#she was living under one roof with this man for so long she believed him and she gave up because he just... said so? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

Text

Wild Horses

Part 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.

🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.

Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.

Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.

At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.

The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.

He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.

And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.

On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.

Now back to the current.

That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?

"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.

You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."

You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.

"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.

God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.

"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.

"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"

"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."

Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.

So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.

Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.

"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.

"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.

"Soap? How?”

"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."

"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.

“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.

“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”

“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.

“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.

"The fuck is that?"

".................cocaine."

"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”

You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.

"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”

"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."

Right. "What kind is it?”

"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."

"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”

"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”

Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.

“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.

“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.

“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.

“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.

“They’re downright hideous.”

“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.

Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."

"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.

As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.

The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.

That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.

He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?

It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.

And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.

"What time will you be back?"

"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."

“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.

"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.

The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.

"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.

"The fuck are those?"

"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.

"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.

"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.

“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”

Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.

But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.

“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.

“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.

Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”

“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”

“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.

“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.

“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.

“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”

"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.

Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.

You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.

“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”

“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.

When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.

But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.

During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.

The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.

As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.

He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.

You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.

The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.

“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?

“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.

You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.

“What-what happened?”

“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.

“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.

“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."

Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.

Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.

“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”

“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”

“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."

“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.

“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"

“No. No, I’m fine.”

"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."

"Of course."

The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.

Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.

"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.

"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.

"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”

"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.

“I will?”

"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."

"Oh.....okay."

Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"..............Hey y/n."

"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.

"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."

Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.

He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.

The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.

Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.

“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.

"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."

Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."

The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.

Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.

The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.

Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”

“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.

“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.

“Sorry?”

“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”

“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."

After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.

This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.

Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.

Now, moving on.

By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.

So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.

When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ghost?”

Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.

“Is everything alright?”

Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.

“You’re not hurt are you?”

“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.

“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”

“Another time.”

“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.

He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.

You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.

“Well? Whadya want?”

“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“

“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”

“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”

“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.

“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“

Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.

"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”

A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?

Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.

"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.

“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.

“…………….”

"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."

“……………………..”

“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.

Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.

Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.

“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“

"I'll do it."

“What-“

“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”

“Alrigh-”

“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.

"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."

Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.

"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.

“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."

"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.

"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.

And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.

"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"

".................."

"Right. I forget you don't speak."

Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.

"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.

"............."

A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.

More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.

"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."

You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.

“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”

“……………….”

Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.

“REM.”

“……………….”

Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.

“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”

Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.

There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.

While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.

You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.

When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.

“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”

Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.

Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.

“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”

“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.

“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.

As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.

Part 4

Tag List: @swissy23 @sualocin @kristalhi @deakyspuff @sometimes-i-write-good @hamilfanyu @princessranch @ig-you-idiot @obitoshotaf @cavern-creature @at0mschutzbunker @eddiesbixch696 @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @jocecymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @aloudplace @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff @notabotiswear @thecraziestcrayon @lilwingedwolfy @sprkthere @shyyxzi @bookmark-anon @simplecole18 @itsourkisses-blog @here4thespice @sunndust @josephquinnswhore @spooniscute @xghostyx666 @nikolai-m-s @he4rtbloss0m @classifiedtoe @killergoddessmm @sm8th0p @lunarayx @iwannabeazoldyck @butterflypillows @lobeliaaaaaa @mxtokko

1K notes · View notes

andreafmn · 10 months

Text

Speak | Chapter 10

Word Count: 3.5K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 10/? Warnings: emotional and mental abuse A/N: can't believe I finished this on schedule! the story everyone is obsessed with for some reason just got updated😂🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 10

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Jacob suddenly asked as the pair made their way to his truck. "It's already so late and I don't wanna make the drive back to Forks right now."

"Uh, sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to contain her excitement. A surge of happiness took over her as she witnessed Jake trying. He was trying to keep them together, at least that's what it looked like to her. "I'll just let dad know."

"Yeah, sure."

After she had settled on the center of the seat, Jacob helped his father into the truck, stepping out to say goodbye to his friends.

"I'll let you know that there won't be any funny business under my roof, (Y/N)," Billy smiled teasingly. "Though I am glad that Jacob is seemingly trying to turn over a new leaf this new year."

"I promise we'll do nothing but sleep, Billy," she chuckled. "And I also hope this is a new start for Jake and me. That everything that happened stays in the past and we can just give it our all in this relationship."

"If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe will find a way," he said as mystically as he always spoke. "You deserve happiness, my child."

"People keep saying that," she responded, her eyes growing far more interested in the skin of her fingers. "Does no one think that Jake can make me happy?"

"That's not what I'm saying, (Y/N)," he smiled, his hand falling on top of the one she was picking. "All I am saying is that if the love and happiness that you deserve is with Jacob, then the universe will allow it."

"And if not?"

"Then, your paths will always align."

"Then let's hope that what's written on the stars is in our favor." And as she said that she didn't know if she was wishing that to convince him or to convince herself.

The three of them rode back to the Black residence in a comfortable silence. The sounds of the woods and the whistling of the wind filled their quiet. She wondered what they said. If they whispered words of encouragement or if they taunted her downfall. She wanted to believe it was the former, because the latter would wreck her.

"Well, you two. I trust that you will behave yourselves since you're under my roof," Billy told them, eyeing the teenagers suspiciously. "And don't start getting used to these sleepovers. This is only because it's already two in the morning and we are all tired."

"Dad," Jacob grumbled. "Just go to bed already."

"Ooh, never thought I'd be shooed away in my own home," the man chuckled. "But I will leave you two. Not because you told me so, but because I am tired. Good night, kids."

"Night, dad."

"Good night, Billy."

Billy rolled away to his bedroom, turning in for the night. He left the couple standing in the living room, a heavy and tense air blowing between them. They had yet to acknowledge everything that had happened between them, much less finally putting it to rest.

"Uh, I'll get you some clothes and you can shower first if you want," Jacob mumbled as he walked into his room before coming out with a folded t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Might be a bit big on you, but it's better than nothing. There're extra towels under the sink."

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

There was still remnant awkwardness between them as they tried to waltz around unspoken words. She locked herself in the bathroom, finally allowing herself to breathe. Fresh start is what she told herself. Over and over again she told herself that they were having a fresh start. As she showered and cleaned away Paul's touch and the thought of him, she had to believe it.

Jacob was who she had always wanted. The boy she had grown up with, the one she had never forgotten. Still, her mind wondered what would have happened if Paul had been the one she had met first. If he had been the boy that was in her mind for the almost sixteen years she had been alive. Maybe she would have been standing in his bathroom instead of Jake's. Maybe she would have been wearing his oversized t-shirt.

"Hey," Jacob called softly from the living room as she opened the bathroom door. "Come here."

(Y/N) walked down the hallway to where he was, a smile stretching on her face as she was met with what Jake had done while she showered.

He had pushed aside the wooden coffee table that lived between the sofas and placed in its stead plush blankets and pillows, a pair of hot chocolate mugs in front of the fireplace. His long, wet hair was plaited back, and he had changed into pajamas. And he was waiting for her.

"What's all this?" (Y/N) smiled.

"I think it's about time we put things to rest already, (Y/N)," he said, patting the pace in front of him. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like it either," she sighed contentedly as she sank into the warmth of his body, his arms wrapping around her. "I like things when they're like this. When we're together and happy."

"I know, and I want it to be like this all the time. But it can't be when I hear you're running around with Paul," he reminded her. His tone was soft, but his words were as snipping as a snake's bite. "I just can't stand the guy and it's embarrassing when it happens in front of the town."

"Jake, I..."

"Don't worry, baby, that's all in the past. As long as you promise not to see him again, (Y/N). I don't want you to fall into his trap."

(Y/N) couldn't remain quiet for long. She knew it would only work to anger him. But how could she promise something she didn't want to do? Something that her gut told her was wrong. "Of course," she lied. "I promise. Paul is a thing from the past."

"That's what I like to hear," he smiled before he turned her head to kiss her. "We need to focus more on us. Focus on our relationship."

"I would love that," she beamed. "I want this to work, Jake. I want us to work."

"Then let's," he smirked.

Jake attached his mouth to her neck, nipping at a spot that took her breath away. His hand held her head back, gripping her jaw. He took in her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sounds from her mouth. All as he imagined...

"Stop, Jake," she said, her voice treading between a moan and a chuckle. "Your dad is literally down the hall."

"He's a heavy sleeper," he chuckled against her skin. "He'll never know."

"No, Jake." She separated from him; a playful grin splayed on her mouth as she turned to face him. "Not here. Not now."

"Ugh, fine," he groaned, falling on his back. "Then, I guess we'll just sleep."

"Yes," she mused, crawling over his body and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "But together."

Jacob wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, positioning both of them comfortably on a blanket and draping another over them. Her body curled into his, his arms wrapped around her waist as he spooned her.

"We'll have to talk about taking things to the next level," he said against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I think it might cement everything between us."

"And I think you need to take a breather, Jacob," she chuckled. "We just got to a good place. Let's take things as they go."

"Ugh, fine," he muttered jokingly. "Then, let's just go to sleep."

"Alright, Jake. Good night."

"Night, (Y/N)."

If every night after was like this one, maybe it was the universe's way of telling her that Jake was the one. Laying there, wrapped in his arms, she could let herself believe that the tides were changing. That at the end of the day, Jacob would choose her. Maybe, just maybe.

***

"I can't believe she went home with him," Paul groaned, punching a nearby tree. The way the bark splintered helped ease his anger for a second, but the burning pain inside his chest remained. "I don't know what else I can do to make her understand what a shitty guy he is."

"You know there is," Jared teased. "You could always tell her how you feel and why."

Paul's stoic stare was clear even in the darkness of the night. He knew Jared was right. The more he pursued her without telling her the reason why, the harder it would be to explain his behavior. "You know I can't, dude," he grumbled. "I don't wanna put her in the middle of all of this bull."

"It's not that bad, man," the boy offered. "Look at me and Kim. She knows and nothing has happened to her."

"Yeah, she also liked you before you were a shapeshifting freak," he joked. "And look at Emily. She's forever scarred because didn't have a grasp on what was happening."

"Come on, you know that was an exception, Paul. What happened to her was a very unfortunate accident. But an accident, nonetheless. There's really no reason for you to be running from (Y/N)."

"Look how much shit happened to Bella in so little time, Jared. And it all started when she found out the truth about the Cullens," Paul said. "I don't know what I would do if I made (Y/N) go through any of that because of what I am."

"So you're gonna continue brooding and make our lives miserable? Just tell her, man. Maybe she'll fall in love with you and turn that frown upside down."

Paul picked up a stick and threw it at Jared's head, laughing as the other boy tried to duck but failed to; the piece of wood bouncing off his forehead. "You'll have to put up with me for a lot longer then," he laughed, swallowing the sadness that threatened to overtake him. "I just don't think I have it in me to do that to her. She deserves to be safe and happy."

"Even if it's with Jacob?"

"Unfortunately, that decision is hers to make," he sighed. "I just wish she didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Jared remained quiet for a second. He stared as his pack brother paced before him, his mind too quiet aside for the sporadic image of (Y/N). But even if he didn't say it, he could feel Paul's sadness. He could feel the tug in his chest that called him to go to her. He had felt it too. Every time Kim had to go to a family dinner or visit family out of state, he felt like someone had taken his heart off his chest and sent it away.

But (Y/N) was so close. All he had to do was have one tough conversation and he could soften the grasp of the claws that covered his heart. "What are you so afraid of, Paul?" Jared finally said. "I know you say you don't want to hurt her and all that, but there's something else. Isn't there?"

Paul stared at his friend, wondering if he was that transparent. "I've never been a, uh, a relationship guy. Haven't had the best role models," he confessed. "I guess I think that if I let myself get close to her, I won't be able to handle when she inevitably goes. Because at the end of the day, everyone leaves."

"Not everyone, Paul. We're still here."

"Because you have to be," he shrugged. "If you had the chance to go, you would take it. And don't try denying it."

"Come on, man. You're my friend. More than that, you're my brother," Jared reassured. "But, sure, if I had the chance to leave the rez one day, I would take it. But that doesn't mean I would leave my friends behind. Much less, family."

"Jared, we wouldn't have even spoken to each other had it not been because of the shift. I'm not that delusional to think otherwise."

"Regardless of how or why it happened, life brought us together, Paul. And whether you like it or not, you're my brother now," the boy smiled, draping his arm over Paul's shoulders. "Now, you need to let that girl prove that she would stick by you as well. And it starts by having that difficult conversation you're so scared to have. She's desperate for a reason, dude. All you have to do is tell her."

"She's going to think I'm crazy, J. That I'm making up stories to get her away from Jake," Paul whined. "Why would she believe that there are shapeshifting wolves roaming around the reservation protecting humans from threats? And what if she goes to her sister with the story? Then Bella will know about vampires and shapeshifters, and it'll just add more shit on top of the mess we're dealing with."

"How about you stop overthinking yourself into the ground and finally grow some balls?" Jared teased. "Don't think of what might happen and live in the moment. I know last year's Paul would've had the courage to ask her out. Jacob or no Jacob."

"I technically already asked her out once, and it ended up with me, by myself, in the diner," he reminded his friend, red flooding his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment. "This is not just about inviting the prettiest girl in school to the prom. This is about telling someone that everything they had believed is not real. It's telling her that it doesn't matter what she might have wanted, that something out in the universe decided that we are bonded for life. It's telling a girl like her that she's stuck with a guy like me."

"Man, I can't keep trying to convince you that you are a good guy," Jared sighed. "I'm not saying you're the gods' gift to mankind. Certainly not the you from a year ago. But you're not that guy anymore. You're not even the same guy from six months ago. So, it's time to pick yourself up and do what you have to do. Stop moping about this and do something."

***

(Y/N) woke up with warm arms wrapped around her and a pang in her chest she didn't understand. She was supposed to feel happy. She was supposed to wake up that New Year's Day with an overwhelming amount of joy and the sense that things were finally on the right path. Instead, there was an aching void in her heart that was trying to eat at her insides.

It was the same void that had started festering since that fateful night at the bonfire. The one that seemed to calm whenever the fluke was around. The one that called out his name and she had let go on deaf ears.

That pang filled her with guilt. As she lay in Jacob's arms, she felt guilty that her head was thinking of another guy. And it was a guy she barely knew. A boy that she had no business thinking about, much less dreaming about.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't forget the softness of his hands against her skin, the brightness of his smile as he looked at her, the glimmer in his eyes when he listened to her. She couldn't get him out of her head.

And as if by divine intervention, the very constant thought appeared in Jacob's window. He knocked softly, motioning for her to go outside. (Y/N) couldn't believe he was there, much less that Jacob had yet to wake up. But what was harder to fathom was the fact that she was tiptoeing to the front door dragging a blanket with her.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" (Y/N) said as she closed the door behind her, wrapping the fabric tighter around her body. "If Jacob sees you here, he'll kill you."

"I thought I was supposed to be playing nice with him," he grinned teasingly. "What if I was here to extend a truce?"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he made me promise him that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered. "So, imagine what he will do if he sees you here right now."

"And did you?"

"What? Did I what?"

"Did you promise him, (Y/N)?" Paul asked sadly. "Is this your way of telling me that you're cutting ties with me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly replied. "I mean, I did promise him. But I never intended to keep it. I would just find a way to keep you two separate."

"So, what? I'd just be your dirty little secret?" he replied, anger clear in his tone. "Yeah, no, thanks. I'd rather take my chances with other friendships."

