#they made me wait a full hour before taking my blood pressure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lewmagoo · 2 months ago

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we own the sky | rhett abbott

part two: under pressure

read part one here

series info: read the synopsis here. find the series masterlist here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.

description: in which you decide to face your fears

warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, mentions of character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, panic attack, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

word count: 11,838

notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!

You curled up beneath the covers that night, eager to get some much-needed rest after a day spent cleaning and socializing. Your body was so weary, and as you snuggled into the softness of Rhett’s bed, your eyes grew heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow, and you drifted off into dreamland.

But a few hours later, you woke to the sound of your name being sharply whispered into the gray morning light. It took a moment for you to draw yourself to consciousness, climbing your way out of layers of dreams, before your eyes flew open and you found yourself staring into Rhett’s face.

“Hey, sorry t’ wake ya so early, but there’s storm activity over by Sapulpa. Wanna come with us?” He asked, voice low.

You squinted, glancing over at the small digital clock on the nightstand. It was barely five in the morning. It had only been a few hours since you’d pledged to go on a chase with Rhett. You had certainly not been prepared for it to be this soon.

“Fuck it,” you grumbled, tossing the covers off. “I’ll come.”

“You don’t have to if—”

“I’m comin’,” came your sharp reply. You hurried to your suitcase, where you dug out some clothes to change into.

“Alright, I’ll be in the truck.” He kept his voice at a whisper, but there was an excitement in his tone, electricity in the air.

When he left the room, you let out a breath, a shudder running through your body. The beginnings of adrenaline had begun to course through you, and your heart rate picked up as you realized what was happening. This was it. You’d made a bet and now you had to follow through with it.

So, running off of four hours of sleep, with a body that ached from exhaustion, you got dressed, shoved your feet into your shoes, grabbed your phone, and quietly scurried out into the hall and down the steps.

You were surprised to see Cecilia in the kitchen doorway, waiting for you. “Take this,” she said, placing a paper bag full of breakfast goods such as granola bars and homemade muffins in your hands. Then she patted your hand. “And be careful, you hear me? Both of you.”

“We will be,” you assured her.

She didn’t seem at all surprised that you were going. Either Rhett had already told her, or she’d simply assumed you would end up going at some point.

After you bid her goodbye, you burst through the front door and onto the porch, shoes scraping against wood as you bounded down the steps. You jogged to the truck, and in the distance, you could see an F150 and an RV coming down the road.

The team was coming together. It was time to chase down some twisters.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your hands trembling, you climbed into the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck, shoving the bag of food down onto the floorboards. Rhett was already in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio dial, trying to find a weather broadcast.

“Y’ready for this?” He asked you.

A shuddering breath escaped your lungs. “As I’ll ever be.” A lie. You were nowhere near ready for this. But you’d already made a promise, so you had to stick it out.

“Hey,” Rhett continued, bumping your arm gentle with his own. “If you need to stop at any point, just let me know, alright?”

You mustered a smile. “I will,” you promised. You folded your hands in your lap so they’d stop shaking.

Moments later, after the team pulled in, you glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Zara jump out of the Ford, headed for you and Rhett. With her thick curls piled into a bun atop her head, a pair of smart denim shorts and a tucked in button-down with the sleeves rolled up, she looked ready to get down to business.

When she saw you, her face broke into a grin. “You’re coming!” She exclaimed, speaking through the truck window Rhett had just opened.

“Yeah! Had to carry out my end of the bargain,” you told her, trying to sound humorous, but you were certain that your trepidation overshadowed any attempt at being funny.

She held up an iPad. “Here, I’ll let you monitor the radar, if you’re comfortable with that?”

You looked at weather radar screens for a living. You were more than capable of monitoring the storm path, but you still felt your chest tighten with uncertainty. Even so, you reached out and took the device from her. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Great! All of us communicate through walkies, so if you have any questions, just radio me.”

“I will. Thanks,” you replied with a nod. And then, “Oh! Here, have some breakfast for the road.” You reached into the bag from Cecilia and pulled out some muffins and breakfast bars, thrusting them into her hands. “Give some to Finn and Danny too!”

“Thank you! See ya on the road!” Then she was off, jogging back to the truck.

You settled back against the seat, breathing out a sigh. Beside you, Rhett leaned closer. “Hey,” he hummed, “you’re gon’ be just fine.”

You tried your best to believe him.

As he pulled onto the main road, headed toward Sapulpa, you unlocked the iPad, familiarizing yourself with its layout before you located the radar app. With trembling fingers, you put the location into the search bar and waited for it to pull the correct screen up.

Seconds later, there it was. A large, red colored cloud moving over the map, indicating severe weather activity. Sapulpa wasn’t too far away. A fifteen-minute drive and you’d be there.

As Rhett drove, accelerating ten miles over the speed limit, you found yourself secretly hoping that you would not encounter a twister on this run. Maybe it would only be a storm. But you knew this area. You were more than familiar with the weather patterns here.

You looked up at the sky, noticing the angry gray clouds in the distance, roiling with thunder and lightning, full of raindrops, just waiting to unleash their fury upon the earth below.

It felt as if you were driving straight into the belly of the beast, and essentially, you were.

Forcing your eyes back down to the screen in your lap, you studied the radar, taking notice of the severe weather banner that had just popped up across the screen. In your pocket, your phone buzzed, and you didn’t have to look at it to know that a tornado warning had been issued for the area.

Oh, god.

“Y’ still with me?” Rhett’s voice pulled your attention to him.

“Yeah, I…I’m fine,” you lied right through your teeth. You glanced out the back window of the truck, and eyed the trailer full of nitrogen tanks, metal rattling loudly.

It was up to you and Rhett to get these tanks into position. You had to face the danger head-on, get ahead of the potential twister, and make the drop, all while trying to avoid being blown off course by the wind.

This was a suicide mission.

But you refused to back out, swallowing your terror and keeping a close eye on the radar. You were getting closer to the brewing storm. Although it was early morning and the sun had just begun to rise, it was eerily dark, clouds casting a shadow over the rolling plains.

As your gaze flickered to the fields that framed the stretch of highway, you watched the grass ripple in the wind. Without thinking, you moved to open the window, and a blast of humid air hit you in the face.

A flash of lightning tore through the sky, and seconds later, a deafening clap of thunder made you jump.

Beside you, Rhett eyed you briefly, unbeknownst to you. He was watching your body language, looking for any signs of distress. Just a few days ago, you’d sworn to him you couldn’t stomach the thought of chasing again. And now here you were, sitting beside him.

He questioned if you were ready for this. But you seemed fine, so he left it alone.

“How’s the radar lookin’?” He asked you.

You tore your gaze away from the sky, quickly pressing the button to shut the window before you looked at the screen. “It’s moving fast. Rain will probably hit soon.”

Before you even finished your sentence, the first few drops began pelting against the truck. Thunder rumbled. Your heart skipped a beat.

You could hear Zara speaking over the radio, but you were too busy focusing on the sky, searching for any sign of funnel activity. Your limbs buzzed with adrenaline. Your chest felt tight. Your breathing was rushed.

The rain gave way to hailstones, clattering against the truck, and the sky above took on a sickening green hue.

Sirens began to wail, a haunting sound that made you want to cover your ears. You hadn’t heard those sirens in so long. Hearing them now transported you back to the day you’d lost your dearest friends.

You could hear Rhett speaking your name, but he sounded so distant. You were too busy staring at the sky. And then the hail stopped, and aside from the sirens, the outside world was deafeningly quiet.

You thought your terror was going to swallow you whole.

“Talk to me!” Rhett finally exclaimed, grabbing your arm, pulling your attention to him. His eyes were wide, searching your face.

But before you could speak, a loud roar drowned out any possible conversation. You turned back to the window, and you saw it. A funnel protruding from the sky.

A twister had touched down.

Rhett stomped on the gas, headed east, trying to get ahead of the twister so the trailer could be put in place. You were frozen, staring up at the phenomenon, body cold with fright.

“I need you t’ stay with me, you hear?! You gotta keep an eye on it, I need to know where to drop the trailer!” He called out to you.

“O-okay!” You managed to shout back.

The truck moved faster and faster as Rhett fought to stay on track. You wanted to guide him. To communicate with him and tell him exactly what to do, where to go. But you couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. All you could see was that tornado, coming right at you. This was how your friends had died. Staring into the face of this vicious funnel.

Was this how you were going to die?

“Rhett.”

“Am I at a good distance?!”

Had he even heard you? “Stop.”

“Talk to me! Can I drop the trailer now?!”

“STOP!”

Rhett glanced at you and he saw the distress on your face. He knew what he had to do. “Shit,” he swore. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he made a split second decision and violently yanked the wheel to the left, veering off the road and into the cornfield on the other side.

He nearly lost control as the truck careened forward several miles, jostled against the uneven earth. You thrust your hands against the dashboard, fighting to hold yourself steady. The iPad in your lap went tumbling to the floor.

“Rhett! What’s going on?!” Jeslyn shouted over the radio.

He was too busy trying not to overturn the entire truck. When he slammed on the brakes, the force sent the entire trailer of nitrogen tanks on its side, snapping the hitch right off.

Your fight or flight response kicked in, and in a desperate attempt to escape the situation, you threw your door open, unable to spend another minute in the claustrophobic truck cab. Rhett yelled your name, but you didn’t hear him over the roar of the wind.

As soon as your feet hit the ground, you were running, eyes searching for a ditch or any sort of shelter. The wind whipped around you, its force pushing you along. You couldn’t see the twister over the high stalks of corn, but you didn’t need to see it to feel it.

Raw power, so overwhelming it took your breath away.

And then, all of a sudden, something solid collided with your back, and a pair of arms cinched around your waist. “Are you insane, girl?! Gon’ get yourself killed!” Rhett yelled over the storm.

You let out a shriek of surprise as he wrangled you to the ground, his body on top of yours, shielding you from the danger.

And then, all at once, everything went silent. You heard the sound of crying. It took you a moment to realize the sound was coming from you.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got ya,” Rhett’s voice was in your ear, breathless and gruff. He moved to sit on the ground, pulling you up with him, tugging your body against his chest. You buried your face against the side of his neck and sobbed.

He held you tight, listening to you cry. The residual breeze from the storm blew through his hair. He’d lost his hat when he jumped out of the truck and ran after you, he realized. But that didn’t matter now. The danger was gone, but you were falling apart.

He should have known this was a bad idea. But you’d insisted you could handle it. And now he was cradling you in his arms as your tears soaked into the collar of his shirt. He remembered so vividly holding you this way when Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia had been killed. He was hit with a deeply rooted pain, blossoming through his chest as he relived the memory.

It still hurt just as badly as the day it happened. And here he thought he’d buried that grief long ago. It had been there all along, just waiting to rear its ugly head.

“It’s gon’ be okay,” he whispered against the top of your head. “I’m right here, you’re safe, nothin’ is gonna hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

You lifted your head to wail out, “I-I ruined it! I should have ne– never come!”

“No, darlin’. Y’ didn’t ruin anythin’,” he tried to reason.

“A-all of Zara’s hard work! It’s messed up because of me!” You were spiraling, filled with regret. This had been such a colossal mistake.

At that moment, voices could be heard in the distance. Rhett lifted his head, listening. He could hear his name and yours being called. Thank god the rest of the team was alright.

“Found ‘em!” It was Danny’s voice, full of panic as he burst through the wall of cornstalks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, are you guys alright?!” He slid to a halt, lowering to his knees beside you both.

Behind him, Finn, Zara, and Jeslyn all appeared, looking just as disheveled and frightened.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” Zara exclaimed. She eyed your trembling form, crying into Rhett’s shoulder, and her face softened.

Rhett caught her gaze. The two shared unspoken communication. She knew what he was trying to convey with just his face. You hadn’t been ready for this.

You managed to bring yourself to look into Zara’s face, tears streaking down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come with you guys.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize,” she said, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “You’re safe, that’s what matters.”

You shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “No, I…I ruined everything, I’m so sorry.”

Finn and Danny stepped away to check on the equipment, while Zara and Jeslyn remained with you and Rhett.

“No, honey. You didn’t ruin everything. Trust me, those tanks are fine,” Jeslyn assured you. Her eyes were kind, and her voice was gentle.

Thunder boomed overhead again, and you jumped, pressing yourself even closer to Rhett. He held you just a little tighter. You were safe with him. He would make sure of that.

“Everything looks alright!” The sound of Finn’s voice carried over the field as he and Danny jogged back over. “The hitch snapped, but we can fix it. I figure Rhett can weld it back on since it’s his truck and all.”

“Yeah, it ain’t a big deal to fix,” Rhett replied.

“Tanks are okay too, they even stayed in the trailer, nothing fell out.” Finn looked at you, making sure to catch your eye. “No harm, no foul.”

“It was a quick twister anyway, not even that big. We probably wouldn’t have been able to get the tanks open fast enough as it was, so it really isn’t a big deal that we didn’t get ‘em into position. Don’t beat yourself up,” came Zara’s words.

Sniffling, you managed a nod. You were deeply grateful for everyone’s kindness and understanding. You still felt terrible, however. Part of you felt like a scared little child, and you hated it. You were angry at yourself for being unable to handle it.

“So what’s the plan now? We gotta get those tanks back to Rhett’s place, plus it’s gonna downpour any minute, so we should probably work fast,” you heard Danny say. “There could end up being another twister in the area if the storm keeps at it.”

As the girls and guys put together a plan, you tried to calm yourself down. Rhett hadn’t let you go yet, choosing to remain on the ground with you curled safely against him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Hey, look at me.”

You brought your eyes to his. The blue was so intense, it nearly took your breath away.

“Don’t go sayin’ you’re sorry. You got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I just kept thinking about that day, and I…I froze,” you whispered, throat tight with a knot of emotion. “I was so stupid to think I could do it.”

“At least you tried, alright? That’s what matters. Nobody expects you t’ just jump right back into it after all these years.”

“I know, I just–”

“No, don’t you start spiralin’ on me, y’hear? Stop beatin’ yourself up about it. Nobody got hurt, and that’s what we all care about at the end of the day. When it comes down to it, if I’ve gotta choose between makin’ sure you’re safe, or stoppin’ a twister, I’m gonna choose you every damn time.”

His words made your chest grow warm, and your bottom lip quivered. He hadn’t changed in all this time. He was just as caring as ever.

When you threw your arms around his neck to hug him, he hugged you right back, rocking you from side to side before he finally released you. Cool drops of rain began to fall from the sky, interrupting your moment.

Quickly, Rhett stood, reaching for your hand to pull you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get to the truck.” With his hand still wrapped around yours, he pulled you along, and you ran back through the field to the place where he’d stopped the truck.

When you reached the old Sierra, the team was just finishing putting all the nitrogen tanks in the back of the truck. It appeared that Danny and Finn had managed to jury-rig the trailer so that Rhett could get it back home.

Hurriedly, Rhett guided you into the truck in an effort to shield you from the rain, slamming the door shut and stopping only for a moment to talk to the guys before they parted ways. He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine, maneuvering through the field and back out onto the main road.

The drive back home was silent, save for the sound of rain pounding against the roof of the truck. You stared out the window, still upset at the way you had reacted.

“You don’t have to hold up your end of the deal now, since I couldn’t hold up mine,” you finally told Rhett, referring to the promise he’d made to ride in the rodeo that weekend.

But he shook his head. “Nah, you still did, even if ya didn’t hold out for the whole thing. If you had to face somethin’ that scares you, it’s only fair that I do it too. I’m gonna get on a bull this weekend, because that’s what I said I’d do.”

You let out a breath. “Well, I’ll be in the stands cheering you on then.”

“Jus’ like old times, huh?”

“Yeah…like old times.”

You were choosing not to dwell on the fact that during ‘old times’1, you’d felt his blood seep through your fingers as you fought to keep him alive after that bull had driven a horn into his stomach. That was a freak occurrence. It wouldn’t happen this time around.

At least, that’s what you hoped.

Later that morning, you arrived back on the Abbott farm, feeling weary from the adrenaline crash, as well as the lack of sleep from the night before. Once Rhett stopped in the driveway, you stumbled out of the truck and onto the red dirt.

The sky was gray, indicating that the storm was following you, and would surely dump buckets of rain on the property. It seemed to have calmed down, so it didn’t appear as if it would turn into anything serious. You knew your poor nerves could not handle another twister that day.

The team converged as you headed toward the porch, but you paused when you heard Danny speaking to Rhett. He was trying to keep his voice low so you wouldn’t hear, but you caught it anyway. “There’s more damage than we thought. Specifically to the wiring on the trailer. It’s gonna take longer to fix,” he explained.

You felt an aching pang in your chest. This was all your fault.

You didn’t stick around to hear what Rhett had to say. You simply trudged up the porch steps and into the house. You just wanted to be alone, but to your dismay, Cecilia was in the home office, which had a full view of the entryway you were currently in.

