#them uploading this at the same time the new chapter came out is so fucking wild
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YATO'S THE ONE WHO NEEDS CHEERING ON NOW CRUNCHYROLL WTF MAN!?!?!
#them uploading this at the same time the new chapter came out is so fucking wild#like why do you hate us crunchyroll#fuck you#my man has disappeared#noragami#noragami spoilers#noragami manga#yato#yatogami#yaboku
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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
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I Don’t Love You (Ianthony AU)
Chapter 3+4
Im so into writing thisTwT Im appreciate everyone who read my silly little story.I will upload this on AO3 when I finish writing everything. It’s on Wattpad for now
Chapter 3: I Want to Understand You
As the morning light gently filtered into Ian's room, he stirred from his sleep and reached out, only to find the absence of Anthony beside him. A subtle pang of sadness tugged at his heart, but he couldn't help but smile as he reflected on the sweet moments they had shared the night before. It offered some solace.
With a renewed sense of determination, Ian get up and prepared himself for another day at school.
Walking to school alone felt like a heavy burden on Ian's shoulders. The absence of Anthony by his side is still unbearable. He really need to get used to this.
Arriving at school, Ian couldn't help but notice how Anthony continued to ignore him, as if the events of the past day were nothing more than a distant memory. Ian longed to understand what was going on in Anthony's mind, but still he couldn't.
He knew that Anthony cared for him deeply, but the complexities of their friendship left him feeling bewildered and hurt. Why couldn't they just hang out like real best friends, he wondered. The love between them was undeniable, but understanding the intricacies of Anthony's actions remained a challenge Ian was determined to unravel.
Ian couldn't help but watch as Anthony mingled with his so-called "not friends" friends, a mixture of frustration and longing tugging at his heart. Why can't I be having fun with him like them?
Before the class started, two friendly faces approached him. It was Mari and Melanie, the only people apart from Anthony with whom he hung out regularly. They greeted him with warm smiles and settled in beside him.
Mari, with her bright eyes, grinned and complimented, "Ian, you're looking even cuter than ever"
Melanie chimed in, " Yeah, the bowl cut suits you omg"
Ian blushed at their kind Words. These girls are like a ray of sunshine. Anthony doesn't really bother them hanging out with me unlike when Ian tried to make friends with other guys. Ian really appreciate and grateful for their presence in his life.
Mari's sharp eyes caught him off guard as she observed him staring at Anthony and his friends from across the room. She didn't mince words, stating, "Anthony no longer hangs out with you?"
Ian, caught in his emotions, quickly responded, "No, we're still friends. He's just... well, he doesn't want to hang out in public, like last year."
Mari and Melanie, both concerned and upset, didn't hold back their feelings. Mari's voice carried a note of frustration as she said, "Ian, that guy is such an... well, excuse my language, he is a fucking asshole. I don't think he's your best friend."
Melanie added her own thoughts, her expression showing genuine concern. "Maybe it's time to make some new friends, Ian. You deserve friends who treat you better."
Ian, his heart aching, tried to defend Anthony, concealing his own inner turmoil. "No, really," he said, even though his heart was breaking inside. "I'm okay with it. I just... I don't want new friends."
Deep down, only God know how much he longed to be someone Anthony not ashamed of being a best friend with. Why can't he be the one?
To lighten the mood and divert his attention, Ian shifted his focus to Mari and Melanie. They chatted animatedly about school and upcoming assignments, as the class began, leaving the complexities of his friendship with Anthony behind, at least for the moment.
-</3-
As the class came to an end, Ian bid farewell to Mari and Melanie, putting on a brave face despite the turmoil in his heart. However, his attempt to distance his feelings from Anthony didn't last long.
In the corridor, Ian stumbled upon a disheartening sight. Anthony and a girl, the same one he had seen in Anthony's car, were making out by the lockers. Ian felt his heart drop at the sight.
Hastily, he moved on to his next class, where he spotted David talking to some other students. He greeted David with a wave, but he chose to sit far away, not wanting to upset Anthony or to be embroiled in any more drama. He is tired.
Ian had grown accustomed to the ever-changing cast of girls in Anthony's life, over time. In the beginning, he would inquire about Anthony's girlfriends, only to be met with silence and frustration, as if he were prying into forbidden territory. Anthony had become adept at dodging questions about his dating life, and Ian had learned to stop asking.
Now, when he noticed Anthony with yet another girl, a familiar pang of jealousy and hurt still tugged at his heart. He tried to ignore it, to mask the hurt with indifference, but deep down, he couldn't help but wish for a time when it was just the two of them.
When Anthony entered the classroom, he silently placed a milk candy on Ian's desk without a word or a glance. Ian understood that Anthony, a vegan, likely left the candy because he couldn't eat it himself. Without drawing attention to the gesture, Ian simply left the candy untouched on his desk.
Ian's phone buzzed with a message notification from Anthony. The message simply read, "Eat it. I got it for you because someone said it tastes really good."
Ian hesitated for a moment, conflicted by his feelings. He glanced at Anthony, who was watching him with a stern expression, seemingly upset that Ian hadn't appreciated the gesture.
With a resigned sigh, Ian decided to break the tension. He peeled the wrapper off the candy and took a bite. As the sweet flavor spread across his tongue, he couldn't help but admit that it tastes pretty good.
Another message slid into Ian's phone, and this time it was a simple inquiry from Anthony: "How's that?"
Ian replied, "It's good, Anthony. Thank you."
As he glanced over at Anthony, he couldn't help but notice how Anthony's stern expression from before had shifted into a genuine smile, and he was once again engrossed in conversation with his friends.
With a soft sigh, Ian took a moment to gather his thoughts and wrote down a poem:
"To my unknown lover, I weep day by day and night by night, wishing you wouldn't be a devil in disguise"
-</3-
At the lunch break, Ian opted for a secluded spot on the school's rooftop terrace. It offered a peaceful escape from the bustling lunchtime crowds, allowing him to enjoy his meal in solitude without the risk of unwanted dramas with Anthony.
A message from Anthony lit up Ian's phone screen: "Where are you? Are you with that orange head?"
Ian sighed before replying, "No, I'm on the rooftop, eating my lunch alone."
Anthony's response, a simple "good;)", carried a hint of reassurance. Despite their complicated dynamics, it was a relief for Ian to know that Anthony still cared about him. Or is he?
-<3-
As Ian was walking home, he heard David's voice calling out his name from a distance. He stopped and waited, watching as David approached.
"Hey, I was looking for you at lunch," David said with a friendly smile. "Where have you been?"
Ian, not wanting to complicate things further, decided to offer a simple explanation. "Oh, I was in the library, reading books," he replied.
David nodded in understanding. "That sounds like you," he said with a chuckle. "Mind if we walk together? We're headed in the same direction."Ian, despite his reservations, agreed.
As Ian and David continued to walk together chatting , the unmistakable sound of Anthony's race car reverberated down the road. Ian, hoping to avoid any confrontation, chose to ignore it, thinking that Anthony wouldn't notice him either way.
However, to his surprise, the car suddenly pulled up alongside him and David, coming to a stop.
As Anthony's car screeched to a halt beside him and David, they exchanged curious glances. Anthony, without so much as a glance their way, told Ian with a stern tone, "Get in."
Ian, taken aback by Anthony's abruptness, stammered out a quick farewell to David, who appeared confused by the situation.
Ian: "Uh, David, I'll see you at school tomorrow."
David nodded, still puzzled, and this seemed to intensify Anthony's stern expression.
Anthony revved the engine impatiently as Ian settled into the passenger seat, then slammed his foot on the gas pedal, speeding away from the scene without a word.
The ride to Ian's home remained shrouded in heavy silence. Anthony didn't utter a single word, and Ian felt equally unable to break the tension. The drive was brief, and when they arrived at his destination, Ian mustered up the courage to speak.
Ian: "Thank you for dropping me off."
But Anthony didn't respond. He continued to grip the steering wheel, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his expression resolute.
Ian stepped out of the car, and as he closed the door, Anthony impulsively tossed a package of candy that had been in the car onto the ground. The candy bag landed at Ian's feet with a thud. Before Ian could react, Anthony sped off without a single word.
Ian stood there, holding the discarded candy bag, watching as Anthony's car vanished from sight. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within him, leaving him uncertain about how to process what just happened. Why are you being like that, Anthony? I want to understand you. I really do.
-</3-
Chapter 4: Sugar, We’re Going Down
That evening, Ian waited, hoping Anthony show up at his house to talk things out. But Anthony didn't even answer Ian's calls or reply to his messages. Ian's attempts to study and distract himself fell flat. Maybe studying is not the best way to distract after all.
After completing his schoolwork and having dinner, Ian turned his attention to a project he'd been working on for months – a red sweater meant to be a birthday present for Anthony. Ian isn't a master at crocheting, but he had poured his heart into this gift, and it was turning out quite well.
Anthony had a peculiar quirk; he didn't like Ian spending too much money on him. This was evident when, on the last birthday, Ian had bought him a silver chain with the money he'd saved up all year. Anthony had stormed out, frustrated, cause he believed such gifts didn't require much effort and simply buying something like this for him doesn't make him feel special.
But Ian's intentions were different. He simply wanted to reciprocate the kindness Anthony had shown him over the years, with gifts like video games and merchandise. Despite the rocky start, Ian had noticed that Anthony still wore that silver chain every day since then. It was a silent acknowledgment that, in his own way, Anthony did appreciate the gesture and it's warm his heart.
Worry gnawed at Ian as he stared at the almost-finished sweater meant for Anthony. With this complicated situation between them he worried that he couldn't get a chance to never give him. He gently set the sweater aside and decided to make one last attempt to reach Anthony before retiring for the night.
Dialing Anthony's number, Ian hoped for a response, but there was only silence on the other end. Ian let out a heavy sigh, feeling the despair welling up within him.
In a last-ditch effort, he sent a message: "Good night, Anthony. Sleep well. I miss you." With that, he set his phone down and, overwhelmed by emotions, shed silent tears as he drifted into a troubled sleep.
-</3-
The next morning, Ian awoke with sore eyes and an overall sense of unease. He didn't feel well at all and could really used a day off. However, his determination to see Anthony led him to decide to go to school anyway.
As he made his way downstairs for breakfast, his mom immediately noticed his condition.
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked. "You look a bit under the weather. Maybe you should stay home today."
Despite the tempting offer of a day off, he couldn't bring himself to miss school, he need to makes things up with Anthony. With a weak smile, he tried to reassure his mom.
"I'm okay, Mom, really," he replied, his voice somewhat strained.
Despite his insistence, Ian struggled to keep down the eggs and bacon she'd prepared. Every bite felt like a challenge, and he had to battle the urge to vomit. Nevertheless, he managed to finish breakfast and headed off to school, his determination driving him forward even as his body protested.
-</3-
When Ian arrived at school, he immediately noticed that Anthony was nowhere to be found. Concern gnawed at him, and he reached for his phone to send a text to Anthony, asking where he was and if he was okay. However, his messages remained unread, and there was no reply.
As the school bell rang, Anthony still hadn't shown up. Ian couldn't help but wish he had chosen to stay home that day. Anxiety weighed on his mind, and he muttered softly to himself, "Where's Anthony?" just as the teacher entered the classroom.
As the classes dragged on and lunchtime approached, Anthony still hadn't made an appearance. Ian felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The lack of appetite made the thought of eating unappealing, so he decided to retreat to the library for a much-needed nap.
On his way to the library, Ian couldn't help but notice how every student seemed to be part of a group, laughing and enjoying themselves. He used to be one of them, a popular kid who was hyperactive, playful, and everyone's friend. But that had all changed when Anthony entered his life. Anthony had become his sole focus to the point where he became Ian's only friend. Ian didn't mind that at all, though, because he loved Anthony deeply.
However, seeing all the other kids having fun without him made him question if his life could have been better without Anthony. Would he have a more typical high school experience? He couldn't say for sure, but one thing was certain – despite the loneliness and uncertainty, he would always choose Anthony over anything else.
-</3-
Students are scattered around the field. Ian always hated recess. Most of the boys are playing football some are doing cardio and stuffs. Ian isn't good at sport. So he decided to join Mari and Melanie running. He loves running and he's pretty good at marathon.
The girls noticed that he's not feeling good and worry ask if he's okay. He don't want to lie to girls so he just said he isn't feeling really good but he's okay cuz he took a nap at lunch. Write conversations. The girls worry and tell him to rest for a while.
By that moment a ball from across the field came directly to Ian and hit him in the face. It came from Shayne Topp, he's as popular as Anthony at school. They used to be friend at the first junior year but they stopped hanging out when Anthony came in. Now he's in Anthony's friend group.
Ian'a nose is hurt and it's bleeding. Shayne is just laugh it off and doesn't even seems to care that Ian's hurt. The girls are frustrating but Ian doesn't want them to make a scene so he stopped them.
Gym teacher is the only one who came in to help and he lead him to the nurse office. Nurse gave him some ice and painkillers for his sore nose. At this point Ian don't think he can make it till the end of the school so he got permission to leave and called his mom to come pick him up. This day couldn't get any worse.
-</3-
an lay quietly on his bed, a damp towel soothing his throbbing forehead as he battled a migraine and nursed his sore nose. The melodic strains of Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Goin Down" played softly on his mp3 player, the lyrics of the song resonating with his troubled thoughts.
"Am I more than you bargained for yet?
I've been dying to tell you
Anything you wanna hear
'Cause that's just who I am this week."
The lyrics seemed to cut deep as he pondered what had gone wrong between him and Anthony. What had he done to cause this rift? Ian would go to great lengths for the man he loved, and he truly had. But somewhere along the way, things had taken a turn.
"Drop a heart
And break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping
For the wrong team."
God knows how much he love Anthony. But it's not like he's asking to be his boyfriend or something. He just want to be someone Anthony isn't ashamed to show off.
"We're going down, down in an earlier round
And sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it"
He would never stop loving Anthony no matter how he treats him. He would gladly trade the world just to be by his side. But where had things gone wrong?
With his fever rising and his body aching, Ian felt an urgent need for Anthony's comforting presence. He checked his phone, seeing that the messages he had sent were still marked as "delivered." Swallowing his pride, he sent another message, "I'm really sick right now, Anthony. I miss you. Hope you're doing well."
Despite the vulnerability he felt, Ian doesn’t mind being a chaser, after all, Anthony is way out of his league and Ian should be grateful that he still considers him as his best friend. Ian closed his watery eyes and drifted into a restless sleep, hoping that things would get better when he wakes up.
-</3-
A/N:hope everyone has a good day<3
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Changes- Chapter 1 Reuploaded
Summary- Eddie becomes jealous when rumors around town suggest you and Steve Harrington are sleeping together. After fighting with Eddie events lead to you and Steve Harrington having a 'movie night' to cheer you up
NO CHILDREN ON MY PAGE
Masterlist here
Pairings-Friends to lovers! Steve Harrington X Reader, Established relationship! Eddie Munson X reader
Warnings-Smut, semi-cheating?, fighting, angst, violence, fingering, p in v smut, smoking, drinking
Tags- Mechanic Eddie, eventual Steddie X Reader, smut, eventual poly, somewhat cheating?
A/N-I am working on a new chapter but in the meantime enjoy new scenes and updated stuff to make everything fit together. Will be uploading all of what is written so far just reedited so enjoy! Still the same story as this series. Just some new scenes and better written!
Eddie would have never really considered himself the jealous type, but when it came to you, you were his everything, his sunshine, someone he could really hold and love. He had also never really had a problem with you working alongside Steve, ‘The King’ Harrington at the video store.
You and Steve had been friends in kindergarten and again after high school, and Eddie didn’t believe he had any right to say anything about who you were or weren't friends with.
Besides, he trusted you more than anything. It was like breathing.
Despite that he would still try to avoid Steve, maybe it was something about the way you smiled widely at him or maybe it was the way that Dustin looked up at him with stars shimmering in his eyes. It was at times like this Eddie would feel burrowing pangs of jealousy and remember the Steve he knew in high school, the one he loathed that called him a freak.
When Eddie entered the shop that day he could hardly be bothered by the whispers and glances from each and every person, guest and employee alike. It had been like this for his entire life so it was easy for Eddie to ignore them, the people of Hawkins always gawked at him, even now. He did his best to ignore the whispers and glares and quickly started setting up to work, putting his bulky headphones over his ears.
He was about halfway through the shift, under a car with grease spread on his face and his hair tied up messily. As much as he hated this fucking town when he was working on a car he was truly able to disappear into the problem. It was especially nice when he needed a distraction.