"What did you want me to say, Paul? Did you want me to tell my jealous boyfriend that I wanted to maintain a friendship with the one guy he seems to despise more than anything?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth. "Would you have wanted me to tell Jake that I wanted to spend time with a guy he was close to dragging into the middle of town and beating the living daylights out of him? Sure, that would have ended great for me."

"Why would you wanna be with a guy like that, (Y/N)? If you're that afraid of his reaction over something as small as a friendship, what do you think will happen if something bigger happens?"

"He only reacts that way with you, and I don't get why," she sighed. "And I wanna be with him because I... because... because I..."

"Why, (Y/N)? Tell me!"

"Because I love him, Paul," she cried, shame cracking her voice. "I've been waiting for this chance for the better part of my life. I've been in love with him for as long as I've known what it was. And he wants me back, Paul. He wants me. And I'm not giving up at the first sign of hardship. So, if you really want to be my friend then you're gonna have to live with that."

"What if I don't?" Paul grumbled, his voice low and hurt. He got closer to her. So close she could feel how warm his body was, even through the blanket. "What if I can't stand around and watch as he mistreats you? Someone that loves you would never treat you like that."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Paul," she whispered, warm tears falling down her cheeks. "For some reason I want you in my life. But I won't screw up what I just started with Jacob for a friend."

"I just don't wanna see you like this," he said, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumbs. "You deserve to be happy, but not when it has rules and regulations like this. You should be allowed to still be yourself when you're in a relationship."

"Paul..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I can't just watch in the sidelines as he treats you like shit when you deserve someone that will worship the ground you walk on."

"What are you saying, Paul?" (Y/N) croaked. "Are you saying you won't be my friend if I stay with Jacob?"

"(Y/N), I'm saying that I won't keep quiet if he keeps mistreating you."

"He doesn't," she said, but she knew it wasn't convincing. She didn't even believe it herself. "He just... he's just passionate, I guess."

"Then can you promise me something?" Paul sighed, his eyes glossing with tears. "If he ever –and I mean ever—gets physical with you, even as much as lifts his hand at you, you will tell me. The second it happens, you call me."

"I don't think it'll come to that," she forced a smile. "He would never put his hands on me."

"Just, please, (Y/N). Promise me and don't lie to me."

"Alright," she said, looking straight into the brown of his eyes. "I promise, Paul."

"I'll make sure you're always safe," he promised. His hand had not fallen from her face, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. "No one is going to hurt you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had no idea why, but she believed every word he said. So, she promised. And, unlike with Jacob, she intended to keep it.

Next ->

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx@minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby@andreiaafaria@bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the @user0ur0mom@skyesthebomb @swidkid @avis15 @honeylovemoon@wonieeee @edwardssugarmommy @nyenye@sugajar @lovel-blog @witchofhawkins @Six-Call @then-worship-at-my-altar@ems-alexandra @blueshoelacess @Nyctophilia710 @rosalie-whitlock @nocturnalherb16 @this-is-a-bad-idea@esposadomd @locokoca@volturiwolf@spookyqueen@gh0stgirl33@catgirlpwr @nolaxox @klf1999@krazyk99@ilikepunsbeth@adaydreamaway08@cinffy23 @paodemorangol1l1 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel@toomanythoughts33@jrosefangirl@queereddie @Missvicious @sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo@fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-Loki-Bucky @honeywxter @haroldpotterson@justamessandahalf@come-on-darling-honey@dove-chan32931@kaita11@gangstalicious06 @iincandescenttt @demonchick1@uwunuggetchan@elijahssuit @multifandomreader73 @shara-ne@nngkay@blackloveangel13 @Mar @the-faceless-bride@holywolfsstuff@abs-2020@lunajay33@hpboysslut2707@lisacarolined @TheCollectorOfWords @euphoria1992 @yuki255 @gabi-princesada1d @lowkeysaurus@zealouscookierebeltrash@laylasbunbunny@sleepilysworld@quartzzzzzzz@merakiaes @Rycbar22 @treatiseofselena@pinkdragonfandream-blog @attlas567 @american-sataness @magical-spit @t-stark35@thirstybunzy@inpraizeof@multifandombitch696@phases–ofthemoon @oi-itse@foley-97@gh0stgurl @rinalous @Smolalien13 @jstarr86@svsmoony@spideysbaby @Odinswarriorvalkyrie @Coquita @ilikepunsbeth @Itsmytimetodream @ivory-raptor @laury-blackbeak @unstablekay @midnightmisses @paperbackwitch @problematicpastry @thirstybunzy @magical-spit @t-stark35 @multifandombitch696

@kiroii-ntzl @ggshif79 @ratsys @iincandescenttt @loserclub36 @hopexargent @druigsluver29 @ronslovergir; @fresita1218 @buckywenal @flu0re @xkatiex @unicornicopia1 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @ange111face222

471 notes · View notes

starsreminisce · 21 days

Text

His jaw tightened. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile.

SJM sets up Lucien's struggles point-blank, and it's nuanced how she conveys that Elain does need and want him.

It wasn't until Lucien came to the Night Court, living under the same roof, that she finally left her room to meet him.

It wasn't until Lucien despaired over her longing for Graysen that she offered to him the revelation that she could hear his heart through the stone. She engaged in conversation beyond expressing her desire to go home.

It wasn't until Lucien was about to leave to find Vassa that she tried to stop him. When she saw the blood on his clothes, she asked him if he was alright. She chose to follow Lucien and Feyre after the war was over.

Elain even voiced her needs clearly. She expressed a desire for sunshine, symbolizing her mate’s father, who epitomizes the sun. When she expressed a longing to return home, Lucien not only heard her words but also sensed her despair and devastation.

SJM wouldn't have given Lucien these thoughts and then a mate whom she described as deeper than a husband, a bond so permanent, only for Elain to be like, "Yeah, Lucien's right."

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

81 notes · View notes

am-i-interrupting · 2 months

Note

Okay I don’t know if you are accepting requests or suggestions but can I ask for a one shot or something of like what happens between Vox and reader from the one author, two host series when alastor returns. Like what would happen and I feel like Vox would be FOMING at the mouth from anger because he knows how much pain it caused reader and all doesn’t even tell them where he was

Went Away | OATSH

Vox had long since regretted saving Valentino’s pathetic little soul. He could have and should have found someone else to be the head of the porn industry. Unfortunately, with the deal they’d made, Vox couldn’t harm the man unless he broke the confines of their contract. Valentino toed the line, most certainly, but he hadn’t yet broken it.

Velvette was complaining about one of her models being scared shitless by Valentino and having some of her work torn up but no harm had actually come to any of them. That was always the thing, always the line he just barely stayed in.

He couldn’t hurt anyone without justifiable cause. That is what was in his contract. He could scare, he could manipulate, he could yell, but he couldn’t hurt.

Vox walked into Valentino’s office.

“Fucking finally!” the man yelled. “Kitty, another drink! Can you believe what that piece of shit did?! The ungrateful whore!”

Vox side stepped the glass that had been thrown his way. “Which whore are we talking about this time?”

“Fucking Angel Dust, who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Vox leaned away from Valentino as the man breached his space. Many answers to that question raced into his mind. Too many sex workers, too many models, too many people on the street, himself, once you. Only once had Valentino called you a whore. Never again.

“That fucking slut walked out on me. Me. I made him! Without me he’s just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes.”

Vox had gotten out his phone while Valentino went on his rampage. He felt himself relax just a bit, a small smile coming to his lips as he saw a message from you.

Sorry about leaving early this morning. Star called. Stuff came up. Fixing some roofing. Hate this time of year.

His soft smile though changed from soft to hopeful.

“Angel Dust quit?” he asked.

He was hoping for a yes. You’d be so ecstatic if he finally was able to quit. That was another reason for him to hate the fact that he saved Valentino; the fact that Valentino had a contract neither of you knew about beforehand and under Angel’s contract, he could do whatever he wanted and it would be seen as justifiable.

“No, he didn’t fucking quit. It’s worse.” Valentino grabbed Vox’s phone from his hand and threw it against the wall. “He moved!”

Vox hadn’t even been able to text you back.

“He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you fucking believe that? He thinks he can just run off and shack up with Lucifer’s bimbo daughter.”

“Angel is living with Lucifer’s daughter now?”

You’d be happy to know about that at least.

“Yeah, that bitch. Chalky or Chandler or something manish like that,” he said as he opened up his closet. “She’s got this hotel and— which of these makes me look sexier?”

Anyone else. He would have let the man go in a rampage, break their contract, and discard him if it was anyone but her. Had it been anyone else other than Lucifer’s daughter, Vox would have let him.

“What are you doing, Val?” he asked, venom entering his voice before his eye began to spiral. “You’re not going over there.”

“That slippery twink is going to remember who owns him. I’m going to fuck everyone in that rancid hotel, I swear to god,” Valentino continued, ignoring him.

Vox scowled to himself before he grabbed Valentino’s wings and pulled him close, his face brightening so the man could actually see him.

“Val!” He laughed before he smoothed his wings back into their coat-like shape. “Think about it. My brand is perfection. What do you think chasing whores around town would do for my image?” He grabbed the gun from Valentino’s hand.

“Uh, fuck it up?”

Vox played a game show ringing as he said, “Right! Do you want people thinking I can’t control my employees and that you can’t control yours?”

“No.”

“Exactly! And, hey—“ Vox knew you would hate what he said next— “you still have him under contract. He’s not going anywhere. So, you should. . .?”

“Do nothing?”

“Great idea!” Vox pulled Valentino down into to put his arm around his shoulders as more game show sound effects played. “Now that’s why I pay you the big bucks.”

“But I really wanted to shoot someone,” Valentino said as he pulled out his cigarette. “You never let me have any fun anymore.”

Vox lit the cigarette with the tip of his claw. “Well, let me pull out my wife’s hit list. Let you have a go at some of them, hmm?”

“Aw,” Valentino said with a chuckle, “you know me too well.”

Of course Vox did. He had to. The man was practically a child most days. He constantly questioned how he could have been so stupid as to have let him live. Regardless, it was a choice he now had to live his second life with.

He twisted his wedding ring with his thumb as he summoned a new phone.

Don’t worry about it. Turf wars are always a hassle. I get it and know by now you’re always busy this time of year. We all are. When you get a sec, can you send me some people on your list? Valentino’s being a piss baby again, as Vel so eloquently put it.

“You know, Angel isn’t the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil’s princesa,” Valentino said after taking a draw of his cigarette.

When is he not?

“Oh, who else is there?” Vox asked as he opened the document you’d sent him. “Someone who owes you money?”

Valentino laughed once again. “Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there.”

Vox collapsed on himself as he tensed. His claws dug through the metal of the desk, breaking his phone as he did so. His entire body sparked with electricity.

“What did you just say?” he asked, his voice coming out distorted as he turned to Valentino, his eye spiraling as red pixels began spilling from his mouth.

“You heard me.”

Oh, he was going to kill Valentino, contract be damned.

“Alastor, my wife’s father—“ he glitched— “is back and he is with Lucifer’s daughter instead of his own—“ he glitched again— “and that wasn’t the first fucking thing you told me?!” he pulled Valentino down to his height as sparks flew off his body and his voice raised to a yell.

“Hey, Alastor missing is your problem,” Valentino said as he walked to the computer desk and pressed a button.

A distorted feed came up on the screen. Vox immediately teleported to the desk, leaning as close as he could to make out every detail of the scene.

He could make out the blonde hair of Lucifer’s daughter, the white fur of Angel Dust, and the extra distorted figure that Vox knew from previous videotapes to be Alastor.

He snarled, a full growl come from his mouth. His claws dug all the way through the desk. His breathing started to quicken.

Vaguely, in his subconscious mind, he registered an anger at a different thing. Alastor was torturing someone and he hadn’t told you? He hadn’t invited you? He always had before.

He didn’t even register Valentino’s words. He didn’t find any amusement in the squeaks that came from the man like he normally would. All he could focus on was Alastor walking away from the hotel.

“Vox? Vox!” Valentino called out, finally breaking him from his trance.

“That fucker is back!”

“Yeah, I thought he was gone for good tooAfter seven years!”

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time?” Valentino grabbed the corner of Vox’s screen. Vox pushed him off, still sparking. “Ow!”

“Fuck off!”

Vox’s breath started coming out harshly as he began to spiral.

How was he going to tell you? How dare Alastor? Oh, sure, Vox was the problem. He was trying to steal you from Alastor when it was Alastor who left you for seven years without a word, not even telling you goodbye or where he was going or when he came back.

He hadn’t been there. Did he not know what pain he caused you? The worry, the tears, the depression. You had been a mess those first couple months. Did he not think you would be effected by his sudden disappearance? Was he really, truly that stupid?

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re really this peeved?” Valentino said.

Vox ignored him as he walked out of the room to his own office.

Valentino pouted as he watched the door close. Then he went to pick up Vox’s phone to look at that list only to see the screen cracked and back scratched.

“Fuuuck!” he said as he threw his head back. He picked up his gun that had been left behind as well and shot a hole through the wall.

Vox pulled up your vitals on his screen. You knew he had them. He monitored them as well as your location through the ring on your finger and you had access to his own through the same.

There was a stark difference in how often the two of you looked at them though. Yours got pulled up multiple times a day while his only got pulled up a few times every couple months.

That was alright though. You knew he could be possessive but more than that, you knew how often he worried.

He quickly found and quickly sent a dispatch of construction workers that way before he went there himself.

You didn’t even flinch when he knelt behind you and draped himself over his back. After so many decades, it’d become second nature to know when the other was around. What did concern you was how tightly he held you.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, voice ever so slightly distorted with some filter. “Alone.”

You turned, unafraid of falling off the roof in his grasp. You held his screen between your hands. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t even have time to blink before you were in the tower with him.

“You said that Hustler came to see you the other day, right?”

“Husk, but yes,” you said. “Is everything okay? Is he alright?”

“Did you ask him why?” Vox asked.

“I— Yes, it was that advertisement. I didn’t have time to look it over. I just gave it to your assistant,” you told him. “He didn’t give me porn or something, did he? That doesn’t sound like him but he said he lost a game, had to be the one to bring it to me.”

“So you didn’t watch the commercial? Neither did I. How about we watch it together, hm?”

“Okay,” you said, the word coming out slowly, hesitantly.

You didn’t sit as he didn’t either. The television just came on.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” a woman you vaguely recognized said.

She had white hair done in Hollywood waves that contrasted her grey skin. She wore dress that was somewhat reminiscent of a 50s dress and a large hat with floral elements. Across thAngel Dust in a pink and white suit, wearing pink gloves that he used to blow a kiss to the camera. In front of him was Niffty in a classic flapper dress. Then Husk drinking beside her.

None of that is what caught your attention however. What did was the distorted person beside Husk, back turned to the camera but you recognized him.

Immediately your eyes widened as your nose and eyes began to sting. You bit your lip to contain a scream as your breath began to quicken.

You had mourned him.

You mourned him! You’d done it once in life and now once in death and for what?! Why did you have to mourn him when he was right there?! He was there!

You took off your shoe and threw it at the television. Then did the same with the other. The screen broke, cracked. The TV fell to the floor.

“That bastard!” you yelled. “Fucking shit ass!”

You screamed so loud that is caused Vox to wince but still he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him and banged on his chest. Not enough to hurt him but enough to get out your frustration. He just pulled you closer.

Vark stood in the doorway, looking at Vox. His tail was drooped and he was hunched down. Vox slowly lowered you both to the ground and gestured for Vark to come.

He did. He butted his head against your back. He kept his head against your skin as he moved between the two of you. On instinct, you put your hand between Vark’s eyes and Vox put his right at the base of his spines. Vark moved and licked your face. You didn’t smile like you normally would.