She saw the bleak look on your face, and she immediately rose from her seat at the desk. “Honey, what happened?”

Her concern was what broke you. Instantly, more tears welled up in your eyes, and your shoulders shook as a sob left your throat. Without hesitation, she came to your aid, wrapping her arms around you. “Hey now, you’re gonna be just fine.”

You didn’t believe that.

When Rhett stepped into the house, he took in the sight of his mother comforting you, and he spared her a saddened glance. She nodded in understanding, though no words were shared between the two of them. He headed into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee, deciding it best to give you space.

A few minutes later, after you finally excused yourself to head upstairs and get some rest, Cecilia joined her son in the kitchen.

Rhett stood at the sink, idly stirring his coffee as he stared out into the water-washed scene unfolding outside the kitchen window. “She wasn’t ready, Mom,” he murmured.

“I can see that,” she replied. “What happened out there? Radio said a twister touched down.”

“It did. We were tryin’ to get in range so we could drop the tanks. But as soon as it touched down she started panicking. Like full-on hyperventilatin’. I had to swerve off the road and as soon as I stopped, she jumped out. Scared me to death. Thought the twister was gonna take her from me.”

Saying those words sent his heart quickening in his chest. He had to face the fact that he still cared so deeply for you, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing you.

“Glad you both made it outta there safely,” Cecilia murmured, moving to pour herself her second cup of coffee for the day. “Just give her time, Rhett.”

“I will,” he agreed. He downed the rest of the bitter liquid in his mug before he set the ceramic in the sink. “Gon’ go out and fix some of the stuff that got damaged in the twister. We won’t be goin’ out again for a bit, not ‘til we get everythin’ up and runnin’ again.”

He said this to give his mother peace of mind. He knew how much she worried whenever he went out on a chase. The fear of losing her boy was a very real one.

Meanwhile, you were curled up in bed, curtains drawn, swathing the room in darkness. You hoped you would be able to get some sleep, but you were wide awake, mind racing a mile a minute. So, instead of wallowing in self-pity, you forced yourself to get up. Might as well busy yourself to get your mind off of things.

You decided to head to your great-aunt’s house to continue your cleaning project. As you ambled outside, you caught sight of Rhett, Danny, and Finn in the barn, working on getting the trailer repaired. Grimacing, you averted your eyes and instead climbed into your car.

For the next few days, you avoided Rhett, because you felt so terrible about the entire debacle. But there was never any judgment in his eyes when he looked upon you. He truly did not blame you for what had happened.

In the end, he was the one who came to you, unable to deal with your withdrawn demeanor. He approached you one morning as you were getting ready to leave.

“Hey, I, uh, was wonderin’...I know you’ve got a lot of stuff to haul outta your aunt’s house. Want some help? I can bring my truck.”

You began to protest. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “Y’ shouldn’t have to do it all by yourself.”

He looked so earnest, his eyes pleading, his mouth curved into a hopeful smile. How could you say no to him? “Okay, sure. Why not?”

He tried not to appear too eager, but it was written all over his face. “Alrighty, I’ll bring the truck ‘round!”

That was how you found yourself in the passenger seat of the Sierra again, happy that you were headed somewhere that didn’t involve a raging storm that could potentially kill you both.

When you arrived at the house, you led Rhett up to the porch, where you stopped to retrieve the spare key from beneath the welcome mat.

“Some things never change,” he murmured upon seeing you locate the key. “She always kept that key there, didn’t she?”

You smiled as you unlocked the door. “She did.”

As you stepped into the house, Rhett paused in the entryway to glance around. A lot had changed since you’d arrived. Many things were packed away in boxes. But it still held a nostalgic feel.

“Remember when she’d let us crash here in between chases?” He asked.

How could you forget? “Do I ever. Those were the days.”

You remembered so vividly, curling up in sleeping bags around the living room floor, too excited to sleep, knowing a storm cell could be developing at any moment. Oh, to be young and naive again, endowed with a feeling of invincibility.

“So…weather analyzin’. How’s that treatin’ ya?” Rhett continued in an effort to kill any awkward silence.

You shrugged as you set about organizing the kitchen, motioning for him to get involved. “Pretty well. I actually really like it.”

“Yeah? Must be a lot cushier than facin’ the storms head-on. At least you got a screen separatin’ you from all the destruction.”

“Yep. It’s a lot safer, that’s for sure.”

“How’s livin’ in Silver Spring?”

“I can say we don’t get many twisters. Which I’m happy about.”

“Guess that’s a plus,” came his response.

You opened up the pantry, preparing to sort through all the food that remained there. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” Rhett said as he grabbed the box of garbage bags you silently pointed to.

You continued speaking as he placed the box in your hand. “How’d you meet Zara and all them? They all went to OU together. You’re the odd man out.”

He smirked. “What, think a dumb hick like me can’t hang around educated folk?”

You rolled your eyes as you opened one of the garbage bags. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know,” he assured you. “Actually, Zara heard about us. She read the news stories about what happened. She got a hold of me a couple years ago and started askin’ questions. Wanted to see if I’d like to get involved with her project. So I said, why the hell not? She introduced me to her team and had me come to OU to see how their setup worked.”

“You got to see it in action?” You were intrigued.

“Yeah. Jeslyn’s pretty fuckin’ brilliant when it comes to building things. She and Danny and Finn are the ones that put together a machine that can simulate a twister. Zara used a tank of nitrogen to stop the twister. Obviously it ain’t the same as the real thing, but I thought it was pretty damn cool. Figured I didn’t have much to lose, so I teamed up with ‘em, and we’ve been workin’ together ever since.”

“Have you guys been testing out the nitrogen stuff for very long?”

“It ain’t been field tested, if that’s what you mean. We’re tryin’ to see if it works on an actual twister first. After that, Zara wants to get a grant so she can start testin’ on a larger scale. Plus, Danny and Finn are workin’ on this new radar equipment, once it’s ready we’re gonna take it out on a chase with us. The idea is that it’ll help us track storm cells better, and hopefully let us know what we’re up against faster.”

“Huh, I didn’t know they were working on that,” you mused, intrigued.

“Yeah, they’ve been puttin’ it together for months now. I think they don’t wanna jinx it, so they haven’t said anything. But Finn just told me the other day that it’ll probably be ready for the next chase we go on.”

“Wow. They’re all weather geniuses.” Knowing they were doing so much sent a pang of deep longing through your chest.

Part of you wished you were doing more than sitting behind a screen at work, watching the weather ravage the country, unable to do anything more but issue warnings and hope for the best. If only you had the guts to actually get out there and take action against the phenomenon that had taken your friends from you.

“They sure are,” Rhett agreed. “Sometimes I feel pretty damn inadequate because I’m just a farm boy from Oklahoma. But they still wanna hang with the likes of me, for whatever reason.”

“Because you’re pretty great,” you heard yourself say. You hadn’t meant to speak it aloud.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he smiled a crooked smile, the apples of his cheeks rounding.

In an effort to change the subject, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did anyone talk to Beau about you riding this weekend? After what happened on Monday I, uh, was so frazzled that I forgot to track him down.”

“Zara talked to him. Said she wasn’t gonna let me get out of it so easy. So, I’m on track to ride after the rest of the contestants. Beau said it was gon’ be an honorary thing, ‘cause apparently it’s been ten years on the dot since I rode last.”

Ten years. Had it really been that long? So much had happened since then, it felt like both a lifetime and no time at all had passed.

“Are you nervous?” You questioned.

He shrugged, suddenly finding an old box of crackers very interesting, avoiding your gaze. “Kinda.”

He was scared to death, you realized. You could see it in his eyes. But he was pushing himself to do this. At this point, it wasn’t just because he’d made a deal with you. It was because he wanted to prove to himself that he could do it. That he could face his fears and come out on the other side. Perhaps not unscathed, but a better person because of it.

“You’re gonna do great,” you assured him, offering a vote of confidence.

“Sure hope so.”

The rest of the morning carried on with quiet conversation as you worked to clear out the kitchen. A few hours later, you were feeling accomplished, and hungry. So Rhett offered to take you to the diner in town for lunch.

That was how you found yourself sitting in a booth across from him, a spread of food between you both. You reminisced about the past, talking about times before everything had fallen apart. Good memories that you could both share laughter over.

You found yourself gazing at Rhett, at his easy smile and his sparkling eyes, illuminated by the early afternoon light shining through the windows, and you were transported back to a time when you were so in love with him. A time when you promised him you would be his forever.

“You listenin’?” His voice, low and velvety, pulled you back to reality.

“I…I’m sorry, I was distracted,” you sheepishly replied.

He looked at you, brow pulling together, as if he knew you’d been admiring him. But he didn’t acknowledge it. “I was askin’ if you wanted to get outta here and head back to the farm.”

“Oh, um, sure. Yeah, let’s get back.”

With that, he opened his wallet and pulled out some cash for a tip before he stood to his feet. You followed suit, and once he’d paid for the meal, you made your way back out to the truck. Things were comfortable between the two of you again. The events that had happened earlier that week during the chase faded into the background, nothing more than a memory.

You were glad you had agreed to let him come and help you. It had cleared the air and made way for your friendship to continue blossoming, slowly repairing after so much time apart.

The rest of the week went by in a breeze. You kept busy with working in your aunt’s house, allowing Rhett to tag along when he had the chance to. When he wasn’t with you, he was working alongside his father on the farm, or he was repairing the trailer so it could be reattached to the hitch on his truck.

Strangely enough, the weather had calmed down, despite it being storm season. There had been some rain showers here and there, but no storms, and no twisters, either. You were glad, because you weren’t sure if your poor nerves could handle another storm that week.

You were glad for the lighthearted distraction of going to the rodeo. You hadn’t been to one in such a long time. You were looking forward to all the sights and sounds. Aside from Rhett’s near fatal injury, you had nothing but good memories of attending rodeos.

You couldn’t help but catch on to the joy emanating from Amy at the prospect of watching her uncle ride a bull. She was over the moon about it. She had never seen him ride before, as she hadn’t even been born yet when he was still competing. All she knew about that time of his life was through the stories that he and her grandparents had told her.

“Hey! You wanna help me make a sign for uncle Rhett?” The girl asked you as you came downstairs that Saturday morning.

You could see that she had all of her supplies ready, spread out across her grandmother’s office floor. An assortment of colored markers, glitter glue, paint, and poster board. You couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness.

“Sure! Let me get a cup of coffee and I’ll come help,” you told her.

Her eyes went wide with excitement and she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yay! Okay, I’ll be in here waiting for you!” She said, scurrying into the office.

Her childlike wonder warmed your heart. You were happy you’d agreed to stay at the Abbotts, if only for the whimsy Amy brought to the experience. Her personality was almost too big for her small body. It was clear that she was the greatest joy in both her grandparent's and Rhett’s lives.

You were more than happy to help her make a sign for the rodeo. After you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you settled on the hardwood floor of the office, right beside Amy. She handed you different supplies and even allowed you to write the words she wanted to say on the poster board.

“You write better than me, so I want you to do it. I want the words to be really big, so Uncle Rhett can see ‘em!” She explained.

“Okay, what do you want me to write?”

“I was thinking ‘you got this Uncle Rhett!’”

“I like it!”

You settled into the carefree fun of making a glittery rodeo sign, enjoying Amy’s creative little touches here and there as she added stickers and designs.

Halfway through, the screen door squealed open, and Amy jumped up in a panic when she realized it was Rhett.

“What’re you gals up to?” He asked as he strolled into the house.

“Don’t come in here!” Amy cried, rushing to push him away. “We’re workin’ on a top secret surprise!”

His brows shot up, and he stole a glance at you, currently holding the poster board at an angle so he couldn’t see what it said. “Oh yeah? You in cahoots with my niece now?” He asked you, smile playing on his lips.

“Maybe,” came your playful response. “Don’t go spoiling your surprise now. We’ll let you see it later.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Alright, alright. I’m goin’,” he said as he held his hands up in surrender.

You kept the sign hidden until you knew for certain he’d gone upstairs. Amy bounded back over to you, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow as she exclaimed, “Whew! That was close.”

“Let’s hurry and finish it so we can hide it until later,” you suggested, voice hushed and playfully urgent.

The girl agreed, and you both set to work, hurriedly finishing up the sign. Once you were done, you put it in an inconspicuous place, hidden away from Rhett’s prying eyes. As you helped Amy put all her art supplies away, you were struck with a warm feeling, blossoming through your chest. Here you were, making signs to cheer Rhett on, anticipating his ride later that night, just like you used to not too long ago.

You were always his biggest fan at the rodeo, that was for certain. You’d made many a sign in your day, with his name scrawled across the poster board, decorated with curlicues and glitter. You never thought it was something you’d be doing again. Oh, how things had changed. In the short time that you’d been here, your fondness for Rhett had returned. You supposed it had never left, to begin with. It had just been lying dormant for six years.

You should have known the blue-eyed cowboy would win you over again. You never could resist him.

Later on that day, as evening time approached, the excitement was palpable. Amy was bubbling with it, and it was rubbing off on everyone else. Zara, Jeslyn, Finn, and Danny arrived at the house to wish Rhett good luck before his ride.

Cecilia was fretting, making sure Royal and Amy were ready, never one to be late to anything. Royal was amused at her behavior, and you caught him smiling fondly at her, a glimmer in his eyes. He, too, was eager to see his son ride, he just had a much different way of showing it.

He never could fully accept that Rhett had walked away from riding. In fact, there had been a time when he was even disappointed in the boy for doing so.

Royal himself had once been on top of his game as a bull rider, when he was but a young man. He had suffered many injuries during his time in the riding circuit, but he’d always gotten back on the bull. He had chastised Rhett for quitting, and although he never said it, part of him felt that his son was too soft. He needed to toughen up and get back in the ring.

It had been a point of contention between father and son, but they had since moved past it. However, now that Rhett was getting on the back of a bull again, Royal was very pleased. He might even go as far as to admit that he was proud.

Rhett, on the other hand, was riddled with anxiety. He remembered so clearly the way he used to feel before a ride. It was as if electricity was thrumming through his veins, driving his every movement. It was deliciously exhilarating. But now, all he felt was fear.

He kept replaying the night of his injury. It was just a freak incident. It wouldn’t happen again. But there was still the question of “what if?” in the back of his mind. He didn’t remember the pain he felt when it happened. He’d been too hyped up on adrenaline. It was almost an out-of-body experience. As if he wasn’t the one being gored by a bull. That was someone else. Another unlucky rider.

Even as he stumbled backward, his body colliding with the sand beneath him, it wasn’t real. It was a dream. A figment of his imagination. Until he was being dragged to safety and you were above him, voice filled with terror as you begged him to stay with you. That was when reality hit him like a ton of bricks, and the pain began to radiate throughout his entire body.

But that was then. This was now. Things were different. He’d long since healed from his injury, though its scar remained, a constant reminder of what he had endured. But after losing his brother and sister-in-law, along with one of his dearest friends, he had learned that oftentimes, the pain of grief was far worse than any sort of physical pain.

If he had been able to survive the agony of loss, then he could survive a brief ride on an angry bull.

Having the people he loved most there to cheer him on made it a little easier to stomach the thought of riding. But most of all, having you there was the most wonderful part.

“You’re gonna do great. We’ll all be cheering you on the whole time,” you assured him, voice soft, as you shared a moment alone.

He mustered a smile, humming lowly. “Y’really think I can do it?”

“I know you can.”

Your vote of confidence meant the world to him. It was his driving force as he climbed into his truck and headed to the rodeo grounds. He was going to be just fine.

Later that night, you were all arriving at the rodeo, spirits high as you all climbed out of your respective vehicles. You’d ridden with Royal, Cecilia, and Amy in the beat up old Ranger that had been in the family for years.

As soon as you climbed out of the truck, Amy was pulling you along, talking a mile a minute. “C’mon! We have to get some kettle corn before it starts!” She urged. She waved the rest of the group along.

You all found yourselves in line for the aforementioned kettle corn. The different food smells transported you to rodeos past, and the pressing weight of nostalgia took your breath away.

“How you doing?” Came the voice of Zara, who stood behind you in line.

You turned, offering her a smile. “I’m okay! Kinda nervous for Rhett, but I know he’ll do great.”

She nodded in agreement. “Oh yeah, he’ll be just fine. I’ve never seen him ride before, so I can’t wait! He tells us all stories sometimes about his riding days. It’ll be cool to finally see him in action.”

“He was awesome,” you told her, “really, he had such a knack for it. I’m glad he’s getting back out there, even if it’s only for one night.”

“Yeah. It’s brave of him, I think. Facing his fears and all that.”

“It is.” Or maybe it was foolish. Either way, it was happening, and you were going to support him if it was the last thing you did.