It was only when he pulled himself up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a semi-clean rag that he overheard some of the guys talking, apparently not realizing he was there.
He froze, listening closely as the two men spoke in muddled whispers.
“It just isn’t proper,”
“Someone should say something, he ought to know.”
“If someone were fucking my girl I would shoot them dead.”
“Let alone in the back of the video store!”
They all broke out into booming echoing laughs that made Eddie’s head spin. He had suspected for weeks that something was happening between you and Steve but now the entire situation was staring him down.
He couldn’t stay silent anymore and after a harsh interrogation of his coworkers he had heard all he needed to for his worst fear to be confirmed.
There were rumors around town that you and Steve had been fucking in the back of the video store. Your face flashed in his head, toothy grin, your pink cheeks and fluttering eyelashes looking up at Steve as they fell to brush your cheeks and then meet back with Steve’s caramel ones. He kissed you softly, intimately. Like it was only one of hundreds.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before, that he had been so blind.
He imagined Steve would hold your chin, tongue swirling around your mouth, while he pressed you against the wall of the video store on a rainy day, your whimpers echoing in the empty store while Eddie was at home, pathetically waiting for your return.
Steve would grip your hips with his muscular thigh pressed between yours and your hot clothed cunt soaks through the thin material of your pants.
“Steve, Steve, Steve.” Your voice echoed in Eddie’s skull.
////////////////////////////////////
Eddie Munson was anything but a ‘safe’ driver on a good day but when he was angry or upset he was reckless. His knuckles were stark white as he gripped the wheel, hair flying wildly as he drove, trying to drown out the images that infiltrated his mind with booming music.
It hardly helped and the thought of Steve towering over you, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder while your nails scraped down Steve’s perfectly toned back. Your glossy eyes dazed and low as you stared at him, he swore you were right there, he could smell and feel you just inches away. Your broken moans filled his ears, it was all so wrong and intoxicating. He shouldn’t like this, he refused to.
He felt his face burn red when he noticed his dick had grown rock hard in his pants.
“Fuck.” He grumbled, leaning his sweat coated forehead against the steering wheel.
/////////////////////////////////////////
“Tell me the fucking truth, (Y/N)” Eddie growled, his voice rumbling from deep in his throat.
“That is the truth, Eddie.” Your voice was stern, tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over and onto your flushed cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” You reached your hands out towards him, trembling like a leaf.
Eddie stood there for a moment, fighting back tears of his own as he shook his head, throwing his hands up to keep you at a distance. “No no no no, stop” He chewed at his bottom lip, “I just don’t fucking believe you.” He spat, eyebrows furrowed while he refused to look directly at you.
Your heart shattered in your chest as those sharp words slipped from his lips followed by the endless stream of tears that finally poured down your cheeks.
Eddie’s knuckles were white and his jaw clenched to be as sharp as a blade. His already pale skin was flushed and his pupils enveloped any color that was once there. His hair whipped wildly around him as he threw his arms up and raked his fingers through the thick curls, digging into his scalp as he rambled.
“I just want the truth, I think at the very least you owe me that.” He said through gritted teeth.
“Then tell me what the ‘truth’ is, Eddie! I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here!” You rambled, stomping your foot as tears stung your eyes, lip quivering.
It was childish, you knew that but you just couldn’t take it anymore, you hated this. You were genuinely confused and hurt.
“You...” Eddie took a few steps towards you, his finger pressing against your chest slightly as he pointed, cornering you against the table, his eyes puffy and tear-filled.
“You are fucking Steve Harrington, aren’t you?.” He crouched down slightly to be eye to eye with you.
You wanted to laugh, you almost did but the look on his face, the betrayal, the serious look he rarely had and the tears that slid down his cheeks. It tore you apart.
You reached up to him, wiping a tear across his face before he gripped your wrist, eyes meeting briefly. Fear and desperation was written on your face.
“Eddie, you are the only person I have ever loved like this, it’s only you.” You pleaded, voice trembling. “Steve is just a friend.”
Nothing had happened between you and Steve, honestly. You wouldn’t hurt Eddie like that.
“I see how he looks at you, and how you look at him. Anyone within a mile of either of you can see it.” His sharp tongue shot venom at you, eyes completely blown and any color left had been burned out like a piece of ash floating down from a roaring flame.
“Eds,” You sniffled. “I promise you, nothing has happened between me and Steve. He’s my friend, that's all.”
It was the truth, Eddie had always been the one for you.
“Bullshit, it's all bullshit,” Eddie laughed grimly, leaning his head back as he did, his whole body shaking violently before he stopped all at once, his body lurching forward and his fist crashing through the brittle drywall next to you, the white powder spreading over the room as you stood in shock.
You gasped audibly, frozen and trembling as your widened eyes looked back and forth between Eddie, with his now bleeding hand and the hole in your wall.
He had never done anything like this before. You had known him for a while and while he had never been afraid of fighting an asshole at school or telling someone to fuck off, he was normally an overall soft and kind person.
“You and me, we are finished.” He used his sleeve to wipe his face before the two of your eyes connected for just a moment, your heart sinking into a cool icy bath of shock.
His words were muffled over the gnawing static that now filled your ears. You didn’t move from that spot as sobs racked through your body, knocking you onto your knees as you pressed your hands to your face.
Eddie grabbed his keys off the table and with a slam of the door that left you trembling. The deafening sound of rubber against asphalt as he pulled away from the trailer left a gigantic rot in your chest.
//////////////////////////////////
Four-five weeks had passed in agonizing succession. Eddie had disappeared, he completely stopped showing up at work and he wasn’t hiding out at Wayne’s trailer.
In all honesty you were losing the last bit of strength and working at the Video Store had done little to help. While the distraction was much appreciated and being around Steve always made you feel better, there was still a burning sense of guilt that crawled its way up.
It shouldn’t have mattered, Eddie was gone and you were fairly certain he wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Still, you wondered how he would feel about that, about you finding comfort in Steve.
“You gonna be okay?” Steve asked, pulling you from your thoughts and resting his hand beside you on the counter.
“I’ll be fine.” You sighed, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Maybe we could hang out after work, we can talk or watch movies, whatever you want.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck.
You couldn't help but tilt your head to the side to look up at him, his shimmering chocolate colored eyes freezing you to the spot. You couldn’t deny how absolutely beautiful Steve was, he made the butterflies in your stomach flutter desperately.
“Yeah-okay.” You nodded. “I’ll be at your place at 9.” You smiled weakly before going back to stocking the horror movies.
Steve watched you closely, mumbling something that sounded like ‘okay’ before attending to one of the customers that glared at him, obviously annoyed.
Steve Harrington had been in love with you since kindergarten, sure he had a short period in highschool where he forgot you existed but now, after fighting interdimensional monsters and escaping an underground russian prison together you two had been reunited as friends, best friends in fact. Steve had (badly) convinced himself he was fine with that, that just friends was plenty for him.
How horribly wrong he was.
He respected you being with Eddie, Steve had hurt you plenty in the past and felt he didn’t deserve you, nor did he think he ever stood a chance against Eddie. To Steve, you and Eddie were painfully and obviously in love.
Steve wasn’t sure if anyone would ever love him that much.
////////////////////////////////////////
The rest of the shift went by quickly and before you knew it you were back in your tiny trailer taking a scalding hot shower, head tilted far back and neck exposed to the unrelenting stream of water. Eddie’s words had been haunting you, burning right through your chest.
It was all becoming too much to handle and you had to find a distraction to ease the numbing ache.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, maybe Steve would be the solution, he was your best friend, it would be good for you to talk to him about everything.
When you arrived at Steve’s apartment you felt a deep sense of regret, that maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea. After all the rumors and the fight with Eddie, it couldn’t end well, right?
“Hey,” Steve opened the door with a big toothy grin on his face, his glowing tan skin knocking the air out of your lungs as he leaned against the doorframe. He was so beautiful, only being comparable to a Greek god, standing proud, muscles pronounced in his shirt.
This was definitely a very bad idea.
“Alright, darlin’.” Steve held up three movies like they were a deck of cards. “Take your pick.”
He, of course, had picked your top three favorite movies and as you looked them over you couldn’t help the spreading grin over your face. Steve was always very observant, especially when it came to you, he honestly couldn’t help but hold on to each thing you allowed him to know, to be a part of the things you care about. To him, it was the only way he could keep you close.
You decided on one of the movies, tapping your nail against the cover.
Steve put it in before he plopped right beside you, his leg brushing against yours as the movie started. You two sat close, a small bit of space between you as Steve got comfortable, stretching his long arms over the back of the couch, his hand dangling right on the other side of you. You hadn’t realized how long you had been sitting there, eyes wide as your heartbeat quickened. It got progressively more difficult to focus on the movie the closer you and Steve got, the couch was soft and plushy and it caused you two to be squished uncomfortably close.
The light from the tv illuminated the small room as the sun went down and all the sunlight was washed away with a tense darkness. You and Steve had movie nights all the time but this one felt…different. A tension was spread over you both, Steve’s jaw was tight as he avoided glancing at you, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to control himself once his eyes locked with your big glossy ones.
The movie was long forgotten, you and Steve were pressed together, his arm draped over your shoulder as you partially leaned into his chest. His warmth made you relax a bit, and you burrowed deeper into him, taking in the scent of him.
Steve’s heart was beating deafeningly in his chest, he could hardly stand the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. He couldn’t deny he had thought about you before but the past few weeks had been absolute torture, everywhere he looked he saw your shimmering eyes looking up at him.
It was all becoming far too much.
He was ashamed of how much you haunted his dreams, your doe eyes wide and glossy while he massaged your soft skin, bringing his lips down to your sweet, hot core while you mewled desperately, thighs trembling and wrapped around him.
He wanted to crash his lips into yours but the uncertainty ate him whole. He didn’t know what had happened between you and Eddie, he knew it left you very very sad seeing how you had been acting but he wouldn’t be the one to make the first move, he couldn’t lose you in case he was completely misreading the ever growing tension.
“Steve…” You were breathless, his name sounding oddly foreign and new on your tongue.
You had called to him hundreds of times before, but your unusually sultry voice sent electricity over Steve’s entire body, making the tiny hairs on his neck stand on edge like he had been shocked by a bolt of lightning.
“Yes?” Steve gulped, jaw tight and heart echoing in his chest.
You didn’t want to feel lonely anymore. You just wanted to feel something again.
You were painfully aware of Steve’s palm on your back, it sent bolts of lighting down your spine, maybe it was that you hadn’t been laid in a few weeks or the fact that Steve was smelling really, really good right now that made you feel a little woozy.
Before Steve could process what was happening you were straddling his lap, inches away from his face as you ran your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. Your touch made Steve go almost love-drunk as he looked up at you, his hands trailing over your hips, his fingertips brushing under your shirt and against your flesh.
Steve leaned forward, connecting your lips with his in which you both melted in, falling into one another as your teeth and tongues brushed against one another.
Steve could hardly think as his hands felt over your body, cupping your ass to pull you against his chest, his hardening dick in his pants pressing against your hot clothed cunt.
Steve explored your mouth, his tongue tracing over yours and prodigy around in your tongue before trailing down your neck and chest, hands massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples between the thin material of your clothes.
You whimpered, squirming slightly as you grinded against Steve’s dick through his jeans, looking for any relief from the growing tension deep in your core. You threw your head back as Steve pressed soft kisses and nips at your neck, then collarbone. All the way across your chest as he tugged your shirt down further. He wanted to taste every part of you. He was sure this was all a dream and he decided he was fine with that, because it was a damn good one.
You tugged your shirt off and tossed it aside, fumbling with the back of your bra for a moment as Steve leaned back further into the couch, his glossy blown eyes watching your every move as drool formed in his throat. Something about the way you moved, the slight blush along your cheeks that just left Steve woozy. Your thighs wrapped around him, doughy skin like sweet fucking silk.
You weren’t thinking, you just wanted to feel good, you were desperate for it. You had spent so much time crying. You just wanted to forget about the heartache.
You pulled yourself up off of Steve’s lap and tugged off your bra, dropping it beside the couch.
“Holy shit…” Steve ran a hand through his hair, tugging his shirt off and tossing it next to your pile of clothes.
You smiled gently, though a look of pain would still linger on your face. Steve leaned forward and cupped your face in his hand.
“Are you okay? We can stop.” Steve spoke gently. “Look, I don’t know what happened with you and-.”
“I want you, Steve.” You cut him off, eyes locked with his own.
You didn’t want to think about him. It hurt too much.
You tugged your jeans and panties off, kicking them aside, leaving you standing completely nude only inches from Steve HArrington, his hair disheveled and a slight blush across his face.
He practically groaned at the sight of you, the moonlight pouring into the room as he leaned forward to press soft kisses to your hips and thighs and then across your stomach, his hands guiding your hips to sit back on his lap.
“So beautiful…” He mumbled, his hands tracing right above your cunt, your legs trembling slightly as the pads of his fingers ran along the puffy folds, the lewd wet sound echoing like music to Steve as he pressed just the tips of his fingers to your core, curling and pressing against you just enough to make you whimper.
He chuckled, obviously pleased with himself. He leaned forward to nip and bite at the spongey part of your neck before pushing his long finger deep into your cunt, the pads on his fingers curling and fucking in and out of you with slow and meticulous patience. Steve held you against him now, still on his lap with one arm supporting you as the other worked into you, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.
“S-steve…” You whimpered, tears stinging the edges of your eyes as he inserted another finger into you, his thick long fingers filling you and making the heat pool in your stomach. You could hardly stand it.
“Yes, princess?”
“Fuck me…” You were practically begging, you could care less. “Please, Steve.”
His eyes went wide and he pulled his fingers from you and pressed them to his lips, running his tongue over his fingers to taste the sweet juices dripping down his wrist.
Your face went hot at the lewd act and all Steve could do was grin before tugging off his jeans as well, releasing his uncomfortably hard dick from them.
You gulped, eyes going wide for a moment. He was…so much bigger than any you had ever been with or seen before. Just the idea of how he would fit made you dizzy.
He ran his hand over his dick, running over his pink tip already leaking precum. He was beautiful, muscular and thick with a perfect stretching vein down the side.
“Think you can handle it, princess?” Steve tilted his head, almost mockingly.
You giggled, face red as crimson as he crashed his lips into yours, his hand cupping your chin as he stood up and swiftly scooped you up, carrying you down the hall. You couldn’t help but squirm and giggle as he pressed light kisses down your throat.
“You have to tell me if this is a dream,” Steve mumbled as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before he sat you down on the bed, standing between your legs as he cradled your face in your hands. “Because I can’t be let down by waking up again, I don’t know if this is real.” He rambled, pressing kisses all over your face as he took in your scent, trying to remember every last detail.
“It’s real, Stevie. I’m real.” You nodded, struggling to ignore the guilt bubbling up in your stomach.
Steve smiled at that, and he glowed like the sun.
You couldn’t help but smile back, throwing your arms around his neck as he laid you back gently, aligning his dick with your cunt as he rubbed the tip against your puffy folds, pressing just the head inside at first as your thighs trembled around him, your set cunt tightening around him as he groaned softly.
“Fuck…fuck…” You whimpered, back arching as Steve slowly fucked you with just the tip as you got used to how far he pushed against your walls.
Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as he fucked depper into you, your stomach twitching as he filled you up more and more until you were sobbing on his dick as he fucked you at a slow steady beat, his hips grinding against yours as the tip of his dick poked and prodded that hot spongey sweet spot deep in your cunt. It made your eyes roll into the back of your head as he used your hips to pull you down deeper onto him, his breathing getting faster and chest rising and falling.
“S-so…close.” You whimpered, twisting the sheets in your hands as Steve fucked into you, your stomach showing a slight bulge from where he fucked deep inside of you, his eyes glued to the sight as he pressed his thumb to your puffy clit which immediately sent you over the edge, toes curling as the bubbling heat boiled over you and you came with a start, legs trembling as you tightened and oozed around Steve’s throbbing cock as he came deep in you with a groan, his lips connecting with yours as he did before collapsing next to you on the bed.
You glance up at him, a big grin on his face as his fingers trailed over your arm. That was when you realized Eddie was right...you did love Steve. You had for a while.��
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The Bet-Chapter 1
18+ RC-1207 Sev x M!Reader, ~3000 words
>>Chapter 2<<
Originally posted here, cross-posted to AO3
Reader can be gender neutral but Sev calls them “pretty boy,” no Y/N, friends to fuck buddies, penetrative sex (reader giving), space swears, awkward first time, attempted kabedon, Sev almost suplexes you before he realizes you’re trying to flirt.
for @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe, inspired by our discord convo
“Sev.”