“What do you want me to do?” Vox asked.

You stayed silent for a moment, hand moving back and forth on Vox’s simultaneously rough and smooth skin. Then, “Make him wish he’d stayed gone.”

You stood and went to your wardrobe. Vox followed as you threw a more official outfit on the bed. Then you went to the bathroom and fixed your makeup or rather, tried to. Your hands shook to much for you to do it properly.

Vox picked up your phone and sent a message to Velvette.

Get your ass here now. -V

He didn’t know how to apply makeup but after years of living with two people who did, he at least learned how to take it off.

When Velvette arrived, it was no secret. “What the hell happened here? What the fuck’s going on?”

“The Radio Demon’s back,” Vox said.

“Oh, well, shit,” she said. “Alright then, move aside, Voxy. I’m gonna give our gal some revenge makeup and you go make a script for you stupid show.”

“Top of the hour,” Vox said as he spun in his chair to face the camera, “and we’re discussing a certain hazbin who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence. Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”

The headline read, “Dud Dad Back From Getting Milk”

Across the screen, “So the radio guy’s back. I don’t think you noticed. I didn’t at first- I was too busy being present in my wife’s life but fuck it, news is slow today, I guess. I just want to go home to see my beautiful wife and tell her about where I’ve been even though she knows where I am because I tell her about my plans before fucking off.”

“Fucking hell!” Husk yelled, catching the attention of everyone in the hotel.

“Aw, after so many years I can still startle you? How cute,” you said as you leaned your head on your hand with a smirk that immediately made him uneasy.

You were wearing a black cropped turtle neck with a pair of slightly baggy jeans, an oversized jacket that clearly was not yours with its light and dark blue stripes and pinkish-red interior. Your legs were crossed and revealed your heeled black boots. Your hair was down in loose, natural curls but your makeup was anything but with a dark smokey eye and dark nude lipstick.

“Oh, he fucked up,” Husk said as he grabbed a bottle and moved out from behind the bar.

“Um, okay,” the princess said. “Hi, I’m Charlie and you are?”

“Not here for you,” you said as you moved to take Husk’s place behind the bar.

“And who are you here for?” Charlie asked.

The television flickering on gave you no reason to answer her. Instead you mixed a cocktail as all eyes turned to the TV screen.

“So, the Radio Demon is back in town,” Vox said on the screen. “Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well, handily I’ve got good news. The guy’s a loser, an absent and I don’t mean to sound arrogant but he’s a really shitty parent. That one’s real apparent.

“He used to go on and on about how I’d be the one gone yet he’s the one who said so long. I’m right here, never fear. I plan on staying even when raining. I’m not afraid of things changing. So if you can’t update, maybe relocate. Go on a va-cay and stay the fuck away.

“He clung onto radio, we pivoted to video. Now his medium has gotten bloody rare. We’ve been better since he split. Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”

The radio crackled to life. “Salutations, good to be back on the air.”

You took a long sip of your cocktail as you heard his voice for the first time in seven years. The glass nearly cracked in your hands.

“Yes, I know it’s been a while since someone with style has treated Hell to a broadcast. Sinners, rejoice!”

“What a dated voice.”

“Instead of a clout-chasin' mediocre video podcast.”

“Come on!”

“Is Vox insecure? Pursuing allure. Going for small blows towards the pros, is it really working?”

“It’s better than your chirping!”

“Every day, he's got a new insult while still thinking everything wrong is his fault.”

“You’re looking at the one who stayed! He’s the one who went away!”

“Is Vox as strong as he purports or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without that pretty ring.”

“Oh, tell us a new thing!”

“Fine, let’s try something new. I know things you haven’t been through. Nothing you say has any sway. I’ve always been here, never on va-cay. I’m still in charge. Always been here on the charts. So if you’ve got something to say, go ahead then go away. I haven’t got all day.”

“You were gone far too long. She mourned and now she’s scorned. Wished you’d never been born. So why don’t you follow through with this amazing news and tell us what you’ve been through. Better hurry or just scurry ‘cause this picture’s getting blurry. Buffering from our furry. Go ahead and have your say or go away like seven years ago that day.”

The radio clicked off.

Vox stayed panting for a moment, hands gripping the desk tightly. Then his breathing slowed and he sat back down. He restacked his papers.

“Guess he didn’t have much to say so he’s gone and went away. Nothing new. It’s old news. He’s gone once again so soon.”

The television flickered off.

Husk sunk into the couch. Niffty looked over to you with her wide eye. Angel looked down at your ring and then back at you like he was seeing you for the first time. Charlie still stood where she’d been when she came to greet you but she now rung her fingers together.

“Well, I suppose not all broadcasts are a success,” Alastor’s voice said as he came downstairs. “Regardless,” he clapped his hands together then he saw you. “My dear! There you are.”

You simply glared at him as you took a sip of your cocktail.

“Where is that darling smile of yours? You know you’re—“

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, what does that matter? I’m back now, aren’t I?” he said.

“You’re such a,” your voice trailed off as you looked down at your drink. “I cried for you.”

You thought back to late nights as a child where your father held you, whispering about his childhood in the vaguest of ways, making promises to never do you the same way.

“You promised I’d never have to do that,” you said. “You promised me the only reason I’d ever cry for you would be when you died. You’re not dead.”

“You know that my intention would never be to—“

“That doesn’t matter, Alastor!” you said.

His ears actually flicked back. You’d never done that before. You had never called him by his name.

A small part of you as happy with getting a hurt reaction from him.

You threw the glass at him. He didn’t side step it. It hit his newly tailored coat, glass breaking and liquid staining it. He didn’t even flinch.

“Fuck you, Alastor! Fuck you,” you said as you walked out of the hotel, slamming the door.

“I appear to have done something wrong,” Alastor said as he brushed the glass off his clothing, holding back a wince as his hand moved some caught in his skin.

“You think?” Husk said.

Alastor stared at where you had been before he spun around and went back upstairs.

“I’ve never seen her that angry before,” Niffty said softly.

“Yeah, me neither.”

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

98 notes · View notes

cobrabobra · 1 year

Text

"Asshole"

Carl Grimes x male!reader

pre Negan Alexandria, reader is Ron's older brother, kinda Carl's pov?, mention of porn, carl discovering his sexuality and being really confused about it, arguing, mention of guns

This is my first fanfic in years, english is not my first language so there might be some(a lot of) mistakes

part two

Carl was annoyed, like really pissed off and the thing is nothing really happend to get him so agitated, everything was fine, well as fine as it can be with the dead walking around. Everything was fine except his stupid little teenage heart. When finally things were going okay, when he finally had a roof over his head, food in his stomach and water in his sink, when he finally had a chance to take a break from living in constant fear, everything went to shit because of a one person.

He met (Y/N) when he was chilling in Ron's house, playing some video games, he was spending time with his friends ( if he could call them that) and finally feel like a normal teenage boy.

"You're cheating! " said Mikey, clearly not believing that young Grimes could've beaten him six times in a row.

Carl only chuckled at his words finding it funny that the boy could be such a sore loser.

"He probably doesn't even know how to cheat" Enid didn't even look up from her comic book as she spoke. Brown haired boy felt a sudden warm feeling in his chest, maybe him and Enid had a shot at being friends?

Enid was always distant, always annoyed at him for some unknown reason, when all he tried to do is make some friends, he didn't think he was too pushy or obnoxious, but maybe he was wrong. Anyway, he hoped that this was a sign that they were on the right track.

"Come on, it's my turn" Ron tried to break the silence after his girlfriends words. He himself was somehow surprised that Enid had protected Carl, after all he thought that they both disliked the new boy.

Unfortunately Anderson didn't have the time to sit on the floor and start the game before someone called to him.

"Ron? You here?" the voice came from downstairs and Carl was almost certain that he haven't met it's owner yet.

Approaching footsteps could've been heard and soon a new face appeared by the door.

Grimes discretely studied the newcomer's face, before him stood a boy, a little older than him with beautiful eyes and even prettier smile. To be honest, the man was gorgeous and Carl only wished he met him sooner, whoever he was.

"You're back from the run?" Ron stood up, he was clearly pleased to see this mysterious boy.

"Mhm" he nodded and took something out of his bag. "And I got you a little something" he said with a playful smirk on his face.

The little something happened to be a porn magazine and Anderson blushed furiously at the sight of it.

Mikey barely held back a laugh and he looked like he was suffocating while Enid completely ignored this whole situation. Carl himself found it amusing and couldn't help a little smile on his face.

Ron quickly took the magazine and threw it under his bed and because he did it without any thought, almost automatically, that made Carl think that this perhaps wasn't the first time something like that happened.

"I don't think we've met before, pretty boy" the stranger turned to the long haired male with a slight smile. His words made Carl blush a little and Ron more red than before, but this time with anger and not embarrassment.

"Don't call him tha-"

"I'm Carl. Carl Grimes" he cut the boy off as he introduced himself. Beautiful eyes of the man before him studied his face and Carl found himself feeling all tingly and warm in his chest once again.

"Nice hat, cowboy" he laughed, surely he wasn't trying to be mean, only to lighten up the mood a bit, but Grimes boy couldn't help to feel a little hurt and trying to hide himself by lowering his head, not wanting to look him in the face. "Name's (Y/N), Ron's older brother" he added, hoping his little comment will soon be forgotten.

(Y/N), such a pretty name, Carl thought, suits him quite nicely.

After that day the teen couldn't stop thinking about (Y/N), his hair looked so soft, his eyes friendly, his smile charming and his lips so-

Carl pushed his face into his pillow, feeling embarrassed to think such things about the boy. It was embarrassing, yes. But it was also new and exciting, definitely confusing, but mostly exciting. He never thought he would ever try to imagine how it feels to hug another boy, how to kiss another boy, how to be with another boy.

It's been a couple of weeks since they've met and all the brown haired boy could think was (Y/N), they've spent some time together and Carl even dared to call them friends. The other boy wasn't as interested in comic books as Carl was, but he seemed interested in hearing what Carl had to say about them. They often found themselves in the young Grimes' room, sitting on his bed, Carl talking about the newest comic he read while (Y/N) listened with a smile on his face.

Sometimes they would go on walks outside the walls, they kept close, their shoulders brushing against each other, thrill of being alone in the woods where danger was just around the corner, Carl couldn't help but love those.

So where all this anger came from? From frustration, not knowing who he was, who did he like and really not having an option to answer these questions. In the old world he might've just searched something on the internet, maybe done some quizzes, perhaps watched some porn, but this wasn't an option these days. All he knew was that he liked, really liked, (Y/N) , so was he gay? No, he couldn't be, not when he thought about kissing Enid as well, he thought that she was very pretty and her lips looked so soft. So, did he like both guys and girls? Was that even possible? Did he only like girls and (Y/N) was only an exception or was it the other way around and he only like boys, Enid being the exception? Hell, did he like anyone at all or was it just his hormones, some weird need to create a safe space for himself, his very own family? He was so confused and in a need for a serious talk but he didn't want to bother anyone, his dad and Michonne had a lot of work, Daryl would probably by more embarrassed about a conversation like that than Carl himself, with Ron, Enid and Mikey there was always a possibility that they could tell (Y/N) about his feelings.

He sighed and laid on his back, eyes pointed at the ceiling where (Y/N) put little glow in the dark star stickers he found in an abandoned house, Carl had to hold him up so he could reach the ceiling and gosh, his heart still raced at the memory of how close they were in that moment.

"Hey, cowboy. Whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice spoke and Carl almost died from hitting his head on the nightstand because of how fast he reached for the walkie. They'd found them on a run one time, probably should've given them to Rick, but how could anyone throw away an opportunity to talk to their crush in the middle of the night?

"Hey, what's up?" he responded trying to sound cool and casual, unfortunately his voice cracked a little which made him blush with embarrassment. He hated when it happened, he couldn't do anything about it and everyone made fun of it.

"Whoa, easy buddy. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a walk?" (Y/N)'s soft chuckle made Grimes ever more red. Gosh, his laugh was perfect, always made him smile too.

"Oh, crap, sorry, I already have plans with Enid" he suddenly remembered, since he followed her to the forest a couple of times they started to talk more and their friendship blossomed. They liked spending time with each other, mostly reading comics and just enjoying each other's company.

"You didn't tell me you had a date?" the boy on the other side of the walkie tried to sound offended.

"It's not a date, we just hang out sometimes, it's not a big deal" he quickly explained, although the thought of (Y/N) being jealous was very appealing he didn't want to risk pushing the boy away. If he had the tinest chance then he won't let it go to waste.

"Sure" there was a loud sigh, a disappointed one, though it might've been just his imagination. "I get it, no need to be shy 'bout having a girlfriend. Anyways, I'd better leave you alone, get ready for your totally casual hanging out with Enid alone in the woods totally not kissing. Have a nice one" (Y/N) left him with those words leaving Carl irritated again. He always does this, he always suggests that him and Enid are boyfriend and girlfriend, he's totally oblivious about Grimes' feelings. Enid was cool, pretty, good listener and if (Y/N) wasn't here Carl probably would've want to have that kind of relationship with her but for now his mind was focused on the boy who just hang up on him.

He hated it when (Y/N) always said crap like that and not even considered that Carl might've some sort of feelings for him. Or maybe he did realise that and he said stuff like that to show that he simply wasn't interested? Fuck, love is so complicated.

Few days later, they were exploring an abandoned building, Rick and Glenn cleared one room at a time while they stuffed their backpacks with whatever that might've been useful. They haven't really talked since that day, (Y/N) said he was busy doing something with Ron, which was obviously bullshit, although Ron was his brother, he annoyed (Y/N) more than he did anyone else. Carl spent those days thinking about what could he possibly have done wrong, maybe the other boy really was jealous? Maybe he was jealous of Carl spending so much time with Enid because he had the hots for her? Maybe he was just overthinking?

"Oh, look what I've found!" the object of his thoughts stood in front of him holding a dusty bottle of wine. "Should we take it?" he said with a mischievous grin. "Maybe you drink it with Enid, that'd be romantic, hm?"

"Are you seriously talking about it again? Me and Enid are not together" irritation in his voice must've thrown (Y/N) off a bit, because he just stood there looking confused.

"Come on, Carl, everyone can see it, you like her" he sighed, his voice tired of the same conversation over and over again, can't Carl just admit it?

"I don't like Enid, hell, I don't know if I even like girls, (Y/N)!" he snapped and quickly started regretting his words, he didn't mean to say that.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" he looked hurt, well of course he was, his best friend didn't tell him about his feelings, about what he's been going through.

"Forget it" he murmured under his breath and shoved the bottle in his backpack. "Let's just go"

He didn't expect for the other boy to grab his hand, though deep down he loved the sensatiom of being touched by him, he was too pissed off.

"What do you want from me?!" he yelled, clearly forgetting about the dead lurking behind every corner, just waiting for a chance to attack.

"I want you to talk to me, Carl" the older boy's voice was sad, almost as sad as when he told his friend about his abusive dad.

"There's nothing to talk about" starting to feel a bit guilty for hurting his friend, he tried to end the topic and move on.

"There is! For example, if you don't know if you like girls does it mean you like boys? Or do you think you don't like anyone in general?" the Alexandrian's expression turned from disappointed and hurt to irritated at the brown haired boy's behavior.

"I don't know!" all of the emotions he felt for the past couple of weeks started to come to the surface, he was frustrated that once again for not being able to answer these questions.

"How do you not know?!" they were both angry at each other at this point, Carl for (Y/N) pushing him, asking about stuff he had no idea about and (Y/N) at Carl for not wanting to talk to him.