Once everyone had their own respective snacks, you all followed Royal and Cecilia up to the stands. The voices of those around you overlapped. Fragments of conversations. Old friends catching up. Church ladies gossiping. Young girls giggling over the cute cowboys who would be riding that night.

You took your seat, eyes flickering across the ring, searching for any sign of Rhett behind the gates. Your belly was fluttering with butterflies. Your heart was racing. Your palms were sweaty. When it came time to stand for the National Anthem, you could hardly sing along, voice coming out shaky and breathless.

The late spring air was cool against your heated skin, but you hardly noticed it, hand swiping at your forehead where perspiration had begun to form. As you sat back down after the anthem, you felt Cecilia’s hand on your arm.

She shot you a reassuring smile, but you could see the wariness in her eyes. She was worried, too. “He’ll be fine,” she said, more so to convince herself.

You nodded. “Yeah, he will be.”

Then the announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Good evenin’, Amelia County! We’ve got a fantastic lineup for y’all tonight!” He began listing the names of the boys who would be riding in the circuit. “We’re changin’ things up a little with an honorary ride. Want you to give a warm welcome to Rhett Abbott, Wabang native, who used to ride regularly in our rodeos! He’ll be closin’ out the circuit for us tonight with a final ride. So sit back, relax, and get ready to cheer on our riders! Let the fun begin!”

His choice of words was amusing. Watching bull riding was the least relaxing thing out there.

“We have to wait for everyone to go before we can even see him ride?” Amy complained.

You were inclined to agree with her dismay. Your anxiety was only going to increase as time passed. You knew you wouldn’t be able to focus on any other riders because you would be too busy thinking about him.

With each contestant that was called up, your anticipation mounted. You tuned out the rest of the crowd. All the voices, all the sounds, the reverberation of the loudspeakers. None of it mattered.

You used to be behind those gates, when you were working in the first aid tent. You’d witnessed Rhett’s pre-ride jitters more times than you could count. He would often seek you out for comfort. He loved when you’d come up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his back. It would always ground him.

He didn’t have that now. He was behind those gates by himself. Part of you wished you were back there with him, but you quickly pushed that thought aside. He was a grown man, he could handle it alone.

You instead tried your best to focus on each rider, attempting to enjoy the rodeo.

Subconsciously, you were counting down the minutes until Rhett’s ride.

Much to your relief, it all went by quickly, and before you even realized it, it was time for him to come out. Beside you, Amy jumped to her feet and held up her sign, hoping to get his attention as he climbed into the chute. You leaned forward in your seat, and at that very moment, he lifted his head, and locked eyes with you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over your heart. He nodded, and then bowed his head. Sitting atop a creature teeming with virile energy sent his pulse pounding in his ears.

He was surrounded by handlers, all making sure he was securely in place. Some of these guys he’d known his entire life. A few had even worked alongside him when he was still riding regularly.

“Y’ready, son?” One of them asked. Jason McGowan.

Rhett let out a breath, shifting his gaze straight ahead. His gloved hand was wrapped securely in the rope beneath him, keeping him in place. The animal he was seated upon shifted, snorting loudly, growing antsy and impatient.

“As I’ll ever be,” Rhett murmured. His chest felt tight. His thighs were trembling. Was he even strong enough to hold on for this? Could he really do it?

He counted down in his head. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Then he nodded, and in a split second, the chute burst open, and he was lurching forward as the bull jumped out into the ring. The beast writhed and roared beneath him, bucking furiously, tossing him about like a rag doll.

In the stands, you shot to your feet, holding your breath as you stared at Rhett. Come on, come on, come on. He held on for dear life, free arm in the air. The clock was ticking, but you never dared to glance at it. You would not take your eyes off of him.

Cecilia grabbed your arm again. You held tightly to her, both of you watching your boy, silently praying for him to succeed.

Just a little longer. You can do it.

And then he let go. His body sailed through the air, and he hit the dirt, but he kept running, stumbling away from the raging animal as a pair of rodeo clowns directed the bull’s attention elsewhere.

Rhett straightened, shoulders squared as his eyes flickered up to the large screen to see his time. His name soared to the top of the scoreboard.

He had the best time of the night.

Around him, the crowd went wild. But he didn’t care about any of them. Frantically, he searched for you, electric blue filled with pride and shock all at once. He finally saw you, cheering for him at the top of your lungs, screaming his name from the stands. He swore he could hear you. Over everyone, there was your voice, praising him, calling for him.

His cheeks were wet, and he realized there were tears pouring down his face.

But he was grinning, teeth flashing white, beaming in the golden light cast upon him.

I did it. I fuckin’ did it.

He wasn’t sure when his legs started moving, but before he knew it, he was running, boots kicking up sand as he threw himself over the barricade separating the stands from the ring. He took the steps two at a time, making a beeline for you.

Your beautiful face was full of adoration, and the moment you saw him coming at you, you pushed your way through the crowd, nearly tripping over your own feet as you rushed to meet him. You heard whistles and cheers around you, friends and strangers alike urging you both on.

As soon as you reached each other, he was throwing his arms around your waist, crushing you to him. You laughed musically, despite the tears that were running from your eyes. You held him tightly, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.

“I did it,” he whispered in your ear. Then he laughed. “I did it, honeybee!”

You pulled back to gaze into his beautiful face. Honeybee. Oh, how you’d missed that nickname. “You did, Rhett,” you echoed. “I’m so proud of you.”

He lingered, shining eyes locked with your own. The surrounding activity faded into the background, and it felt as if you were the only two people in the entire world. You were suddenly very aware of the warmth of his body against yours. The feeling of his chest heaving in time with his breaths. The beating of his heart. If only for a moment, you were transported back to a time when you were so in love.

It hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing all the oxygen from your lungs in one fell swoop.

Oh my god, I’m still in love with him.

You let go of him as if you’d been stung, and before he could react, he was flooded with congratulatory hugs and pats on the back. You faded into the background and watched him receive showers of attention. But you were reeling, trying to process the emotions swirling through you, much like the tornadoes you used to chase.

What were you going to do with this knowledge? You supposed it had always been there. From the moment you saw him when you returned to Wabang, the feelings that had been dormant for six years were brought back to the surface.

You were supposed to have moved on. But the truth was, you never had.

You couldn’t do anything about it. It felt like the worst possible time to realize you loved him. You had a job and a life back in Maryland. You couldn’t make a relationship work with him, even if you wanted to.

It was no surprise that you found yourself in the parking lot, wanting to be away from the crowd. Wanting space. If you’d driven yourself to the rodeo, you would already be leaving. But you were dependent on other people to get you back to the Abbott's. And you certainly weren’t about to walk back by yourself.

Instead, you found yourself leaning against Royal’s truck, your mind moving a million miles a minute. Why couldn’t you just move on? You’d had plenty of time to do so. What was it about Rhett that rendered you unable to let him go?

He was your first love. Your only love. You had tried dating other people, but nothing had worked out. You always chalked it up to you having high standards, but you realized that perhaps all this time, it had never worked with other people because you were still in love with Rhett.

What a predicament to be in.

You were still reeling slightly by the time the rodeo was over. It wasn’t long until you heard the sound of familiar voices. Amy’s voice rang out over the parking lot as she praised her uncle.

“You were so awesome! I knew you would be! You looked so cool on top of that bull!” She rambled on.

Rhett was grinning, face flushed, as he tugged Amy into his side for a hug. “Thank y’, Ames,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“The kid’s right, you knocked it outta the park, man,” you heard Danny say as he clapped Rhett on the back. Everyone else chimed in with their own two cents.

You pushed yourself off of the truck and came into the light, integrating yourself back into the group. You wondered if any of them had noticed your absence.

“I think we should go out for ice cream to celebrate,” Finn suggested, at which Amy turned to her grandmother with wide, pleading eyes.

“Please, Gramma, can we?!” She begged, folding her hands beneath her chin.

Cecilia relented, a smile on her face as she leaned over and patted Rhett’s back. “Since it’s not a school night, why not?”

As Amy clapped in excitement, Rhett lifted his head, and he caught you looking at him. You held his gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but his attention was pulled away again by the sudden weight of Royal’s hand on his back.

A wordless “I’m proud of you, son.”

Rhett didn’t get to speak to you until after you’d all settled in at Marigold’s Ice Cream Parlor. After everyone had ordered their respective ice creams and milkshakes, and you stood nearby with two scoops of chocolate in a small cup, he approached you.

He had a cone of rocky road, his all-time favorite ice cream flavor. “Hey there,” he murmured, speaking lowly. He’d taken his hat off and left it in the truck, and he now sported a head of hat hair.

“Hi,” you answered. You suddenly felt like a pair of shy teenagers.

“Are y’alright?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but that was how it came out.

Rhett shrugged, licking at his ice cream. “I dunno, you ran off after my ride. You looked kinda panicked. Just thought I’d check on ya and make sure you were alright.”

Should you tell him? Would it be foolish to do so? “Well, I…”

“Hey Rhett, c’mere!” Jeslyn’s voice suddenly sounded across the parlor, cutting you off, and he glanced over. She was waving at him, encouraging him to hurry.

“One sec!” He responded before he turned back to you, expectant.

“Sorry…sorry, yeah, I’m totally fine. The crowd was just a lot.”

You could tell he didn’t quite believe you. “Okay. Just, uh, just wanted to make sure.” He offered an endearing smile, and your heart clenched in your chest. “Anyway, you wan’ come join us?”

You nodded and followed him to the table where everyone was seated. You found yourself sitting between him and Danny, and if only for a little while, you pushed aside all the stressors and uncertainties and allowed yourself to melt into the lighthearted atmosphere created around that table in the little family-owned ice cream parlor.

You found yourself laughing along with Rhett’s family and friends, listening to stories and anecdotes, sitting through Amy’s dramatic retelling of an anime she’d watched. You realized that you felt like you belonged here. As if this was where you were always meant to be. Your story was supposed to intersect with the stories of those around you.

Your life was always supposed to intersect with Rhett’s.

No matter where you went, or how far you ran, he would always be part of you. He was ingrained in your bones. In the very cell makeup of your being. The red string of fate tied you together for all eternity.

It was time you accepted that, and stopped trying to escape it.

So you chose not to fight it anymore. You let yourself care about him. Let yourself love him. And perhaps somewhere along the way, you would find it in yourself to tell him how you felt.

For now, you relished in the peace you felt with these people. And as you followed Royal, Cecilia, and Amy back out to the truck after your ice cream was long finished, you felt at ease for the first time in…well, as long as you could remember.

Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

That night, you found yourself in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of herbal tea to help relax your body, which was tense and sore from the events of the last several days. As you idly dipped the chamomile sachet in the mug full of hot water, you were alerted to the sound of the front door opening.

You turned to find Rhett stepping into the house. He’d come home around the same time you had, but he’d remained outside for a while, tinkering in the barn with the nitrogen trailer. It was completely repaired, and he was eager to get it back on the road for another chase soon.

As he toed his boots off quietly, he was made aware of your presence, and he offered you a sleepy smile. “Hey. Didn’t know anyone was still awake,” he murmured, socked feet padding against the floor as he walked into the kitchen.

“I couldn’t really sleep,” you replied, “figured I’d make some tea. Want some?”

He shook his head as he opened the fridge, leaning down to glance at its contents. “Naw. Ain’t a tea guy, remember?”

You couldn’t help but smile. Of course you remembered. The only tea he liked was sweet iced tea. Instead, he pulled a jug of milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass. You longed to occupy the silence, so you spoke.

“You were great tonight.”

He took a swig of milk and then gazed into his glass, swirling it in his hand. Then he looked at you, bashful smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“Think you’ll do it again?”

At that, he scoffed. “Hell no. I loved it, I gotta admit. But my arms and legs are so fuckin’ sore right now. I’m too old for it. My days of bull wranglin’ are over, that’s for damn sure.” He downed the rest of his milk before he set the glass in the sink. While he gazed out the window into the night, he continued. “Storm chasin’ is my calling now.”

You hummed softly, eyes falling to a random spot on the floor. You toed it with your slipper-clad foot. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

He turned to face you. “It wasn’t. But I’m glad I did it. Showed me I can face m’ fears and still come out stronger on the other side.”

“Yeah,” you quietly agreed. His words struck something in you. A strange ache in your chest. A yearning for something.

He pushed away from the sink, how forehead crinkling as he raised his brows. “Welp, I’m gon’ jump in the shower and head to bed. See ya in the mornin’, girl.”

Before he could leave, you called out to him. “Rhett?”

He paused in the doorway of the kitchen, the orange glow of the counter lamp casting shadows over his handsome face. “Yeah?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you considered what you were about to say. “At the rodeo, after your ride, you, um, you called me honeybee.”

He hesitated, his body language stiffening slightly. “Oh, I did?” He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Didn’t realize it.”

If the light had been brighter, you might’ve seen the tips of his ears turn pink.

“What I’m trying to say is, I…I liked it.”

His sheepishness gave way into a small, crooked smile. “In that case, I meant t’say it then.”

You couldn’t hide your own smile. “Reminds me of…” You trailed off.

“Before. I know,” he agreed.

You took a step forward. The words were on the tip of your tongue. The realization you’d come to when he held you in his arms after his ride. You could confess it to him. Tell him everything.

“Uncle Rhett?” Suddenly, the small, tired voice of Amy cut through the tension in the air.

The spell was broken. Rhett turned, seeking out the source of the voice. “What’s wrong, Ames?” He asked, moving to her aid.

“I just need a glass of water.”

He stepped toward the staircase and held his hand out to her. “C’mon. Let’s get ya some water.”

He guided the girl into the kitchen, and you took that as your opportunity to sneak out while he tended to her. When he turned to look for you, you were gone.

With your tea in hand, you crept up the stairs, careful not to spill any of the hot liquid as you went. When you made it to Rhett’s room, you set the cup down on the dresser and hurried to shut the door behind you.

Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes. You had almost admitted everything to him right there in the middle of his kitchen. Part of you was glad for Amy’s interruption, while the other part was upset.

You knew your feelings would come out into the open sooner or later.

But you also had some other things to consider now. More than just rekindling feelings for your first love.

What Rhett said had struck you. Face your fears and come out stronger on the other side.

You still had a deal to carry out, after all. If he could face years of trauma and fear and live to tell the tale, so could you.

You made your decision. You knew exactly what you needed to do. It was time to stop running from the danger, and instead, run toward it.

The next morning, you woke to the sun streaming in through the window. It was Sunday morning, which meant Cecilia would be rushing about, getting ready for church. You allowed yourself a few moments in bed, staring up at the ceiling, before you finally swung your legs over the edge and stretched.

You quickly readied yourself for the day, throwing on some clean clothes before you padded across the hall to brush your teeth. You could hear activity happening downstairs, and the smell of breakfast cooking reached your nose.

Eager to join everyone, you finished your routine and then scurried down the squeaky old steps. In the kitchen, you found Rhett, Royal, and Amy all around the table as Cecilia flitted about the kitchen, finishing breakfast preparations.

Rhett saw you first, and his face broke into a smile, eyes glimmering in the golden sunlight that streamed in through the window over the sink. “G’mornin’,” he greeted.

Amy’s head popped up, and she grinned at the sight of you. “Oh, good! You’re up!” She exclaimed, rushing over to take your hand and usher you to the table. You giggled at her eagerness, and you didn’t miss the fact that she guided you to sit in the open chair next to Rhett.

“Mornin’, hon,” Cecilia called out as she stepped over to the table with a skillet full of bacon. “Get yourself a plate and have some breakfast! Was rushin’ this mornin’ so I forgot to set one out for you, I’m sorry.”

“I got it,” Rhett volunteered before you could even stand. He rose from his seat and retrieved a plate from the dishware cabinet.

“Thank you,” you told him, taking the plate from his outstretched hand and nodding to show your gratitude. His eyes lingered on your own before he took his seat beside you again.

“Are you guys in love?” Amy blurted from across the table.

Rhett nearly choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Cecilia made a chastising sound, tapping her granddaughter’s shoulder in disapproval at the question. But you could see that even she was barely hiding a smile. Luckily for Royal, who was beside you, he could hide his own smile behind his coffee mug.

“What makes you ask that?” Was what you finally settled on as your reply, trying to sound nonchalant. You grabbed a biscuit from the bowl in the middle of the table, busying yourself with pulling the bread apart to be buttered.

“Gramma says you are.”

“Amy.”

“What?! You did say that.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should repeat it,” Cecilia scolded.

The girl huffed, shaking her head as she poked her fork at her scrambled eggs. “I just wanted to know.”

“Leave ‘em be, Amy,” Royal said, despite the amusement still on his features. He glanced at you. Even he knew the answer to the question Amy had asked. Thankfully, he’d saved you or Rhett the embarrassment of answering. You knew what you would have said, but were you ready to admit it out loud? Was Rhett?

