesty, Juno’s forgotten it and so now she looks at Gaz, a stranger she’s shared but a handful of words with, and—more than anything—just wants a hug. Is that so much to ask for; to be held for even a fraction of a second?

She needs to go home, she thinks. Desperation’s not all that good of a look on her.

Gaz’s eyes narrow in on her in a way she can’t quite read. The feeling of his gaze is sharper. Precise. Juno feels naked. Feels like he can read her mind. But it softens and suddenly she can breathe. He nods at her, lowers his glass. “What’s that about?”

And her brows furrow before he points at her shirt. Juno looks down. Lindsay Lohan’s mugshot is decorating her torso and she breathes out a laugh. He laughs with her.

“What, you don’t like it?” She teases.

“Never said that .”

“You could wear it if you want—actually, we might be the same size.”

“Yeah?” Juno nods when he says it, smiling so wide that her cheeks are starting to hurt. “I mean, we could test out that theory.”

The chatter from the crowd behind her is getting louder. Bar stools scrape against the ground with an ear shattering screech. Juno shrugs, smirking a little, “I’m down if you are.”

Then, a resounding crack.

Juno and Gaz both whip their heads in the direction of the bar. Juno’s mouth gapes as she watches the bartender clutch his nose. Sees the blood on Ronnie’s fist. Her heart pounds. He can’t get can’t get caught up like this, he can’t afford it— she can’t afford it. Juno lurches from her chair, toppling it over as Gaz calls her name. She shoves and elbows her way through the crowd now surrounding Ronnie and grabs him roughly by the arm. Drags him with all her might and it doesn’t take much. He’s already long gone—the lights are on and no one’s home. So he stumbles on after her.

Juno doesn’t even get to spare Gaz a glance as she and Ronnie barrel through the door.

The mini-bar in this hotel is piss-poor, Juno thinks as she lines up the third tiny bottle of vodka on the windowsill. Really. She’s had better liquor from forgotten bottles in the back of Ronnie’s cabinets. Maybe he just has better taste than the hotel staff. Juno doesn’t really care either way. Her night’s over before it even started and she wishes she’d gone home with Gaz. He was cute, nice enough. Would’ve been a fun time, she bets, but instead she’s stuck here in her room emptying the mini-bar and wondering if this is just some ugly habit she picked up from six years and counting with Ronnie. Day in and day out. She grimaces. Takes another tiny bottle and sits on the bed.

She’s got more notes for this documentary than Fish ever had. It gives her a pang in the chest, the thought. Makes her eyes water. She breaks the seal on the bottle. The transcript for Ralph’s interview haunts her on her desktop, among others. Juno goes for her browser instead. Her fingers work quicker than her mind—she’s looking at departing flights before she knows it.

There’s a few she can catch before Ronnie wakes up in the morning and calls her asking why his knuckles are all bloody.

It isn’t the first time that she’s thought maybe she’s gotten all that she ever will out of him. Even figured out how to wrap this doc up in a pretty little bow without knowing shit about the why of it all. Ronnie Allen, ex skating legend, is a good for nothing drunk that fell into obscurity because he felt like it. There is no real reason, no meaningful moment that made him run from everything he had. He’s a good for nothing dunk that abandoned everyone he knew and seems to feel just fine about it. Sure, it’s bleak but people’d eat that shit up. She knows she would.

Fish wouldn’t, though.

He always wanted to look deeper than the other documentarians, it’s why he started this one. He’d lose his mind if he found out she ditched it before seeing it through completely.

Juno downs the fourth bottle in one go. Her throat burns.

When she wakes, there’s hair all in her mouth. The room smells overwhelmingly like Fish’s living room. Juno buries her head in the sheets and refuses to breathe.

#carrie.fics #call of duty fanfic #kyle gaz garrick x oc #gaz garrick x oc #gaz fanfic #modern warfare x oc #gaz x oc #modern warfare fanfic #fic: film

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lady-pug · 3 months

Text

if we could wake up

Chapter I of Wouldn't It Be Nice

Summary: You sustain a head injury while on a mission but Whiskey isn’t fast enough to administer the alpha gel, so your memories of your time at Statesman don’t come back. Instead, you only remember up until the day before you were recruited and your memory ends up being reset every night. Jack makes it his mission to make you fall in love with him everyday (50 First Dates AU)

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Word count: 1,1k

Warnings: major head injury (bullet to the head, but it's reversed using Statesman technology), memory loss

Notes: Hello dearest readers, it is I. I bring thee something that has been sitting among my WIPs for over two (I kid you not) whole years. I’ve had chapters one and two of this story completely ready stored in my files alongside all my other WIPs and simply never remembered to publish it FOR OVER TWO YEARS! Shame on me, wtf. Which makes me quite sad because it was one of my favorites to work on when I first came up with this idea. But anyways here it is.

I distinctly remember having come up with the idea for this after watching ‘50 First Dates’ four times in the same week (if it wasn’t clear by now this is my all time favorite rom-com) and thinking it fit right up with this cowboy right here.