You tap the armored commando between his shoulder bell and cuirass, not that he notices. He really does live in the zone, more so than ever when he’s engrossed in his gunnery simulator. Two can play at that game. Literally. You maneuver yourself into the empty console beside him, adjust your headset, and log on.
“Oh-Seven,” you sing-song over the intercom.
“What?” he practically snarls. He pauses the simulator and yanks off his headset. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”
“I made something for you.” Wait one, you signal, and reach into your bag for a datastick. One of the nice ones. “It’s a new program. You know, since you already hold the high score for every single course in this simulator.”
Sev has clocked more hours at gunnery station 12-B than anyone else on the Prosecutor. It’s the only thing you think he likes.
Sev takes the datastick in his gloved hand, with a wide-eyed, not-quite-blank expression that borders on cute. "Oh. Thanks," he rasps, then he installs your custom program and he’s at it again.
You sit back to admire him, as usual. Sev is a hardass, but he relishes a challenge like this, and you secretly treasure the moments when you’re able to crack his armor and watch him shine through. You’ve put all your free time over the last month into making the perfect gift for Sev, and you savor his subtly elated reaction. He still beats the simulator sooner than you’d like.
“Where’d you get that?” he asks, genuinely curious and maybe even a little concerned.
“I told you, I made it.” Well, Fixer did contribute significantly to the project, but Sev doesn't need to know that yet. “I took a bunch of interesting tactics out of the declassified mission reports and programmed something that might actually present a challenge to you.”
Sev is impressed, you can tell, but that isn’t quite the reaction you're hoping for.
“C’mon." You offer him your hand. "Your squad’s waiting for you in the mess.”
Sev looks slightly wounded, glancing between you and the console.
“It’ll be there when you come back,” you laugh. “You can even upload it to your HUD if you want.”
Sev finally moves to get up, but he doesn’t take your hand. This may be tougher than you’ve anticipated.
You’re running out of ideas. You’ve already brought Sev spiced warra nuts at Scorch’s suggestion, and let him use your access code to shower in the rarely occupied maintenance workers’ locker room, and given him the good painkillers from your personal stash the last time he came back injured. Every time, his reaction is the same: “Oh. Thanks.”
The two of you turn towards the elevator, and suddenly the hall is deserted. A scene straight out of a holovid plays in your mind: you, spinning Sev to face you and pinning him against the wall. Looking into his wide eyes and telling him how you feel.
It’s silly, but it’s an idea. You’ve already tried pretty much everything else.
Acting on impulse, you catch Sev off guard, but only for a second. Before your palm can connect with the wall, he’s on you, and the next thing you know you’re both on the floor. His eyes are wide, but far more ferocious than flustered. His nostrils are flared, and he’s breathing hard. One hand is raised, forming a perfect fist, but it’s shaking. When you push it out of your face you can feel that his heart is pounding as fast as yours.
“Okay, so that didn’t-”
“Why did you do that?” Sev demands.
“I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry.” You should have known. Sev can’t turn off his training any more than you can turn off your attraction to him.
“I could have hurt you.”
But he hadn’t. His right hand, poised to strike, hadn’t so much as tapped you. His left still hasn’t moved from its protective position under your head.
“I’m okay, Sev. Are you?”
Sev takes several deep breaths and moves back so he’s kneeling on the floor between your splayed legs.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Why did you do that, though?”
“I was trying to fluster you.”
“Consider me flustered, mir’sheb.” Sev holds his hand out, palm down, still shaking violently.
“That doesn’t count. I meant flustered like butterflies, not flustered like a heart attack.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Sev lets you take his shaking hand and pull yourself up. He glares curiously when you don’t let go.
“I like you, dummy.”
Slowly, you lean forward and crowd him back towards the wall. This time, Sev doesn’t slam you into the floor.
“Why me?” he rumbles. It’s the softest you’ve ever heard his voice.
“I like hanging out with you. You’re interesting. Razor-focused. Handsome.”
“Handsome?” he snorts. “I look just like any of my brothers. If anyone’s handsome, it’s you.”
“Aww. Vor’entye, Sev’ika,” you say, and you feel him shudder beneath you.
“Did Scorch teach you that?”
“He knows you like it when I speak Mando’a.”
Sev groans like he’s upset about being found out, but it’s hardly a secret.
“I want you to teach me, though," you continue. "Like…how do I say, ‘Can I kiss you’?”
“Tion’lise ni murcyur gar?” Sev replies, fully aware that he walked right into that.
“Elek."
Sev cracks a smile, and then your lips are on his.
He’s hot, and he leans into you as you push him back, breath hitching as he struggles to stay upright. His hands stay firmly planted on the floor, pushing his body into yours when you finally settle over him. It’s clumsy, but you think it leaves him wanting more. By the time you pull away, his lips are parted and flushed, his breathing uneven, and his pupils dilated. Thoroughly flustered, one might say.
“Boss owes me twenty credits,” you smirk.
“What?”
“He didn’t think I could do it.”
“You…did this for a bet?”
“I did this because I wanted to,” you assert, leaning in to kiss Sev again, more soundly this time. “The bet’s just an added bonus.”
“Yeah…anything to prove Boss wrong…” Sev trails off breathlessly, eyes flicking between your face and where you’re basically sitting on his crotch.
“What are you thinking about, pretty boy?”
“Thinking ‘bout you riding me,” he mumbles.
“Hah,” you laugh, making him groan. This is moving faster than you’d anticipated, but you’re not about to complain. It’s Sev. You’ve wanted him for months. “Is that what you want?”
“Maybe.”
“Well what if I want you to ride me?”
Sev grins. “You wanna fuck me, pretty boy?”
“Absolutely.”
Sev grits his teeth, determined not to fall apart right then and there. “Where?” he urges. “Maintenance locker room?”
“I can do you one better.” You offer him a hand once more. He takes it this time. “Follow me.”
You end up raising a few eyebrows leading a clone commando through the heart of the temporary workers’ residential pods, even taking the path with the least activity and the fewest security cameras. Sev hardly cares. He’s so excited that he’s nearly tripping over his own feet, bumping and brushing against you at every chance he gets.
Your pod is tiny, but private, which is more than you can say about the communal barracks Sev is used to. It’s got a ‘fresher and a pull-down bed currently folded into the wall.
“Armor off,” you order the bulky commando taking up a good portion of the pod.
“‘M hard,” Sev hums absently.
“Good.”
Sev has to be more comfortable once he’s free of his armor, but he stands rigidly, his earlier eagerness dampened.
“You okay?” you ask, unbuckling your belt. “If you’re not, just say so. There’s no rush.”
Sev stands there, half naked, face set in deep contemplation for a moment before he speaks.
“You want this. I want this. Why wait?”
“Fair enough,” you reply. “Do you want to take the lead?”
“I need to shower.”
You gesture towards the sani-steam controls. “Go for it.”
“And lube.”
“Okay.”
Sev finishes undressing and activates the cleansing cycle, causing the pod to quickly fill with steam. He’s gorgeous like this, gradually relaxing as he washes his sweaty skin, eyes half closed like he’s afraid he’ll wake up and it’ll all be over.
“Mind if I join you?” you ask, pressing the cold container of lube into his flank and making him flinch.
“Please,” he sighs, taking the lube and then snaking an arm around your middle to pull you close and just rock back and forth in the shower stream. It must feel good for him, because he’s only getting harder. You adjust your positions so that you’re grinding your own arousal into his thigh, pressing wet, biting kisses everywhere your mouth can reach.
“This is nice,” you murmur against his solid form, “but there’s no way we’re getting clean like this.”
“Hmm,” Sev practically whines. He’s closed his eyes again.
“Look at me, Sev’ika.”
He leans back and cracks one eye open, a lazy smile on his lips. “I like it when you call me that.”
“I know. Now hurry up.”
The sani-steam isn’t meant for two people. Even when you’re far enough apart for the spray to cover you both, your elbows and hips still brush tantalizingly. Sev ends up finishing first, and when you rinse the last of the cleanser from your face, he’s watching you hungrily, leaning against the wall and rutting back on his own fingers.
“Hot,” you comment.
“Go get ready, I’ll join you in a second.”
“Steam vent’s there,” you inform him, leaving a fresh towel on the closest thing you have to a table and drying off before pulling the bed down from the wall.
You prepare yourself, working a biosheath over your length. Sev vents the steam and joins you on the bed, and you finally get a good look at him.
Tiny droplets of water cling to his ultra-short cropped hair and eyelashes. His skin is glowing from the heat of the shower, dark red love bites already starting to bloom along his neck and shoulders. Not only is he solidly built, but he is in absolute control of his body as he straddles your hips, gazing intensely into your eyes all the while.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“No, you,” Sev replies, and leans in for a long, slow kiss. He’s multi-tasking, working your mouth while his hands wander to your groin, guiding your cock to his entrance with no further preamble.
“What, just like that?” you huff. “No foreplay?”
“That was foreplay. I’m ready if you are. Like I said, why wait?”
“Fair enough,” you sass, repeating his earlier words, and lay back patiently to watch him work.
Sev is far too tight to take more than a few centimeters at first, and eerily silent as he stretches himself open on your tip.
“Talk to me, Sev.”
“About what?”
“Is this good for you?”
“It will be.” It’s hard to tell with Sev’s perpetual resting bitch face, but he doesn’t look particularly comfortable.
“Don’t force it. It’s not supposed to hurt.”
“Want you,” he growls, stubbornly grinding harder into your lap. “Waited long enough.”
“I want you, too, but you have to slow down. Can I touch you?”
“Yes.”
You reach between your bodies to stroke his erection, and he goes completely still.
“Sev?”
“Nnhg.” His eyes are screwed shut, and he bites his lip as he begins rocking forward into your fist.
“Good boy,” you croon. “Feels good?”
“Mm-hmm,” Sev hums, nuzzling under your chin. He’s gradually opening up, taking more of you into his heat each time he rocks back. “Gonna cum.”
Without warning, he slams himself down all the way to your base, punching a groan from your lungs. Sev’s legs are trembling as he works himself mercilessly to a hard and fast orgasm. At the last moment, he flings himself forward, crushing you desperately to his chest as his load gushes over both your bellies.
“Dank farrik,” you gasp. “That was-”
“I’m not done,” Sev interrupts.
He’s gone utterly boneless in your lap, but somehow his ass is still squeezing you with the strength of a vise. Between that and his full body weight resting on top of you, you can barely move. Sev is more than determined to take care of you, though. He draws his legs around your hips and rocks your bodies together, lube squelching around his rim. Soon enough you’re gliding deliciously in and out of his hole, and Sev is groaning melodically, looking entirely pleased with himself.
“You know, Sev,” you say between pants, “If I’d known you’d like this so much I’d have said something a lot sooner.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” he pleads with his face pressed into your shoulder.
“I’ve got you.”
You grip Sev’s ass, spreading his cheeks gently and holding him in place as you press into him. He’s perfectly receptive now, precious little whimpers spilling from his lips as he rests his forehead against yours. You find a comfortable, satisfying rhythm, Sev’s body engulfing you completely with every thrust.
“Gorgeous,” you murmur as you stroke his cheek. “This is just what you needed, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Sev is drowning in your attention, and loving every second of it. “Don’t stop.”
You don’t plan on stopping for a long time. You drag out your thrusts, making him writhe, and take your time squeezing back in. Even as the intensity grows, your full focus is on Sev’s pleasure.
He deserves this. He works so hard, and gets so little in return.
You pull back to look him in the eyes. His gaze quickly changes from blissed out to faintly annoyed.
“You still there?” you tease.
“Obviously.” Sev rolls his eyes before tucking his face back into your neck and deliberately clenching around you.
You twitch, hard. “You did that on purpose.”
“No shit.” He does it again.
“Sev,” you gasp, driving into him hard. “Stars, Sev, that’s good.”
“Gonna make you cum,” he says, swirling his whole body around your tip and impaling himself with a bounce. “Harder,” he urges. “Wanna feel it.”
You’re more than happy to oblige. You chase Sev’s warmth with your whole being, and he reciprocates with even more fervor. He dances on top of your thighs, giving himself over completely to the sensation, yet never slowing. He can’t get enough.
You’re throbbing everywhere your bodies are connected, sticky and totally in tune. You run your palms up and down his back, count four breaths, and then you’re pulsing, over and over, relief washing over your senses like an unstoppable flood.
“Yesss,” Sev groans. He’s solid and demanding as his body absorbs the shock of your orgasm and radiates pure satisfaction, and he still doesn’t stop. He’s thrashing on top of you, blunt nails digging into your back. His wild, slick movements are threatening to dislodge the biosheath.
You grab at his hips to still him, and feel him cum. He has nothing left to ejaculate, but the way his body melds perfectly around you and then freezes can’t be anything else. For a moment, your bodies are one, but Sev is somewhere far, far away.
You stroke his hair and catch your breath, nestled securely inside him. You’re still holding him when he regains awareness.
“Welcome back,” you say, and Sev wheezes like he’s trying to laugh but his body won’t cooperate. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
Sev still has that dazed, dreamy look about him when you pull out, careful not to make a mess. You help him to his feet and steer him wordlessly towards the shower to clean up.
“Gonna be late for third meal,” Sev blathers, gazing at you like you’ve given him the galaxy. Dick drunk, his brothers would probably say.
“I’ll go eat with you if your squad doesn’t wait up,” you reply.
“What are we?” The sharp clarity is back in Sev’s eyes. He’s probably overthinking things again.
You pause to consider the sudden question, long enough to give Sev an honest answer. Friends? Lovers? Neither feels quite right.
“Fuck buddies?” you offer.
“Has a nice ring to it,” Sev muses. “I’m okay with that.” For a long, tender moment, Sev hugs you. “What are we gonna tell my brothers?”
“What a big softy you are,” you joke.
“Don’t you dare.”
“I don’t think it needs much explaining. I’ll just tell them that I won the bet.”
Sev snorts like he does when he’s exasperated, but there’s a smile in his eyes.
He stands shakily, and you have to help him back into his pants so he doesn’t lose his balance. You know he’s had worse, you’ve seen him in the aftermath of battle, but Sev can play weak with you if he wants. He flings an arm over your shoulders and you take his relaxed hand. By the time you make it to the mess hall, he’s leaning on you like he’s too drunk to stay upright.
Conveniently enough, the rest of Delta squad are still at their usual table.
“You’re late,” Fixer complains.
“And I win. Pay up, Boss.”
Boss turns in his seat to examine you, his discerning gaze falling on Sev and no doubt honing in on his brother’s unusually content expression, wobbly legs, and every single love bite visible above his collar. Wordlessly, he hands you twenty credits.
“Really, Boss?” Sev grumbles.
“You ought to be thanking me,” Boss says.
It takes Sev a moment to catch on. “You planned this?”
Boss just looks pointedly between Fixer and Scorch across the table.
“You all planned this?”
“What can I say?” Scorch mumbles with his mouth full.
“That the sexual tension between you two was starting to grow its own gravitational field,” Fixer finishes for him.
“Yeah. What he said.”
“Oh. My. Gods.” Sev stomps off, managing not to fall over just fine.
“He’ll see reason eventually,” you say, joining your favorite squad at the dining table. “What’s good tonight?”
“Squares.” Scorch swallows hard, and nearly chokes. “They almost have flavor.”
Sev returns from the mess line with a tray and pointedly sits far away from Delta’s table, wincing when his ass hits the cold plastoid bench. Traitor, he mouths at you from across the room.
You just blow him a kiss.
“Well, boys,” you say, turning back to Sev’s brothers. “I call that mission accomplished.”
#clone thirsting#clone trooper x reader#x gn reader#x male reader#x reader#clone commando sev#delta squad#smut#my fic
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GUESS WHO’S BACK
I HAVE AWOKEN FROM MY *checks calendar* TWO YEAR SLUMBER! MAY THE G/T ANGST RAIN DOWN UPON THIS PAGE ONCE MORE!
In all seriousness though, hi! I’ve got some news!
I don’t know if anyone will still remember this, but I used to have a sideblog a few years ago where I posted my g/t story called See Me. Unfortunately, I decided to delete that sideblog for a number of reasons, but eventually I came back to my main and said I’d put See Me somewhere else, potentially on AO3. Right after I said that, I asked for an invitation to AO3, did a little bit of waiting and then... totally forgot about it.