Aside from the slightly awkward question from Amy, breakfast carried on without a hitch, but you were distracted, so many things heavy on your mind. Everything was about to change, you could feel it. Building in the distance, like an impending storm.

You volunteered to do the dishes to allow the rest of the family, sans Rhett, to get to church on time. Cecilia expressed her gratitude as she rushed Amy out the door, and soon, you were all alone in the house with Rhett.

“Y’alright? Got kinda quiet at breakfast,” he murmured as he helped you clear the table.

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him.

You stood there together at the kitchen sink, staring into each other’s faces.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

He leaned in closer. “Because if Amy’s question bothered you…”

He was so close you could smell his cologne. The proximity took your breath away. “Oh, um, it…it didn’t.”

“Good.” Did his gaze just flicker to your lips?

“Yeah. Good.”

He’d definitely looked at your lips. You caught him that time. A look of longing swirled in the deep blue, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning, swallowed up in an ocean. Your chest went tight. You could barely breathe, and yet, you’d never felt more alive.

“What would you ‘ve told her, if you answered her question?” He inquired.

I would tell her that I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I never will.

“I…”

You lost your train of thought, dizzy at his proximity, at his smell, at the sound of his hitched breaths. It was as if an invisible force was between you, pulling you toward each other. Your mouth parted, but no words came out.

He was going to kiss you, and you were going to let him.

And then, as if the universe was playing a terribly cruel joke on you both, the sound of pounding on the door made you both jump apart as if you’d been struck by lightning. Your hand flew to your chest, pressed over your racing heart as a shock of fright sizzled through you.

“Jesus,” Rhett grumbled under his breath as he whirled around, crossing the floor in a few big strides before he threw open the front door, only to reveal Danny on the other side of the door.

“Didn’t you get my text?!” Danny asked, chest heaving.

“What? No! I ain’t even looked at my phone since this mornin’!” Rhett answered, breathless.

“Nasty storm’s rolling in! Up in Coal County!”

“Shit, gimme one sec, I’ll meet you guys outside!” He turned on his heel and rushed to grab his phone from the living room, where it was charging. Then he retrieved his hat from the peg near the door.

You watched him scramble, preparing to meet another storm head-on, and you knew, it was now or never. Before you even registered what you were doing, your feet were carrying you forward, out of the kitchen, right to the door.

“Rhett,” you heard yourself call out his name.

He stopped in the doorway, turning to look at you, one foot on the floor, the other on the porch. “Yeah?”

You squared your shoulders and spoke more confidently than you ever had in your life. “I’m coming with you.”

A silent understanding passed between you both. He nodded his head, and simply replied, “Let’s go.”

read the next part

*don't be a silent reader! reblog the works you enjoy!

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@sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fragilefearnie @floydsmuse

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#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott imagine #we own the sky

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graveyardlifeguard · 7 months ago

Text

Survivors Part 1

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

The shift started out as normal as it usually did. I mean, as normal as it could for the 118. I had picked up an extra night shift to try and help C Shift with a staffing issue they were currently having. Eddie, my fiancée, had already gone home for the night after our regular shift. As much as I would have loved to go home with him, I knew the extra money would be nice to have for the costs of planning a wedding.

I had only been at work for 3 hours, but I was already exhausted after having a cardiac arrest and a car flip over on the highway. Back-to-back. Shutting the back doors of the ambulance after restocking, I made my way upstairs to the kitchen area to grab a snack. It was currently 10pm and everyone else was in bed for the night. Right after grabbing a left-over slice of pizza out of the fridge, the bell and pager went off once again for a sick call at a nearby apartment complex.

My partner for the night, Alicia, quickly made her way out of the dorm rooms before shuffling towards the truck.

"Is there no such thing as a break?!" She yells from the passenger side of the truck.

I laugh as I move down the stairs towards the driver's side.

"What does the nice, bustiling city have for us this time?" I ask as Alicia looks over the computer, that is still updating with notes from the caller.

I start the truck up and we exit the station driving down the still busy city roads. Alicia lets me know that were going to The Regal Point Apartments for a 13-year-old male complaining of not feeling well. His mom called, concerned that her son's condition was deteriorating.

Pulling up to the apartment complex, Alicia grabs the medical bag while I grab the LifePak monitor. Luckily, this apartment complex has an elevator, so we don't have to trudge our way up four flights of stairs. Once at the correct apartment, the patient's mother, who introduces herself as Sheila. Alicia and I introduce ourselves with Sheila pointing us towards her son's bedroom. While walking towards his bedroom she begins to talk to us about his medical history.

"His name is Charlie, he's 13-years-old. He has an Auto-Immune disorder that forces him to stay inside all the time. The only times he gets to leave the house are to go to one of his many doctors' appointments."

Entering Charlie's room, Alicia once again introduces us and asks if she can check his vital signs. He agrees with Alicia beginning to check his blood pressure. Even in the small glow from his bedside lamp, I can see that Charlie looks sick. He appears pale with dark bags sitting underneath his eyes. Overall, he looks exhausted.

After checking all of his vital signs and talking to Sheila and Charlie more, I had a weird feeling start to form in my stomach. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something just did not feel right. The way that his mom seemed evasive with his full diagnosis and couldn't remember his medications, something just seemed...wrong. When Alicia asked the mom about us taking him to the hospital, she quickly stated that she does not believe that he needs to go to the hospital due to him having a weak immune system.

"Ma'am we understand your concerns, but we always recommend people go to the hospital to get checked out. Especially when they are as sick as Charlie is." I try once again.

Alicia was packing up the bag as Sheila repeats that she does not want Charlie to go. "I'll call his primary care doctor in the morning and see if they will see him." She states with a kind smile on her face.

The odd feeling again returns before we exit the house. Getting back in the truck, I keep the uneasy feeling to myself as Alicia writes the refusal report. I wait for her to finish typing before asking her.

"Did that seem odd to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, still looking over the report.

"Just the story of his diagnosis and things like that. She just seemed to have a lot of empty answers." I reply back.

"I didn't really get a weird feeling, but I also was talking more to Charlie than I was to the mom." She answers again.

"Something just seems off to me. Maybe I am just thinking too far into it." I state. I mean, it is late, the mom is probably tired after spending the day taking care of her son. That's what we will have to go with for now as Dispatch alerts us to another call we're needed on.

————

"How come you don't make this kind of breakfast for me when we're at home?" Eddie states as he comes bouncing into the kitchen. He's in full uniform which makes it hard for me to not turn around and admire him. I had always loved a man in uniform but there was just something about him in one that made it twenty times better.

"I only cook when I am here because if I start cooking at home, that means you'll expect it, and we can't have that." I reply to him.

He laughs before sneaking a quick kiss on my lips before lifting up my left hand and kissing my ring finger. Even though my engagement ring wasn't there, the little rubber one that replaced it on shift was still just as meaningful. Butterflies erupt in my heart at the small interaction.

Eddie coming to the 118 was the absolute best thing to ever happen to me. Before he arrived, I was a shy little Paramedic who just came to work to run calls and go home. My best friend Buck had been whining forever that I never went out and never spent any time living my life. Whatever that meant. Eddie being here brought out a whole new side of me that Buck says he had always been waiting to see. It was not just Eddie though; Christopher had been another missing piece in my life that I never knew I needed. It had been so easy to turn into a motherly figure for him. When he proposed, Eddie had made sure to include Christopher in it. Mostly because Christopher wouldn't allow him to not include him.

The station bell went off sharply, alerting everyone to a call. "I guess breakfast will just have to wait until later." I yell out downstairs to the crew as I shut off the stove and run downstairs. Hen and Chimney jump into the ambulance while I make my way to the Critical Care SUV. Right after getting engaged to Eddie, I had been promoted to a Critical Care Responder, aka Lieutenant. Which was a fancy way of saying that I had more responsibilities while riding by myself. I hop into the truck and make my way to the call behind the Fire truck and the Ambulance.

Arriving at the call, I let Captain Nash and his crew manage the situation. The best part about my new role, I had Chim and Hen underneath me, which meant they were more than capable of handling anything. I was more along the lines of helping hands when needed with these two. After realizing that I was not needed for this call and hearing another more critical call come out, I let everyone know I was leaving before hurrying on to the next call.

————

"Where did you disappear off to earlier?" I hear Eddie say from behind me.

I had just returned to the station after being gone for most of the day. I turn in my seat so I can fully see him. He's leaning against the door frame of my office with a small smile sitting on his face. As nice as it was to work together, it seemed almost impossible most of the time to actually see him. I smile up at him as he walks over and sits on the corner of my desk.

"I couldn't seem to find my way back here today. Everyone needed something at some point." I state as I lean forward to make some sort of physical contact with him, granted it was just my elbow touching his knee, but hey, it was something.

"I'm tired of everyone needing my girl today. I know you're great and all but damn." I laugh and shake my head at his compliment. He knew that calling me "his girl" was a sure-fire way to my heart.

"Listen, if you need me while you're out there, all you have to do is call me. That's what everyone else likes to do!" I remind him with a smile on my face.

He smiles back at me, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We're stuck like that for a moment, just smiling at each other alone in my office.

Eddie glances between me and the still open office door before pulling me to stand in front of him. Before I can ask him what he's doing, his lips are on mine like he hasn't kissed me in months. I quickly return the kiss and allow myself to enjoy the mental break. Before it can get too heavy, Eddie pulls away but just far enough away that our foreheads are still touching. We are both smiling like cheshire cats, and I don't think anything could be better than this. I pull back further and smile up at him.

"Not that I didn't enjoy that, what was that for?" I ask, still smiling. He just stares down at me before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I just missed my girl. That's all." Before I can respond to him, the station bell goes off once more alerting Eddie to another call. His head falls backwards with a groan escaping his mouth. I snort at his dramatics and place a kiss on his lips before pulling him out of the office. "Where are you going? You didn't get added to this." He asks as we walk towards the bay.

"I might as well grab a drink before I dive back into my paperwork." I tell him.

As we enter the bay and begin to separate, I feel a light smack on butt. The surprise of it caught me off guard causing me to lightly jump and yell out. I can hear Eddie laughing as he runs off towards the truck to leave. "I love you!" He yells out before hopping in the back. Eddie Diaz was going to be the death of me.

#911 imagine #eddie diaz #angst #imagines #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #ryan guzman

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actiniumwrites · 2 years ago

Text

NOTHING LEFT TO SAY

synopsis: after an argument with albedo in his lab, you storm off while albedo is left with regret over the words he said to you. wanting nothing more than to take back what he said, albedo sets out to apologize to you. unfortunately, it seems as though everything is getting in the way of him doing so

or, in other words, the three times albedo tried to apologize to you, and the one time he actually did

based on this request!

characters: albedo x gn!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, arguments, a tiny bit of swearing, descriptions of injuries and blood (not caused during the argument), established relationships, albedo is probably a bit ooc at times

notes: to the anon that sent this request to me, i am so sorry it took me around 5 months to actually write this request! i never meant for it to take this long, but i swore i would write it and i made sure i did. honestly i just wanted to make sure it was out before the year was over because i really liked the idea and didn’t want you to have to wait any longer. i hope you enjoy this <3

“I need another beaker,” Albedo said in his ever so monotonous voice.

Your eyes glanced hurriedly around the lab, “Albedo? We’re out of beakers. You used all of them.”

An annoyed sigh left Albedo’s lips for what had felt like the millionth time that afternoon. Coincidentally, it was also the first time he had looked at you all afternoon. You weren’t sure what was bothering him, but it was clear it was not something he wanted to talk about. Unless, of course, it was just one of those days where everything seems to piss him off. It could’ve been either of the two, and it was impossible to know which.

Albedo’s eyes left yours as he turned to look through his cabinets. A slight slamming sounded out after he shut each one with a little more pressure than usual. Frustration was running through his veins. It was just as you said, there really were no beakers left.

“Albedo? Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, “You know if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Albedo sighed again, “No, I’m fine. Let’s just continue working.”

“No, Albedo, I —” the crashing of glass rung out through the air, cutting you off from speaking. In your attempt at finding out what was wrong, your hands had begun moving with your words and soon enough they knocked a beaker full of chemicals onto the floor. Silence was what remained.

It had been nearly a full minute before either of you spoke again. You were too shocked and Albedo was far too calm looking for you to tell what he had been thinking. Soon enough, you realized that the chemicals that were now puddling on the floor were ones imported from Natlan. It had taken him an entire six months to obtain them.

“Get out.” Albedo said calmly.

“Wait, Albedo- I’m sorry! I know those took you forever to get, but I’ll fix it. I swear. Archons, I’m so sorry!”

Albedo’s icy blue eyes finally met yours for the second time that afternoon, “What don’t you understand? I said get out. I don’t need someone like you hanging around me if all you’re going to do is ruin my experiments.”

“Someone like…me? Albedo, I’m your lover. I’m not just— just some random person or your assistant or your intern or whatever! You don’t get to treat me like that,” you angrily spoke, “If you want me gone, then fine. I’m leaving. Don’t bother trying to find me — If you even care, that is.”

Those were the last words you had said to him before you stormed off. Albedo didn’t feel human emotions like every one else, but he was sure what he was feeling right about now was regret. He didn’t mean what he said to you. Dammit, he loved you — Albedo was sure of that. Now all he had done was ruin that too.

Apology Attempt #1: One Day After The Argument

Albedo sighed as he fiddled with the pen in his hand. Staring down at his papers for hours hadn’t been what he intended to do today, but he just couldn’t focus. It was cold in his lab, just as it always was. But today was different. The air felt different. Albedo was used to the cold, but not in the way it was when you were gone.

It was hard for him to admit it, but Albedo just isn’t the same when you’re not around. The way you encourage him makes him feel all warm inside — a feeling he doesn’t quite understand, but welcomes regardless. He feels more like himself, more at home.

So why did he have to go and ruin it?

Albedo’s eyes shut tightly and he let his head slump dramatically against his desk, disrupting the papers among the top of it. Normally, he’d get upset at such disorganized actions, but today he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was able to get any work done anyway.

“Albedo!” a high pitched voice run out in his lab following the sound of the door opening. Albedo begrudgingly spun his chair and opened his eyes, a fake smile on his face.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke softly. Although he didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, the alchemist couldn’t possibly push her away.

“Oh…where’s Y/n?”

Albedo fought the urge to wince at your name, forgetting that Klee was unaware of his regrettable argument with you, “They aren’t here right now, Klee. Is there something you needed them for?”

“No, but you’re always with Y/n. It’s weird that they aren’t here.” Albedo’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the little elf’s words. Was he really around you that much?

“It’s complicated right now, Klee. You see, I said something I never should have said and I hurt their feelings. I’m just trying to figure out a way to fix it and then they’ll be back, okay?”

“Oh! Oh! I know! You should get them flowers! Y/n loves flowers!” Klee said as she jumped up and down excitedly. A small smile cracked onto Albedo’s face at her excitement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. Thank you, Klee.”

Klee was gone soon after with Jean pulling her away. Albedo had taken that as his chance to go out to pick some flowers for you up on Starsnatch cliff. The wind had blown them around, but the Cecilia’s he had picked were as beautiful as ever. They were your favorite flowers, one of his favorite facts about you — mostly because they were his favorite flowers too, something you had bonded over when the two of you had first met. Albedo smiled to himself when he remembered the bouqet he had gotten for you on your first date and the way you smiled when you saw them in his hand. The painting he had done of you later that night still remained in his lab up on Dragonspine. It was a moment he never wanted to forget.

Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t much of a flowers guy, but he would make an exception for you. Only now, he hoped the flowers would hold the same amount of love in them even when they were followed by an apology.

When he had returned to Mondstadt’s gates, flowers in hand and apology replaying throughout his head, Albedo set out to find you.

Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long at all. As soon as he had walked toward Good Hunter, he had spotted you sitting at a table. Sitting around you were some of your guys’ coworkers and friends, Eula and Amber. There was plenty of food at the table, Amber was talking excitedly while Eula had an unusually bright smile on her face, and your eyes were creased as boisterous laughter fell from your lips.

The fondness in the alchemist’s eyes seemed to slip away as they made their way back to the neatly tied bouquet of Cecilia’s in his hand. Albedo looked to you again before looking back to his flowers. His hands clenched around them tightly as his mind fought back and forth.

Dammit, he thought. Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t sure what your reaction to seeing him would be and there was no way he was going to ruin your outing.

Albedo’s eyes were glued to the floor as he dreadfully turned and walked away from you, flowers still in hand and hung loosely by his side. At any moment, he felt they would slip and fall from his grip.

And by the time he got back to the Knights’ headquarters, the sunset faded into darkness and the clouds had moved in to cover the night’s moon. As he walked in, he was immediately met with the sight of Klee waiting in the corridor with her backpack all packed up for the day.