"How am I supposed to know?! I don't know how to find out!"

And then something unexpected happened, one second Carl was clenching his fists ready to smash something with his head and the other he felt his whole body shiver and tense up at the feeling of a soft pair of lips against his own. He was too shocked to kiss (Y/N) back, too confused, too tingly and weak inside to do anything. All of the sudden he felt all the love his felt for this boy erupting inside of him as he grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer. It was messy, weird and very awkward, but it was charming in some kind of way. Almost perfect, almost. It would've been if not for the walker who just emerged from around the corner, attracted by their fight, hungry and ready to attack.

Shots were fired from (Y/N)'s gun as he stood there focused on the monster, his lips all red and swollen from the kiss.

"You okay?" he asked carefully as if Carl was a wild animal easy to scare.

"Yeah" he only managed to say, still to stunned to speak.

"Good" he put his gun back into the holster and looked at the Grimes boy once again. "Next time you need help figuring something out just tell me, asshole"

#carl grimes x male reader #carl grimes x y/n #twd carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #twd fanfiction #carl grimes #the walking dead x reader #male reader

436 notes · View notes

stylesispunk · 10 months

Text

The great war | Part III |

"You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone, you said I have to trust more freely but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire"

Part 1 , Part 2, part 4,part 5 | masterlist

(gif credits to its owner)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2,8k>

series summary: After things fell apart it seemed that Joel and you were falling into pieces.

series warning: angst, established relationship (complicated though) hints to cheating, age gap (Reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), mentions of stillborn baby, please don't read if you feel it triggers.

A/n: I remind you that English is not my first language so please forgive any mistake. No proofreaded, sorry

During the following days, Joel made a great effort on giving Rhia the space she needed. He respected her wishes and retrained from reaching out constantly. It was incredibly difficult for him to keep doing it. They were under the same roof but not talking at all. What’s more, Ellie was the bridge of communication between them both and she was checking on both daily.

One night, Ellie found Joel sitting alone on the porch, staring at the moon. She approached him and sat beside him, offering companionship. “What’s on your mind, old man?” She asked.

“I miss her,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of pain. “I never told her this but I dreamt about her and the baby since the moment I knew she was pregnant” he took a deep breath “I told her I didn’t want to be a father and I took her with me during months in the danger, all that meanwhile she was carrying a baby” Joel looked at Ellie “You look after her better than me”

Ellie looked at him with a mix of sympathy.

“And when we finally arrived here, I thought a family could be possible, but you know what happened” his gaze still fixed on the moon.

“You know what Joel?” She said “I believe in love, even in this shitty world and you and Rhia were kind of disgusting” She smiled warmly at the memories she had of them.

Joel’s eyes flickered. There was hope in his heart.

In the middle of the night, Joel couldn’t sleep, so he went to the living room to distract himself with something else to do. Suddenly, Rhia entered to the room, her eyes widen at the sight of Joel there. She walked past him without a word, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Joel was unable to contain the tension, and followed her into the kitchen

“How are you?” He asked

Rhia tensed at the closeness of Joel; her hands trembled as she placed the glass of water on the counter “I’m fine” she replied, her voice steady “Just couldn’t sleep”

Joel nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pointing at her stomach.

Rhia instinctively, placed her hand over the scar, a mixture of emotions crossing her mind, the knife, the wound, her daughter who used to be there.

“It’s healing” she replied, shortly

“I’m sorry” Joel whispered, guilt gnawing at him

“For what? Leaving me alone, saying those hurtful things or for your friend” she said asked, voice lace with sarcasm.

Joel took a deep breath “Everything”

Rhia looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and disappointment. “You should have told me” She whispered “Shit I know I was-am sad, and I will be for a long time, but you avoiding me…I know I did push you away too, but you should have talked to me, not her”

“I can’t change what I did” he said, his voice breaking “But we can work on us together?”

Rhia’s heart softened as she looked into Joel’s eyes, seeing the pain he also carried.

Rhia reached out to touch his hand but before she could even do it, she stepped back and crossed her arms trying to steady herself “I know” Rhia took a deep breath “I want to believe you. I do believe you, but words are not enough”

Joel nodded at her.

“You know? I think it would be better for me if stay in another place...-

“No, Rhia…Ellie would kill me” he interrupted.

“Joel…I think is weird for us to be living in the same house when we’re not together” she said

“I’ll move out. I could stay at Tommy’s…Please just stay here, at least for Ellie” he pleaded. “You should go back to sleep”

Rhia nodded, offering him a small smile “I’ll try”

Rhia turned to leave the kitchen, and as she reached the doorway, she turned back to look back at Joel. She decided not to say anything and made her way back to her room instead, her mind filled with thoughts.

During the next days, Rhia spent time helping in the community and going back to her old activities, one of them being at the bar. She found herself lost in thought, processing her feelings, the pain he carried, and Joel. He had left the house three days ago; it was the first time they were apart since the day they met and it felt strange.

Lucy had been watching her from the distance, feeling the anger of only looking at her. She made the choice of approach to her, frustration and anger evident in her eyes. She finally made up her mind and walked up to Rhia.

As Lucy, approached Rhia, her footsteps were hesitant but determined. Rhia didn’t notice Lucy’s closeness until she was standing in front of her. Startled, Rhia looked up at Lucy.

“Lucy?” Rhia said surprised. “Do you need something?

Lucy took a deep breath, trying to control her own feelings

“We need to talk” she said, voice laced with hatred.

Rhia looked up, taken aback at Lucy’s tone.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“What’s wrong?! Rhia, you re infuriating! “Lucy exclaimed

Rhia’s eyes widened in surprised at her tone

Lucy took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions, but her anger was stronger.

“You know the only reason Joel and I are not together is because of you?” She lied. She still wanted her chance with Joel.

Rhia’s eyes narrowed at Lucy’s words, feeling a surge of anger and hurt. That was a lie, wasn’t it?

“That’s not true, Lucy,” she said, her voice completely steady

“Oh, but it is” she continued lying, “He told me. He actually felt pity for you and for what happened to you, baby”

Rhia’s heart pounded in her chest, torn between disbelief and anger. She wasn’t believing that words.

“You’re sick in the head” Rhia said, trying to steady her voice

Lucy smirked “You two are not even living together anymore! You’re stealing my chance with him! You left him and now he doesn’t want to be around me because of you” her face contorted with anger.

Rhia’s emotions were a mix all over the place, she was tired of this bullshit.

“You’re delusional” Rhia shot back; voice laced with frustration

Lucy took a step closer “You think you’re perfect, don’t you? But I could give him the family you never will”

Rhia’s heart sank at Lucy’s words. Her anger was replaced by deep shame and sadness.

“He didn’t even want that baby of yours, did he?”

Rhia’s eyes blazed with indignation. Lucy’s cruel words were taking the best of her. Tears welled up in Rhia’s eyes at the mention of her tiny baby, but she refused to cry in front of her.

“You know, Rhia? In a world like this, you need to be strong and you are not in a good place” Lucy said, voice laced with venom “You don’t deserve Joel”

Those words cut deep; Rhia’s felt her heart break a little more.

“And you’re the one saying this?” She took a step closer, Rhia had enough of Lucy “You, the one who has always been inside these walls?” her voice defensive “You have never seen the things I’ve seen, you’ve never done the things I had to do, so don’t come here to tell me I’m weak”

Lucy seemed taken aback by Rhia’s words, but she regained her composure.

“You’re trying to convince yourself you are better- “

“I had enough,” Rhia said, voice raising “The world is over and you are here trying to have a man who doesn’t want to be with you, so if you excuse me. I’ll keep doing what I was doing before you came here” Rhia turned on her heels to go.

“At least I wouldn’t get my baby killed” Lucy called out; she knew her words were cruel but she wanted to hurt the woman.

Rhia froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. Lucy’s words cut like a knife.

Turning back to face Lucy, Rhia’s eyes were filled with fury “You have no right- “

Before she could continue, she noticed Lucy’s eyes widened. When Rhia turned back, she saw Joel standing behind her, anger in his eyes.

Joel stepped forward; his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes bore into Lucy with disappointment “Enough” he said, firmly “I won’t stay here watching you say all this bullshit to Rhia”

Lucy’s bravery weakened in Joel’s presence, but she still tried to defend herself “I didn’t lie”

Joel shook his head “Using her” he chocked “Our pain to hurt her is cruel”

Rhia couldn’t hold back her frustration any longer and turned to leave, her emotions were overwhelming.

“Rhia, wait” Joel called after her, reaching out to grab her hand gently. How good it felt to touch her again.

Rhia stopped, her heart beating heart. Being this close to Joel after all these days felt overwhelming. Rhia felt a mix of relief and anger “Why would she do that”?

“She acted out of desperation and jealousy” he explained trying to keep Rhia calm

Rhia took a deep breath, trying to process his words

Rhia’s emotions were in turmoil.

“Why would she be so jealous and desperate?” Rhia asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

Joel’s heart felt heavy.

Rhia looked into Joel’s eyes; her own eyes filled with frustration.

“Because you made her believe she was important to you”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice gentle but filled with regret.

Rhia hugged herself tightly, feeling a surge of protectiveness over their lost child and their relationship

“I don’t even care about her, I-what hurts the most is how you acted after Daisy”

Joel’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected her to name their baby.

“I didn’t know you named her” Joel said softly “I wish you had told me”

Rhia looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “She deserved a name”

Joel reached out to wipe away Rhia’s tears, he didn’t want to be the cause of her sadness anymore.

“I needed you” Rhia said, her voice finally breaking “I cried myself to sleep alone and you were there with—”

Joel pulled Rhia close, embracing her tightly

“Get off of me, Joel”

His heart sank at Rhia’s reaction.

“You made a mess of me” her face filled with a mix of emotions.

“I was wrong, and I can’t change what I did but I want to make it right” Joel admitted

Rhia let out a deep and frustrated sigh “It’s not that simple and I don’t know if I can forgive you right now.

Joel reached out and took her hand gently “I will be here from now on”

Rhia didn’t respond, but this time she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned on Joel

He smiled against her head “I’ll do whatever it takes to have our family back”

Rhia didn’t say anything. They stood there in silence for a moment, their feeling hanging heavy in the air.

“I-I have to go” she said, pulling away

Joel nodded “Okay”

Rhia took a deep breath trying to steady her emotions.

As she turned to leave, Joel softly grabbed her wrist pulling her into a hug, again. Rhia, surprised by this action, hugged him back. She only wanted her old time with Joel for a few seconds. He kissed her forehead gently, cherishing the closeness they had at that moment.

When they parted ways, Rhia gave him a small nod.

“Take care, Joel”

On the following day, the sun rose over the small town, casting a warm touch lingering on the skin, even in the coldness of the day, Joel found himself marching towards Tommy’s in the kitchen.

Stepping inside, Joel was greeted by Tommy, who appeared calm despite Joel’s dementor. It was evident he was angry at him.

“What the hell did you have in mind, Tommy?!” Joel’s voice carried anger

“Good morning, Joel” Tommy reply, simply.

“Sending Rhia alone on a mission for supplies?” He asked dumfounded “Do I have to remind you last time she almost died?

Tommy sighed; he understood his brother concerns “Before you hit me or something, it was her who offered”

Joel, taken aback asked “She...offered? “

Tommy nodded “Yes, it’s only a search for resources” he explained, hoping this could help Joel to understand.

“That doesn’t mean you should have agreed to it! I won’t let her and she is out of her mind if she thinks I’m letting her go”

Tommy nodded, acknowledging Joel’s protectiveness over Rhia

“Then go with her” he said

“Of course, I will” Joel said resolutely, determined.

Tommy nodded, smiling at his older brother's stubbornness.

“God. She is gonna punch me in the face” Tommy said

“She’ll understand” Joel admitted.

“No, she’ll get mad, at you the most” Tommy said.

As the pair made their way to the stables, Joel’s heart raced.

“You know what? Tommy stopped. “You should take this chance to fix thins with Rhia?”

Joel nodded, remaining silent.

As they stepped inside, Rhia turned toward them. Her eyes rolled when she saw Joel; she knew what he was doing.

“What he doing here?” She asked, directly at Tommy.

Tommy exchanged a look with Joel before addressing the elephant in the room.

“He is going with you” he said

Rhia’s expression softened slightly, but a frustration still lingering in her features.

“I can take care of myself” She replied, voice irritated.

“I know, but you both are a team” he said looking at them.

“I think Joel doesn’t know that” she said, sarcastically.

“Oh my god Rhia! Of course, I know” he retorted, frustration in his voice.

Rhia rolled her eyes “Really? Last time I checked, you were a team with other people” Her voice, lingering with jealousy

His jaw clenched, Joel took a deep breath “Look, if you don’t want me to go, you can go right now, but I’m still following you”

Rhia crossed her arms, her expression softening “Okay”

“You know how I feel about your safety” Joel added

Rhia’s gaze locked with his “Thank you, but I can take care of myself too”

“I know” He replied “But after last time…I won’t risk losing you again”

Rhia smile, timidly

As they shared an intimate moment, Tommy interrupted, calling them over.

“Can you kiss already and go?” He spoke

Joel and Rhia blushed at Tommy’s interruption.

“Be safe out there” Tommy added.

“Hey, Tommy” Rhia called “While we were out there, take care of Ellie” she said.

Tommy nodded “Of course, I will keep her safe” he smiled “Now, go and take care. Ellie and I will be here waiting for you”

With a final nod, Joel and Rhia mounted their horses and set off to their mission and ventured out of the safety of Jackson.

Joel and Rhia rode side by side, their horses’ hooves echoing through the eerily silence of the desolate world, the tension between them both still filling the air. The world around them seemed to hold the same rust of silence growing between them.

Joel stole a glance at Rhia, she was deep in thought.

“Rhia?” Joel spoke breaking the silence.

Rhia looked at him expectantly. Joel reached out gently touching her arm.

“Thank you for allowing me to come here” he said

“You’re my partner” she said “Even when we are not together anymore”

Joel’s heart sunk at those last words and remained silent.

Principio del formulario

As they explored the reminiscing of the place looking for resources, night enveloped them. They found shelter in an old rusting house. Joel set up a small bonfire, providing them with warmth and light.

“It’s hard to believe this was once a home” she said softly, interrupting the silence.

Joel reminded silence, his eyes locked on Rhia’s face, glistening in the firelight. He was lost on her. His heart swelled with love for the woman in front of him. After all that happened, he had forgotten how lucky he was to have her in this world.

“Rhia” Joel began “You’re my rock, you know that?” Joel said softly.

Rhia looked at him, her eyes shimmering in the light. She smiled softly, but didn’t reply. Instead, she settled down beside Joel, shoulder touching. Them both staring into the flames of the campfire.

“I mean it” He spoke

Joel turned his head to look at her, their eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken words and deep connection.

Joel gently reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Rhia’s face as they locked their eyes “I love you” he whispered.

Rhia’s heart skipped a beat, and a soft smile appeared on her face. They leaned closer, their foreheads touching.

They leaned in, almost kissing. Joel could almost feel her lips on his

“Do you really think a kiss will solve all this?” She said barely touching his lips, voice laced with teasing.

Rhia’s smile grew, and she pulled back.

Joel let out a disappointed sigh.

It seemed like things weren’t going to be that easy for him.

A/N: I don't know what I wrote, but I hope you liked it a little bit. Thank you so much for reading and please, comment, reblog or ask me anything,

All the best.

taglist:

@joeldjarin

144 notes · View notes

romancingromanoff · 1 year

Text

This is a Life

Andy of Scythia x f!reader

Summary: You end up escaping an arranged marriage set up by your abusive mother in a strange way.