What can I say? We were in the heat of Covid times, my mental health was at an ATL, I was moving, and lots of other adult stuff happened. Since then, I just felt kind of bad about returning to this page with no new content of my own to put out. I used to write a lot and enjoy it, but lots of stuff in my life has been going on the past two years that hasn’t really motivated me to do any writing or creating of any kind. I know that I could still be liking and reblogging stuff, but coming back here just made me miss what I used to create, so I stopped for a little while.
BUT NOT FOR LONG! While it may not sound great, through a lot of self-reflection and therapy, I’ve kind of discovered that nowadays, I turn to g/t content when I’m going through a hard time. And, not gonna lie, I’m DEEP in the trenches from fucked up life events right now, so naturally, I found myself back on tumblr to connect with the g/t community again. But not on this page. That’s right! I made a new page and I’ve been LURKIN’ out here! And no, I will not reveal what that page is, but feel free to tell me if you think you’ve figured it out and I’ll be more than happy to tell you if that page is me or not.
Anyway, since I’ve been lurking and consuming as much g/t content as I can get my hands on, I’ve also gone back to my own archives and read through See Me about a billion more times. Not only did I polish it up a lot while keeping everything pretty much the same (mostly fixing spelling and grammar) but I also just told myself “you know what, I still really like this story.” And reading so many other amazing stories from other g/t writers on here really inspired me to finally get out there and put See Me back into the universe, while also writing a few new stories and AUs in the process that will hopefully see the light of day at some point.
ALL OF THAT TO SAY... I did it. See Me is finally up on AO3 right now! At least, MOST of it is. I really had to take a hard look at my word doc and think “why did I do this to myself” when I counted 39 chapters with almost 400 pages that I wanted to reread, edit again, and possibly add some polish on, chapter by chapter before putting it on AO3. As of writing this, I started uploading chapters last night and am currently done uploading chapter 19. So... about halfway done! I’m still going to keep uploading as I had the time to do so (I do have work tomorrow so... not as much time as the weekend but I’m going to post more) and eventually all 39 chapters will be available just as you remember them (or are reading for the first time if you never got to read See Me before).
I’ll also be uploading any of the prompt stories and other short stories I made to AO3, and any prompts that I get and write here in the future will be available there as well. Like I said, I have some new ideas too, some AUs and some completely new universes with new OCs that have also been sitting in my hard drive since I first started writing g/t stuff years ago. I’m hoping to keep up this motivation and to eventually write and put out those stories on AO3 too, so stick around for that if you’re interested!
To anyone that is still following this page and has maybe even been waiting for See Me to come back, thank you for your patience and support. I hope you still enjoy what I put out there, and I hope to keep up this motivation to create, even after things hopefully get better in my personal life.
As a little aside, some of the big motivators in my comeback, even though they wouldn’t know it, are @not-a-space-alien with their story Watch Your Step, @marydublinauthor and @bittykimmy13 with all their wonderful Shot In The Dark and Print/Trinket stories (please go buy their books, they are absolutely amazing), and @ratcatcher0325 with their stories A Fraction of Justice and Nobody’s Fool. I know that these tags might come out of nowhere for all of you, as I don’t think I’ve interacted with any of you personally on this account, but your stories inspire me so much that it really pushed me to put my work back out there again, especially if my work could make someone as happy as all your stories make me. So thank you! I look forward to reading all that you create in the future! And in case you’re thinking “but you only just started following me today/recently,” well, like I said, I’ve been lurking on another account, so I’m sure you might’ve seen me there and just not known it. Anyway, keep up the amazing work, and everyone else please go read their stuff! It’s awesome and full of g/t goodness!
Well, I think that’s everything I had to say. I’m going to try and be more active on here and not just update about my AO3, because I don’t think that would be very fun. I’ll still get on here and like and reblog things that I like so feel free to stick around and interact. And if you want to interact with my work, please visit my AO3 page right here, or search for whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3! I’d love to see you there! Here’s to the future and I hope you all have some happy holidays coming up!
- Mo-Mo
TLDR; Life sucks but I’ve posted See Me, my g/t story, on AO3 so it’s back on the internet. You can read that and anything else I write on my page right here, or find me under the same username whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3!
#whatthisfemshepthinks#whatthisfemshepwrites#g/t#g/t stories#g/t writing#see me#Tori and Wesley#there is a hint about my second account on this post
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Dude I’m officially obsessed with your writing. I started reading In Command because Rex is my man but then I saw you uploaded the newest chapter of One Step at a Time and decided to see what it was about and that immediately launched me into reading the full series so far. I can’t man. I don’t even know where to begin. First of all chapter 6 had me bawling my eyes out and I had to take a couple hours to cope with how broken Chuck was in that chapter. Understandly I started reading at a point where he was screwing Endi into the next dimension but I wasn’t expecting how wholesome this story would be and the relationship him and the kids would develop with each other. I love their little family. I love how much they trust each other and are starting to open up to each other. I’m so excited to see how Chuck will break the news to Endi on their past because I only think it’d make her more protective of them and she’ll only love them all more with everything they’ve been through. And don’t get me started on how you ended that last chapter. I’m in pain woman. How dare you take our sweet man Chucks peaceful life away. I’m just playing. Fuck shit up. I’ll eat every bit of it up.
THIS IS SO VERY KIND AND PLEASE KNOW THIS MESSAGE MADE MY ENTIRE DAY. THIS WAS SO LOVELY!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying In Command, but I am SO VERY HYPED that you're loving OSaaT just as much. I know I've said this before, but it's always a little nerve-wracking when writing an OC-centric fic because it's likely most people won't be as interested without canon characters, but Chuckles, Nita, and Arni are SO VERY IMPORTANT TO ME, and I could never have predicted how much I love all of them. I've really tried to capture all aspects of Chuck's life, because yeah, while he's got a set of adopted kids now, he's also a guy in his late 20s who's looking for the same thing a lot us are: a steady ground to build a life on, and in some cases, companionship (and all of the horny moments that might come with that hehe). He's just doing his best, and I APOLOGIZE YOU JUMPED IN RIGHT WHEN THE ANGST DEMONS CAME OUT TO PLAY. I promise more things will get clarified in the next chapter, but also, I AM EXCITED/NERVOUS to see what you think of what's to come in the rest of this fic! THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE VERY KIND COMMENT!!!!
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Idk what im doing, but i love Haechan, so lets write big for him. English is not my first lenguage, so pardon me. This is goin to be long as fuck, guys, Kinda inspired by LOVE by Peggy and tonst of other songs. Meaby ill do a playlist later
L.O.V.E
Being an emerging writer wasn't as nice as it sounded in the media, your previous novel had been everything critics loved, six million copies so far and some occasional award nomination.
Writing a psychological mystery story had been the best decision of your life, after years of spending time behind your laptop uploading things on your little (not so little) blog, it all brought you here, at this precise moment.
Your publisher wanted to exploit your success to the maximum, of course you had more works already done, but exclusivity was something that fans paid for "Write something new, make it good, it's clear that mystery is your thing, however , another novel of the same thing is not interesting, do something else" "Like what?" "'How about romance? Use your experiences, I don't know"
It's been three months since that conversation and almost two since your story blew up, it's been almost two months since you delivered the first draft of your romantic idea that your editor threw out the window declaring it was "poor"; to be honest you don't know how it happened at all but the next chapter was about you in the middle of Seoul in a cafe that opens 24hrs at the beginning of january
The cold in your hometown was moderate compared to Seoul, the snow was sometimes so thick that you thought twice before leaving your rented apartment, during the day it was bearable but when night came the beautiful view didn't made up for everything, that is why you still wonder how it was a good idea to go out on a snowy afternoon to get stuck in the cafe where you are now, where you are watching your next big hit.
He was wearing a blue sweeter and black jeans, the beanie traying to hide his brown hair and the black gloves still covering his hands; the warm inside the coffe shop and some indie song playing in the back complete the scene, its almost like you were watching a movie form direfent cuts were the lead meets their first love
His smile was big and he kep talking with his friends about something you have no idea, the idea you were currunlty working on, now forgotten, you opened a new word stared at the white new doc, you knew this was super childsish and meaby innapropiated but every inspiracion wave you could have was welcomed and needed at this point.
"His brown hair felt soft beteween my fingers, his arms making me feel secured and stady, his nose caressed my cheek before placing a kiss on it, while whispering a soft I love you, everything felt ten times bigger, the love bubbling in my chest, the chills in my arms, the beating of my heart so fast that I could hear it in my ear, the small doses of his lips on mine, he and I here and now we belonged to each other, we belonged together, this little space that we created inside my room, in my bed, under the covers, just him and me."
You were so focused on writing that you didn't see when the golden-skinned stranger left the place. By the time you looked back he was gone and along with him, your last chance for some inspiration.
The days passed with some tranquility after that meeting, the image of that stranger still alive in your brain was enough to fantasize about your next scenes.
It wasn't like you had a "love at first sight" moment, you didn't really believe in it, but with your current state, it could easily be confused with it.
"I understand that a lot of this is new to you, but you can't take pictures and sign things all the time," your editor told you on his sixth call of the day.
"I am a writer, not the president, it's not a big deal if I spend some time with my readers, the least I can give them back is a little time, a couple of photos and a few signatures is nothing"
The news that you were in Seoul spread fast after photos your readers shared on some forums went viral. One of the main characters in your novel is of Korean descent, sounds silly, but maybe that's why your work liked there too, so somehow there are people who know you on this side of the world.
"Is it true that you are already working on your next novel? You haven't uploaded anything to your blog" asked a tall boy with black hair and heart-shaped lips.
"Do you follow my blog?"
"Of course, I'm a big fan of yours, ever since I read 'The Queen Is Dead' I knew you had talent, I don't have my copy of 'Intertwined Mysteries' with me, can you sign my diary? For Johnny, please"
Your editor can say what he wants, but you love your readers.
"I work at a radio station, we do cultural radio, I know it might be a bit abusive but would you consider going? My producer loves your work just the same"
"Give me your contact and I'll see what I can do"
Your editor, who in some ways seems more like your manager, did not want you to attend a radio show in a foreign country and without him having reviewed the interview first, however, after speaking with him and promising to send him your new draft, you were sitting next to Johnny in his car going to the building where the radio station operated.
"I can't believe you're really coming, the whole team was so excited, we really appreciate it"
"The pleasure is mine, thanks for having me there, I'm a little nervous"
"Don't worry about anything being there, I will be your assistant, translator, guide and friend for today"
The building was huge like everything in Korea, it looked like a place where there would be executives and not people doing radio, Johnny spent a good time introducing you to the different teams in the place, not just the production as you thought.
The floor where Johnny and his team worked was a few floors up, you both got on the elevator when you heard someone yell
"Hyung, Hyung" and what you could interpret as a "Stop the elevator"
"Oh Haechannie"
And then you saw it, your next big hit.
#haechan nct#nct fics#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct dream#nct 127 fluff#nct wayv#lee haechan#haechan imagines#haechan fluff#nct 00 line#nct u#sm rookies#lee donghyuck
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Hybrid/baby-verse question: so, I suppose these two fics are some kind of alternative universe of each other, but are they, like, the same fic with a baby in the middle or two different stories that just fit right for the same concept? I ask because I have such a weak spot for hybrid Alice and I wanted to know if the Main Version Alice is the same as Mom Alice (which is also something I didn't know I'd like that much, to be honest). And also, are any of these in your list for ficmas? Because I'd absolutely love to read more of both of these fics!
Hi Anon!
So, Hybrid and Baby-verse are two separate fics with separate plots but in the same universe. It's very much a situation of "if Cynthia hadn't needed a lift home from the res that day, Alice and Jasper would have fooled around without birth control." The plots have a small amount of crossover (Renesmee and the Volturi are players in both), but I wouldn't make anyone sit through the same fic twice. I don't even like writing dual POVs of chapters unless there's brand new information to be presented.
I honestly haven't spent a lot of time on baby-verse yet - I have the OG variations on my hard drive, dot points on this new version that has a unique plot of its own, and what I've posted. Things I've posted can and will still be retconned in the Official Version.
I really, really need to write Hybrid in full to establish the lore, the world-building, and the dynamic between the characters, especially since Alice's family plays such a large role, as well as Alice herself. This is a version of Alice that has lived a hard, inbetween life with dreams of Jasper being her little light of hope. She never knew she was going to end up with her fathers and her sister. (I think my no-good outline for it tapped out at 64 chapters, unfinished? It's unusable, but it gives you the idea of the scale I was working with.)
I like to think that Hybrid Alice as a mom is still fundamentally same character with interests and aspirations and a life outside of her kid. I want her to be. To start with, I avoid Baby Fics like the goddamn plague. I think the majority of them are fucking awful and inherently stupid. Baby-verse only came about because I was on some really fun sleep medications. I don't want anyone to have to suffer through the typical gross tropes and OOC nonsense that we already have plenty of and I myself hate. And second of all, there's no point building on Hybrid-verse if Alice isn't, at her core, the same character.
I think when you write characters are parents, it's really important not to let the kid eclipse the characters and the plot. They still need to be themselves. I think it's also important to note that the story is predominantly about Alice and Jasper. I don't want to spoil anything, but no one is bringing a baby along when there's a Crisis. That's just shitty parenting.
And there's no shame skipping a fic you don't enjoy. I want anyone who reads my stuff to be having a Good Time. I usually have at least 2 fics going concurrently, so when I start to upload this, there will be an Alternative. Even if I am the slowest, most inconsistent updater in history.
There's a strong likelihood that something from Hybrid will show up because I have so much of them. I don't know what, but I honestly haven't finished compiling my list yet and I'm also not going to tell anyone exactly Ficmas will contain because that spoils the surprise.
#my fic: hybrid#we are here for alice being a mom in heels and a cute outfit whilst sassing everyone#i will see if i still have the og epilogue for hybrid somewhere#it might be handwritten but i'll go digging#because it was like#alice going to college in nyc as a fashion student cool girl#and going to the cullens place outside the city on weekends#it was a cute ending#runaway and magnolia have a better chance being uploaded first because they are more straight forward shorter and are closer to completion#just to be totally transparent#but also it depends on my flights of fancy
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I decided to rewrite part of the companion smut piece to cj pt2 and managed to finish it quick. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but it's good enough for me be comfortable with leaving it alone until I have to actually upload it at which point I'm probably gonna rewrite a bit more of it.
I think part of the reason I struggled so much with this is because I got an idea for a new fic and it's been all I could fucking think about.
The very first chapter notes of Channel Jackal featured me saying something about how the general outline for cj came to me pretty much in a daze and the exact same thing fucking happened again when I saw fanart for this ship that I didn't even ship at that time and thought up a little scene that I then built half a fanfic out of in the span of a couple hours. The other half was a bit more murky, but I've since fleshed it out. The fanart itself looks nothing like what I came up with.
I wanna write it so fucking bad, but I know myself and I know that if I don't finish cj pt2 first I'm never gonna fucking finish it. There's three chapters of cj pt2 left to do and I'm really excited for the one I'm about to start writing (spoilers: it's another Valentine's chapter wonder what's about to happen 👀) but also that other fic is fucking haunting my every thought.
So, I'll finish cj pt2, do the stupid fic in my head, then cj pt3.
I didn't even ship them. And I don't wanna tell you guys what ship it is because you'll judge me for it and I'll deserve the judgment, I agree, but I don't wanna deal with it so if I do end up finishing that other fic and deciding to upload it I might make a different ao3 account for it and never tell y'all what it is. I'll probably flip a coin to decide.
Why must I be this way. I'm so fucking tired.
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Continuing to upload my older Doctor Who stories. Another of my favorite chapters. This is a really intimate scene without it becoming NSFW. It is one of my favorite Doctor/ Rose interactions that I’ve ever written. Also, if you have any tips or anything for how I can better mark these, I would appreciate any advice. If you would like a tag when I upload a new chapter let me know.
This story follows Rose Tyler and her unexpected return to the TARDIS during the year that never was. It has been a long separation for Earth's defender and she is not the same girl she once was. She is having a difficult time coming to terms with some major changes to her physiology, as well as battling her personal demons, while hiding from the Master. Against all odds, Rose needs to find her Doctor and reverse this hellish year before it is too late.
Prologue| Chp1| Chp2| Chp3| Chp4| Chp5| Chp6| Chp7| Chp8| Chp9| Chp10| Chp11| Chp12| Chp13| Chp14
Chapter 15: Would I Have Ever Found a Reason
AO3
Rose was pulled from sleep, kicking and screaming, by a strange noise.
Hummmm, hummm, click, click. Hummmm, click, click, click.