“Albedo!” She cheered when she saw him.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke tiredly, “Is Jean about to take you home?”

“Yep!” Klee said happily before her eyes wandered to the flowers in his hands, “Are those for, Y/n?”

Albedo looked to the flowers in his hands before kneeling down in front of Klee, “They were, but uh — Y/n couldn’t take them today.”

“Awww, so Klee’s idea didn’t work?” Klee frowned.

Albedo sighed as he thought of what to say to cheer her up. The small fake smile he had shown to her earlier returned to his face once more, “No, but that’s okay. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I gave them to you.”

“Really? Thank you, brother!” Klee jumped as she hugged him. Albedo laughed softly as he returned the hug. At least he was able to make someone happy today.

Apology Attempt #2: Three Days After The Argument

Day after day, everything was beginning to feel the same. An endless blur of work and experiments. Albedo just wanted you back and it had only been three days. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him, really. It just seemed like the circumstances never seemed to line up for the two of you. The fact that you guys didn’t live together certainly didn’t help.

Albedo glanced at his clock again for the first time in hours. It was nearly five in the afternoon now and Albedo had been so concentrated on finishing his experiment papers that he hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten.

Staring down at his papers, Albedo studied their contents. He wasn’t usually one to look at his work and think, “Good enough,” but tonight it would just have to do. The words on them looked rushed, scribbles almost. The lines between words seemed to blur together like watercolor, rendering them barely legible. But even so, Albedo grouped them together carefully into their assigned folder and set them aside for tomorrow.

The bag the young alchemist usually carried to work was hung by his side once again as he exited the door to his office. Turning behind him, he locked it haphazardly. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he completely locked it, but he wasn’t in the mood to care either. It was incredibly unlikely anyone would try to break into a Knight’s office anyway.

Albedo tried to tune out those in the corridor around him on his way out, but it was just no use. Why was it so busy tonight anyway? He certainly did not know and it wasn’t like he cared either. It didn’t look important so he had no use to bother with it. Keeping his eyes turned to the floor, Albedo carefully pushed around a few people before he got to the door. But before he could even reach for the door handle, a hand was placed on his shoulder followed by the sound of his name.

“Albedo?” the familiar voice of the librarian spoke, “I thought that was you. How come you’re leaving so early? I was hoping to catch you a little later if I’m being honest. Didn’t expect you to be on your way out so soon.”

Albedo huffed before turning around, “Hello, Lisa. I’ve been working all day and I’ve got some other stuff to do anyway. You know, preparing for a Dragonspine experiment that’s coming up in a week. I’m still missing some materials for it.” His excuse was as good as any other, and it wasn’t like Lisa would question him on it seeing as it lined up with all of his other work. And if she had noticed, she certainly didn’t say anything. He could only assume Klee had babbled about his current predicament to her and Jean. Hell, all of the Knights probably knew about it by now.

Yet, the smile Lisa had greeted him with still remained as bright as ever, “Oh, it’s no worry, sweetheart. But I did have to ask, have you completed the paperwork for that last Dragonspine expedition Jean asked you to do? You know, the one with the Liyue detectives? I know it’s a lot of work, especially since it deals with foreign affairs, but Jean really needs it done by next week and you know how stressed she gets…”

Lisa seemed to trail on forever sometimes, it was one of Albedo’s least favorite things about her. Admittedly, he had stopped listening to her about half way through her little rant. Of course he knew about the papers, they had been sitting on the edge of his desk for about a week collecting dust. And how could he forget about them when they stuck out so abnormally, they were clear as day not part of his experiment. But even still, they would have to wait. It wasn’t that important, especially seeing as the investigation led to absolutely nothing and he had far more important things to worry about right now.

Albedo continued to absent-mindedly nod along as the librarian spoke. Sometimes he would chime in with an mhm or a really? Not that Lisa seemed to care he wasn’t really paying attention. A glimpse of a certain uniform seemed to catch his eye though, and as quickly as he had become bored, he had snapped out of it.

Once he registered it was you, Albedo instantly began nodding faster. Dammit, why couldn’t Lisa just stop talking right now? Couldn’t she see he had places to be?

Albedo’s eyes continued to glance back and forth between Lisa’s face and the back of your head, following your movements whenever he could so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd of Knights. He had to fix this, he had to.

“Anyway, Albedo,” Albedo’s eyes snapped back onto Lisa’s at the mention of his name, “Just make sure you get that file to Jean. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” he hurriedly said, “See you tomorrow.”

As Lisa walked away with her goodbyes, Albedo felt his legs move on their own. A string of sorry ‘s and excuse me ‘s fell from his lips as he pushed his way through the corridor and around all of the people. His eyes were locked on you — until they weren’t. Panic set into his bones as he hurriedly glanced around only to not be able to find you.

If only Lisa had just finished talking sooner — no, if only she didn’t talk to him at all. Maybe he could’ve gotten to you, said he was sorry and restored your relationship. Maybe he could’ve held you in his arms tonight like he always does. Maybe he could’ve said he loved you as you fell asleep. And maybe, he could’ve kissed good morning you when you woke up tomorrow. Maybe he could’ve had you back.

Now you were gone and he had to wait even longer. Albedo bit his lip in frustration, hands forming into fists at his sides. A gentle sigh escaped him as he pushed the doors open to the Knight’s headquarters and slipped out silently.

If only he had noticed you standing by the door on his way out.

Apology Attempt #3: Five Days After The Argument

It was March Fourteenth now. The sky was dark and a little overcast, but not enough to cover the stars or the moon. Loud chatter and excited laughter could be heard from outside of Angel’s Share. Albedo stood silently outside of the door, dusting his outfit off. A little gift bag with a few colorful balloons printed on the side of it sat gently in his right hand. It was Jean’s birthday and everyone had been invited to celebrate at Diluc’s bar.

Hesitantly lifting his hand up to the handle, Albedo opened the door. A small smile made its way to his face as he gave a small wave to everyone inside. It would seem he was the last one to arrive.

Before his eyes even had the chance to look for you, Sucrose and Kaeya were in front of him. “Albedo, welcome!” Sucrose had warmly greet him. Kaeya smiled and took the small bag from him and placed it on a table where all the other gifts were. Soon enough, even Timaeus had joined them and walked the group over to the bar where Diluc had been bar tending

“Albedo, good to see you,” Diluc spoke. Albedo nodded and returned his welcoming words. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is fine. Thank you.”

The atmosphere was nice, Albedo noted. It was warm and no one was being overly talkative with him. The food was good and his water was a little too cold for his liking, but he hadn’t minded too much. A breath of air silently left his lips as he fiddled with the cup in his hands. Truthfully, Albedo had no intention of actually showing up tonight. A birthday party wasn’t really his scene, but if there was even the slightest chance he could finally see and talk to you again, he’d take it.

“Looking for Y/n?” Diluc’s voice rung out, interrupting Albedo’s thoughts.

“Oh, uh — yeah. How did you know?”

Diluc smiled knowingly, “You just look a little lost. Everyone knows how much you love them, so it’s a little odd to see you without them. They’re talking to Rosaria over there.”

Albedo’s eyes followed the direction Diluc pointed in, only to see you looking right back at him. You gave him a small, yet, sad smile before averting your eyes and turning back to talk to Rosaria again. Albedo knew it was impolite, but perhaps now was a good time to pull you away. Besides, Rosaria wouldn’t care if he interrupted — at least, he hoped she wouldn’t.

But before Albedo could even get up to talk to you, a small hand had wrapped itself around his own. His eyes snapped down to find Klee smiling at him. “Brother! It’s time to cut the cake and give Master Jean her presents. C’mon, c’mon!”

Klee continued to tug at his hand until he got up. Setting his glass down at the bar, Diluc gave him a pitiful look. At least he was saved from the rest of that conversation, Albedo thought. It was getting far too personal for his liking. Seriously, did everyone in Mondstadt know about your argument?

On his way over to the table, Albedo felt someone watching him. When he glanced up, he found your eyes on him again. Although, this time, an amused smile was on your face as you watched Klee drag him to the table. It was rather comedic, he could at least admit that. If anything, he was just glad to not see you look so saddened by the sight of him — even if he was a little embarrassed.

As soon as the “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, everyone cheered around the table. One by one, Jean opened each and every gift with a smile and a thank you following suite. It was a comfortable little gathering, seriously, it was. But, Albedo couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. His eyes wandered around to everyone at the table. Everyone was radiating with happiness and cheer — even Rosaria, who always looked like she was on the verge of murdering someone.

It didn’t feel right.

The alchemist stared down at his feet. He couldn’t help but think he didn’t deserve to be having a good time right now, not when he was aching over the words he had said to you a few days ago. Until he could apologize to you and make things right again, how was he supposed to live with himself? And even if could find the time to apologize to you tonight, he knew he couldn’t do it anyway.

Although he nearly took his chances earlier, Albedo knew it would bring down the mood of the party — regardless of whether everyone would witness it or not. For the most part, you had looked happy tonight and Albedo didn’t want to ruin that, nor did he want to spoil Jean’s birthday.

Albedo breathed deeply in and out quietly to himself. Normally, in times like these, you would be walking right up to him, realizing he was feeling out of place again and offering to leave with him. It was one of the things he loved most about you; the way you always cared so much for him and still loved him regardless of his struggles with his social life…it never left his gratitude. Albedo stepped back from the group who was still cheering and eagerly watching Jean open her gifts from everyone. She had already opened his gift, so it would make it a lot easier to just slip out unnoticed.

Quietly, he headed toward the door without a word. Not even Klee — who always had a knack for finding him — had noticed his absence. Albedo grabbed his coat and slipped it on quickly before heading toward the door. And for the final time that night, Albedo’s eyes met with yours.

The look in each of your eyes was the same — longing, sad, and yet so full of love. This time it would seem as though it wasn’t the Gods who had gotten in the way of his apology, but rather Albedo himself. His eyes hesistantly, and rather shamefully, pulled themselves away from your own. And with that, he opened the door and left without a word.

Apology Attempt #4: Six Days After The Argument

The day after Jean’s party, Albedo felt even more miserable — if that was even possible. He never slept much anyway, but last night was horrible. Running on practically nothing, he felt awful. Not to mention, all of his social battery had ran out from the party. And all he could think about now was how much he regretted going.

Albedo didn’t mind the cold, but last night his house was unbearably frosty, making his night even worse. Not being able to handle being at home anymore, Albedo made his way to his lab at the Knight’s of Favonius at an ungodly hour. The sun hadn’t even risen and there wasn’t a single person outside except for him by the time he had arrived.

Hours had passed until more people started filing in. Noelle was among the first to arrive, cleaning up and preparing everything for the day. When she had found Albedo, her eyes went wide and she flooded him with questions to make sure he was alright. The young maid had even pointed out the dark circles under his eyes, something Albedo hadn’t even known was possible for him.

Soon, everyone had arrived and the building became a lot louder. Albedo had groaned as his head fell to his arms on his desk. Couldn’t it just be a little more quiet around here? Albedo hadn’t even drank any alcohol last night, yet it practically felt like he had a hangover with the headache he had.

The sound of the door opening and then shutting quickly alerted Albedo as his head shot up to see who walked in. He knew it wasn’t Klee because she always had the ever so annoying habit of slamming the door open. It certainly wasn’t Sucrose because she had been assisting Timaeus today. The flash of a white lab coat and clipboard in hand allowed the air in the back of Albedo’s throat to get stuck.

Shit, he didn’t know you were coming back today.

You hadn’t spoken a word to him as you walked passed. You didn’t even look at him. Though, it wasn’t like Albedo was expecting you to. You had every right to still be mad at him and knew that well enough. Today would be the day he would apologize. he swore it to himself. There was no way he would let a full week pass before he got the chance to apologize to you. Celestia would not get in his way today.

Though it seemed as though it would have to wait. It was too early and Albedo hadn’t even thought of what to say. He’d had his original apology of course, but now it had been days and that surely wouldn’t be enough to explain why he couldn’t utter an I’m sorry to you. He needed something better, something more heartfelt. Albedo had been miserable without you over the past few days and he hadn’t even known he had the capability of feeling that way for someone else until now.

Crash!

Fear washed over Albedo’s body once he heard the sound. He had been so lost in thought that he’d barely noticed it at first. But with only a tiny hallway separating the labs between you, it was inevitable that he’d have heard it eventually. Rushing out of his seat, Albedo had hurried down the hall where he heard you hiss to yourself.

In the room, he’d found glass shattered all over the floor and chemicals pooling together. It had almost looked like the scene at which your argument happened. Albedo’s eyes widened once he saw your hand, which was cut and completely covered in blood. His legs carried him over to you in an instant before he knelt down in front of you.

Albedo’s hands gently cupped themselves around yours. Your blood had even began to drip along his own hands. You knew Albedo had been rather particular about that, always blabbering about the lack of sanitation of it. Yet, it didn’t seemed like he cared much as he continued to hold them. His eyes darted around your lab, urgently looking for a sink and some medical supplies. When he spotted it, he gently placed one arm around yours while the other remained under your cut hand while carefully walking you over to it.

The medical supplies were out in an instant as Albedo began to work on your hand while you sat on the counter. The cut wasn’t too bad, if anything, it was the chemicals that had gotten into it that made it worse. No words were exchanged between the two of you during the time. You were sure it would have been painfully awkward if it wasn’t for the fact that Albedo had been incredibly concentrated on fixing your hand up.

The ticking of the clock wasn’t helping. It was quite literally the only sound in the lab — save for your occasional hisses and winces from the pain. And, soon enough, an entire hour had passed before Albedo had finished cleaning and bandaging your hand. You studied the bright white bandages that adorned your dominant hand as Albedo began cleaning up the various bandages and other supplies.

As soon as he had put the medical kit away, you had hopped off of the counter and stood right in front of him. Albedo hadn’t moved and instead was gazing into your eyes. Throughout all the time you had known him, you had never seen so much emotion mixed deep within them.

Say something.

Anything.

Please.

Albedo’s mouth opened and shut again and again. No words could make their way out, it seemed. Eventually, he just shut it for good and sighed to himself. One step forward and then another and then another. A sad and tired smile graced Albedo’s face as he collapsed against you, pulling you into a warm embrace. As if on instinct, your arms locked around his abdomen and your head rest against his chest.

“I have so much to say. But let me just start with saying, I am so sorry”

“Shhh,” you cooed. An entire week without each other. Miserable as he was, you were unfathomably worse. You could talk for hours later if you wanted, days even. You didn’t care about his formal apology right now, because all you wanted right now, was to be with him. It was clear he wanted the same.

There was nothing stuck between the two of you now. Albedo wasn’t much for believing in the idea of Gods, but he was glad they hadn’t gotten in the way once more. And as he held you tightly in your lab, he knew everything would be alright.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #albedo x gender neutral reader #albedo fluff #albedo angst

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onlygotthisforkillerchatfanfics · 17 days ago

Text

Listening To The Devils Whisper

Guess what………………RONIN X MC AGAIN

Butttt killer mc

Triggers because important (honestly don't know what counts as triggers)

Gore

Blood

Spoilers for Ronin’s lines

Ugh, I can't wrap my head around the thought process of a serial killer. I need to know because the main character in my new book is a serial killer. It’s such a good concept, yet I can’t figure out how they would think. So I keep searching and searching all over the internet. That was until Ronin invited me to a server called SLAUGHTERHOUSE_LOSERS.

I was scared at first but Ronin also gave me everything I ever needed. I got to hear how they felt when they murdered, how they did it, and how the…bodies looked. It was so disgusting yet it captivated me. The blood was such a pretty shade of red. The way they looked drained of life. After a while, I could tell how fresh the bodies were. Everyone in the chat sent them pretty quickly but I needed something fresher. I wanted to feel as their life slipped away all because of me. I wanted to hear them scream…no, I needed to.

Ronin ended up texting me all the time, telling me to give him proof. It scared me what would happen if I didn’t. It had me thinking what I could do to get him off my back. Maybe I should just kill one person. “But no I can’t be thinking like this,” I said this line over and over and over again as I tried to block out the thoughts. Before I know it I'm thinking of killing someone as they scream and beg for mercy on my own time. I imagine the sight of their blood pouring out of the wounds I made.

You know if I really want my book to be authentic I have to go all the way. I’m already in a group chat full of serial killers so why don't I become one? I look down at the messages Ronin sent me on my phone

Goreboy: Will you Carve an Aorta out for me? Cut it Filthy and Breathing Do It Like the Romantics do I haven’t Forgotten your Need to Prove yourself to me Y/n: I’ll do it. Goreboy: damn, that Easy? How cute Have fun with your Murder Don’t forget to Send Pics In the meantime, I'll be marking the Devil’s name in Uptown

I look up smiling. Now wouldn’t this be the best time to start? I walk around town lurking in the alleyways with a knife as I wait for someone to be dumb enough to enter one. I’m shaking from both excitement and fear. What if I get caught? Can I really even kill someone? My thoughts are racing as I begin to doubt myself. No, I have to do this, for the sake of my book and to prove myself to Ronin. Thinking back on this gives me a resolution to see this through.