TW: Verbal/physical child abuse (child is now over 18 but it is implied that it has been going on for some time), arranged/forced marriage, 1950′s typical homophobia, somewhat graphic death/injuries, accidental suicide?

Words: 4225

A/N: Hello I am alive! I’ve been wanting to get back into writing recently and I’ve been disappointed by the lack of Andy x reader content on here so here’s my contribution. More marvel stuff is in the works starting with Thena from Eternals!

“It’s my life!”

“And you are my daughter! You will do this if you wish to remain a part of this family!”

“I told you I won’t marry him!”

A cold hand hits your left cheek.

You were fighting with your mother yet again as the two of you had constantly done for the past 23 years, which was way too long for you to still be living under her roof according to societal standards. While you were inclined to agree, being forced to marry a man in six weeks was not how you wanted to escape.

On paper, you supposed Nicholas Turner was the perfect match, basically everything you could ever ask for in a husband. His wealth certainly appealed to your mother, though he was also kind and considerate with a pleasant looking face others might find attractive.

Unlike those that had briefly tried to court you in the past, what really set Nicholas apart was that he seemed to truly care for you and respect your opinions. There certainly weren’t very many men like him in the 1950’s who didn’t immediately insult your intelligence or worth as a member of the lesser sex.

Not too far into your relationship was when you were finally forced to come to terms with a fear that had been looming over you since your teenage years. It had been easy to tell yourself you were still normal when all the suitors you rejected were immature little boys with stunted emotional development and only seemed to be interested in your body. You could tell yourself that no woman would ever settle for such disrespect in a lifelong partner.

However, you knew there was no denying that Nick was everything you should ever want in a man. You waited for those butterflies you had heard about from your friends to fill you whenever he asked to hold your hand or guide you by the arm for a stroll. But those bubbling feelings of love never came no matter how much you tried to force them. And if they couldn’t show up for Nick, you knew that no man could summon them at all.

The only person that had ever excited you in that way was another girl a few grades above you in school. She tutored you in math for two summers and lived just down the street. You had never felt so drawn to anyone else before.

“I have three brothers so it’s nice that we can spend some time together, just us girls,” she had said. You couldn’t agree more.

As your friendship grew, rumors about her older brother being a… sexual degenerate spread throughout the neighborhood and your mother quickly forbade you from ever speaking to anyone in her family again. The last time you’d heard about your friend was when her parents had thrown her brother out of the house and cut all contact with him.

No part of you wanted to believe that your friend had agreed with their actions but what if she had? What would she say if she were to ever find out about your true feelings for her? She would surely be just as disgusted as your mother.

“Yes. You. Will. You think this is your life? Well I gave it to you and I can just as easily take it away!”

You weren’t too certain about that after the strange events that took place the day before. Another argument with your mother turned violent and she started throwing some of her empty bottles at you. Although none of them hit their target, one flew through the back window and caused glass to shatter everywhere.

After cleaning up inside the house, you made your way outside to assess whatever damage certainly awaited you there. What you hadn’t been expecting to find was that one of the bottles hit a poor baby bunny not too far from the window. Falling on your knees in front of it, it pained you to watch as its small body twitched only a few times before ultimately turning as still as stone. The thought of leaving it there for other animals to pick on or carelessly throwing it in the trash didn’t seem right to you, so with a sigh you decided to find a shovel and dig it a small grave. It’s not like you were in a rush to face your mother so soon anyway.

The shed with the gardening tools hadn’t been organized since the warmer months. Coughing at the cloud of dust that immediately filled your lungs as the door squeaked open, you blindly staggered in the direction of the shovel, trying to feel for it with your hands, when your foot found a rake that was lying on the ground. The wooden pole smacked you dead in the middle of your face, forcing you to fly back like in one of those children’s cartoons that often played before the main films at the cinema. It sounded like a tornado was tearing through the shed.

All you could feel was pain spreading throughout your body. There was no doubt that your skull had cracked open as a gooey warmth began to soak your hair and pool down your neck. A sharp object also seemed to be lodged in your middle area and it quickly became difficult to breath or even remember what life was like before this agony.

You almost tried to call for help, hoping that your mother might at least be decent enough not to wish for your death, but something about that idea stopped you. What would she even be saving you from exactly? You knew you were dying as a strange numbness began to take over all your senses, yet a part of you seemed to be at peace with what was to come.

Lying about who you were for the rest of your life was worse than a death sentence in its own way. Maybe this could be your mercy if happiness was never attainable for someone like you. Maybe this was for the best.

There was absolute darkness and a sense of peace that seemed to stretch on forever. Suddenly, all of that shattered as oxygen forcefully filled your lungs. Something inexplicable had brought you back.

While your body still ached, a quick assessment helped you conclude that your injuries had healed almost miraculously. Your skull was awfully bloody but definitely smooth and in one piece. Slowly sitting up, you discovered that a long pair of garden shears is what had impaled your abdomen where you were certain a few of your vital organs must have been torn.

You were covered in both dried blood and newly formed skin with no idea how any of it was possible. The only thing you could think of doing was running back into the house to wash yourself off.

Darkness had covered the sky by then and you knew your mother must have been asleep by that point. Initially that made you feel relieved that you could dodge any questions she had until morning. However, as you scrubbed the leftover blood and sweat from your body, the fact that she must not have been concerned at all dawned on you. You had died out in the shed and where had she been?

“No, you don’t get to hurt me anymore!” You shook your head and stood your ground with a newfound sense of power only coming back from the dead could have given you. “You don’t get to control me like I’m your puppet! I’m not going to marry him or anyone else you try to push on me either. I’ve known this for a long time and I think you have too. But I can’t because I’m–”

“NO! No, I will not hear this nonsense again! I have things from the store I need to pick up and I expect all of this sudden change in attitude to be over when I get back. Or I will be beating you everyday until it’s your husband’s problem!”

Somehow her words managed to hurt you more than any physical attack could. You tried your best to hold in your tears as she gathered her purse and keys before slamming the front door behind her, but your eyes began stinging just as you retreated to your bedroom. This time, your instincts were successfully able to guide you on where to step.

You don’t know how long you stood there, disassociating and losing track of the time as you urged yourself not to cry.

A hand landed on your shoulder and caused an instinctive shudder to roll through your body. “Please, don’t!” You whimpered at the contact which you expected came from your mother.

“I’m not here to hurt you. But I need you to trust me.”

You turned and your eyes shot up. The speaker of the voice was unlike any other person you had ever seen. Her hair was cut extremely short, like the style Audrey Hepburn was known for, but with no makeup or bold lip color she appeared more boyish. She was also very tall for a woman, about as tall as some men you knew, though it didn’t scare you to stand beside her like it would with them. It was subtle, but sometimes you felt like they relied on their height advantage to make sure you were on a lower peg than them.

This woman was different with the way she assessed you with a lack of judgment. Something told you that she was worried about scaring you, not wanting to come off like she was sizing you up. You could see it in her eyes and god were they gorgeous. They were a mesmerizing shade that made you believe you were seeing the color for the very first time. You would gladly let the woman hypnotize you with those glowing pools of green.

“Who are you?” Your voice shook even though you could sense she didn’t wish to harm you.

She kept her voice calm and steady. “My name is Andromache of Scythia. But you can call me Andy.”

Andy? Andy. Hearing the name caused something to resurface in your mind. Not quite a song or a memory but something you had definitely heard recently. A man had been screaming that name as you felt him die.

“I’ve seen you before. I dreamed you were trying to save a man. A friend. Two other people were there as well. You were all surrounded. You were dying.”

“There are five of us now, including you, and we all do the same thing. We die and come back. And I know you probably have a lot of questions, which I promise I can answer, but you need to pack some clothes and come with me now.”

“Go with you? Where?”

You had been on a rollercoaster once as a child. It was a tall wooden one with a large loop that initially made you change your mind about riding it. That was before your mother informed you she had already bought your tickets and wasn’t about to let the money go to waste. The fear rose within your stomach with every inch the giant wooden coffin you rode in crept higher and higher into the domain of the clouds and birds. Every voice in your head screamed that you weren’t supposed to be here. A part of you was so terrified that you considered reaching for your mother’s hand. As if she would comfort you.

But then you finally made it to the top. All you could think about as you saw the sun setting on the horizon was how badly you wished you could chase it. And then you did. The ride dropped and your fears dissipated as laughter escaped from your body instead. For the first time ever, you could taste a sense of freedom.

That’s what it felt like when Andy reached for your chin and gently brushed the back of two of her other fingers against the cheek most recently marked by your mother. You weren’t entirely sure what the future looked like with her, yet you were eager to find out and explore all the possibilities opening up before you. No one had ever held you with such tenderness and care while also making you feel protected and safe. You watched as the woman’s eyes flickered from your cheek to your slightly parted lips before she withdrew her touch. It left you feeling empty.

“The woman that hurts you will be coming back any minute now,” she announces quickly before she starts darting around your room. She pulls out a suitcase from your closet and stares at you expectantly, like she needed you to move as if the house was on fire. “We need to leave before that happens.”

“My mother? She’s done terrible things but she’s still my mother. I can’t just leave without letting her know.”

“What’s your name?” Andy asks you. You tell her.

“Y/N, please listen to me,” she sets the suitcase down on your bed before taking your hands into hers. A part of your soul leaves your body right then and there. “Individuals like your mother have hurt you your entire life when you should have been protected. I’m so sorry no one stood up for you before. You didn’t deserve any of that. But now even more people that want to harm you are going to be on our trail as soon as they find out who and what you are. Now that I’ve found you, I can protect you. Me and the other three guys on our team. So please, come with me so that I can keep you safe.”

“Y/N?! Come help me!” Your mother’s shrill voice rings through the house.

“Pack quickly, I’ll hold her off,” Andy urgently reaches for something in her pocket which is when you realize she’s had a knife on her this whole time. Your eyes go wide.

“Wait! Please don’t hurt her! I’ll go with you but you can’t hurt her. That’s my only condition, I swear.”

You haven’t known her for long. You wish you could spend the next hundred years studying her face and getting to know everything there is to know about her. But somehow, you can still tell that something breaks inside her because of your pleading. She holds your gaze for the shortest eternity before nodding back at you.

“Okay,” she promises. You can tell she’s going to be true to her word. “But you have to follow my lead. When I say we need to leave, we leave.”

“Okay.”

You scramble to pack the most important things that come to your mind. A family picture of you, your mother, and your sister. The bracelet that your grandmother gave you. Your drawing notepad. It’s not too difficult to decide what clothes you bring as you have no real attachment to any specific pieces.

Echoes of your mother marching down the hall cause you to freeze up instantly. There’s one last thing you need to grab and of course it has to be in the trickiest place to get to.

“There’s a box of letters under the rug and the floorboard right here. Can you please get it? I’ll talk to her.” Andy nods before you dart out a small crack in your door and quickly close it behind you. It brings you face to face with your warden and the only obstacle that stands in your way of escape.

“What are you doing in there? I expect you to help me bring in my bags from the car. Are you going deaf or do I need to slap some more sense into you?”

“I’m leaving,” you manage to blurt out before fear stops you from changing your mind.

“You’re what?”

“I’m leaving. I’m not marrying Nicholas. I can’t and I won’t.”

“This again? How much longer will you insist on acting like a petulant child? I demand you stop this nonsense at once!”

“No. I’m leaving and you won’t get to control my life anymore.”

A look that you can only describe as amused appears on the woman’s face as she gives you a scoff. “Oh really? And where do you think you’ll go with no car or money to your name? I know you’re nervous about the wedding but-”

“I will never marry him or any other man either!” This was the first time you had ever raised your voice this loud and it was having quite the effect on both of you. The woman in front of you was completely stunned at your change in demeanor, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“I’m not like you! And I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. For so long, I’ve tried to feel the way I know I’m supposed to feel about boys but I simply can’t. And I think a part of me has always known that I’m-”

The swift sound of a crack silences you, though you don’t exactly register the pain straight away like normal. You bring a finger to your lower lip and it comes black with a droplet of blood. A second later, you touch the same spot and it’s completely healed.

“Silence! You’ll shut your mouth right this instant if you know what’s good for you. These ideas of… of perverse behavior aren’t you. You’re obviously ill and need to see a doctor immediately.”

“No mother, I-” You’re interrupted once again, although this time as your bedroom door swings open you aren’t scared of being struck or hurt. Andy’s presence alone means you are protected.

“Your items are secure. We need to leave now,” she takes a firm hold of your waist and pulls you closer to her body. From the threatening look she’s throwing at your mother you can tell that your presence is the only thing keeping the much taller and stronger woman from breaking out into a fight. Although, calling it that felt entirely wrong as it implied your mother would be able to stand a chance at winning.

“Excuse me?” The older woman spat like she had nearly swallowed a fly. “Who is-... Who do you think you are and how dare you come into my house!”

“Lady, all you need to know is that I’m the one that’s going to be doing what you’ve failed to do and actually protect your daughter from now on. Unless you want this to get violent, I would suggest stepping out of our way.”

No one had ever spoken to your mother that way and had anyone but Andy been foolish enough to yell at her, you would be worrying for their safety. But even after five minutes of knowing her, it was clear that Andy wasn’t easily swayed by a few empty threats.

“I–... Oh, now I understand everything completely. You must be the one that has corrupted my daughter with these wicked thoughts! Y/N, you can’t possibly believe this… this stranger intends to do anything but manipulate you! Whatever feelings you think you may have for her are wrong and can be corrected. I don’t want you to end up like this disgusting degenerate!”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” Your anger spikes hearing the venom in her words. Andy may or may not be immune to them but that doesn’t mean you can’t be offended on her behalf. “She actually respects me and treats me like a human being!”

“So what? Your plan is to run away together and go where? Do what? You are nothing without me and you know it! Since you were born-”

An involuntary scream leaves your body as the taller woman moves like a flash of light. Before she can even process anything, your mother falls to the floor into an unconscious slump at your feet.

“Oh my God.” It seems almost impossible to tear your eyes away from the sight before you. You’ve never seen someone so… still. Then it dawns on you that she might be…

“She’s just unconscious,” Andy cups your face in her hands and you’re forced to look at her, ”I promise. She’ll be fine but we have to go now.”

Nodding, the two of you set off like there’s still someone on your trail. For a few seconds you’re able to look back at your mother one last time. The woman that gave birth to you. Raised you. Hit you. Broke you. She’ll never be able to hurt you again.

You breathe a barely audible “goodbye” to her, wondering where you’ll be by the time she wakes up. There’s the tiniest twinge of guilt at the thought of her actually missing you when she does, yet with every step you make towards your new future you yearn to speed up.

Andy guides you straight to the front door and outside into the rain. The two of you don’t stop until you reach a car around the corner that she unlocks for you. Your body is cold and numb, which the other woman immediately notices and she tries to drape your body with a thin blanket from the backseat after she starts the engine. You doubted that this car had any heating but couldn’t care too much about that.

“Thank you,” you’re able to mutter. “I’m sorry she… about those things she said.”

“Y/N, you have nothing to apologize for. You are in no way responsible for her actions.”

You could get used to hearing Andy say your name like that. She had a way of saying it that reminded you how it was your very own. How you were your own person.

“No, I do, Andy. At least let me say this for my own peace. You got dragged into something that should have stayed between us and she made some wrongful assumptions about you. You are completely right to feel offended or upset with me. And now that you know that I’m… Well, it seems you know more about me than almost anyone else. What I mean to say is that I understand if you’re disgusted by me.”