Her sleep addled mind floundered, irritation rising to the forefront in place of rational thought. The noise came again. Jack…Rose stifled a growl. They had one rule, just one: don’t use loud as fuck tools while she was sleeping. Whatever he was using, she could feel the vibration of it in her brain. It rattled her teeth and sinuses with an annoying tickle. Rose wanted to move, to pull her pillow over her head and fall into oblivion once more but her arms ached at the slightest twitch of the muscles.
Hummmm, hummm, click, click. Hummmmm, click.
Argh! Rose needed something to throw at his head but that would require getting out of bed. That wasn’t happening. She was so tired and her body felt leaden with fatigue. She just wanted to sleep. It wasn’t as if she were asking for the fucking moon here.
“What?” Rose heard someone whisper in disbelief.
That wasn’t Jack’s voice… that was… In a rush, the events of the day flooded Rose’s mind. What happened? Last thing she remembered was kneeling across from the Doctor, her hands on the Master’s chest, desperate to heal him, and then…nothing. She must have passed out.
Her eyelids fluttered open and blurry shapes resolved into solid familiar forms. Rose was well acquainted with this room, the TARDIS’ med bay. She had spent too frequent a time within its deceptively soothing walls. The lights were turned down low, casting a comforting green glow against the golden coral. Rose’s mind still felt detached, floating in a lulling fog. She was so warm, cocooned in pleasant lethargy by layers of blankets. Rose’s lids drooped and she almost surrendered to the Sandman once again.
Hummmm, click, click, click.
Her eyes popped open, landing on the beloved shape sat on the stool at her bedside. Doctor. Theta. She smiled, finding in his presence the energy to remain conscious. They were home, together...finally. God she missed him so much. Every minute of these last twelve years Rose felt his absence like an ache in the center of her chest. Seeing the Doctor again after all this time felt surreal. After all that had passed between them, here they sat, together in the infirmary like they had a hundred times before. It felt like a dream, like he was almost too perfect to be real.
Hummm, hummm, hummm.
Bloody hell, what was that sound? It was interrupting her ogling and really starting to irritate her. Rose refocused on her Time Lord, trying to put it from her mind. She rarely had the chance to observe him unknown and wanted to take stock of every detail. The Doctor’s hair was a disheveled chestnut mess but, then again, when wasn’t it? He had habit of running his hands through it when he was stressed. A cruel tick to keep all to himself, especially when her fingers were more than willing to take over the task. His brow was furrowed in concentration, glasses perched on his nose, and a pout fixed on his lips as he tapped furiously at the monitor.
Rose blinked her sleep heavy eyes and almost sighed. Did he even know how sexy he was in those glasses?
The humming sound came to an abrupt end and her annoyance vanished. The Doctor dropped his head, a small smile playing on his lips before he turned and looked her right in the eye.
Rose’s eyes went wide. Had he heard her?
He chuckled and tucked the glasses into his pocket. “I only hear the really loud ones, don’t worry.”
“Well, that’s not gonna be awkward,” she replied, voice rough from a dry throat.
“Hang on.” The Doctor jumped to his feet and made his way to the small sink at the back of the infirmary. Returning, he held a proffered glass of water.
“Thank you.” Rose downed it in greedy gulps.
“Slow down,” he warned, his warm eyes flicking over her face. “Don’t want you to be sick.”
Rose set the glass down on the bedside table and met his curious gentle gaze. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, unsure what to say in this moment. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Where did they start?
“How are you feeling?” the Doctor asked.
That was as good a place as any she supposed. Rose grimaced. “Like I have the flu. I’m achy and exhausted and there was this buzzing sound that was really irritating but it’s gone now. My head just aches a bit.”
“Buzzing?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I thought it was Jack. Our living quarters were pretty close and he drove me crazy with all of his noise. I thought he was using a power tool in the console room. It was like a vibration almost.”
“Ah.” The Doctor looked down, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That was probably me. You were picking up on my emotions. I was frustrated. I’m sorry.”
“That was you?”
“Yes.” He huffed, rubbing at his tired eyes with one hand. “I’m not used to having someone in my head, anymore. Its…well, its an adjustment.”
“Oh.” Rose looked down at her hands, flushing with self-consciousness. It annoyed her. Why did she suddenly feel like a nineteen-year-old girl again? Simple and small and insecure in her abilities. She was a strong confident grown woman, for love of god.
“Hey.” The Doctor scooped up her hand and twined their fingers together. “I’m not cross. It’s just a bit…” He blew out a breath. “Overwhelming.”
“Oh,” she replied a little breathless. Argh! Could she sound more like a daft lovesick child? She wasn’t a teenager! Rose cleared her throat. “So, why are you frustrated?”
The Doctor gave an angry sigh. “The TARDIS is being stingy with information. I was looking through your scans, comparing them to previous ones and trying to pinpoint any changes. Especially, when you might have developed any kind of telepathy. I didn’t find much.”
“Oh.” She gazed at their hands, weaving and unweaving their fingers. “Well, she’s probably still recovering. She doesn’t mean to hide things. She just needs a little bit of time to...organize her thoughts.” Rose glanced at him, a pointed look in her eyes that made it clear they were no longer talking about just the TARDIS.
He studied her for a long moment and took a deep breath. “I suppose I can give her that,” the Doctor replied, placing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, well clear of the IV taped there.
Rose suppressed a shiver. “I’m sure she appreciates it.”
“You’ve been through a fair bit of trauma today,” he reasoned, dropping the pretense. “I guess time isn’t too much to ask for, especially given how tired you are.”
“Reading thoughts again? That’s not very polite, Doctor.”
“It doesn’t take a mind reader to see that you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. It makes me think that I should have given you a sedative. You need some rest.”
“You look pretty tired yourself. How long has it been since you had a full night’s sleep? Well, a full night for you anyway.”
“Its been a while.” The Doctor’s vague reply was a deliberate dodge but Rose arched a brow, refusing to let it go, and at last he sighed. “A full night’s sleep? It’s been about…two years.”
She looked down, blushing and understanding the implications. Toward the end of their time together, they had adopted a habit of sleeping in the same bed. It had started off simple enough, just some easy comfort between friends after a nightmare. What it developed into made their relationship lines even more blurry. Sleeping on top of the covers with a friend, holding her hand to keep the bad dreams at bay was platonic enough. You could still consider yourselves 'just mates.' But what do you call it when you wake up half-dressed under the warm covers, limbs tangled together and lips pressed against warm skin? Rose had never asked and the Doctor had never volunteered an explanation but it made for some of the best sleep of her life.
“That’s a long time to go without something so…vital,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Yes. It is.” Their gaze locked for long moments before he cleared his throat and glanced away. “Are you sure that you don’t want a little more sleep?”
“I’m fine. I’d rather talk to you,” Rose responded.
“Okay, what’s on your mind?”
“How does this work?” she asked, gesturing between them. “I mean, can everyone hear my thoughts? Because that sounds like my worst nightmare.”
The Doctor chuckled, shaking his head. “No, just me and, like I said, only the really loud ones.”
“Oh well, I will try to think quietly then,” Rose replied.
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Well, uncomfortable for her. Theta seemed perfectly content to just look at her.
His eyes travelled over her features as if committing them to memory. “You’re awfully quiet for someone who would rather talk than sleep. Is something bothering you?”
Rose bit her lip and the Doctor raised a questioning brow. “The Master,” she started. “He said that I was projecting everything.”
“You probably were,” he agreed. “You don’t have psychic barriers in place and that can make you easy to read. We’re touch telepaths though, so, without a connection like ours, the Master couldn’t have known your thoughts...not unless he was touching you and, even then, it’s very unlikely. It takes a rather intimate, deliberate connection to do that. It would require dropping his psychic defenses; which the Master would never have done. But he wouldn’t need to know your thoughts to interpret what you’re feeling. He was probably reading your emotions. No offense to you, but you’re kind of shouting them at everyone. The Master was always very good at that. It made him a skilled manipulator.”
She shifted under her blankets unable to look him in the eye. “You keep using the past tense. Is he... Did I?” Rose didn’t know how to ask the question and, despite how gentle he was being with her, she was still afraid to.
The Doctor swallowed, a frown tugging at his lips. “I am once again the last of the Time Lords. He-he’s gone.”
Ice shivered down her spine and her mouth went dry. Rose broke into tears, pulling her hand from his to cover her face. “Oh god. Doctor, I’m so sorry. I tried; I swear I tried.” While logically she understood that he couldn’t hold her responsible for his death by any stretch of the imagination, there was still a small voice in her head that shouted: Please don’t hate me! Please don’t leave me!
“What?” he exclaimed, face going ashen. “No, no, no, no. Oh Rose.”
The Doctor pulled back her covers and hopped into the small bed with her. Dodging her IV tube and other wires, he pulled her onto his lap. Rose resisted at first but he cuddled her closer, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. She gave in, curling her fingers into his shirt and weeping until her chest ached. It wasn’t fair. Rose had worked so hard. She had ripped herself apart and, after all of that, she had failed him. She felt ashamed and angry with herself...with her weakness. If she had just given a little bit more.
“Oh no, Rose. Don’t think like that. Please. Just relax.”
His comfort was useless against Rose’s guilt. She felt like she had stolen something from him. The Doctor missed his home and people with such ferocity. Yet, when the time came for her to relieve a modicum of that pain for him, she hadn’t been strong enough. Helplessness swallowed her, dragging her further into the chaotic storm of her mind.
Rose was ready to drown in it, to wallow in her onus but, ever so slowly, her mental waters grew quiet. Her brow furrowed in confusion as genuine affection, admiration, and absolution filtered into her mind. These emotions were different, foreign but familiar. They passed from the Doctor’s mind into hers, infusing her with warmth and quieting her self-condemnation. After several moments, Rose drifted in a calm serenity that made her muscles unwind.
“What’re you doing?” she mumbled.
“Nothing,” the Doctor replied, sifting his fingers through the silken length of her hair.
“Yes you are,” she slurred, pleasant tingles working their way through her body. “I can feel you. You feel good.”
“I’m just trying to comfort you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes,” she sniffled. “Especially when I don’t deserve it. M’so sorry, Doctor.”
He lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Rose you have nothing to be sorry for. I know how hard you tried…how hard I pushed you.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I can’t believe I almost-“ He growled, shaking his head, his mouth drawn into a distressed frown.
“Hey,” Rose cooed, cupping his jaw. “Its okay. I’m okay. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t…”
The Doctor leaned down, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. “You did everything you could. You tried to save a being who had only ever hurt you and you did it for me. How could I possibly hate you for that?”
“I just…you were so upset and-“ God, Rose hated how pathetic she sounded but she just couldn’t help it. In truth, all she wanted was to have him hold her, accept her…love her. And maybe the Master was right, maybe that made her weak, maybe it made Rose pitiful but what could she say? Twelve years apart had only deepened her need for the Doctor. And yes, she knew that she was strong, she knew that she could survive without him but…she just didn’t want to anymore. Rose wanted to do more than survive.
“Shhh.” The Doctor pulled back and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Rose Tyler there are very few things that you could do that would make me hate you. Most of them would require you becoming a completely different person. No, I don’t hate you and I will never leave you. I don’t think I could. The TARDIS is your home. You belong here.” With me.
It was unspoken but heard by both. Rose’s heart stuttered under the Doctor’s tender gaze. He was so close that she could feel his cool breaths against her cheek. If she lifted her head just an inch, she could press her lips against his. He stroked his thumb along her jaw, eyes dark and intent on her. A shiver rolled down Rose’s spine and settled in her belly like glowing ember. Her eyes slipped closed, a quiet moan escaping her lips, until she heard Theta blow out a shaky breath and her lashes lifted.
“This is going to be difficult,” he spoke breathlessly.
Rose could feel his hearts going wild beneath her palm. “What?”
The Doctor leaned down to press his forehead to hers and she went boneless, melting against him as their connection pulsed, shining like a solar flare in her mind. “Do you know what this is between us, Rose?”
“A little.” She licked her lips, shifting in his lap.
Theta groaned.
Rose froze, looking up into his smoldering eyes. “Sorry.”
His fingers twined into her hair as he tilted her head back and whispered against her lips, “Don’t be.”
“Doc!” Jack’s voice jolted them apart as he turned in through the infirmary door and came to an abrupt halt, staring at them with wide eyes. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
Rose almost growled out her frustration. YES! GET OUT!
The Doctor burst into laughter and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s fine, Jack. Come in.”
She looked up at him in disbelief. WHAT?!
He smiled and shook his head. “You need to have quieter thoughts.” The Theta lowered his voice to a whisper. “And as much as I do not want to share you right now Rose Tyler...” He paused brushing some hair away from her face. “Jack needs to see you, too. He was very worried.”
Rose’s heart softened and she shook the sexual frustration from her mind. Jack was her friend. Of course he would worry over her and now, he was part of the only real family she had. She couldn’t treat him like he was a burden. Bearing that in mind, Rose pasted a gentle smile on her face and turned toward Jack but, when the Doctor moved to slip out of the cot, her attention was diverted. Rose clung to him with a whimpered protest.
The Doctor squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to grab you another glass of water.”
She was reluctant to release him but relented and let him slide off the bed. He went to the tap and Jack approached her side with a wince, mouthing ‘sorry.’ Rose rolled her eyes and waved him off, settling back against the pillow alone.
“How are you feeling, Rosie?”
“I’m fine, a little tired and weak, a bit of a headache, but otherwise fine. What about you? You look exhausted,” she fretted, reaching out to grab his hand.
Jack gave it a gentle squeeze and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah I’m beat. I just stopped in to check on you before I went to bed. It’s good to see you’re awake.”
The Doctor returned and placed her glass of water on the table before resuming his seat on the stool at her bedside. Rose frowned and he avoided her probing gaze. When it became clear that he wouldn’t acknowledge her, she turned back to Jack, willing her eyes to stop burning.
She cleared her throat. “Where are Martha, Tish? Their parents?”
“They’ve settled into a couple rooms here,” Jack replied his now concerned gaze flitting between the Time Lord and his companion. “They’re safe and sound. Nothing to worry about.”
“Okay.”
Silence reigned for several awkward moments before Jack clapped his hands. “Well, like I said, I’m gonna hit the hay. You two just go back to whatever you were doing. Pretend I was never here.” He stepped forward and kissed Rose on the forehead. “Love you, kiddo.”
She smiled. “Love you.”
“See ya Doc,” he barked as he sauntered out of the room.
The Doctor waved and an oppressive quiet settled through the room. The space that only moments ago felt warm and safe now turned cold and clinical. Rose twisted her fingers into knots and struggled to keep her mind clear. She didn’t want to project how empty she suddenly felt or the fact that her lips still tingled from the ghost of his touch. When she was certain that she had her emotions under control, Rose looked up to find the Doctor’s intent gaze.
“What now?” she asked in a small voice.
He sighed and ran a single hand over his face. “Well, you could probably use several more hours of sleep and I need to get started on some…oh, let’s call it research.”
“Oh.” Rose wanted to curse him for being so goddamned self-contained. “Research?”
“Yeah, I’ll just need to take a few blood samples and run some tests.”
She stiffened and narrowed her eyes on him. “You mean experiments. You want to experiment on me. You’re trying to find out what I am now.”
“No, Rose. Of course not, you’re not a lab rat but…” He rubbed at his brow. “This isn’t normal. You shouldn’t be able to do the things you did today.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that Doctor,” she snipped. “I know that I’m not ‘normal’. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”
“It doesn’t disappoint me, Rose. It worries me,” he explained and stood, beginning to pace at the foot of her bed. “The Bad Wolf, it-“
“I’m the Bad Wolf. We’re one and the same.”
“I know! That’s the problem. You have the power of the Vortex coursing through your head. What if you can’t control it one day and in burns your mind right out of your skull?!”
“Doctor, I understand that it’s scary but-“
“No, Rose you don’t understand…this power in you it’s wrong! This is wrong! You’re not supposed to be like this!”
His words found sharp purchase in Rose’s heart. She was wrong? It pricked at her insecurities. For twelve years, she felt unable to relate to her fellow humans in Pete’s World. She felt separate, alien, and the last thing Rose expected was to hear those same fears flung back at her from the man she most loved.
Rose glared at the Doctor. “Wrong?! You know some might say it’s wrong for a person to change their entire face and body, but you do it. You regenerate.”
“That’s different. I’m not human, I’m a Time Lord.”
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, Doctor, I’m not exactly human these days either!” Rose shouted, throwing the blankets off. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, ripping out the IV and other sensors. Blood pored from the puncture wound and the monitor began screaming warnings that drove like an ice pick into her temple. Rose covered the IV stick, pressing to staunch the flow of red liquid down her arm.