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this story, and if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bullets were flying, coming from everywhere. Whiskey could barely look over the cover he was hiding behind before someone was shooting at him.

“Ginger!” he screamed into the earpiece “Cider’s down!”

“What happened?” he heard the static voice of Agent Ginger Ale, or as her friends liked to call her, Elizabeth or Liz, over the comms.

“Dunno. Some goons are shooting at us. She just went down.” he ducked again after failing to locate his partner “Can’t even find her. Probably shot at.”

“Get to her immediately. If she got hit in the head you need to administer the alpha gel as soon as possible!”

“I’m trying here, Ging! Ain’t as easy with twenty guys aiming at your head.”

“Use one of those stunning bombs I made you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use those prototypes yet.”

“That’s all you got now!” he could tell Ginger was becoming agitated “Just do it, Jack!”

He did just that. Picking up one of the stunning bombs in his pocket he threw it as hard as he could towards the barricade. A loud, piercing sound erupted almost immediately, hurting his ears even from where he was. Poor goons, he thought. With his ears still ringing, he took off using his whip and lasso to take out the men one by one.

Once the place was clear and no other enemies could be detected, he ran towards the place he last saw you. Where you had gone down. He came to a halt, however, his heart dropping to his stomach when his eyes landed on your slumped form, a bullet hole on your temple and blood covering the ground.

“Shit, Ging! They blew her brains out.”

“Administer the gel, quick! It’s been way too long already.”

He fumbled with the equipment, almost dropping the roll of gel, before he quickly placed it over your face, making sure to cover the wound.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. Ging is going to fix your pretty little head in no time, yeah?”

The gel inflated and seemed to be doing its job.

“Ginger, the gel’s been administered. What now?”

“I’m sending a rescue team your way. Try keeping her head slightly elevated.” she said “And Jack? She’s going to be okay.”

Jack nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He moved around and propped his back against a tree, his legs extended in front of him. As carefully as he could, he dragged your body, laying your head on his lap, running his fingers through your hair.

“You are going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

The following hours were amongst the longest of his life. Jack would even go as far as to say it was almost as long as the hours he went without any news from his wife the day she had died. As soon as the plane landed on the tarmac, a gurney was ready to take you, rolling you to Ginger’s lab.

She wouldn’t allow him to go inside. The machine you were currently hooked onto had nanoparticles working on your brain to regenerate your neurons, astrocytes and neuroglia, or something sciency he couldn’t quite understand. He was in absolute agony not knowing how you were.

Finally, after what seemed like weeks, Ginger finally walked out of the lab. He scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting slumped against the wall in front of the lab’s doors.

“How is she?” he blurted out.

“Stable. But the damage to her brain was extensive. And the alpha gel wasn’t administered within the correct window of time.”

“Shit, Liz- I- If I had gotten to her quicker…”

“Hey, hey Jack” she laid a hand on his shoulder “It’s not your fault. There were 23 men shooting at the both of you. Our entire elite squad couldn’t take them all out that quick. You did all you could.”

He sighed, only half believing her.

“What does that mean to her?”

It was Ginger’s turn to sigh.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll only be able to assess the real extent of the damage once she wakes up.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Why don’t you take a shower, maybe try taking a nap? I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”

He nodded, actually wanting desperately to clean up now that Ginger mentioned it, but already knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until he knew you were safe.

Jack walked slowly back towards his quarters, almost dragging his feet into the shower. The water seemed to sooth his aches, but not his worries. He couldn’t get the image of your form, suddenly dropping lifeless, out of his head. Everytime he closed his eyes that scene replayed in the back of his eyelids like some sick, twisted film.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose another person he- shit, did he love you? You have been partners for years now, always had each other's backs. You were one of the few people he truly trusted, someone he felt comfortable enough to open up and be vulnerable. To be himself. Recently, he’s started feeling something more than just the friendship you’ve nourished for the past years. He felt the urge to protect you, even though he knew for a fact you could look after yourself. He wanted to kiss you goodnight and wake up next to you the following morning. So did he love you?

Yeah. Yeah, he did. He knew that now. And he couldn’t lose you.

Laying on his bed, his hair was still wet from the shower when Ginger pinged him. He was out of bed and halfway across the base in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember running that fast in years. Bursting through the door of the lab, he found you sitting on one of the pristine white beds, Ginger in front of you holding a clipboard.

“Sweetheart…”

Both you and Ginger looked at him with wide eyes. Ginger walked around your bed in his direction.

“Whiskey, wait-” but he didn’t listen.

“Sweetheart, thank all things sacred, you’re okay!”

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace you two had ever shared. He pulled back, hardly noticing the way you stiffened in his embrace, cupping your cheeks so he could look into your eyes.

“Jack-” he faintly registered Ginger’s voice behind him, but he didn’t truly care. All he cared about was that you were safe. That is until you opened your mouth to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled politely at him “but who are you?”

#jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman: the golden circle fanfiction #kingsman fanfic #tw: major head injury #tw: memory loss

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