Much to your surprise, the brunette calmy pulled the car over to stop on the side of the road so that she could better face you. Fear that she might ask you to get out flickered in your heart for a second, but then she carefully took your hand into her own, holding it so tenderly.

“Y/N, everything that I said in there still stands. I care about you and I want to protect you. And for the record, not that anyone else’s opinion but your own matters, I see nothing wrong with you. You love the way you love, that’s nothing to be ashamed about. You deserve all the happiness the world can give you, which is what I’m willing to fight for.”

The buildup of emotions from the past 24 hours combined with the softness in her words is enough to strip you of your very last defenses. Your vision blurs, though the slight stinging in your eyes is admittedly therapeutic. Andy, however, only grows more concerned for you based on the look on her face.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you promise her and crack a smile. “It’s just strange to have someone that cares about me. The real me, I mean. There must be some way I can repay you for everything.”

She analyzed you with such curiosity that it’s impossible to tell what sort of thoughts are running through her head. Her other hand slowly moves to move a stray hair from your face. You doubt she meant for the contact to feel so intimate, yet you relish in the tiny sprinkles of touch she gives you.

Andy releases a deep sigh. “You don’t have to repay me for anything. We’re a team now and that means we take care of each other.”

Of course you had forgotten there was a team, meaning there were more of you she must have been referencing aside from yourself. It felt stupid to think she could have felt differently about you after knowing each other for less than a day. And what were the chances she would even see you in that way?

“Right,” you struggle to wipe the tears from your face. “I guess I should learn about the others then. When will we be introduced?”

“Soon, I promise.” Andy goes to restart the car and you notice her chuckle as she begins to speed up to get back on the road. “I think you’ll really like them, actually. We all have a lot in common so there’s no chance they won’t immediately like you like I do.”

You swear that you almost died for a second time from a heart attack.

“You mean besides being able to come back from the dead?” You tried to play it cool, hoping she wouldn’t notice how nervous you suddenly were.

“Actually, yes. It’s about a three hour drive from here so you can get some sleep if you want. I know you must be exhausted.”

You can’t really protest when a yawn immediately escapes after the mere mention of a nap. So you drift away, driving off toward your new life, with Andy’s hand safely cradling yours.

#andromache the scythian x reader #andy the scythian x reader #andromache of scythia #the old guard #one shot #andy the scythian #the old guard x reader #fluff #andy #charlize theron #andy x reader #andromache x reader

211 notes · View notes

loveandmurders · 2 years

Note

I fucking love your Ambrose sister Hc<33

but I’m in the mood for something sad because I’ve been down a bit

Bo Sinclair who had a horrible, atrocious, fight with his sister to a point he said “I Wish you Were Never Born”

And the reader just leaves the house crying and doesn’t return for weeks and everyone in the Ambrose house is worried because she isn’t home. Then some fluff in the end<33

I had i fight like this with my own brother I didn’t come back home for 2 months, but now we’re all good <3

If you feel uncomfortable doing this request ignore it!!

Love ur content sm have a great day 🫶🏽🫶🏽💕

Hello love, I'm really happy you are enjoying this AU <3 I also hope you'll feel better soon <3 Honestly I got carried away with that request because it was something I already wanted to write (thank you for having given me the right excuse to do so). So it'll be in 2 parts, and the fluff will only be at the end of the second part.

I really hope you'll enjoy this very angsty writing <3

And if you want to check more of this AU or my other fics, my masterlist is here. To understand better this fic, you should go check the Sinclair sister headcanons!

I WISH I WAS BETTER FOR YOU (Part I)

Warnings: Bo being really angry and toxic to Vincent and you, pure angst, some strong words, morally grey reader.

You knew it wasn’t going to be a very nice day when you woke up and Bo and Vincent were already arguing in the kitchen. Bo would usually calm down once you would sit down at the table to take your own breakfast, but he didn’t even acknowledge you this morning. You didn’t try to understand what was going on; you could tell Bo was just feeling a lot worse than usual and therefore he needed to let go of his anger in a way or another. You were used to him bursting in anger like that, but it wasn’t that often that he would yell and be so mad for such a long period of time. In the end, you barely ate and quickly did the dishes before disappearing. It wasn’t nice to leave Vincent alone with Bo, you knew it, but there wasn’t much you could do and the situation was upsetting you. You hoped there would be some tourists today so he could hurt them instead of screaming at his own siblings. The only proof he loved his family was that it never ended in physical abuse, but the insults and all were already too much. You didn’t want to believe he was toxic, even though you knew he was. At the same time, it wasn’t like your brothers had the healthiest way to earn money and you couldn’t even pretend to be disgusted: you didn’t care about the tourists they killed. You just wanted your family to be happy and Bo to feel better.

You couldn’t believe that a few nights ago, when it was only Vincent and you in his basement, you had been talking about living all the time at Ambrose. You had found a new job, not so far from there so it would be alright to do the travel everyday. Vincent had been quite excited about the idea and he had tried very hard to convince you to let go of your flat and to live with them. He was certain things would be so much better that way. He added that you were spending all your weekends there anyways, and most of your evenings. You could always go to your friends' houses if you needed to stay out of town for work or a party. There were also a lot of hotels around. And if something happened with Bo, you could always take possession of one of the abandoned houses lying around Ambrose. Vincent even promised you he would remove the wax statues that might be in the house you picked, so it wouldn’t creep you out. You noticed that if Vincent wasn’t as direct as Bo, the man was also craving to have his whole family under the same roof. You wondered if it was because he thought things would be easier with Bo or if it was because he also was a family man (to a lesser extent than Bo). Anyways you were slowly thinking it might be a good idea to move back in.

The night before you even decided to announce this news the next morning, and Vincent had felt he had been very close to convincing you. But the ambiance and yelling changed your mind right away. And when Vincent saw you leaving the kitchen without a word, he knew it. He silently cursed Bo for having fucked this up. They had been so close to having their favourite baby sister home with them. They could have hoped to have Lester a lot more often there as well. But Bo was too full of rage to notice anything else today. His chest was heavy. He couldn’t really tell what was wrong, maybe too many things, he just felt very bad and he couldn’t quiet down his anger. It was a vicious circle: the angrier he was, the worst he felt, and the angrier he was getting. Plus, his siblings were family, so he didn’t think either of you would turn your back to him, no matter what he could do to you. He was wrong.

You had been very quiet today and when Vincent came to you in order to know if you were still up to stick around, even if he already knew the answer, you simply shook your head. It really saddened him; he understood, of course he did, but he needed you around. He hugged you before leaving to go to work. He didn’t want to make you feel guilty so he promised himself he wouldn’t say anything anymore about it. He just hoped you would change your mind soon again. At the same time, you were indeed quite upset with yourself but you didn’t want to live like that. You even sent a little message to let Lester know that today wasn’t a good day and that it would be a good idea if he could find some tourists to send to Ambrose. Lester instantly replied he was going to do his best and that if you wanted he could come get you and drive you back to your flat.

You really didn’t think you would have to ask him that; you wanted to be strong for your brothers. You knew that leaving would make things even worse with Bo, but in the end, he really hadn’t given you the choice…

Lester hadn’t found any tourists that day and Bo was really on edge. Vincent and you were trying your best to stay away from him. You were on the couch of the living room, reading and minding your own business. You jumped when the front door violently opened. Bo was in the room in no time, clearly bored and still very upset. He needed someone to abuse or he would go crazier. You weren’t used to him being abusive with you though, so you weren’t afraid of him.

“What’s wrong Bo?” you finally asked because you couldn’t bear the situation any longer. He sent you a dirty look, which was rare. He was always softer when it was about you, because you were his baby sister. But today he wasn’t in a good enough mood to remember to be kinder with you.

“Don’t know, maybe havin’ a lazy stupid sister who ain’t helpin’ with anythin’ in the house” he snapped and you frowned. You would never let him talk to you like that.

“What did ya say?” you asked as you put your book down and stood up. “I cleaned up ‘round! Plus it’s the weekend, if I wanted I could be away from here.”

“Oh thank ya my lady for honourin’ us of your presence” he replied with a tone full of mockery and anger.

“I can fuckin’ leave if that’s what ya want!” you exclaimed

“Don’t give a fuck of what ya’re doin’! Ya’re useless bitch, always has been anyways” he continued.

“Oh yeah? Well sorry for botherin’ ya then!” you were getting angrier as well because his words were hurting you more than you wanted to admit it. It was slicing deep into your heart and own insecurities. You were trying to believe he wasn’t thinking any of what he said. You knew Bo could throw things at your face and barely remembered what he said once he was calming down. Or maybe he did remember and acted as if it was nothing, because he didn’t truly mean it and he had no idea what to do to make things better or to apologise. Either way you knew it would be better once he would feel better. And hopefully it would be sooner rather than later.

“Ya’re a fuckin’ burden, ya know that? Ain’t aroun’ when ya’re needed, ain’t doin’ nothin’ when ya’re finally here. Don’t even know why ‘m tryin’ to get ya here when ya’re not. Would live better without ya!” he wasn’t yelling anymore, his voice was oddly calm while helding pure rage and hatred into it. He never talked to you that way before and it sobered you up from your own anger. You wanted to beg Bo to stop saying that kind of thing. You loved your brothers more than anything, and they were the only people truly able to hurt you. You stayed silent for a few instants, which was never happening when you were arguing with Bo. Usually, the whole house could hear the two of you and you would only stop by storming away from each other. But it was different, you were standing in front of him, tears in the eyes, your heart aching like never before. What would you do if the only people you truly loved didn’t want you anymore ?

“Is that really what ya think of me?” you asked him and you truly hoped he would calm down, and hugged you and told you that of course not, that he didn’t know why he said this when he loved you so much…

But he didn’t.

“Wish ya were never fuckin’ born” he replied just at the moment of the basement door was cracking open. Vincent had been surprised by how quiet your argument with Bo had become so he was checking on the two of you. He heard his twin’s last words and it broke his heart. It broke it even more when he heard you started to cry. You ran away from Bo, ashamed to cry in front of him, and feeling pathetic and weak. You slammed the front door behind you as you continued to run away from the house now. You grabbed your phone and you dialled Lester’s number. You needed to be away from Ambrose.

Hey, darl, what’s up? Even hearing Lester’s voice didn’t bring you as much comfort as usual. You were a mess. You were trying very hard to not fully collapse here; you needed to be alone in your flat to cry to your heart's content and then to calm down.

“Come get me, please” you pleaded through a shaky voice.

What’s goin’ on? Lester asked, panicking as he could hear how terrible you were feeling. You heard his truck going faster.

“Just Bo bein’ an asshole” you replied as you sent a glance toward the house. Bo didn’t make you cry a lot in your life, but the few times it happened he was instantly softening up and trying his best to make it up to you. Usually, he couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you… This time, he didn’t even run after you. Maybe he was truly believing his words. Maybe you were a burden to him and he was fed up with seeing you around because you were useless. Maybe he didn’t love you anymore. You didn’t bring him any kind of happiness anymore. You were glad you hadn’t given your flat back, it was the only good thing in this whole story.

‘M sure he’ll come get ya in a few seconds, Lester replied, he knew how much Bo was adoring you.

“He won’t. Told me he wished I never existed ya know.” you told him and your voice broke then. Lester stayed silent because he couldn’t believe Bo would say something like that to you. To him or to Vincent, alright, but to you… You were off limits.

On my way, darl, almost there. He finally said and you whispered a thank you before hanging up.

You waited five minutes, alone. You sent another glance at the house and you saw Vincent and Bo arguing in the living room. It was getting pretty violent, but you didn’t care. You were aching way too much to come back and stop them. You were so relieved when Lester arrived and he jumped off his truck to rush to you. He tightly hugged you and gently rocked you as you cried into his chest. After a little while, he guided you to his truck and helped you climb into it. He was quick to leave Ambrose, his heart aching for you. You were softly sniffing, your eyes on your lap. You couldn’t remember having felt so bad your whole life… because usually, when something was wrong, your brothers were there for you.

“I’ll never come back” you whispered and Lester sent you a worried look.

“Don’t say that, darl.” he whispered back as he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently stroked your skin. “Bo ain’t knowin’ what he’s sayin’. He’s gonna call ya in the middle of the night, beggin’ ya to come back home, like he always does.” he told you and you softly nodded, hoping Lester would be right.

The thing was that Bo didn’t call you.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that night, staring at your phone with a heavy heart painfully beating inside your chest. Your stomach was a knot and your throat as well. You needed this call more than anything; it was as if your life was depending on it. You needed Bo to ask you to come back home, because if he didn’t, you wouldn’t. And it was breaking you even more to think you wouldn't have a home anymore then. Your flat wasn’t your home, it was just an easy place to go to work and to see friends, that was all. Your life was in Ambrose, by your brothers’ sides. But if they didn’t want you anymore, what would be left of you? You would just be pretending to live, when your soul and heart would be so far away from you. You needed Bo to tell you he still loved you. You weren’t sure you would be able to forgive him, but at least it meant you could come back home, at least to see Vincent.

You finally fell asleep and when you opened your eyes, at 8 o’clock, you had no missing call. You cried even more. Your whole body was bursting in sadness and despair. What were you going to do now? You continued to cry for hours, until you felt empty and that there were no tears left inside of you. You cuddled in your bed and you tried to calm down. Bo was a big part of your life, but if he didn't want you anymore, you could only obey. You could still easily see Lester, but Vincent…

As you thought about the masked twin, you received a message from him.

Sorry for yesterday… I should have been there for you, I should have kept Bo away from you. I promise you it won’t happen again. Bo is calmer today. He asked me how you were doing. I think he feels quite guilty about what happened. Can you come back home today?

You had no idea how many times you read that message over and over again. You knew Vincent could be very manipulative, maybe even more than Bo. You weren’t certain if he was only saying those things so you would come back home, or if Bo truly felt “guilty” about it. But it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted him to be sorry, you wanted him to tell you he loved you, you wanted him to tell you he didn’t mean what he said. He hurt you like he never did before. He didn’t call you. And now it was Vincent who was trying to put the pieces back together?

No. You were heartbroken and hurt and homesick already, but you couldn’t come back and pretend that nothing happened. You needed Bo to do something about it and to make you feel better.

Bo made it pretty clear he didn’t want me at Ambrose, have a good day Vincent.

You never sent such a harsh message to your brothers before but you also had traumas, just like Bo, and yet, you would never hurt them like Bo hurt you. You loved them, and Bo didn’t love you. Vincent didn’t answer you, probably at loss and silently wondering what he could do to make things back to normal.

But there was nothing he could do, and he knew it.

PART II

Taglist:

@6-6-6-riddler

@feathery-ass

444 notes · View notes

the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 1 year

Text

#346

“Hey boy get out here. This is my bud Scott. He and I go way back to my hauling days well before I married your momma and took the both of you in. Do you recognize him? No? Well he recognizes you. He said you sucked his dick down at the docks, and that he was one of many men who used you. That shocked panic look on your face tells me everything….

“Jesus fuck! Right before your momma passed away, she got me to promise her that I would take care of you. We knew you were queer. Hell, I’ve been fine with that. You know that. I’ve taken you to some parades. I went to your fundraisers. I supported you as if you were my own son. Your mom would have been proud.

“Now I hear that you are a faggot. And if you were servicing men at the docks, you were probably whored out by Big Dale. Am I right? You meet up with Big Dale and he brings the men to use your holes?... Answer me!... For fuck’s sake.