The Doctor stopped her progress by rushing to Rose’s side and placing his hands on either side of her hips, trapping her on the bed. “That’s exactly what I mean, Rose. Please, if you would just let me run a few tests.”
Rose had some background with being tested on. She ran her own team at Torchwood for two years when Pete decided to retire as Director. Naturally, she took the job…not because of nepotism (despite some senior officer opinions). Rose had worked her butt off and she had a forward-facing vision for the flawed organization. She had known its failings from the inside and had productive ideas that would make them more efficient. She had deserved the Director position but four years into it, malcontents began to whisper about her mysterious origins, her uncanny ability to never age.
When the rumbles of mutiny grew louder, the Board of Directors took it upon themselves to pull her sealed medical records, seemingly over her doctor’s dead body. Her lab work was only cause for further investigation. The powers that be decided Rose would better serve her country by providing a gateway for scientific progress, the key to defeating life’s greatest enemy…death. Who wouldn’t want to live forever, heal faster?
The irony had not been lost on Rose that the ability to evade death was ruining her life. She had been blacklisted, running for her very existence and, Daniel Rourke, acting Director and ringleader malcontent, had made it his personal mission to bring her in. In the end, Rose had decided to end things on her terms.
She gave herself up. Rourke took her from her family and everyone she loved. He spent months trying to torture the secrets of her youth from her lips before he had finally realized that she had nothing to offer him. That was when he turned her over to the doctors. For two years Rose had been poked, prodded, x-rayed, biopsied, and a variety of other tests that she didn’t want to think about. Needless to say, she was a little tetchy about being “tested” as the Doctor put it.
“No! I’m not one of your little experiments, Doctor! I’m a person!”
“Rose-“
“Is this what we are to you?” she continued, wincing against the monitor’s beeps that blared through her mind like a bullhorn. “Are we experiments? Are we tools? Toys? Accessories? Do you just pick us up and throw us away like an old hat, or scarf, or piece of produce?”
“No, of course not,” he replied, insulted, but Rose was beyond listening.
“And when we cease to be useful or entertaining you just leave us in Norway or Aberdeen or on a space station 200,000 years into our future and then it’s off to the next companion? I mean, do we mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you?
“Yes, of course you do.” He tried to cup her cheek but she jerked from his touch.
“No Doctor, I don’t want to hear it again. Not you, Rose. Never you,” she imitated his voice back at him. “Is that the same thing you said to Sarah Jane, or Jack? Have you said it to Martha yet?” The Doctor looked as if she’d just slapped him but Rose didn’t care. She knew her words were hurtful and rash and she would regret them but the memories of her torture were a fresh bleeding wound. She was exhausted, drained, and her head felt like it might explode at any moment. Rose struck out at him with her words like a cornered wounded animal. “How long did you wait after I was gone to pick up Martha? A day? A week? Did you mourn me at all or did you simply move on to the next young girl out there?”
“Enough!” he snapped. Cupping her chin in his hand, the Doctor forced her to meet his tormented gaze. “Mourn you?! Rose Tyler, I mourned you every second of every day you were gone! I was still mourning you when you found me on that ship and, if you hadn’t showed up then, I would have mourned you every day for the rest of my very long life!”
Rose stared at him, stunned speechless. She was being irrational; she knew that. Some part of her mind was whispering that sheer exhaustion and hormones were ruling her right now but an even bigger part was screaming that everything hurt too much, even his beautiful sentiments. For that’s all they could be…sentiments…right?
The Doctor tried to put his arms around her but Rose pushed him away. It was a frail gesture, considering her feeble strength, but he stepped back, allowing her space. Theta looked crushed but Rose needed some barriers; if he gathered her in his arms she might just fracture into a million shattered pieces.
“I can’t think about this, Doctor. I’m done talking. I am so tired. I just want to go to my room, have a bath and go to bed.” She hopped from the cot, but Rose’s legs refused to support her and she crashed to the floor in a heap.
“Rose!” The Doctor rushed to her side, trying to gather her in his arms.
She wasn’t having any of it and batted his hands away. “I can do it myself. I’m fine,” she snapped, pulling herself to her feet once more.
She took about two steps before she collapsed again. Only this time, it was into the Doctor’s waiting arms. He cradled her against his cool chest where Rose could feel the strong steadying rhythm of his dual heartbeats. It calmed her, though not by much, and she still put up a feeble fight.
“Rose Marion Tyler,” he chastised. “Do you always have to be so damned stubborn?”
“Just put me down, Doctor. Please, put me down,” she begged, pushing against his chest with weak arms.
“Why? So you can fall flat on your face again? Listen to me Rose...” The Doctor held her still, determined for her to listen. “I’m not letting you go.”
Rose couldn’t hold them back anymore; she burst into tears. There was such blazing sincerity in the Doctor’s eyes. Rose was compelled to believe him and now, all she could do was sob into his shirt. He was giving her the words she needed to hear and Rose thought that maybe…just maybe, they weren’t pretty sentiments. Rational thought broke through her exhausted haze. Why was she fighting him? Oh god, the things she said to him…had she hurt him? She thought back to the Doctor’s expression when she’d spat his words about ‘Never her’ back in his face. Oh god, she had.
She was crying in earnest, blubbering incoherent apologies through her sobs. The Doctor shushed her, whispering sweet comforts of forgiveness but Rose was beyond hearing. Exhaustion and pain dogged her, sapping any strength from her muscles. A dark haze settled over her thoughts, her mind fighting the fog of fatigue. After several minutes, unable to fight any longer, Rose succumbed, surrendering to the pull of sleep, safe in the Doctor’s arms.
#doctor who#the doctor#rose tyler#jack harkness#tenrose#tenxrose#i really do love them so#so many things i like in this chapter#rose needs a hug#the other side of the night#chp15
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Two separated ways - Chapter 12 - Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor x Paladin Danse Fallout 4 Fanfic
Im thinking in deleting the first two chapters and reupload them with a new title, after all I have a continuation for that story also, kinda the same love triangle where they have children in the middle but different plot. So this fic and url only will be How i meet your mother and the story of how Arya Maxson was conceived, the one already uploaded with that fic will have the note that is chapter 3, I think ill upload there the next porn chapters
If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic
Arthur called Danse for a meeting, a schedule meeting, to not being such an asshole of interrupting his dutys to talk about her, after all it wasn’t a pleasant theme of conversation for any of them for lately the same reasons.
Danse stood in front of the door, sighing, he had been walking around wanting time to pass and Arthur to give up and leave but no, apparently he was still there in his office and my god he really didn't want to talk he didn’t even liked him that much. And besides, he already knew that he was going to start this conversation again.
His failed love story, but now someonelse is experiencing it.
So he knocked, the sooner he end this chat the better.
-Welcome Paladin, I found some boxes of Junk food to share and I thought –said Arthur opening the door with his best smile.
-Go to the point Arthur, what now?
To not love her he was kinda salty about the Nora subject, and he hasn’t mentioned her yet. He missed the days were the two of them were good friends actually.
First he coughed a little to make him understand that he should go to into the damn office and not be rude. Danse sighed and went inside, taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk.
-I actually called you to apologize, asshole –now the paladin felt bad for whatever the reason was- you were right about a lot of things im just starting to see now
He sat on his side on the desk and throw the box of junk food to the paladins hands, who open it and place it in the middle of the table feeling bad about his hostile behavior
-I tried to warn you –said the paladin picking a potato crisp
-Im sorry, I thought you were exaggerating, I thank you very much for wanting to let me know
Silence, Danse eat another potato crisp.
-Its okay, she is someone you really want at your side –couldn’t blame him, Nora was a catch.
-You really try to love her over and over, try and try but then she…
-Does fucked up things, multiple times in a row –Danse hand hit a bit the desk in frustration, definitely not a planned reaction, came out of resentment-crushes all your efforts to not feel bad and disturbed every time like it was your fault that she is unbalanced
Arthur stay in silence for a moment before talking.
-I havent seen anything super bad yet but…I had some scary moments –Danse looked at him- lets keep it that way
-What are you guys up to? –ask Danse wanting to be clear and know where he was standing.
-We are pregnant right now, two weeks…-the way his nose swelled as he breathed and filled his lungs was almost comical, even his face had turned red, but he exhaled all that air to calm down and then pressed his forehead with his fingers.
-Let me guess –if he didn’t find a logical explanation he will have a heart attack- the council was pressuring you
-Of course but she also offer herself to me –said Arthur now picking potato crips to eat. Danse heard and sighted
-Truly the only reason we are not together its because im infertile
-You are? –wow he didn’t know that, not with his confirmation at least
-Remember when I passed out three years ago? I offered to enter a place with a lot of radiation in her place and sacrifice myself to activate some controls so we could get out of a chamber in which we were trapped, in the end Nora got me out of there I don't know how-he remember, it was a mess because she was screaming desperate for help when they arrived at the citadel gates that noon, the weeks she stay at his side while in treatment make him sad for her, he really rooted for Danse to get better so she wouldn’t fucking die of sadness if something happened to his friend-but I was there for about 3 weeks in treatment, obviously from then on I became sterile, I did tests not long after I was already recovered-Danse at 49 was doing fertility test to check if he could still knock up Nora and he was panicked about letting more time pass how funny- I don't know if I would have been sterile before because we had sex more times than my fingers can count and I never got her pregnant but the test is my formal confirmation of infertility, is in my medical record. Not long after I told her the news we stopped having sex together, I was very determined not to let her get her romantic hopes up so we weren't doing it but she at least stopped insisting on that aspect, she kept trying to get me to I fall in love with her many times but she no longer insisted on me in a sexual way, at first I thought she was afraid of catching some disease from radiation remnants or cancer in me but soon I realized that…
-She wanted something else –they have a long history together and he was in the middle.
-Started talking more about Shaun and how beautiful her pregnancy was, that she was having the time of her life with her baby more and more often–Danse sighted looking at the ceiling- the only reason im not hooked with her its because I cant knock her up clearly, of course if I get her pregnant I would be responsible of our kid despite our feelings not being mutual.
-You would be happy that way? A kid with her despite you don’t want anything romantic?
-Well –Danse looked at him and pick more potato crips- are you?
-Answer the question paladin –said Arthur now feeling his tongue salty and dry, damn he was thirsty.
-I think I would be a great dad –of course he will be- both will work to be great parents and protect that kid that’s for sure, it would be fun. Besides I understand your point back then, she is prewar, a kid with her genes is a guantantee of excellent health
-But to be at her side?
-If there is something that definitely does not make a couple fall in love, it is a child in between, it could even separate us more, but you are right, it is an excuse for us to be together and make everything uncomfortable, so that she can insist more on me –he saw a weird look on Arthurs eyes-don’t get me wrong im 100% sure that she is going to be an affectionate mother despite everything
-I don’t know –Arthur sighted sliding his back into his chair- I don’t know her enough
-Then why do you agree?
-The council said that the quality of my sperm could decrease if I keep waiting, and she has…such charming…
-Indeed –now Danse sighted also sliding his back into his chair- she can be nice and loving like a wastelander never experienced in their whole lifes
-Exactly! –hu this conversation was helping in a lot of levels
-It catches –Danse admitted, biting on his lip- I never wanted to give up
-What do you mean?
-Everytime she snapped and do something horrible it was like a failure to me, it hurts me that she was never stable enough for me not to feel guilty about wanting to be next to someone who did those things, I never wanted to purposely think I don’t what to correspond this woman feelings, specially if she wanted me
-the probability of finding someone to love in the wastelands and that person being strong for that love to last is so low and yet…-again, he pick a potato crisp and ate.
-I made this choice and it hurts everyday to hold it –then he looked at Arthur- im glad to see im not alone
-Like I said I haven’t see yet anything so bad…
-Eventually you will –he assured
-She is still into you
-Despite asking me to go and clarify things because I ruined everything? –the elder nodded and pick more potato scrips- are you into her?
-Not if she isn’t even going to try but…its hard –Danse get what he means, she is what every strong man wants at his side
-I am not going to advise you to try to make her fall in love with you, she has been lost for me for 10 years even though I have rejected and pushed her away repeatedly –then he picked potato crisp while stretching his legs on the floor
-It’s a waste of time then –the paladin agree. Arthur wanted to grab more potato crips but the box was not empty, they really ate everything hu
-I hope you both find what you are looking for -that came from his heart, he said it without resentment at all.
-As you will not satisfy any of her desires
-Not that desires at least –they stay in silence when noticed that the box of potato crips were empty but something snap in Danse mind- where is she right now?
-Tenpenny Tower, you sure are aware –the paladin nodded. Very aware of her plans and ambitions. She always craved for more. Being the top rank of the brotherhood wasn’t enough, he dedicated more than half of his life to the brotherhood but she wanted more than that, so much more than what he aspired.
-You should go and see her –that call the elders attention, didn’t expect it.
-Why? –he blinked, he was still a bit in love with her but yet…
-Be careful because if you are not around then she will somehow want more.
After the paladin leave he made a realization, so he showered and get on a ventibird to Tenpenny Tower.
He was received on the heliport by Nora itself who was wearing a Pre-War casualwear and that annyoyed him, she should be in some kind of armor or protection at least the last time he was here people were not happy with her presence
-Elder what are you doing here? –she said picking his hand and running away from the fuss and sand the ventibird raised up to a place were they can’t feel much the washout. He left his escorts and guards behind in the ventibird too, he planned to be inside the tower all by himself? No protection? The people who bring him here will stay back and wait until he leaves? That didn’t sound right…
-I came to dinner…our usual dinner –when he said that she sighted, didn’t expect that.
-Oh –their hairstyles were a mess right now, she raised her hand to fix his a bit on the side- it’s a bit early yet but we can walk around…-was he really going to trust her to be his guard? Weird
-Sounds like a great idea –he said but she had an odd face while touching his hair- what’s wrong?
-You are dressed too elder again, lets change your clothes
-I kinda arrived in a brotherhood ventibird –he saw how she bite the insides of her cheek but smiled anyway. There was also tincans in the back waiting…
-Well I don’t need more people assuming that the elder its here, could be any other soldier –she smiled and place his hair behind his ear, the little she can do here-lets go upstairs, I have some mens clothing of your size for sure so you will go a little more unnoticed
It wasn’t the same place of one week ago that’s for sure, it was under construction. people breaking pieces of wall, passing pipes and installing things, following plans and instructions, work groups and people sitting around resting from what seemed to be long days of work...
-Were did you get the pipes? –ask Arthur amazed
-The forge, I made lead pipes a while ago for a job so I used the plans for this, since I don't want to break the walls we will go over them, it is not very aesthetic nor will it be liked by the neighbors but I prefer that to compromising the structure of the building by breaking walls only for maintenance, after all there is no urgent humidity that is flooding anything, only the walls are absorbing it but no more of that
That sounded important, for now they were working in the reception and frankly it was the most attractive place in the eyes of the neighbors and also the most important since it was the structure of the building facing upwards.
The two of them moved to Nora's apartment upstairs, it was much cleaner than the last time he was there, severely cleaner, the floor had a different color and was no longer textured, soft and sliding to walk, the walls were still in poor condition but not having spiders made it better. It gave a touch, in addition had changed some furniture and its layout, it looked much more spacious and orderly. The windows had been cleaned and were now transparent, not opaque, totally transparent, you could see the sunset in all its splendor, flooding the room with orange light...
-This works take some time –said Arthur looking around in the room.
-At least the reception has to be finished in a couple of weeks-suddenly and without expecting it at all she was pushed against a small table that was near her, Arthur had kicked her legs to the side quickly to make her lose balance and fall, it was to be expected with those high black heels she walked with, holding her wrists behind her back and her waist in front, preventing her from hitting her torso and belly from the front with the side of the table, he pushed his chest against her back and pressed her against the cold surface. With her legs bent, unable to stand up and unable to stabilize herself with her hands, she was only suspended against the table with his body, who had her head pressed inside her neck to whisper in her ear.
-I came to talk about something today Howard –she slurped saliva and even he could hear it, good- I didn’t like what you did the other day -his hand closed tighter on her wrists. Nora was thinking about how she could stabilize her body to get out of there in the meantime but she was in a horrible position-remember when we talk about surprising me? I thought we had an agreement
She breathed in, and that’s when she understood what he meant.