It doesn't take long before a young lady enters the alleyway. She has her back turned away from me, perfect I reach out stabbing her in the back as I cover her mouth. Her muffled screams are music to my ears. Slowly I twist the knife inside her. Her screams become louder as I see tears fall down onto my hand. “Shhh, as much I love hearing you scream, we can't have you attracting people.” all she does is scream louder “ah, ah, ah that's not good” I take the knife out only to plunge it back into her again and again. I love the pressure against the knife before the skin gives way. Before I know it she goes limp in my arms. “Aww, that's no fun” I need more than just this so, I continue searching again for my next victim. No matter how many I killed it was never enough. I felt like I needed more, like something was missing. I spent hours doing this. I was in a world of my own.

I look down at the body. It looks so beautiful. Their face filled with fear and agony. Ahhh~ I could stare at it forever. My face starts to heat up as I blush at the corpse. Woah I gotta calm down. This is all for my book. Nothing more nothing less…but it's so pretty. I kneel next to the corpse running my finger down their body. I love this feeling. Being the one in control of someone's life is so enchanting. As I turn my head to the side all I see are the other bodies battered, broken, and bruised so perfectly. All because of me.

PING

I jump at the sound of my notification going off. I check my phone and it is a message from Ronin.

Goreboy: let's call I'm bored

Before I can even respond, Ronin is calling me. Fuck what do I do, it's a video call? But I know I have to answer

“Hey Ronin,” I say as I move away from the body making sure it's off screen.

“Darlin~ mind telling me what's on your face” As soon as Ronin says this I freeze and look at the screen. Shit, I have blood on me. Which makes sense. I was killing people. I know he is also a murderer but something about showing him makes me a little nervous. “Well…uhm you told me to prove myself”

“Now don't hide it. Show me everything~” Ronin says chuckling, his grin growing wider. I pan the camera to the side showing the bloody bodies. ”Is this what you wanted?”Ronin's eyes widen as he looks at the screen, his breath catching in his throat at the exquisite sight before him. He leans closer to the screen, drinking in every detail.

“Fuck y/n…this is art, beautifully morbid” Ronin runs a hand through his hair, looking genuinely aroused. His cheeks flushed. “You know I still have one last thing to do. I still need to carve an aorta out for you. How about a front-row seat?” I say becoming more excited at the thought of giving Ronin what he wants. Ronin leans back looking ecstatic. “Well aren't you moving fast~ I'll gladly take you up on that offer though”

“Watch closely” I move towards one of the bodies bringing out the knife again as I plunge it into their chest, blood splattering all over me. Unknowingly my lips contort into that of a smile as I continue. I shove my hand into the depths of their chest, enjoying the warm sensation of their blood and organs. Soon I’m pulling out an aorta just like Ronin wanted. I show it to him, my hand drenched in blood.

Ronin’s face is flushed red as he leans forward, his eyes meet yours through the screen, dark with intensity. “Oh, you’re so pretty when you’re rotten and mine. I think you’re… divine”

Ronin's tone is light, almost playful, but there's an intensity simmering beneath the surface - a hunger to know you, all of you, in the most intimate and unflinching way possible. He's ready to dive into the abyss with you, to see how deep the darkness goes.

#killer chat #fanfic #tw blood #cw: gore

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a-crown-of-ash-if · 4 months ago

Text

Planning for the future of A Crown of Ash and an overall update

First of all, I want to thank everyone for the huge amount of support for the prologue! I honestly never expected to see this many people interested in something I was doing for fun.

I want to start off by saying that I have started to write the first chapter.

I have also decided not to put any full dates for when an update will be released. As I go in and out of being able to predict my availability. I would rather not rush out a product with which I am unhappy or have taken liberties. It's not fair to either side of the party.

I am currently unaware of how long this story will end up being. I have ideas written down on a document, but nothing has a solid order. I work best by letting things flow as they come to my head.

While I have made this clear on the Itch page, I wish to state it here too. This project is going to become more mature in nature as it progresses. There will be blood and gore, profanity, along with mature topics, themes, and the potential of mentioned adult actions. As progress moves along, I will update the intro page with a list of warnings and potential triggers. If things do have their moments of 18+ content, that will be updated too.

Around 48 hours after chapter 1 releases I will reveal the potential love interests, and dig a bit into them as I see fit. I consider it a spoiler for what I'm planning for Chapter 1. So I'd rather wait to post it.

I am still considering adding a fourth romance option, but I am not sure if it will blend in too much with another option that I am 100% sure will be in the game. I will be hosting a poll to gauge interest after the first chapter's release.

I want it to be known that I will always put a story narrative over adding more options for the player to pick. It's not fun when you're just adding something to add it. Some choices are going to be separated to give different bits of lore. I'm building the game this way so that if someone decides to replay it, they can learn different aspects of the story they didn't notice or find before.

The same here goes for that mature content label. Mature topics and themes aren't being added just for the sake of being there. There are other projects like that out there for people who are looking for it. That's not the direction I desire for this story to take.

That being said, I am still learning coding and Twine. I am going to make mistakes, but I am always going to try my best to fix said mistakes that happen. Whether it's a spelling error I missed, something coded incorrectly, or a major bug. Whatever it is, I will try to the best of limited knowledge I currently hold to fix everything that pops up.

Once again thank you all for the support, I will slowly update the blog with progress as I see fit. Monthly updates put too much pressure on me, and I'm going to stray away from that in favor of smaller and more spread out but more content heavy updates.

#interactive fiction #ashes and sand #twine game #writing #if #interactive game #interactive novel #2024

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ashtronomyys · 1 year ago

Text

First Meetings

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Mentions of Injury/Blood, Bit of Angst, Happy Ending

"You remember the first time we met?"

The question breaks Ghost out of the spiral he was falling headfirst into. "Do I what?"

"Remember the first time we met," Gaz repeats. "It was the first day when we were all at the same base. Price and I dropped in an hour early." He swallows harshly around his words. "We figured we'd be the first ones there, gave us plenty of time to get settled in before the rest of the task force showed up."

Ghost scrunches his nose in frustration. "Kyle, is now really the time fo-"

"But we get there, and we find that there you were, dropped off at God knows what hour and waiting at the sidelines for somebody to come and get you. Looking like a lost kid on the first day of school," Gaz glances back over his shoulder and smirks at Ghost. "Not that you'd ever admit that."

Ghost scoffs, reaching behind him to grab more tape to wrap the bandages up with. "That's cause I wasn't lost. Was just waiting on one of the useless lackeys to tell me where my bloody quarters were."

He takes one more glance over the supplies laid out on the table, running through the checklist ingrained in his head before getting to work. Luckily, it seemed like the bullet hadn't hit anything severe, just nipping his right shoulder and passing through the other side.

It still seemed like it took a lot out of the sergeant. Med evac not an option as they were waist deep in hostile territory, all they could do for the time being was wrap him up to slow the bleeding and push on. With them finally in the safe house, all the fight and adrenaline leaving his body left Gaz looking more haggard by the minute.

"You know it's rather funny," Gaz continues, "when the Cap'n told me to keep an open mind when meeting you guys, I figured he was going on about harsh personalities and butting heads. Imagine my surprise when we enter the complex, and he introduces me to a towering lieutenant with a skull for a face."

"What, costume-making not a part of your manual?" Ghost fires back.

Gaz snickers. "No. But then again, none of the other shit we deal with is either now is it," he winces under his breath as Ghost applies pressure to the wound. "I still remember our first actual conversation. It was late at night, I couldn't sleep, first day nerves and all, and I figured a late night jog might tire me out. 'Remember this nagging feeling, like something was watching me from the shadows. I get myself so worked up over it that by the time I'm making my way back around to the barracks and I spot that skull watching me in the dark, I bloody screamed!" Gaz laughs, "the sorriest fuckin' scream, you 'member that?"

Ghost hums along to the story, his majority of his focus on patching up Gaz adequately enough until he can get him proper medical treatment. He should be fine, really. He's seen plenty of soldiers make it out of the battlefield with far, far worse. But he still can't shake the feeling of unease that sits in his stomach, his hands trembling as he wraps the bandage around his shoulder.

Maybe it's because he partially blames himself for Gaz getting hurt. Maybe he should've taken the lead down that alleyway, double-checking their six for the both of them like he should have done. Maybe he made the wrong call, a minor slip up that now resulted in his comrade, the rock that held the 141 together, slowly bleeding out in a rickety chair some miles out from the nearest hospital.

"Ghost? You still with us?"

"Right, yeah. Solid. Continue," Ghost startles.

"I asked you a question, mate! I'll take the lack of response as a 'no' then." Ghost eyes him quizzically, and Gaz clicks his tongue before explaining. "Was asking you if you were ever going to quit smoking, eh? Go full cold turkey?"

Oh great, this again. At least Gaz isn't as hounding on him about the matter as Laswell is. "Same answer as before, if I make it to retirement. Why bring it up now?"

"It's one of the first things we talked over," Gaz shrugs, or rather, tries to shrug. "I asked what on bloody Earth you were doing, stalking around the place like a damn ghoul. You didn't say much, just offered me a cigarette to make up for being a damn creep."

"That's right," Ghost reminisces. "You turned me down. Said that out of everything out here, the last thing that was going to kill you would be a nicotine addiction." He laughs bitterly. The joke hits a little too close to home now with the circumstances they're in.

"Yeah, and you told me you didn't want to share anyway… you really know how to make a first impression, don't you?" Gaz absentmindedly rubs at his shoulder while the bandages are applied to his wound.

It's not perfect, but it should hold him over until exfil can get them outta here. It better, at least. Ghost's eyes trace over the trail of blood leading from the doorway over to the table they're sat at. He notices how his hands shake as he wraps the tape around the bandage, and he has to take a deep, steadying breath. He chastises himself for letting his emotions get the best of him now.

"I'll tell you, I'll never forget my first impression of you that day. Here I thought you might be cold, standoffish, and distant, which you can be," he tosses a smirk back at Ghost. "But that night, after an hour of chatting over the horrid smell of smoke you left, I remember seeing just a little bit of that shell of yours crack… and seeing a little bit of the man you really were sneak out from behind that mask. You remember what we talked about?"

Of course he did. He recalls so clearly how laid bare and afraid he had been that first day. Still remembers the trepidation and fear he felt at having to expose himself, leave himself vulnerable under the snare of a new team.

"You asked me if I could really trust you," Gaz continued. "Big, domineering guy with a fucking face mask and all. And I said yeah, I would. If Price chose you, then knew I could trust you… And that was the first time I saw that wall you built to protect yourself come down for just a second."

Ghost swallows harshly. God, he's fucked up big time. He let one of the few people he loves, one of the few people who truly sees him for who he is, get hurt.

Gaz slowly turns around in the chair to face Ghost now, leaning against the table for support. "I meant it then, and I mean it now Simon. Don't think that this-" he gestures to the wound "-changes anything. I know you've got my back, and I've got yours. On and off field. For life mate."

He bumps Ghost's shoulder with his uninjured arm. "So quit you're bloody sulking, Simon. I'm going to be fine, it barely grazed my shoulder. Sides, I've dealt with far worse," he fixes him with a cheeky grin. "I swear I can still feel the pain in my back some days from that damned helicopter rope."

Ghost has to take a second to look away from that blinding smile on his face. Fuck if those sincere words were actually getting to him a little bit. It was probably just what Ghost needed to hear, though he'd hate to admit. He still felt some responsibility for the situation, but the honesty did help to curb some of the shuddering and self loathing still running through him.

Always the levelheaded one of the group, somehow Gaz always knew the way to ground everyone back to reality.

Ghost turns back to him. "Yeah…you're probably right. That back's going to give out on you years ahead of Price, I'll bet."

Gaz chortles softly, the edges of his eyes wrinkle beautifully. "Oh, I'm sure you'd love to see it. Just dying for your biggest completion on the task force to get knocked down a peg, are you?"

"Course not, if you go down then that'd just leave me with Soap!"

The two men let out their own broken laughs then. Ghost's comes out harshly and Gaz's comes out clipped, sounding exhausted as he winces toward the end.

"Thanks for humoring me with the story, Simon… You did good…." His head starts dipping lower onto the table. "Fucking hell, I'm getting tired.."

"Keep upright, Sergeant," Ghost barks. "Need to see that you make it to evac." As his head dips lower, Ghost harshly slaps at Gaz's cheek.

He jumps back up for a moment in the chair. "S-sorry! Sorry! Fuck, I'm just bloody tired."

"I know. Just keep upright Gaz, you'll get to rest later." Ghost speaks softly, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Gaz, stay upright," he says louder a few minutes later.

"Gaz! That's an order!"

"Kyle!"

……….

"Doctor, he's not going to make it! He's lost so much blood. It's only a matter of time befo-"

"I'm not giving up on him yet, Grace! Richard! Prep trauma! We'll be cutting it close, but if we can stabilize him enough to-"

*Click*

"-ith of the spotted cubs along the ice shelf. He hurriedly hops along the snowy tundra… just behind his brothers and sisters back to their mother."

Yeah, that's much better.

Gaz relaxes back into the hospital bed, throwing the remote to the side and reaching over to dig out the pudding cup Price stashed for him later. He breaks the seal on the plastic cover and digs in while a sea lion cub cuddles into its mother's side for warmth. He sighs into the first chocolaty mouthful. It was the cheap, rubbish kind, but God did it hit the spot after the last couple of days he's had.

It killed him to be stuck here one more night. The clinical tang of hospitals and the unease that hang in the air always put Gaz on edge. There wasn't much he could do while he waited either. There were only so many hours of sleep he could do in the day to pass the time, and his team had all been called away by work today.

The task force visited him when they could, all three being the first thing he saw when he woke up after his procedures. Since then, they've popped in here and there, helping him pass the time by talking or playing cards late into the night.

Well, all of them except Ghost. The lieutenant still hadn't been down since that first day. Not that Gaz held him to it or anything though. He's sure he's been busy with all kinds of tasks and debriefings back at base. And if he really gave it some thought, Gaz had a sneaking suspicion that Ghost still felt some responsibility for what had happened, and was avoiding Gaz because of it.

Bloody drama queen.

He's the reason he's still here in the bloody first place! Ghost had his six the entire way through, kept the hostiles at bay and guided them out of the damn city. That patch up at the safehouse giving him just enough time to make it out until he got help. Hell, he even resuscitated Gaz when he went under for a brief moment.

How one of the top SAS soldiers in the field and one of the deadliest soldiers in the world could be such an oblivious fool is beyond him. Gaz set the empty container on the end table. Well, there's no sense in stressing over it now. He'll just have to pull him to the side when he gets back to base and have a heart-to-heart. Maybe thanking him for keeping him alive will be enough to snap him out of it.

A few more hours of flipping through channels later, and Gaz figures it's about time he try and get some shut-eye. The lights are all dimmed down by now, and only the beeping of machines and the occasional shuffle of a nurse outside are the only sounds left in the hall.

Gaz is just feeling the edges of sleep take over him when suddenly the door to his unit creaks open.

He stifles a groan rising in his throat and opts to definitely keep his back turned away from the door and feign sleep. Who on Earth would be bothering him at this hour?

Several beats of silence pass, and Gaz starts to wonder if he made up the whole thing before the slow creak of the door closing echoes in the room.

His guest stands still for a moment before stepping lightly to one of the chairs in the corner and sitting down directly behind him.

Greaat. He's got a damn serial killer watching over him while he sleeps now. Gaz is halfway through debating if he should act on instinct and call for someone, but then a voice disrupts his thinking.

"I do remember that first day."

Gaz opens his eyes. Ghost?

"You asked if I remembered the first day we met." He hears him shuffle in his seat. "I remember everything about that day."

"I was a Ghost. More so than just the namesake. Deployed wherever they needed me by whoever without a care in the world. And I preferred it that way, no being tied down, no broken promises and false hopes, and definitely no growing close with anyone." Gaz hears him laugh dryly. "Quite the way to live, isn't it?"

Gaz doesn't respond. He weighs his options, letting him continue while Gaz fakes being asleep feels like a bit of an intrusion, but this is also one of the few times Ghost has opened up to him like this. Gaz decides he doesn't want to break the spell.

"So it was no surprise to me when, the heads in charge essentially jumped at the chance to hand me off to some new captain and rid their hands clean of me. That's how I found myself dropped off hours before anyone else, left to sit on the sidelines until my new orders came in… And no, I really wasn't lost. My people didn't bother to send in the right paperwork, so I was left waiting for Price to clear the issue. Bet you feel bad now, you arsehole," Gaz feels Ghost lightly kick the bed-end with his foot.