“I can’t believe it! I have a faggot whore under my roof in my home. How long have you been a faggot?... Don’t give me this ‘all my life’ shit. How long… Wait a minute. Do you know the difference between a queer and a faggot?... You don’t. A gay boy or a queer boy is what I thought you were, someone who goes to parades and shit like that. I thought you were going to find another gay boy to date or something. A faggot on the other hand is a whore to men. A faggot needs to serve men. No matter how the man wants to use or abuse a fag, the faggot complies. A faggot will get smacked around, pissed on, spit roasted, just to get the cum loads. Cum is the faggot’s motivation. Degradation, humiliation, and debasement is how it gets it. So again, are you a faggot?

“Aw, that nod was barely noticeable. You can do better than that. Just say it. We all know it’s true. Big Dale wouldn’t have taken you in if you weren’t ready to be used.

“About time you admit it. Jesus fuck. How long? How long have you been a faggot?... Four years? Fucking hell. I had a faggot living in my house for four years? I don’t fucking believe this….

“Why the fuck are you crying?... Oh for fuck’s sake. I ain’t going to kick you out. I didn’t when I knew you were gay, I’m not now. No, I would have treated you the way that you need to be treated. I would have been training you…

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute. You’re nineteen. And you have been a fag for four years. Since you were fifteen? Jesus Christ! Maybe it was for the better that I didn’t know. Don’t need nor want any of that underage bullshit. Oh my, all those men at the docks and wherever else you went to spread your legs were fucking you underage…. Shit. I’m not going think about that.

“Well starting today, you are my faggot. You are no longer my stepson Brett. You are Faggot or Cunt or whatever I feel like calling you. I’m going to be a controlling asshole to you going forward.

“Get the fuck naked. You will wear what I tell you, and that is nothing. You will do your chores, cook, yardwork, and so on naked.

“No hair?... Did Big Earl do that? Figured he would. You are to keep that up. Bow your head. You should limit your glances at your superiors.

“Your pecker is rock hard. Faggot you really are a faggot. OK. Here we go. I want you to bend over and grab your ankles. Show us your cunt…. Holy hell. That is one used cunt. You still have the cum stew in there from last night, or did you clean out when you got home last night?

“Scott, it’s going to be a mess. I can break out the hose to clean it out…. Thought so. Have at it.

“Faggot, Scott and I go way back, back to my truck driving days. We used to ride together and tag team faggots across the country. He knows how to handle a true faggot. You are going to with him for a four-day run. You will follow his orders. He will keep me informed of how you adapt to life as a faggot on a 24 hour a day. I need to make some adjustments to the house now that I have me a faggot. You’ll be moving down to the basement for starters. Got to get a rimseat. Shit like that. When you get in, I will break you in properly.

“Damn boy, you are really handling Scott’s beer can dick. If you think his is fat, just wait, mine is just as fat and two inches longer.”

322 notes · View notes

goodnightmemes · 7 months

Text

PRACTICAL MAGIC (1998) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ She knew that when you hear the sound of the deathwatch beetle the man you love is doomed to die. ❜

❛ In this house, we have chocolate cake for breakfast. We never bother with silly things like bedtimes or brushing our teeth. ❜

❛ So when you find yourself the center of attention, It's not that they hate you. It's that, well...We're different. ❜

❛ Even you have to admit, any man who gets involved with an Owens woman.is bound to end up 6 feet under. ❜

❛ My little witch, Iet's go inside and do some spells. ❜

❛ Be careful what you wish for. ❜

❛ I hope I never fall in love. ❜

❛ The guy I dreamed of doesn't exist. And if he doesn't exist, I'll never die of a broken heart. ❜

❛ I hate it here. I want to go where no one's even heard of us. ❜

❛ We'll grow old together. It'll be you and me living in a big house. These two old biddies with all these cats. I bet we even die on the same day. ❜

❛ Darling, when will you understand that being normal is not necessarily a virtue. It denotes a lack of courage. ❜

❛ It was the curse, wasn't it? He died because I loved him so much! ❜

❛ I've never asked you for anything! I never asked for spells, but do this! You can bring him back. ❜

❛ I don't care what he comes back as. As long as he comes back. ❜

❛ What's wrong with you? We do not cast. We do not toy with people's lives. This is not a game. ❜

❛ She has all this power and doesn't use it! ❜

❛ Sometimes I feel there's a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could hear the ocean. ❜

❛ The moon tonight, there's a circle around it. A sign of trouble not far behind. ❜

❛ But still, sometimes when the wind is warm or the crickets sing...l dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. ❜

❛ I don't want them dancing naked under the moon. ❜

❛ The belladonna is in my bag. ❜

❛ Please, God, if you get us out of this, I'll be good. I'll have babies. ❜

❛ I had normal. I worked really hard to get that normal. ❜

❛ You have the worst taste in men. ❜

❛ Okay, I will get you out of this but when I do, we are definitely breaking up. ❜

❛ You won't believe it! We danced naked under the full moon! It was so fun! ❜

❛ I think a brownie for breakfast would fix you right up. ❜

❛ You've been away too long. Some things never change. ❜

❛ Hang onto your husbands, girls! ❜

❛ Midnight margaritas! ❜

❛ Since when is being a slut a crime in this family? ❜

❛ Something's going on. I can smell it. It's a very distinct smell. It's the smell of bullshit. ❜

❛ A cop looking for [name] wants to talk to you. And I think I'm having a heart attack. ❜

❛ And I know this sounds really strange, but I don't think I can lie to him. ❜

❛ On Halloween, they all jump off the roof and fly! ❜

❛ She's not saying they murdered him. Just that maybe they shook his hand and then he died. ❜

❛ If any man dared take on an Owens woman he'd live briefly in the euphoria of her love until meeting an untimely death. ❜

❛ Am I under some kind of surveillance? ❜

❛ Do you ever put your arms out and spin really fast? That's what love is like. It makes your heart race. It turns the world upside-down. But if you're not careful, if you don't keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance. ❜

❛ I got people telling me that you're up here cooking up placenta bars, that you're into devil worship... ❜

❛ You should come here on Halloween. You'd really see something. We all jump off the roof and fly. We kill our husbands too. ❜

❛ Do you have any idea how strange this all sounds to me? ❜

❛ Magic isn't just spells and potions. ❜

❛ It has power because you believe it does. ❜

❛ Wish you could believe in me. ❜

❛ We just stick to our stories. No body, no crime. ❜

❛ I. Me. Mine. That's all you can think about. You. It's all about you. ❜

❛ I'm sick and tired of cleaning up your messes. ❜

❛ You spend all your energy trying to fit in, be normal! But you'll never fit in. Because we're different! ❜

❛ All my life, I've wished I had half your talent. You're wasting yourself! ❜

❛ What if I told you I did kill him? What would you do? Would you send me to jail for life all because the world was short a man like [name]? ❜

❛ Someday you'll explain this all to me. ❜

❛ You killed his spirit, but I took his life. ❜

❛ I'll tell you all you need to know. How I did it, where I buried him. ❜

❛ You're saying what I'm feeling is just one of your spells? ❜

❛ If you stay, I wouldn't know if it was because of the spell, and you wouldn't know if it was because I didn't want to go to prison. ❜

❛ You know, all relationships have problems. ❜

❛ Curses only have power when you believe in them. And I don't. ❜

❛ You know what? I wished for you too. ❜

❛ Oh, dear. It seems we've not arrived in the nick of time. ❜

❛ This is what comes from dabbling. You can't practice witchcraft while you look down your nose at it. ❜

❛ You know the stuff everyone whispers about me…the hexes, the spells? Well, here's the thing. I'm a witch! ❜

❛ There's a little witch in all of us. ❜

❛ He wants me. Just me. Everyone will be safe. Just let him take me. ❜

❛ Don't die on me, please. Because we're supposed to die together, remember? The same time. You promised me that. And this is not that day. ❜

❛ What wouldn't I do for the right guy? ❜

❛ Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart? ❜

❛ There are some things I know for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. And fall in love whenever you can. ❜

#rp meme #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #inbox memes #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #askbox meme #rp memes #rp prompts #*movie

47 notes · View notes

everythingpresley · 1 year

Text

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 21

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

|| Word Count: 5,251

Masterlist

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 21

Two months later

I pour some coffee into my work mug as I stood in the little break room of our office. I had my hair in a little half up half down style dressed in my pencil skirt, blouse and blazer. Two months ago it felt odd to go back to wearing corporate clothes, it seemed slightly foreign after two years of not wearing them. I had some of my old ones but chose to buy new suits for my new job. I thankfully got the job and didn’t have to move back in with my parents. I had to cut down on some of the things since I blew my money on the apartment lease and furniture. My apartment was fine and it wasn’t in the best neighborhood but it was good enough. I had a pretty good kitchen and in house washer and dryer, it was a compromise I was willing to take. Also, it was a fifteen minute walk to work. So… good enough. Actually it wasn’t just good enough, it was great!

Did I miss Graceland? Yes. Did I miss going out for a walk around the huge acres of land? Of course. I really missed the horses too.

My parents and siblings were very happy to see me put my bachelor’s degree back in use that they all pitched in and bought me a TV. I was sick and tired of having only books and magazines as my source for entertainment that when it was finally delivered to my apartment I ordered McDonalds. I chose to go for the McChicken rather than the cheeseburger, I wasn’t ready to have that just yet. I turned on the TV and just watched movies all night while stuffing my mouth with fries.

I was thankful that I always kept a little of my money on the side as savings. Working for the man who shall not be named had it’s perks since I barely spent a dime living under his roof. The money that wasn’t going into my savings account went to Ella’s school. However, after signing the lease and getting cheap second hand furniture except for the mattress of course I had barely anything left in my bank account. Thankfully the first month of work flew by and I got my first paycheck. I made some friends at work but I couldn't bring myself to go out sometimes.

The first two months in New York were filled with excitement of getting the job I’ve always dreamed off and tears because of a certain someone.

After two months I realized this is what I worked for my entire life and now that I was here it wasn’t what I was expecting. Especially after making my mind up and choosing to be with him. To stay with him. I realized he was my dream. But now that was shattered. I still wanted him even after the words he threw at me. He killed my soul. I don’t think I’ll be okay for a long time. It will take some time to get over him. Elvis.

Just thinking of his name instantly brought tears to my eyes in the break room. Fuck him. I blinked back the tears and walked back to my desk. I clicked on my keyboard, springing the computer back to life and typed in my password.

I still talked to Grace, Janice and Jerry a lot. Those three were a constant in my life. I cried to Grace a lot the first night I got here. She was mad, I could tell from the tone of her voice but she let me vent, she let me speak the entire time. I was sobbing hysterically into the phone and she stayed with me for hours on the phone.

The next time we talked, when I had actually calmed down, she told me what she thought. She cussed him out and did not believe a single word he told me. I made it a point to not ask about him even though my heart pounded in my chest whenever we were about to end a call, I wanted to ask about him. I wanted to ask how he was doing. But why do I care so much? He only broke my heart and destroyed me. He left me in pieces. The last two months have been so painful, I hated him. But I still love him.

I didn’t want to think about the possibility of him having a new girl now or a new assistant. He probably had no care in the world and was sleeping with a different girl each night since I left. Do I even cross his mind? After everything we’ve gone through together I sure hope so. He crosses my mind every second. I have to fight my brain to not think about him. Instead I try thinking about garbage, beer, medium rare steaks, soft boiled eggs, all of the things he hates but I end up thinking about him anyway.

“Hi Jess.” Ben, my coworker said as he leaned against my desk. He was handsome, blue eyes but more ice-y than Elvis’ and sandy blond hair.

“Hey Ben.” I smiled back.

“A bunch of us are going to the bar a few blocks from here after work. Will you join us?” He asked.

I gulped, this would take time from my going home to my apartment, turning on a romcom and sobbing hysterically at the cute little moments. Do I want to sit at home and cry the night away or drink and make friends with my new coworkers?

“Sure!” I smiled brightly “Would love to join.”

“Great, see you at 5.” He winked and left to go back to his desk.

Grace was really trying to push me to go out and get back into the dating scene. I couldn’t. Not for a very long time.

Our first conversation after I cried my eyes out went like this:

“Screw that asshole! I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind! I’m gonna punch his stupid face in! God!” She yelled over the phone.

“Relax Grace, he’s your husband’s friend and boss. You can’t do anything.” I reminded her.

“Yeah I know! That’s why I’ve been avoiding going to Graceland or else I’ll do something really bad!” She growled.

She refused for a while to go to Graceland but I told her it was fine. She should go and bond with the other wives and have fun. When she started going to Graceland again, it made me want to ask about Elvis even more especially since she wasn’t talking about him at all.

She never told me if she did end up giving him a piece of her mind. When it came to Grace I knew she probably said something because she can’t keep her mouth shut even if she tried. Bless her. I love Grace.

I was thriving in my new job I loved it but I realized it wasn’t my dream anymore. But it’s okay, I’m still young and dreams can change. I hated that I allowed my mind to wander to Elvis. Him being my husband, the father of my kids, us growing old together. I realized during the four months we were together my dreams had shifted to that. It made the hole in my heart feel even bigger than it already was. I can’t believe my dream had shifted from being a career driven woman to a wife, a mother. I wanted that. But only with him. Never with any other guy. My career always came first.

I looked out of our floor to celling windows, looking out at the city. This city. I love New York, I love being in the city. This view was everything. Every romcom was filmed in this city, it made me fall in love with New York even more.

Still even after two months, whenever I was alone I would retrace everything that happened that night. What led Elvis to say those words, to end things. I never expected it. Was my head so up in the clouds that my brain refused to realize that Elvis wasn’t on the same level as me?

Love clouded my judgment.

At 5 PM sharp Ben walked over to the elevators with his work bag slung over his shoulder. He turned and made eye contact with me before smiling and nodding his head towards the elevator. I nodded and packed my things before following him into the elevator.

We met up with the rest down stairs. Haley from legal, Sara, another consultant (one of us) and Nate also from legal. I hadn’t met Haley nor Nate before so I was excited to be making more friends in the city. It was kind of lonely in the beginning. They seemed nice. Usually people from legal were boring but these two were very funny and sweet.

We went for some drinks, my drink of choice of course being a virgin Pina Colada. Everything reminds me of him. However, I didn’t let that put a damper on my mood. I got to know everyone a little better and I actually had fun. They didn’t know about my pervious relationship, my heartbreak and they didn't have to. I got to pretend to be the old Jess. The one before Elvis.

“So..” Haley wiggled her brows at me as we all sat around the booth in this fairly empty bar. It was a weekday at 6PM so of course the bar was filled with corporate people “Any boyfriends? Or girlfriends?” She looked at me.

My heart clenched in my chest but I smiled regardless “Nope. No boyfriends or girlfriends and not anytime soon anyway.”

“Ohhh fresh off the boat?” Sara asked.

“You could say that.” I chuckled “I’m in a new place, a new job, meeting new people. I need to enjoy this time of my life without being in a relationship… or a situation-ship.”

They all chuckled, getting my drift. I didn't want to talk about it.

“Hey I’ll cheers to that!” Nate cheered “I just got out of a 5 year relationship, she cheated on me!”

We all cheered but when we heard the last sentence we all went “Oh.” mid cheers, our drinks in the air.

“No, it’s okay! I’m totally fine.” Nate said trying to give us a bright smile.

“I’m sorry Nate.” I said and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He gave me a small smile.

Cheating really grinds my gears. I don’t understand it and I never will. Why destroy a person you claim to love? Why keep them on the back burner when you’re out messing with someone else. Just end the relationship or work on it if you’re feeling distant.

I know Elvis was the cheating type so I had my restrictions at the beginning when it came to him. But he showed me time and time again that he only wanted me. Only for that to explode in my face a few months later. He truly made me believe every word he whispered in my ear late at night. All those little kisses and cuddles. The way his eyes would shine brightly when he’d look down at me with such adoration and earnest. He didn’t cheat on me but he made me feel like I was nothing.