-Oh -this was a conversation about respect and power, just because she has established a position and place of power that day does not mean that she is above him and especially...he had warned her about that detail of his. She knew it, and she forgot it, her ego and customs on how to dominate dangerous situations make her forgot, and he was not going to let it happen just because she was now a boss with power, he also had strength and spirit, he was not going to give in so easily-Sorry –she mumble
-I let it pass that day because I was still shocked about our pregnancy news –he put emphasis in the our, pressing his arm against her belly- and did everything in my power to not react against you
-Im sorry –she whispers, her body was tense but she wanted to relax to show him that she wasn’t a menace and neither planned to attack him
-You made me upset –his torso pressed her and his arm more against the table- didn’t respect what we agree –its okay, she understand, he was a man of power, a man with power didn’t like to summit, and she had broken his trust in something he considers very personal
-I apologize -she whispered calmly, trying to get him to calm down too, not only because she didn't want him to hurt her or for the situation to escalate but because she didn't want to take away the authority and respect that he thought he deserved and wanted to have, it was okay, she could respect his wishes-I forgot
-Do you promise to remember? –she nodded and breath out-good, or the next time ill make you remember I wont be so gentle-he removed the arm on her belly out and wrap on her waist, her tiny waist, hand with full open fingers, she breathed in again and the way her torso lift and her waist was wedged between his fingers made him breath in-I don’t want to hurt any of you –the hand on her waist moved down slowly, walked around on the upper curve of her hips and ass loving how he can feel the curves of her body, sliding in the soft fabric of the blue dress until he felt something with the tip of his fingers at the height of her thighs, something hard and sharp, not soft skin-what is this?
Nora breath out-let me show you? –she said in a low tune, he separated from her back and stand in front of her, firmly, with his feet’s very attached to the ground.
Arthur was actually surprised that she didn't seem scared at all, maybe a little submissive, calm, like she had accepted the situation, but not scared or disturbed, a violent encounter of this type would normally leave someone disconcerted even by the unexpected but she didn't seem affected at all, did she expect something like that from him? She doesn't make sense, she wouldn't have allowed herself to be immobilized if that were the case, maybe she always thought that something like that could happen with him.
Nora lift the skirt of her dress and show some Sturdy combat armor leg pieces in her thighs. And he had to admit that the view looked hot but those heels really favor her long slim legs.
-I guess it doesn’t match with the black heels –he mumble and she smiled a bit
-I had to take apart the arms because the entire piece was very bulky, but it's better than nothing, you can't tell, right? –she said while opening the first button of her already long cleavage, moving down the fabric on the shoulder to show him the green piece of armor on her arm, his eyes moved to her open chest unconsciously tho
Despite the fact that he had pinned down the woman against the table he worried, wasn’t this place safe?
-I thought it was the belts of my own suit–the hard thing he felt against his neck and shoulder hitting- well im sure you don’t expect your everyday neighbor armored to the teeth, or capable of resisting a shooting
-youll be surprised, Gustavo sells guns –using armor as undies didn’t relaxed him at all, this wasn’t what he expected as a safe environment to rise a child
-Its it safe here? –is not like he wanted to act like nothing happened a few seconds ago that would be very inconsiderate from his part but now he was concerned
About her and her safety. His baby safety.
-Let me pick you some clothes and lets go to Café Beau Monde to chat, im sure Margaret can make us some coffee and pastry’s while preparing dinner.
He looked concern at her and ask- are your sure about this? –she nodded with a small red smile, had the eyes of someone who has a lot of confidence, security despite being tackled in a table by surprise–borrow me some armor too at least
-You came here for our usual dinner after all right? –well…kinda…she laughs at his not so comfortable face-don’t worry, the worst thing that can happen is that a piece of brick falls on your head and we already had those incidents in the citadel, I'm going to take care of you-he had to do this, try to be around the woman that was going to be the mother of his child no matter how scary she was sometimes.
He sighted and she started to look for clothes in a big wooden wardrobe
-My pants size is a…
-Large, I know –how can she? –I bought my husband underwear, men for some reason doesn’t buy underwear on their own, just wait until a woman fill their drawers with new again- he look inside the wardrobe too, picking the clothes she was separating to check on what it could fit him- in my defense about the other day I first wanted to approach you in the bathroom, alone, without assistance, low guard with your pants down but all of you boys control your sphincters very well and I didn't see you all in need to do it all day, I guess Paladin Gunny trains brotherhood boys well.
Arthur frowned when he heard that, effective, but disgusting. What the fuck.
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New York Nights (2) (Rosénali Superhero AU)
A/N: Here's chapter two! Friendly reminder this isn't beta's (we die like men lol) so pls be kind lolol
Originally uploaded sometime in January 2022 lol
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Chapter Two: Dinner
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Now at the dinner table, Rosé and Denali hadn't spoken a word to the other, simply shaking hands (with a forced smile from Denali). The two sat across from each other, avoiding eye contact in complete silence. "Oh no!" came Jackie's voice from the kitchen, "I must've forgotten an ingredient! I'll have to run to the store to get it..." Denali soon heard the click-clack of Jackie's heels on their floor as she grabbed her purse. She saw Jan follow shortly, "I'll come with you!" she said, lightly touching Jackie's arm. Jackie eagerly nodded, and the two turned to leave. "Have fun you two! Rosé, don't bite!" Jan called out, sending her sister a wink as the apartment door closed.
Rosé cleared her throat, "Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom." She pushed out of her chair to leave, at the same time Denali shot up from her seat, her chair falling, and pinned the pink woman against the wall. "I don't know what you think you're doing," Denali snarled, "but you and your sister leave Jackie out of this. I don't know how you found out my identity, but-"
"Jan doesn't have anything to do with this, and I didn't know you'd be the same woman trying to kill me yesterday."
"I wasn't trying to kill you!"
"Could've fooled me, Blondie." Rosé teased.
"You're one to talk! You shot giant blasts of energy at me! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME!" Denali shouted, pulling her dress up to expose her bandages.
"Woah there, slow your roll. This is only our first date, let's try and make it through dinner first."
Denali groaned and rubbed her temples, "God fucking damn it, of course, this would happen." she grumbled. "Listen, I'm not thrilled about this either..." Rosé examined her nails, "but now we know each other's identities. Obviously, I don't want to be outed, and neither do you." Denali paused for a moment, "And?" she questioned. "I'm suggesting we play nice for tonight- give Jan and Jackie a nice date, and then we'll never have to see each other again!" Denali considered her words for a moment.
"Fine. But if I see you out, I'm taking you down."
"If you can catch me!" Rosé sent her a wink as she brushed past Denali towards the bathroom.
Denali made a sound of frustration, trying to ignore the blush rising to her cheeks. It seemed Rosé knew just how to push her buttons- and she hated it. She balled her fists up and tried to push down the emotions she was feeling- she had to try and act normal, for Jackie's sake. Jackie had done so much for her, she seemed so interested in Jan- Denali couldn't mess that up, no matter how much she wanted to throw Rosé into the nearest ocean.
-
Jan and Jackie arrived back at the apartment ten minutes later, with some vegetables Denali swore she had seen in the pantry earlier today. By that time, Rosé had returned to the table. the two had been making small talk when the others returned. "Denali, could you come and help me with this real quick?" Jackie called from the kitchen. Denali rose from her seat as Jan slid into the seat next to Rosé, whispering into her ear.
"Could you cut those carrots up for me?" Jackie turned over her shoulder. Denali nodded, grabbed a knife from a nearby drawer, and began cutting. "Soooo," Jackie quietly chirped, "how's Rosé?" Denali froze for a second, before remembering the promise. "She's...she's cool." Denali managed to grit out, shifting all of her focus to slicing the carrots. She heard Jackie hum, "Did she tell you she's a singer? She performs at some of the downtown nightclubs!" Denali rolled her eyes, 'Of course,' she thought, 'why wouldn't she be a singer? An overconfident asshole, it fits the vibe.' "She didn't actually! That's so interesting!" She plastered a fake smile on.
She finished chopping the carrots, slid them over to Jackie, and cleaned the knife. "Thanks 'Nali!" Jackie smiled at her as she put her dish in the oven, "Dinner will be ready in about...45 minutes!" Jan bounced over to Jackie's side, took her arm, and whispered something in her ear. "That's a great idea!" Jackie flushed, "Jan suggests we should play some games!"
And so, that's how Denali ended up playing Uno with Rosé by her side, and Jan and Jackie sitting across from them, being sickeningly sweet. Denali had the fewest cards so far, but she also seemed to be the only one really trying to win. "Jan, it's your turn." Rosé softly nudged her sister on. Jan snapped her attention back towards the game, and a small 'oh!' came from her as she put down a +4. Denali raised her eyebrow as she glanced toward Rosé, who was looking at her. Denali quickly glanced away. "Hmm..." she murmured to herself, the pink-haired woman debating her next move. Denali glanced towards her again and noticed another +4 in her deck. She groaned a bit and glanced at her one card left.
"Damn...guess I have to draw!" She sighed, picking up four cards. Denali furrowed her brows and glanced at Rosé, confused. "I guess I win," Denali spoke to no one in particular, placing down her last card. She heard Jackie and Jan congratulating her, but her mind was swirling with other thoughts. Why would Rosé let her win? Did it mean something? Surely not! Right? Denali thought she would've been all about winning, Jan even warned her she was!
She glanced back towards Rosé, who shot a small smile her way. Denali, who was even more confused at this point, tried to shoot her one back- ignorant of the blush rising to her cheeks. Soon, the kitchen timer beeped alerting them of their dinner being done. Jackie jumped up and rushed towards the kitchen, pulling on her oven mitts and quickly taking the dish out of the oven.
While Jackie took care of putting the last touches on the food and getting it out, Denali collected everyone's drinks. Jackie had bought a fancy bottle of, go figure, Rosé for the night, and as Denali carefully collected the wine glasses from the top shelf with the help of the stool, she could feel a pair of eyes on her. She quickly retrieved four glasses, and as she took a step down she lost her balance. Her mind was in panic mode and seemed to go in slow motion as she fell. However, before she could hit the ground, she felt a pair of hands catch her, steadying her.
"Careful there doll," a voice whispered in her ear, "how am I gonna beat you in our rematch if you're hurt?"
Denali's cheeks flushed a bright red, turning her head slightly she was met with Rosé's smug smile. She quickly jolted out of the other girl's arms and turned to face her. "Thank you," she said as coldly and calmly as possible (she still stuttered), letting out a sigh. Rosé took two of the glasses out of the other girl's hands, "Nice ass, by the way." And with a wink, she turned and left for the table. Denali stood in the kitchen clutching onto the glasses, her face now a bright and vibrant shade of red.
She had to stand there for a minute calming herself down before she was able to make it back into the dining room. "Sorry about the wait," she apologized, setting down her two glasses in front of herself and Rosé. "It's alright, we didn't wait too long!" Jan chirped, handing the alcohol to the blonde. She poured the wine out for herself and Rosé before taking her seat next to Jackie. Everyone began eating, and the other three complimented Jackie endlessly on her cooking. Before long, the compliments towards Jackie changed into a conversation.
"So Denali, where do you work?" Jan asked her. "I work at the nearby ice rink part-time, I give people skating lessons," she explained, "but I'm actually in college for Women's Studies. It's my senior year." Jan nodded, "So we're probably around the same age! I'm in my senior year of Theatre!" Denali flashed her a smile, "That must be fun! What made you decide on Theatre?"
"It's simple actually! Our family is all singers, Rosé, Gonna, and I even have a band! So it kind of just felt natural, y'know? Rosie and Goona went to school for it as well, and it felt right for me to do it too!" Jan rambled, her energy made Denali feel hyper. "They're really good," Jackie chimed in, "you'll have to come with me sometime!" "Maybe I will!" Denali grinned at Jan, who reacted with a squeal- she didn't miss Rosé's small smile, either.
The table continued chattering and eating, Denali couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the people, but she started to feel warm inside. She seemed to be constantly smiling and had even begun to be less icy towards Rosé. By the time they finished dinner, it was 9 pm and Denali was definitely a little tipsy. "Oh, it's so late. You two should get home soon." Jackie worried, "Denali and I can take care of the dishes." Jan shook her head, "Nope! You made this delicious meal for us, I'm at least staying to help clean! Besides, I don't think Denali would be much help..." The others at the table laughed, Denali squinting at Jan in annoyance and sticking out her tongue.
"Okay, if you insist." Jackie laughed, picking up some of the plates. "Rosé, would you watch over Denali? I probably should have mentioned she's a bit of a lightweight!" Rosé smiled at the other woman, "Of course! C'mon, let's get you to the couch." Denali felt Rosé's hands urging her up, and she obliged. The older girl led her over to the couch, where she promptly flopped down. Rosé sat down next to her, watching the drunk girl with a smile on her face. Turning towards the other girl, Denali ran her hand through Rosé's hair, "Pink..." she muttered.
"Great observation, doll." Rosé chuckled. It didn't take much longer for Jackie and Jan to finish, and soon enough Jackie came into the living room. "I hope she isn't giving you too much trouble," Jackie looked at Denali's hand stroking the other girl's hair, "Denali is a very touchy drunk." she sighed. "It's no problem," Rosé laughed, taking the other's hand out of her hair, "thanks again for dinner, it was lovely!"
-
Jackie had helped Denali brush her teeth and get ready for bed and then had tucked her in (despite Denali's protests), singing her a lullaby to help her sleep. That was the last thing Denali remembered as she drifted off to sleep, and into a dream.
She was standing on the ledge of a building overlooking New York City at night, the night sky dark and brooding above her. She looked at herself, her blue costume adorned her body. Denali knew this dream, she's had it many times before. Often she dreamt of being a famous hero or taking down a horrific supervillain, sometimes she just dreamt of flying around the city. She liked these dreams, she liked them a lot. She felt free and confident in these dreams, she didn't have to worry about failure or embarrassment in these dreams. She gave a sigh of relief and took several steps back to take a running leap off the building.
She jumped, eager for her body to take flight- however, she began to fall. It took her by surprise, her mouth hung open in shock. Denali looked upward as the sky grew farther and farther away, and she began to panic. She began to cry, reaching her hand upwards toward the sky. She desperately tried to fly, even use her powers- but nothing came. She started to scream, as she plummeted towards the concrete.
-
Denali awoke and bolted up in her bed, she was heavily breathing and felt out of breath. Glancing at the clock, she could see it was 4:29 in the morning. She put her hand to her forehead and felt her hands shaking terribly. "Denali?" Jackie rushed into her room, her fluffy robe hastily wrapped around her, "Are you okay? What happened? I heard you scream?" She sat on the bed and put a hand on Denali's shoulder. She tried to speak, but nothing came out, only her heavy breathing. "Hey, it's alright. Take some deep breaths, okay?" Jackie calmed her, and Denali did as she advised.
"Jackie? Do...do you think I could lose my powers?" Denali managed to breathe out. "What? Of course not, why would you think that?" Jackie rubbed Denali's back as the girl began to cry. She explained her dream to Jackie, "I...I felt so powerless," she sobbed, "it was awful, Jackie." Jackie pulled her into a hug and ran her hands through Denali's hair, "I'm so sorry Denali...that must have been terrifying. But, that'll never happen."
"How can I be sure? I don't even know how I got my powers, Jackie, it might disappear as suddenly as it appeared."
Denali continued to sob as Jackie comforted her friend, "I'm going to fetch you some water, okay?" Denali nodded, "I'll be right back." Jackie wiped a tear from Denali's face and gave her a small smile. Soon, she returned with a glass of water and made Denali drink. "I'm sorry for waking you up," she sniffled, "it's just a stupid dream."
"Hey, it's not stupid, hell- your dream sounds terrifying. But that's normal. It's just a bad nightmare, nothing more to it. You're an amazing hero, by far my favorite, and you kick ass!" Jackie cupped the other girl's face, "You're totally biased." Denali smiled. "So what if I am? It's true!" Denali laughed at Jackie, shoving her lightly. "So, are you feeling any better?" Denali nodded, "Yeah, I am, thank you, Jackie." Jackie smiled at her warmly, "Of course, now back to bed you go."
Denali was able to fall back asleep rather quickly and peacefully, with no more dreams that night. Jackie stayed in her room a little longer, watching her friend to make sure nothing else happened to her. When Jackie was satisfied that she was safely and soundly asleep, she rose up and brushed her robe down. "Good night, Denali," she smiled and gently bent down to kiss her forehead tonight.
#Rosénali#rosenali#denali foxx#rpdr#rpdr fanfiction#jankie#jackie cox#jan sport#new york nights#rpdr s13#rpdr s12
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katsuki angst drabble. no comfort cause i like crying.