Okay. Yeah, he did actually feel bad now for that jab earlier.

"I got told the same spiel about 'butting heads' and other crap, but Price gave me a little ribbing as well. He said 'Now Simon, I want you to know these are good people I've chosen to join the task force.'-" Ghost mimics the Captain's gruff voice. "-'I trust these men with my life, including you. Now I won't ask too much of you, but I want you to know that they have my seal of approval, and it is my hope that you can maybe gain learn something from working with this crew.' One thing I learned so far is that the Scottish are shit at making a cup'a tea."

Gaz nearly breaks his composure at that comment, all of his military training coming in clutch to keep from laughing.

"I do remember our first handshake. I still held the belief that I'd be sent off to some shithole somewhere by myself again, so I didn't bother much with formalities. Still though, you and Soap, you guys had every right to be put off by my demeanor those first few days. But you both met me with the warmest eyes regardless, like a couple of sappy dogs you two are."

Well look who's the sappy one over here, waxing poetry over their first few days as a team. Gaz is savoring every second of it though. He knew the man had a caring side to him, and it feels great to be vindicated as Ghost pours his heart out into the dark.

"And how could I forget our first actual conversation?! I'd never forget that squeal you let out when you finally saw me." Ghost chuckles.

Maybe he spoke too soon.

"Okay, but seriously though," Ghost straightens up, "I actually remember our conversation very fondly. I asked you why you were running so late in the middle of the night and you told me how you couldn't sleep. You opened up about all the things eating away at you and all the fears plaguing you, sounded awfully too similar to mine. And I gave you some advice of my own, which you happily accepted… all except the cigarette. Speaking of which, I could really fucking go for right now, but I won't, just this once for you. Hope you're happy."

Gaz accepts the small victory. He'll take them where he gets them.

"But yeah, I still remember all the stories you told me. Your journey and how you got onto the taskforce, what you hoped to find under Price's command, and how you thought you'd found it… I didn't open up much to you that night. Couldn't. But I want you to know that that back and forth with you, was some of the first /real/ banter I'd had with someone in what felt like years."

There's a long pause as Ghost gathers his thoughts. "You know I um- I think after everything that happened to me all those years ago, -well not think, I know- I know that it takes a lot for me to put my faith in other people. To feel confident enough to let that shell a'mine come down. And joining the 141, fucking hell, everything was screaming at me not to. Yelling at me that it would all just happen all over again or that-" Ghost's voice falters. "Joining the 141, it was my first time in a long while in a more permanent team. It was my biggest fear, taking the chance on someone new. I had to spend months relearning how to trust a people again… But you made it easier."

Gaz feels a pang in his chest. He's glad he's turned away from Ghost at this moment, he wouldn't really know what to say. He blinks a slight bit of wetness away from his eyes.

"That night, conversation with you just flowed so easily. I wasn't sure if I was capable of having a heart-to-heart to someone with someone anymore, but we did. And when you answered that you trusted me after all that, I think I realized that maybe I could eventually let my guard down. Fix that broken patch in my psyche and learn to trust people wholeheartedly again."

Gaz is at a loss for words. All he can think of is that it's been an honor to be a part of the remedy that helped Simon Riley come back to the world of the living.

"Anyways, all this to say that maybe you caught on that I was a kicking myself over what transpired. And you're right, it happens all the time with no warning for guys like us, you know, I just- -It still kills me to see you guys, any of you guys injured under my watch."

Gaz feels Ghost's hand, his ungloved hand, pat his side. "You all are good men. Some of the best men I've come to know. You guys took me, me in, of all people, and showed me what trust looked like again. You all deserve to see to the end of this taskforce and to see your... your sappy fucking sunsets on your bloody porch swings while you're old and graying." Oh God, did he hear Ghost just sniffle? "So maybe the other day I worried that that would get taken from you and I got scared. Doesn't matter anyway though, does it? You're here in one piece, and I was worrying my arse off for nothing. It's good to see you healthy again Sergeant, rest easy mate."

Ghost gently bumps his fist on Gaz's side again before turning away. Gaz almost wants to let him walk out of the room, but part of him feels as if he has to say something to the bloke after all of that heartfelt confession. Maybe some of Soap's eccentricities are starting to rub off on him.

"That was beautiful Simon," he says simply.

And yeah, it's a little evil after the speech that was just said, but flipping over and seeing that 'deer caught in the headlights' look on Ghost's face is still priceless.

"Fuuucking Hell, were you listening the whole time you daft bastard?!"

"'Fraid so sir."

"Right, well- -you've heard enough then, haven't you?" Ghost glares at Gaz, somehow it doesn't hold as much weight as it usually does. "Get some rest then, and heal up good. Cause the next time a bullet hits you, I'm letting you bleed out."

Ghost just about stomps to the door, but before he can slam it shut Gaz calls out to him. "Ay Simon!"

That skull mask peaks around the doorway.

"I'm glad you trust us. And I'm glad you're on the force, wouldn't want it without ya."

It's dark, so it's hard to tell, but it seems like the scowl behind the mask softens just the slightest bit.