I wanted to give Nate a hug but I don’t really know the guy and he’s a colleague so that would be weird and awkward. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I wanted to hug him because I wish someone was there to hug me when everything unraveled with Elvis. I didn’t have anyone in New York to cry on, yes I cried to Grace on the phone but I wanted (needed actually) someone to just hold me while I cried. And I hoped Nate had someone to cry on.

I invited them over on Saturday because I really liked them, they seemed like genuinely nice people.

“Just an FYI my apartment is tiny.” I informed them. I had a small open living room / kitchen area and a small bedroom and bathroom.

“It’s okay, we all live in shoebox apartments.” Sara waved me off.

“It’s New York! People who don’t live in shoebox apartments either have rich parents or are old rich people.” Ben joked.

I got back to my apartment just in time to hear my landline ringing.

“Hello.” I answered.

“Hey! You sound happy!” Grace said cheerfully.

“I am. I made some new friends at work and they’re really nice!” I grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter since my landline was on the kitchen counter.

“That’s great Jess.” She said softly. I could imagine her with little smile on her face “Are you feeling like you’ll stay there for a while?”

“Um.” I sighed “I don’t know. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be but hey I’m trying it out.”

“After getting to know you for the past two years I don’t see you as a city girl.” She chuckled.

“Yeah I also realized this. I’d rather live in the country side and every once in a while come to visit the city because at the same time I love New York.”

“Sorry to say but you’re one of us now!” Grace giggled.

After a beat, I asked the dreaded question. I didn’t know anything about him for the past 2 months.

“How is he?” I asked, my voice barely above whisper. Like it was a forbidden question to be asked.

“Honestly?” She asked.

“Yes. Don’t give me a bullshit answer how he misses me or whatever the hell.”

“Jess.” She sighed “He does miss you.”

“Grace.” I shook my head, looking out at my living room “Please. If he’s happy and he’s seeing some new girl, just tell me.”

“I swear Jess. I-I don’t know how to explain it but I think he’s miserable.”

I gulped, tears springing to my eyes. I didn’t believe her. I wish it was true. I wish he’s crying regretting ever letting me go. Crying because he misses me just as much as I miss him. Crying like I cried the past two months, in absolute misery.

Am I a bad person to want him to feel just as miserable as I do?

“He’s sad and very quiet.”

“He was sad before I left. I don’t think that has anything to do with me.” I reminded her.

“No Jess. Even when I went off at him a few weeks ago he just… let me. He didn’t say anything and when Jerry tried to stop me, Elvis told him not to. I actually felt slightly terrible for saying the things I said to him.” Grace continued.

I shook my head, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back my tears.

“I-I don’t know.” I sighed “I shouldn't have asked about him.”

“Are you happy?” She asked me after a bit.

“Happy?” I chuckled, with no humor whatsoever “What’s happy?”

“Jess.” She said sadly.

“I’m okay Grace. Happy is too big of a word right now. Yes, I do have happy moments and I’m living for those right now. Overall? I don’t know.”

“You deserve to be happy, Jess.”

I smiled and nodded “Thank you. And I will be.”

“I have to tell you something also.” Grace said.

“What?” I asked, panic bubbling in my stomach.

“No, it’s good!” She laughed “I’m pregnant!”

“No way!” I yelled and jumped up “Grace! Oh my god! I’m so happy for you!” I was now crying happy tears, knowing that they’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while.

“Thank you. Don’t cry!” She scolded but I could tell she was also crying with me.

“Okay, now I’m actually happy.” I chuckled “Oh Grace, please tell Jerry I say congratulations and that I’m gonna be the best Aunt to that little munchkin.”

“Will do.” She chuckled “Happy moment?”

“Very happy moment, Grace.” I was grinning from ear to ear.

I was so excited to be hosting people to my tiny apartment. I went shopping for snacks and drinks. I got a bottle of wine, chips, chocolate, cheese, crackers and meat for a cheeseboard and then we could order pizza for dinner.

Early Saturday morning was filled with me bouncing around my apartment, clearing the kitchen from the different papers from work, books thrown haphazardly over my coffee table.

I’d been so busy the entire day, cleaning and genuinely excited to be seeing them even though I saw them yesterday at work. I was so busy that Elvis only crossed my mind once. Only when I passed the drinks isle and saw Pepsi bottles.

The conversation I had with Grace on Thursday still lingered in my mind though. Elvis being sad. I didn’t believe it but I know Grace and she wouldn’t lie to me just to tell me something I would like to hear. I felt so selfish to want him to hurt like I hurt. I wanted to be the more mature, bigger person who wishes the person they love is happy. Of course I want him to be happy. I will always care about him but he hurt me so bad, I wanted him to feel even 20% of what I felt when he broke my heart in pieces.

Why would he be sad though? He ended it. He told me I was convenient and pathetic for wanting someone who didn't want me.

I got dressed into some jeans, a white button down long sleeve, tucking it into my jeans and put a white headband on my dark hair.

Slowly everyone trickled in, the girls showing up first and the guys later. They brought beer and more chips with them. Sara brought cookies. I was liking them more already. Food is really the way to my heart.

We sat around the talked, getting to know each other more.

“Am I getting old or what, because I prefer this over going to a bar.” I joked “Except if its a honky tonk.” I said without thinking, instantly causing my smile to falter. It reminded me of Elvis. Damn this man.

“You like honky tonks?” Ben laughed.

“Love em!” I chuckled, trying not to put a damper on the mood.

“Was it something you used to do with the ex?” Haley asked.

“Why do you ask?” I chuckled awkwardly.

“You got that look on your face.” Sara added.

“Yeah, it was something we used to do together. It was so much fun.” I said.

“But yeah! I totally agree! We’re definitely getting old and loud places are just not as fun.” Haley replied.

As the night went on, we decided to order pizza and watch a movie. I heard a knock on the door and I quickly jumped up from the couch, I was filling up on snacks so I couldn’t wait for the pizza to get here, chips and chocolate was making me sick and I couldn’t control myself. Although greasy pizza is bound to make me feel even more sick.

They continued talking as I dashed into my bedroom to get cash and then went over to the door. I don’t swing the door fully open just in case. I did live in a sketchy neighborhood and I always made some scenarios up in my mind of people dressing up as delivery guys before bursting into your house and murdering you. I kept the deadbolt on and pulled the door open.

“Hi.” I smiled and then quickly shut the door. I placed a hand on my chest, my eyes wide. I felt like I was about to puke. I reached for the deadbolt and removed it quickly before opening the door and walking out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me.

“Elvis?” I asked quietly. My heart beating out of my chest.

Was I dreaming? What the heck is Elvis Presley doing standing in the hallway of my apartment complex. Here he was, looking like a dream as usual. Screw him for being the most beautiful man on the planet. His dark hair was pushed back, he seemed paler than usual but he stood tall. He was dressed in black pants and dark green button down. My eyes were wide in confusion.

His eyes were glassy “Hi.” He whispered. The corners of his mouth turning down slightly, his lower lip trembled slightly. It’s as if just seeing me brought instant tears to his eyes.

“What-” I let out an audible breath “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.” He whispered, taking a step forward.

I scoffed and took a step back “No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to show up here two months later claiming you miss me. Cut the crap, Elvis.”

“But I did. I do miss you.” He gulped.

I scoffed again, shaking my head, looking down the hall to make sure no one was just standing around watching us.

“Jess!” I heard Ben’s voice shout from inside the apartment “Are you okay? What’s taking so long?”

Shit. I quickly opened the door and peaked my head in “I’m fine, it’s not the pizza. Give me a second.”

Ben gave me a thumbs up before I shut the door again and faced Elvis who now had a panicked look on his face, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

“Who-who was that?” He asked, his face morphing into something of heartbreak.

“No one.” I said with a clenched jaw.

“A-Are you seeing someone?” He whispered.

“None of your business.” I was getting really pissed off because who the heck does he think he is, showing up here and being upset that I could possibly be with someone else after he dumped me.

“Oh my god.” He whispered, a placed a hand over his chest, his eyes getting even wider. He gulped and pulled on his collar as if it was suffocating him. He took a loud breath, turning away from me and leaning his head against the wall “I can’t breathe.” He choked out.

Shit. I reached for his shoulder and pulled him to face me “What’s happening right now?” I asked, I cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes.

“I can’t-“ He was trying to take deep breaths but was failing. And I started to panic.

“Come on, let’s get you outside.” I said and quickly pulled him down the hallway and down the stairs, out onto the street.

“Hey.” I cupped his cheeks with both of my hands. He placed his hands above mine “Breathe please. Follow my lead. In.” I took a deep breath, Elvis copying me “Out.” And we did that several times before he visibly relaxed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rubbing my thumb over his cheek. I missed him so much. I missed holding him like this.

“No.” He said quietly. His eyes looking directly into mine.

“I’m not seeing him. I’m not seeing anyone.” I told him. He leaned his forehead against mine and I let him for a second. I closed my eyes, I missed this closeness with him and only him.

I let myself get lost in his touch before I remembered the words he had thrown at me two months ago, it doused me like ice cold water. I sighed and pulled away from him. He eyes snapped open and once again he gave me those puppy dog eyes when he was looking for forgiveness.

“Why is he in your apartment?” He asked.

“You have no right to ask me that.” I reminded him before walking up the steps that lead to the small lobby of the apartment complex “And it’s not just him, it’s a group of colleagues. Girls are there too.”

“Jess. Please don’t go.” Elvis said and grabbed my hand.

I turned towards him and shook my head “You need to go Elvis. You’ve hurt me enough. Please leave me alone.” I whispered.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, his eyes getting glassy once again.

I pulled my hand out his grasp and continued walking before I turned around to face him “How did you know where I live?”

“I can’t say.” He gulped, avoiding my eyes.

Was it Grace or Jerry? They’re the only people in Elvis’ circle who knew where I lived. Grace wouldn’t say anything though, would she?

“Wait! You forgot these at the house.” He said and pulled an envelope from his back pocket.

“What’s that?” I asked, confused. I checked every drawer and nook and cranny a million times before I left, there's no way I forgot something.

“You left our photos in the drawer and I also got the pictures from Hawaii developed.” He said.

I clenched my jaw, narrowing my eyes at him “I left them on purpose. I don’t want them.”

“Why?” He whispered “Do you want to forget we ever happened?” His voice wavering as he spoke.

“Yes, Elvis. I want to forget we ever happened.” I gulped, tears springing to my eyes. I wanted to forget that we ever happened because the pain of it all was too strong.

His face was so hurt, as if I was the one that ended it. As if I was breaking his heart right now “Jess.” He said, his lower lip trembling, his eyes mimicked mine and filled with tears and sorrow.

”In fact I want to erase the past two years out of my memory.” I said, my voice cracking slightly “And you don’t get to come here like an injured little puppy, like I was the one that hurt you.”

It pissed me off that he would show up here and act like he didn’t break me, giving me those eyes when he knows he fucked up and is looking for forgiveness. I don't think I can ever forgive the words he said. Those words ran through my mind all the time.

Pathetic. Convenient. Desperate.

They haunted me before falling asleep and they haunted me in my dreams.

“Don’t come back here, Elvis. I don’t want to see you again.” I said as a tear slipped out of my eye and rolled down my cheek before I finally went back in. That was a complete lie, my heart did not want that but I let my brain take the wheel this time. My heart did enough damage to itself.

I wanted to get into bed and cry. Instead I took a deep breath, leaning my head against the wall, closing my eyes for a second. Then I wiped my tears and forcibly plastered a smile on my face before walking back into my apartment and pretended I was fine until they left. That’s when I allowed myself to cry again over him, like I do almost every night. But this time it was different. It hurt seeing him. It still didn't register in my mind that I actually saw him today after two months, that I touched him, that my lips were a few inches away from his lips. It hurt to see him hurt. I thought I would feel better if I knew he was hurting like me. Why was he hurting? He had a full blown panic attack at the thought that I had moved on with someone else.

I fell asleep while crying, I decided to stay at home on Sunday and just sit around my apartment. I know I should go out and go for a walk but I was scared that Elvis was outside and at the same time I was hoping he was still outside. I just chose to not find out if he’s still here or if he went back to Memphis. I had a day in, I baked some cookies and watched movies. Really just took a day for myself. Opened up the windows and sun bathed in my living room. Also a bonus of this apartment, I got direct sunlight.

The next day I got up super early, made myself some breakfast and coffee. I put some music on and got ready for work. I hated Monday mornings but starting your day right definitely helped.

I swung my bag over my shoulder, dressed in a matching sage green pencil skirt and blazer and a white button down. I had my hair down and pushed back by a headband. I locked my door and headed down stairs and out onto the street.

“Good morning.”

I turned, my face scrunched up in confusion “You’re still here?” I asked when I spotted Elvis leaning against a pole.

“Yeah and I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” He said.

I scoffed and shook my head at him “What do you think you’re doing Elvis?”

“I got you coffee.” He said and moved towards me, he had two take away cups of coffee and handed me one.

“I don’t want coffee.” I grumbled, hating my heart for beating faster and the butterflies that erupted in my stomach at the fact that he was still here. He didn’t leave. I hated myself right now.

“Take it Jess.” He said.

I frowned and took it from him, turning to walk down the street towards my job. I heard his footsteps following along “What are you doing?” I asked turning my head to see him walking behind me.

“Walking you to work.” He replied.

“Don’t bother.” I grumbled and as I passed a trash bin, I threw the coffee he gave me.

Was I being petty? Yes. 100%. Did I care? Not really.

The same thing happened when I got back from work 8 hours later. Elvis was still standing there. I rolled my eyes and passed him to get into my building, pretending like he wasn’t there leaning against the lamp post like he did earlier.

“I’m gonna stay here no matter how long it takes.” He said when I walked past him “If it takes weeks, months or years. I’ll be here.”

I bit my lip and pushed the door open, walking into my building. He didn't follow me, he stayed outside. He was respecting my boundary at least.

I unlocked my door and walked into my apartment to see a dozen bouquet of flowers in vases covering my floor. My jaw dropped at the amount of sunflowers that covered my living room and kitchen. My favorite flowers. How the heck did he put them inside?

I frowned and opened the window, peeking my head through the window to look down at him. I was only two stories up.

“How the heck did you get into my apartment?” I called out with a frown on my face. Forget about respecting my boundaries.

“I’m Elvis Presley.” He called out, grinning as he looked up at me. That damn shit eating grin on his face pissed me off.

I huffed through my nose, shaking my head at him “You’re an asshole.” I said and took one of the bouquets out of the vase and chucked it out of the window, aiming at him.

“Hey! At least I didn’t stay in there!” He said, dodging the flowers. I kept the rest because they were too pretty to throw away “I could've stayed in there and surprised you!”

“Oh thank you so much for that consideration! I am so thankful!” I said sarcastically.

“At least you’re talking to me, I’m taking whatever I can get.” He shrugged.

I huffed again and slammed the window shut.

Taglist: @urrfavvana @girlblogger2002 @butlersluvbot @iheqrtaustin @dramaticpandabear @godlypresley @amiets2 @felis-haxb16 @marie73ep @scarlettlight06 @whatstruthgottodowithit @sassanoe @thatbanditqueen @18lkpeters @rjmartin11 @elvispresleyisfit12

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#elvis presley x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #Elvis presley x you #elvis x you #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #Elvis #Elvis presley #Elvis fanfiction #Elvis presley x oc #Elvis x oc #Austin butler #elvis smut

119 notes · View notes