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you loved katsuki. really you did. he infuriated you at times but he always made up for it with his weird yet sweet gestures and actions. there was a time when you hated him but the moments you had with him were able to melt your icy heart and his cold and rude demeanor.
but it was different this time.
katsuki’s gestures and swoon worthy moments wouln’t be able to get him out of this hole. it was too late. the icy heart he had spent so long trying to melt was once again tossed into the tundra for far too long. and you didn’t know if could ever have it back.
“god!” katsuki screamed. “why can’t you see that i love you, you shitty woman!” his hands were making sparks and he clenched them close when he saw your eyes glaring holes into them. and then to him.
you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “don’t fucking scream at me right now, bakugo.” your voice was eerily calm, but there was a sense of wavering in them. you had also never called him by anything but his give name, and he realized just then how serious and angry you were. “i can’t see that i love you,” you clenched your jaw. “because you never show it anymore. because you never do your sweet gestures that made me fall for you in the first place. because i never see you anymore! because you’re… you’re not here.”
his heart broke at your vulnerability. at how your own voice cracked at your last sentence.
“you’re never here anymore, bakugo. never come home anymore.” you sniffled, wiping at your nose and sitting down on the couch. “a-and,” you stuttered. “i know you’re stressed and trying to become number one and save everyone, but what am i supposed to do while i wait? im 24, suki. i should be off living my best college post-grad life. starting a new chapter with you. not the memory of you.”
katsuki couldn’t handle your emotions anymore. he couldn’t handle the pain of hearing what you went through while he was trying to get an extra workout or another hour of waiting. of what he put you through for the sake of his goals. “y/n… i-im sorry,” he struggled to get out. “i’ll do better i swear. i’ll be the best fucking boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”
you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “you sure about that? cause i remember a very similar promise being made two months ago.”
he clenched his jaw. you were right. you had brought this up with him three times before this argument, but you ended up relenting much easier because he said he’d do better. and you believed in him. you believed in the both of you. and for the week after he did. he made you breakfast in bed before he went to work, came home on time for dinner, talked to you.”until he went back to his heartbreaking routine again. he couldn’t even make up an excuse. it wasn’t in his nature. he had failed you. he didnt like failing.
“just let me have one more chance…”
you closed your eyes again, because after three chances and three arguments, he finally realized the consequences of his mistakes. and that like you, his wavering voice showed the hesitancy in the relationship. that he too was giving up. and it hurt. you knew that no matter what, you’d leave. but still, it hurt knowing that he wasn’t going to fight anymore.
“you’ve had three.” and then you slammed the door on your way out.
***************
bakugo never went after you. he thought it was the decent thing to do. to atleast let you move on. and for him to be able to focus on becoming number one hero too.
sometimes he regrets it. he thinks and looks back on what was and what could’ve been. on the times you spent together as neighbors, how you supported him when he was first starting out as a hero, and when he needed reassurance after the guilt from all might’s retirement. he thinks on how your future might’ve been if he had given a little more to the relationship. on the family you two would create. on all the future dinner dates he missed because he gave too little and took too much.
this was one of those regretful times.
you had uploaded a mirror picture of you and hawks on your bed with a breakfast tray. you were pressed against hawks with a wide smile on your face. his left wing pulled you closer to him and he had a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. hawks looked utterly in love. bakugo could tell just from his expression. he had the same one on after all.
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omg what? longest thing i’ve ever written with just my phone keyboard. my thumbs kinda hurt now lmao. anyways repost and tell me what else i should write y’all.
#bakugou katsuki#katsuki x you#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki angst#bnha angst#mha x y/n#mha bakugou#mha angst#anime angst#fanfic#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic recs#fanfiction angst#fanfic angst#drabble#katsuki drabble#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo fic#katsuki bakugo angst#scenarios
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Looking for a Place to Happen 2
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff
💀💀💀
You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.
After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.
After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.
You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.
You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.
You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.
You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.
"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."
"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.
"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."
"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."
"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.
"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.
"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"
"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."
"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.
💀
When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.
'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.
'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.
'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'
'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.
The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.
You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.
💀
You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.
You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.
‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.
Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.
You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.
You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.
You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.
Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”
You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.
Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.
💀
Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.
You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.
Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”
“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.
“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”
“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.
“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.
“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”
“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”
“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”
“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”
“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.
“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”
“I don’t think anyone--”
“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”
You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”
“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”
💀
You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.
“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”
Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.
You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.
“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.
“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.
“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.
You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.
“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”
You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.
“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”
You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.
“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.
“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”
“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.
“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”
“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.
“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”
“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”
“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.
“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”
“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.
“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”
Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.
“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.
“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”
“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”
#sam wilson#dark sam wilson#dark!sam wilson#sam wilson x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#sequel#looking for a place to happen#au#biker au#biker!au#birch#biker boys of birch#MCU#marvel#thor#loki#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#captain america#tfatws#avengers
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normal kind of love — jjk (1)
pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: explicit
word count: 2.5k
warnings: a lot of cussing and some teasing if you squint, but other than that none really (the warnings will come next chapter lmao)
you’re one half of hollywood’s on-screen it couple. the greatest chemistry known on-screen with the one and only, jeon jungkook, the bane of your existence.
a/n: this was supposed to be a longer chapter but i decided to split it in half to tease potential readers mwahaha btw this chapter is very very unedited, though i did postpone the upload because i had to remove some parts because i just thought the story didn’t need those bits anymore lol but the rest of this story i haven’t even read through yet, i just wrote and wrote and wrote so please excuse any errors (my tenses might also not be consistent but i’ll edit this soon)
taglist: @min-nicoleee @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @kokoandkookie @somelazysundays
There was no way.
There was no way in hell they were pairing you up with him. Again.
You were confirmed to be cast as the female lead in the movie before any other characters were casted. They should have chosen a different male lead for this romance film. Heck, even Kim Taehyung, a friend of yours, received an offer for the role and you were certain he planned to take it. Unfortunately for you, even if Taehyung wanted the role, he couldn’t accept it because of scheduling conflict with another film he’s already working on.
Jeon Jungkook, an actor you starred alongside in “Dangerous Illusion”, was just confirmed as the male lead of your upcoming movie “Chosen for Pleasure”. The same man who seemed to make it his life goal to ruin you. After Jungkook was confirmed to play the male lead in your upcoming movie, fans on Twitter have been blowing up about it and made you two a trending topic worldwide. Elated fans mentioned you in their tweets expressing how happy they were to see you two again together. You wish you could say you felt the same.
The previous movie you worked on was a thriller/mystery. You played the part of Jungkook's wife in the film. The film was a blockbuster hit, as a result of the well-thought storyline, yet additionally because of its leads. Fans adored the chemistry between you and Jungkook, regardless of not having a lot of romantic scenes in the film. There were a lot of fans who wanted to see you two on-screen once more, this time, in a romance focused film. Looks like their wishes were coming true.
To add insult to injury, your impending film was going to be an adult romance. It required some steamy scenes that normally didn't trouble you because you were a true professional, yet absolutely irritates you now since you need to do them with Jeon Jungkook.
The script reading was to be done today and your eyes opened an hour later than the time you set for your alarm because of the fucking snooze button. Seriously, why were snooze buttons even invented? They just allowed people to sleep through their alarms continuously.
Hand reaching for the phone on your nightstand, you knocked over a booklet that was over it. It was the script you spent hours reading to grab a sense of the character you were going to portray. Obviously, you already knew the basics about the part you were going to play, but knowing the entire story helped in portraying your character.
Your eyes squinted at the bright light of your phone that had the numbers 8:33 glaring at you, unlocking it to see a couple of texts and missed calls from your manager.
‘Are you awake yet?’
‘Please don’t tell me you forgot about the script reading today’
‘Ok I know you’re still asleep but just make sure you get ready on time, being late won’t do you and your image any favors’
‘I’ll pick you up at 9’
You rolled your eyes at his messages. You loved Hoseok and he was the best manager you could have been given from your agency, but he nagged too much. He was also your friend and his endless nags made you want to rip your eyeballs out sometimes because even when you’re supposed to unwind with him, he never forgets to remind you of your job.
‘I’m the fucking lead, Hobi, they’ll wait for me’
You slapped your phone back onto the nightstand and started going about with your morning routine. You didn’t have a lot of time, and even though you knew they would definitely wait for you, you hated being that bitch who made people wait so you took a quick shower and slapped on some sunscreen, powder, and finishing off with your go-to lipstick. You didn’t bother with makeup and dressing up. This was just going to be a script reading and sure, there were going to be photos taken but the thousands of dollars you’ve spent on facials and treatments already made sure your face was at least flawless despite the lack of effort.
Bringing only your phone, wallet and script, you exited your building and as usual, a shiny black van already awaited outside. Hoseok was leaning on it, scrolling through his phone when he sensed your presence and looked up.
“Oh, thank god you’re on time.” He exhaled in relief, pocketing his phone.
“I value sleep but you’re well aware I also value my career.”
Hoseok grinned. “Now there’s the y/n I know.” He then slid the van door open and you entered without another word.
The drive was pretty much uneventful, with you scrolling through your social media, seeing what fans have been tweeting about recently and with Hoseok humming along to the random pop music playing.
You longed for a distraction, something much more interesting than working your thumb throughout the drive because of the chasm that you were about to jump into when you arrived on set. You weren’t stupid enough to forget about the man who got the role of your romantic interest in the film. But you were wise enough to not let it haunt you for the past weeks. Now though, you can’t really avoid it anymore since you were supposed to be seeing him in person again after almost 2 years. You didn’t exactly leave on the best terms with Jungkook but who knows, maybe you’ll be able to act civil around each other.
At least you were sure you were going to act civil around him, already decided on taking the higher path. You’re not so sure about him, but fingers crossed he’ll at least be an adult about the situation and pretend he can stand being in the same room as you.
Soon enough, you were entering the room the script reading was to be held in. Bowing and greeting the actors and staff seated around the table as you passed by to get to the last vacant seat. You caught Jungkook’s eyes following your movements as you sat down. Luckily, he was seated across from you and it was easier to ignore his presence with the staff members greeting and coddling you.
As always, script reading began with actors introducing themselves and the role they’re going to play. As the female lead, you started off.
“Hello everyone. I’m y/n y/l/n and I’m going to take on the role of Yuri.” Hands clapped around you as you sat back down.
“Hello, I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’ll be playing Ryan.”
You didn’t bother clapping unlike the rest and avoided the eyes of the voice’s origin.
The script reading continued without a hitch– for the most part. The other cast members were very friendly, and laughter was exchanged during the read. The same couldn’t be said for you and Jungkook though.
When lines between your characters were exchanged, there was a weird tension in the room. It felt like everyone else were holding their breaths and waiting for either of you two explode and announce that you can’t do this film anymore. As dramatic as that would be, none of that happened. Instead, cheesy romantic lines sounded flat and bored from both you and Jungkook. The director made a tsk-ing sound whenever that happened.
“It’s always been you.” You read. The script said that Yuri and Ryan stared in adoration towards each other before Ryan uttered his next words.
“Marry me?” Jungkook asked.
You nodded your head as a wrap for the script reading. According to the script, there was supposed to be a kissing scene at the end, so you make ridiculous smooching noises. The cast burst into giggles before the director stood from his seat.
“…and that’s a wrap!” He clasped his hands together. “Hopefully when we start shooting things only look up from there.” He flitted his eyes between you and Jungkook.
Honestly, you wish that too but from yours and Jungkook’s history, you don’t really think that’s possible.
You were both professionals though and you’re sure you could at least count on him to make the on-screen romance feel real.
“I’m sorry.” Hoseok said with pity in his eyes.
“Wha- but… why?” You asked, confused with what was happening.
Your part in the new film ‘The Notebook: Remake’ has apparently been withdrawn. As one of the rising stars in Hollywood, this was a really great opportunity for you. It’s one of the most anticipated films and accepting the offer of being the female lead in the movie was a no-brainer. Anyone who refuses that role is just stupid.
But now they were apparently taking it back.
Hoseok sighed. “There were too many scandals surrounding you recently. It doesn’t matter if they’re true or not, but you’ve been seen in hotels that Jeon Jungkook has been in too, and in everyone’s eyes you’re now secretly seeing him.”
“But we’ve never even been seen together in any of those photos. Don’t people know the word fucking coincidence?” Your brows furrowed, fists clenching at your sides. “And what does this have to do with my role in the film?”
“It seems they wanted someone with a ‘cleaner image’ and someone who’ll get the film to be a hit. Apparently, the romance won't be convincing if the female lead is dating someone in real life.”
You stared at Hoseok. He stared back waiting for a lash out, an angry outburst, anything really, but you remained silent, eyes unmoving. Soon enough, the dam doors burst open and the tears suddenly came streaming down your face. Hoseok exhaled and wrapped his arms around you.
“Hobi what did I do so wrong to deserve this?” you sobbed into his chest.
“Shh, it’s not your fault they’re all dumbasses. But you know the industry, y/n. We’ll find better films for you, okay?”
“Why is Jeon Jungkook such a thorn on my side? Why is he always ruining everything for me?”
“We can’t blame him, honey. He’s probably a victim in this too because of those damn rumor outlets.” Hoseok rubbed his hands along your back.
“But I’m getting the short end of the stick! The rumor is probably just feeding his bad boy persona!”
“Life’s unfair, y/n. Surely by now you’re aware of that. Just remember, karma’s going to bite them in the ass someday, okay? For now, do you want to call it a day and go home? I’ll drive you back and I’ll just report to the agency that you’re not feeling well.”
You nod your head, too listless to bother answering with words because there was only one thing on your mind right now.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good looks. He just ruined the best opportunity for you. You were going to get him back for this. Like Hoseok said, karma’s going to bite him in the ass someday. And that karma was going to be you.
You were supposed to be looking forward to filming one of your dream movies with your dream director. But all you felt was dread when you arrived on set. You promised yourself that you’d stay unaffected to Jeon Jungkook, but you couldn’t help the distaste for him to be left on your face while filming.
The scene you were shooting was when your characters first met and the first takes were a total disaster. You and Jungkook barely spared each other a glance, even when your character was supposed to be enticed by him, breaking down Yuri’s cold exterior. A break was called after the 6th take because the director was so frustrated that he looked like he was about to call the casting director and replace his two leads.
You sighed, not knowing what to do with yourself after the announcement of a break. Your feet led you to your dressing room, ready to pass out on the couch but before you could, someone barged in. Your head turned towards the door, expecting it to be your manager or the director or anyone really, just not the person who currently stood at the doorway.
“Can we talk?” Jungkook asked. Your eyes were suddenly drawn to his biceps which bulged from his shirt as he crossed his arms. The damn arms looked delicious. Too bad they belonged to someone you would never ever be attracted to.
“Sure.” You shrugged your shoulders. You were sure he came here to talk to you about filming and how to work out your indifferences and shit like that and honestly, you were so tired of hating him you’re ready to just go along with whatever. Hating someone actually takes a lot of effort, you realize.
Jungkook stepped towards you until he’s close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to look at his eyes. His eyes locked on yours for a moment before his arms uncrossed and one of his hands landed on the wall behind you. He successfully caged you in with no way out. His lips part and your eyes are drawn to the movement, feeling his exhales on your nose. You swallowed nervously.
Good lord his breath smelled so good.
“Babe, I’m sure you’re just as thrilled as I am to be working with you again as you are with me, but let’s not mess this up okay? Let’s get this over with perfectly and quickly so we don’t have to deal with each other again after. Deal?” His eyebrows raised in question and you nodded dumbly, unable to form a coherent sentence with how close he was to you.
You felt a sudden rush of heat down there and was mentally cursing the man in front of you for how much he was affecting you. He tilted his head to the side and leaned in closer to your face as if he was about to kiss you then he suddenly stopped, his mouth forming a smirk, taunting you.
That smirk was all it took for you to snap back to reality. No, you were not going to let him take the upper hand here. A burst of confidence surged through you as you leaned closer to him too and allowed your lips to brush lightly against his cheek.
“Deal.”
You pulled away, satisfied with how his lips drooped apparently not expecting that. You looked down and there it was, the tenting of his pants that brought a coy smile to your lips. Ha, take that.
You glanced back up at him, your fingers trailing over his thighs. “Aw, didn’t realize you saw me that way Jeon.” You abruptly pulled away and walked out of the room without another word, leaving him hard and defeated.
This is the beginning of his karma, you thought as you grinned to yourself.
#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#actor!jk#bts scenario#bts imagine#jungkook au#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#jjk x reader#jungkook x you#taehyung#jimin#namjoon#hoseok#yoongi#seokjin#jungkook
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