"You too. Night Kyle."

~~~~~~~~~~

Little drabble I did for the GhostGazWeek happening on Twitter. Prompt was for First Meetings.

#mw #cod mwii #ash writings #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley & kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick & simon ghost riley #GhostGazWeek #GhostGazWeek2023 #GhostGaz

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thlayli-ra · 1 year ago

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I was inspired by a writing prompt on @sinderellanightwolf 's blog and just HAD to write it down. Let me know what you think!

Kissing Request; 42 (Life or Death kisses)

Pairing - Finn Balor/The Shield (Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose)

AU - Police

Rating - Mature (sexual themes)

Contains - M/M, kissing, fondling, hostage situation

Word Count - 2,076 words

The armed men had rushed in around noon taking as many hostages as they could and barricading themselves into a small windowless room. The police had cordoned off the building and surrounding streets but the SWAT teams had been told to hold back for now - there was no clear way inside and they couldn't risk harming the hostages.

And that was where Finn came in. He was considered one of the best hostage crisis negotiators in the state, revered among his peers. Unshakeably cool under pressure with bags of Irish charm, he had faced countless situations like this before and always managed to de-escalate the situation without a single drop of blood spilled.

In fact, the terrorists had asked for him by name.

Having arrived at the scene and been debriefed, Finn pulled on a bulletproof vest, grabbed his headset and made his way under the barrier tape. He was greeted by three officers, all dressed in full riot gear and holding large rifles.

'Agent Balor,' the largest and broadest of the three greeted the Irishman with a firm handshake. 'Officer Reigns. This is Officer Ambrose and Officer Rollins. We'll be your cover out there.'

'Think of us as your personal shield,' Rollins added with a smirk.

'It's comforting to know I have men like you watching my back,' Finn remarked. 'Have they made any demands yet?'

'Nope,' Ambrose shook his head. 'They refuse to talk to anybody but you.'

'Then let's not waste anymore time,' Finn said and walked towards the building, flanked by the three officers. By now, it was rush hour and the area had gathered a large crowd of onlookers watching the proceedings with morbid fascination. Finn ignored their stares and the heat of the mid-summer sun as he turned on his headset.

'Hello? This is Agent Finn Balor, can you hear me?' No response. 'Hello, this is Agent Finn Balor, is there anybody there? Please respond if you can-'

'It's him! It's him!' He heard an excited voice on the other end of his line. 'Is that Agent Balor?'

'Yes, it is.'

'Say something Irish!'

'Ummm, what's the craic?'

A pause. 'Yeah it's definitely him!'

Finn took little notice of the strange behaviour. Gain enough of a reputation in a field such as his and the weirdos inevitably came crawling out of the woodwork. 'Now that we've established it's really me, let's try and work something out, shall we? Some of those people in there have families waiting for them at home. Let's try and get them back in time for supper.'

'Now listen here,' the voice turned aggressive, 'we have our demands and if they're not met, we're gonna open fire and kill every last person here, understand?'

'I understand,' Finn swiped aside any nerves; this was not the time for them.

'Oh, and we have a monitor in here, we're watching the news coverage so we can see you, Agent Balor and everybody else out there with you.'

The hint of a shiver danced up the Irishman's spine. He was glad of the large armed men around him. 'I have no intention of lying or deceiving you. Please, tell me your demands.'

The line went quiet and the sound of muffled voices rustled in the background. The terrorist was conferring with his partner-in-crime. 'Ok, Agent Balor. Our first demand is...' A bead of sweat trickled down Finn's forehead but he paid it no heed as he waited for their response. '...you must go up to that guy beside you and kiss him.'

Finn blinked. 'I... I'm sorry, can you repeat that?'

'Go kiss that guy to your right,' the voice said again, confirming Finn's suspicions. 'Not just a peck either, make it steamy.'

'You... want me to kiss Officer Rollins?' He eyed the officer in question who looked as confused as he did.

'You want us to shoot these people?'

'No, of course I don't, it's just that-?' His eyes met those of Rollins who shouldered his rifle.

'It's life or death here, Agent Balor,' he said, pulling up the visor of his helmet. 'I'll do my duty if you will.'

The Irishman's heart skipped a beat at the dark doe eyes and pretty face staring back at him. There were certainly worse situations he could find himself in 'Ok, fine. I'll do it. Are you watching?'

'Oh yeeeah, we are!'

Finn rolled his eyes as he walked up to Officer Rollins. Put on the spot, the pair awkwardly grasped one another by the shoulders before leaning in. Finn flinched momentarily as Officer Rollins' mouth found his and closed his eyes, the two of them standing rigid with their lips flattened against the others.

'Come on Agent Balor,' the voice in his ear chastised, 'this aint some high school church dance. Use a little tongue.'

Rollins was the first to comply and opened his mouth, his hot breath steaming Finn's skin, masterfully engulfing the Irishman's full lips. The grip on his shoulders tightened and Rollins turned his face, deepening the passionate kiss even more. Finn was left stunned when Rollins' tongue slipped between his lips, the soft caress enough to draw a needy groan from his throat.

'You're obviously enjoying yourself Agent Balor,' the voice teased. 'He must be a very good kisser.'

Finn couldn't deny it; Officer Rollins was a master at his craft. Sensual, sweet and attentive. He could do this for an eternity, locked in his embrace. By the time the officer released the Irishman, his pale skin had turned a deep pink.

It took him a while to find his voice. 'Is... was that enough for you?'

'That was perfection,' the voice on the other end of the line purred.

'Big guy,' another voice sounded, obviously his partner-in-crime. 'Do the big guy next.'

'No, leave him till last. Do the other one first,'

'Yeah, the guy with the really slim waist.'

'So, now you want me to kiss Officer Ambrose?' Finn confirmed, his voice still breathy from his encounter with Rollins.

'Yeah, yeah. Do it.' Ambrose was already making his way towards him, leaving Finn little time to think. 'Wait, take off his helmet, we wanna see his face.'

'Go on,' Ambrose prompted and Finn slipped the black helmet and visor from the man's head. A tangle of sandy blonde curls tumbled loose from his crown, which he flicked back with a jerk of his head and fixed the Irishman with two simmering blue eyes. Finn barely had time to process how gorgeous the officer was before his face was grabbed by two gloved hands and Ambrose shoved his lips onto his.

Compared to Rollins, Ambrose was sloppy and animalistic, all teeth and spittle as he nipped the Irishman's lips over and over. The grip on his face was strong and unyielding, rugged fingers curling into Finn's beard and gripping it tightly so that he could not pull away. Not that he wanted to! As different as Rollins' and Ambrose's styles were, they were as equally addictive. While Rollins' sensuality stole Finn's breath away, Ambrose's roughness kicked up his heart until it pounded against his rib cage, adrenaline flooding his senses.

Biting down one last time, the nip enough to draw a small bead of blood, Ambrose let go with another jerk of his head, shooting the Irishman a lopsided smirk. Smug bastard! Finn stumbled on wobbly legs, resisting the urge to wipe the dampness from his chin.

'Having fun, Agent Balor?' the voice was cackling now, mocking the once cool, composed negotiator. 'We certainly are.'

'Let me guess, you have one more demand?' Finn asked aloud, looking over his shoulder to spy the largest of the three men. 'You want me to kiss Officer Reigns next?'

'You are so clever, Agent Balor,' the voice cheered.

'And if I do this, you will let the hostages go?' Finn pressed.

'Yes, every one, and we will put down our weapons and turn ourselves in.'

'Then I'd best do it, hadn't I?'

Without being instructed, Finn lifted the helmet from Officer Reigns' head, finding to his delight another handsome face, with tanned skin and a strong jaw. His lips looked as delicious as fruit freshly plucked from the bough and Finn wasted no time in capturing them. The larger man parted his lips to let Finn in, wrapping his arms around the Irishman and grasping him firmly.

'Grab his ass!' the voice commanded and before Finn could ask who the order was directed at, Reigns' hands moved to his backside and cupped both pert cheeks in his giant palms. Finn pulled his head back and gasped when large, strong fingers began to knead the tautly muscled flesh, in return hearing something like a tiger's growl rumbling in the pit of the larger man's throat.

Reigns pounced, taking possession of the Irishman's lips once more, sucking them into his warm mouth while his tongue explored them further. Reigns clearly enjoyed being in charge and Finn happily gave his body over to the officer, succumbing to the larger man's raw domination. One hand fell away from his backside to grab a fistful of his short, dark hair, tugging until the Irishman hissed. Reigns had done this before and knew exactly what he was doing - the force on his hair perfectly weighted between pain and rapture. Finn whimpered like an excited puppy.

'Oh Agent Balor, the noises you're making,' the voice whined down his ear. 'You're making us very jealous. We left you the best for last, didn't we?'

Finn couldn't answer; his mouth now belonged to Reigns. He could barely even reciprocate but the officer didn't care. Between the hand in his hair, the hand on his ass and the tongue in his mouth, Reigns was getting enough from the Irishman to satiate his desires.

When he finally pulled away, Finn felt dizzy, as if he'd just been through an out-of-body experience and had abruptly returned to his senses. He swiped a hand through his sweaty hair, reality jarring back into focus when the butt of his palm hit his headset.

'Is that it?' he said, remembering the job at hand. 'Did I meet your demands?'

'Ohhh, that and more, Agent Balor,' the voice sang. 'Look towards the door.'

Finn turned around and was hit with a wave of relief when the double doors to the building opened and a crowd of wide-eyed hostages fled to freedom. At last, the SWAT team rushed inside while the police force attended to the survivors. The line in his ear went dead, replaced by loud static. Removing his headset, he was suddenly hit with the full force of his condition. He was breathless and lightheaded, his lips bruised and his chin dripping. Glancing around at the mass of faces watching him in an almost voyeuristic fashion, he felt as if he was naked. He absentmindedly popped up the collar of his leather jacket in a feeble attempt to hide from their gazes.

'Good job, Agent Balor,' it was Reigns who spoke, Rollins and Ambrose falling in line behind him. They didn't seem fazed by their strange day in the slightest. 'The terrorists have been arrested and not a single hostage hurt. I'd call that a success.'

'Aye, sure,' Finn hushed out through trembling lips.

'Here,' Reigns held out his hand, a card between his two fingers. 'Call any time, if you need mine or...' he glanced back over his shoulder with a sly grin, '..all of our services again.'

'Thanks,' Finn said, taking the card. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

The three men left and Finn stood alone, staring down at the card when he heard his name being called. Turning around, he saw two men in handcuffs being shoved into a police van. 'Thank you, Agent Balor! Until next time!'

'WE LOVE YOU!' the other one hollered before he was wrestled into the van.

Finn shook his head in disbelief. What a day! Now, he'd head back to his office and write up the paperwork. Then it was straight home for a shower (a cold one, preferably) and a beer (even colder). Before walking away, however, he looked down at the card Reigns had given him, rubbing his tattooed hand over his slick chin. He'd be sure to keep this little treasure safe - he had a feeling he'd be needing the boys before long.

Maybe for a personal assignment next time!

#writing prompts #my fanfictions #wrestling fanfiction #wwe #finn balor #roman reigns #seth rollins #dean ambrose #jon moxley #the shield #tw hostage situation #kissing prompts #Thlayli-WrITES #wwe fan fiction

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feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years ago

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blood & chocolate

chapter ten: cherry ice cream smile

Alex led me out of the room and into the narrow hallway outside of there. Breathing hard, he stopped for a second right outside of the doorway, and he clutched his hands to his belly. He closed his eyes and parted his lips a bit to let out a soft whistle: thin wisps of his black hair sprawled over his shoulders and down onto his chest like the tentacles of an octopus; the sliver of gray rose over his forehead like a little plume of smoke from the kitchen. He curled up his lip as if something ached at him from within.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed at me in a near whisper and with a little swat of his free hand at me.

“Are you okay?” I asked him again, that time in an actual whisper.

“I think so. I'm just—you know, so full is all.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall: I watched him slide down to the floor beneath him all the while. He let out a low whistle, but he never seemed to be in any kind of pain at all. It was then that I licked my lips and bent over right next to him, and I lingered my face up close to his. He breathed hard from the feeling inside of him, and I knew what he wanted: he never even had to say it out loud to me for me to figure it out.

I squinted my eyes at the side of his head, and I kept my attention fixed on the aquiline shape of his nose all the while. A perfect side profile, and one accentuated by the gray streak on the side closest to me. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch it, but first, I had to break the ice with him and give him what he wanted among everything else.

“Would you like your belly rubbed?” I offered him.

“Please,” he said almost immediately.

He sank down in the spot on the floor all the way, so it looked as though he was about to lay flat on his back. The look of euphoria in his eye combined with the slight twist of pain on his face made me hold back a bit. There was a part of me that wanted to forget the whole thing and drive him back home for the night, especially since we weren’t technically all alone in that building, but he wanted it, however. I had to give the devil to which he was due, and I just so happened to make a deal with the devil himself.

In fact, the more that I kept my attention on him, the more I wondered if Alex was indeed a devil in some past incarnation of life: he had the minute gray streak and the steely blue eyes, as well as the striking appearance and the mellifluous, warm voice. He looked as though he could be a demon in disguise, ready to take on the world, especially with me as his slave to massage him back to form and comfort.

I rubbed my hands together, and I wished I had brought a small bottle of lotion with me because the skin on my palms felt a bit rough. Nevertheless, I was in deep at that point.

I leaned in closer to his face and his body, and it was right then I felt the same thing, the same plume of desire that I had felt from before we had eaten, and he and I were all over one another. It hit me like a little rush of blood to my head before it fell down my spine like a zipper to the base of my spine. The pressure was building almost instantaneously, and I had to act.

“I can’t wait until you have a little fat belly going,” I whispered right into his ear.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he teased me as he pressed his hands to the spots on the floor on either side of his hips.

“I would, yeah,” I confessed to him with a little smirk on my face. “You would look so cute with a little pot.”

“For a second there, I thought you were inferring to actual pot.” I snickered at that as I lifted the hem of his shirt and revealed his little belly: his skin looked so smooth and silken, as if he had cleaned it the few hours before.

“I wish we had some actual pot, now that I think about it,” I told him as I knelt next to him and rubbed my hands together once again.

“Why?” he asked me coyly, complete with a little squint of his eyes and a slight raise of his eyebrow at me.

“Because of the whole thing with—you know, the munchies.”

“Oh, I see.” He snickered at that, and I made out the slight glimmer in his eye, as if he was plotting of something right then and there.

“You never know when a little Mary Jane gets into your next brownie or something,” I told him in a singsong voice.

“In my next brownie?” he chuckled. “No, no, no, no—I'm doing the full experience. A little joint in my mouth and a little Twinkie in my hand.”

I had to stop myself from bursting out into a fit of laughter at that.

Careful not to upset his stomach, I ran my fingertips down his skin, down into his belly button and around his waist for a gentle feeling of his flesh. He was warm and tender, as if eating all that food had tenderized him without a singular cause or reason of any sort. Though he only had those few extra pounds on his waist, I gently pressed my fingers into his flesh, and I tried to knead it as if I was kneading dough for a pizza.

A couple of joints, a Twinkie, and a pizza, all for this boy’s little belly.

I ran my fingers around in a tight little circle around his belly button. He seemed to shudder and shake from the feeling. I showed him the tip of my tongue as a result: he liked that. I had a feeling that he would have to admit these things to me at some point, even though I was more than willing to figure it out just by a mere glimpse at his face as well as the way in which his body quivered and moved about on the floor before me.

Silence fell all around us as I moved my fingers over towards his hip for a gentle caress and a small weave of circles by that beautiful hipbone of his: he really had gorgeous hips, in all their slightly full, shapely beauty to act as the centerpiece of his body. I lowered my gaze down to his sinewy thighs: I knew that when he started to gain weight, his thighs would fill out a bit more and they would look so lovely as they gave his body all the better shape in junction with his hips. I pictured myself lying right behind him in bed, with my arms around his waist, and then at some point, during the night, I would run my hands down onto his hips and then onto his thighs for a soft caress and maybe a squeeze of two.

I moved my fingertips over to the spot of skin underneath his belly button for an extra soft caress. He never moved a muscle as I brought my fingers to the top of his jeans. I was that close, that close to giving him a handjob if he so wished.

If anything, I considered it. I considered giving him a handjob down the line if and when we found a moment alone, be it at my place or his place, and Lou was away with Angie or in the next room with Chuck and Greg.

I ran my index finger back up to his belly button for a gentle stroke around the rim: I knew he liked that. If I could feel myself firming up at the simple caress of my finger on his belly button, then there was something to be made from it. Indeed, I happened to look down again to his thighs, and I noticed the crotch of his jeans seemed a bit tighter than before. I was doing something right.

A part of me wanted to say, “fuck it”, and give him the handjob right then and there, but I had no idea if he even wanted it in the first place, especially since we were not alone in that building. In fact, as far as I knew, Chuck or Greg could walk in there at any given second, and neither of us would be prepared, and—

“Eric,” he started in a low, husky voice, one that made me think of smooth fresh honey straight out of the honeycombs in the apiary.

“Hm?” I kept my head down so I could continually focus on giving his belly a nice soothing massage.

“What’s black and white and has a cherry on top?” he asked me.

“An ice cream sundae?”

He licked his lips, and then I brought my gaze up from his belly to his face. Those deep eyes, in all their intensity, softened up as the ocean would following a massive rainstorm the size of the state of California. He parted his little pink lips at me, as smooth and lush as ripe little cherries straight off the tree branch, and ready for my taking. And then I realized he was referring to himself.

“A cherry on top?” I echoed him, and he closed his eyes, and he lifted himself up onto his elbows. His tousled hair dangled over his shoulders back onto the floor, and even more so as he tilted his head back and showed me his neck. I kept my hand hovered over his waist, all so I could let him breathe and relax from the feeling.

“I want you to give me the cherry on top,” he pleaded, his voice still down in that near whisper. I had never heard his voice that husky before, not even the first time when he was in the apartment with me and Lou, and he was doing it for himself. He then slowly raised his head at me, complete with drooping eyelids as if the whole thing was making him so sleepy. “I also didn’t tell you to stop, either. I will give you a full decade to stop that feeling.”

“Part of me wants to open your pants,” I confessed to him.

“Do it,” he said.

“You want me to?”

“Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. I need it, Eric. Please—touch me and touch me some more. Make me bleed. I want to feel everything, every last little thing that I cannot feel alone.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, and I returned to the waist of his jeans once again, that time to act on my own fantasy of giving it to him. I was amazed by how close I was to the space between his thighs on those first little caresses, especially as I opened his jeans and tugged them down his legs a bit to give him space. I then peeled back his underwear, and I proceeded to rub his belly some more before I brought my fingers down to that sweet spot.

My fingertips in his belly button again, and then I stroked them down his soft skin, all the way to the top of his shaft. His skin was extra soft and smooth there, especially when I reached the tip, and I stuck my finger into the hole. That made him gasp and snicker at the sensation: his stomach was full, but it didn’t seem to faze him in the least. I then held onto his shaft with two fingers and gave him a stroke with the pad of my thumb to get him moving some more.

I thought of kissing his belly and then doing the same thing but with my mouth instead as I brought in my left hand to keep up that little massage. He never moved a muscle as I moved my right hand down his shaft, towards the head for a little tickling to make him come.

At some point, I knew we were going to have to do it doggy style, but this wasn’t really the best place for it. If anything, I was more than happy to hum along and feel him and make him feel at home while he lay on the floor right next to the door and with only six feet of a buffer zone between us and Chuck and Greg. I did, however, feel his flesh firm up some more, right inside of my hand as if it was made all for my touches. He treated me to a soft moan followed by a low whistle, and it was then I caught sight of that clear pearl of liquid at the tip.

I stuck out my tongue as I could feel myself firming up as well: one of us had to come first, if not me, then him. I brought my right index and middle fingers down closer to his body to feel his nuts: given he was still very much a boy, I saw that they had not descended all the way, but I knew that skin was so sensitive, just from my own exploration. Descended all the way or not, he gasped from the sensation.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” I whispered to him, and he pinched his eyes shut and parted his lips all the way from the feeling. I moved my fingers back to the tip, and at the same time, I brought my left hand back to his belly button for a few more circles.

He let out a soft moan that sounded like it came from somewhere, and he spilled a little bit of cum on his jeans. He choked out and gasped, and then he hoisted himself back up onto his elbows to better see himself. Meanwhile, I had to stop simply because my jeans were tightening way too much right then; I undid the button, and I knew I had to do something to relieve myself because I was going to make a mess myself.

“Shit,” he muttered, and I stripped off my jeans, and I let ‘er rip right onto the floor next to his legs.

“That was close,” I said.

“Wow.” He let out a low whistle and ran his fingers through his black hair once again. “That was just—wow.” He could scarcely speak at all.

I knew there were tissues around there somewhere, and I knew that the bathroom was also right down the hallway in front of us: the two of us could walk on up there and clean off willy-nilly no questions asked, but then again, we would have to do it with our sloppy dicks hanging out in the open. Then again, I had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to either of us.

I turned my head to him again.

“Need some help?” I offered him.

“Nah. Besides, you’ve got your hands full yourself.” Alex grunted as he rolled over onto his side and raised himself up into a push-up position for a second. I watched him climb to his feet before I rose up myself. I held onto my dick as we walked along the hallway to the bathroom for a cleaning: lucky for the both of us, no one was in there.

“So... you’re Jewish, and I’m Mexican,” I said as I wiped myself down.

“Yeah. My family’s non-traditional, but—you know. Shiksa is a real thing, mark my words.”

“Shiksa?” I knitted my eyebrows at that.

“Let’s just say I like people who don’t remind me of my parents,” he told me as he washed his hands.

“It’s funny—I do, too,” I told him, and I raised my gaze back over to him and those parted cherry lips in the mirror next to me. He was different in comparison to what I knew.

“Do you know what the phrase ‘blood and chocolate’ means?” he asked me.

“It’s wanting something that goes against what your family believes in?” I followed along as I tossed the tissue in the garbage can by the door: I hadn’t leaked onto my jeans at all and thus, I zipped up all the way and cleaned off myself.

“Exactly. I'm the blood and you’re the chocolate.”

“Why do you get to be the blood?” I scoffed.

“Because I wanted you to make me bleed,” he pointed out, and he rested his hands on either side of the wash basin. “And your eyes remind me of dark chocolate, too.”

“You’re black and white with the cherry on top, though, Alex,” I insisted as I scrubbed that soft-smelling soap along my palms for a few extra seconds prior to rinsing off. “That’s an ice cream sundae.”

“An ice cream sundae like—this right here?” He raised the hem of his shirt to show me his little belly, to which I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a way off before you’re an ice cream sundae, Alex,” I assured him. “If anything, I’m the ice cream sundae, what with my pale face and the dark hair.”

“You don’t have a cherry on top, though,” he pointed out.

“Nope, but I could,” I said as I tugged a paper towel out of the dispenser to the left of me before we walked on out of there.

“I think all five of us could, actually,” he said, and even now, I still have difficulty understanding what he meant by that, especially since he was the one with the cherry lips.

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sarcasticdolphin · 2 years ago

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“Come to me” Oath verse.

Not entirely consistent with “Oath,” but I like it better this way as opposed to smut. If I ever end up writing a full fic in this verse I will reconcile the contractions.

Sleeping in Tod’s bed is infuriating. Rudolf lays on the edge of the bed, nervously eyeing Tod across the breadth of the dark silken sheets. Without fail, he falls into sleep alone, Tod far away, across the bed. Without fail, he wakes in Tod’s arms. Sometimes with his head pillowed on Tod’s thigh, a faint scratching of Tod’s pen belying the fact that the other was already working. Other times with his head tucked into Tod’s chest, the other’s eyes half-lidded, barely awake. One time he wakes before Tod, his head on the other’s shoulder. He looks serene as he sleeps, an ageless beauty etched on his features.

Rudolf fights it for a month. He’s never slept with another before. It feels odd. He remembers cold lonely beds from his childhood. Tod’s is warm - and not just physically. Rudolf dreams more deeply than ever before. Histories dance before his eyes. His father and Taaffe in front of the mirror, blood staining their hands, the floor, and the mirror itself. Tod, as far as he can tell, never answers. He sees little of the future - only smoking hints of what might be.

Tod keeps him busy in the waking hours. Rudolf’s training as crown prince gets put to good use. He may not be able to run a kingdom himself, but Tod makes use of him with ease - the perfect little assistant. The mirror in its alcove vibrates occasionally, but Tod never so much as looks up.

Two months after he throws himself at Tod’s feet, he contemplates doing so again. His work is done, and he waits patiently for Tod to finish with the last of the ledgers. He does in good time, closing the book and letting a deep breath out, his head tipping back. Rudolf quietly made his way behind Tod’s chair before tentatively letting his hands rest on Tod’s shoulders.

“You said I should come to you.” He blurts out.

Tod’s hands take his own. “So I did.” He presses kisses to each of Rudolf’s palms.

Tod guides Rudolf to the bed, slowly loosening both of their shirts - Tod had in the end gotten some pants that were properly tailored to Rudolf, but the prince was still in Tod’s shirts.

Tod sat against the headboard, pulling Rudolf into his lap and evaluating him, his eyes boring deep into Rudolf as his hands went to lay on Rudolf’s hips.

Rudolf let his own hands trace the planes of Tod’s bare chest. “I-” Tod’s finger comes up to silence Rudolf.

“My prince.” He pulls Rudolf in, touching their foreheads. Thoughts and feelings flow freely through their bond. Rudolf can feel Tod’s possessiveness, his power - oceanic, deep, and utterly awe-inspiring, and his desire. He wanted Rudolf so very much. “My sweet prince.”

Rudolf leans forward and kisses Tod, the barest of touches of lips, a ghost, practically.

Their minds come closer and closer, until Rudolf care hardly tell the difference. He is a part of Tod’s vast ocean.

Tod kisses him, and Rudolf is gone. Tod takes his mind and his soul. Perhaps he takes his body as well. It’s not like it matters.

Rudolf comes back to himself much later, his head on Tod’s thigh. “Tod.” he purrs.

Tod’s hand in his hair stills before he tugs on Rudolf’s hair, pulling the prince into his lap. He kisses Rudolf’s cheek. “My prince. How are you?”

Rudolf nuzzles into Tod’s neck. “That was....” He can’t find the words. “Indescribable.”

He can feel Tod’s laughter reverberate through both of them.

There is a hum and a sudden tug in the air. Rudolf clings tight to Tod. “What?” He groans. It is painful, a pressure at his head.

The oath that is their bond holds firm, but Rudolf feels nauseous, yanking himself from Tod’s arms and running to the washroom.

Tod follows, soothingly rubbing Rudolf’s back as he dry-heaves, Tod’s wrath and the oath whirled around them, white-hot.

Tod leads him back to bed and holds him close. “I think it might be time I answered your father, my prince.”

#my fic #oath au #todolf

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ozma914 · 3 months ago

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Medicine Mishap Makes Mischief

Note: This was written before our dog Beowulf passed away last July.

Most people over the age of fifty can testify that growing old sucks. I mean, older. Growing older sucks.

One of the things that sucks is medication. Now, a person can avoid going on a lot of medicine by staying fit, eating right, exercising, meditation, yoga ... you know, all that stuff you didn't want to do, even before you could predict the weather with your knees.

Of all those things, the only one I came close to doing regularly was exercise, if by exercise you mean walking. I always loved to take hikes, and walks, the main difference being how far from civilization you are. I was going to say you could define hiking as walking on very uneven ground, but I've been on some sidewalks that made me think I was returning the One True Ring to Mount Doom.

(Why would someone name a mountain Doom, anyway? Is that where they met their future ex?)

You can see some neat things on hikes, though.

The walking by itself wasn't very helpful. First I had to take medicine for my cholesterol, which is a reaction to the human desire to intake things that are bad for you. Apparently there's a thin line between cream-filled donuts and ingesting high-test gasoline. My drug of choice is chocolate, which is the cocaine of foods. I never tried sniffing it through a straw, though.

Maybe next vacation.

Then they put me on a stress pill because of my job, which I couldn't quit because I had to pay for the stress pill.

Then, I discovered I had high blood pressure--while waiting to have a colonoscopy.

Well, duh. Of course I did--a whole room full of people were about to send a sewer router into a place where stuff's only suppose to come out. Just the same, I ended up on a pill to keep my blood pressure numbers below the height of the Empire State building. (In meters. Look it up, I'm not your accountant.)

Then my prostate blew up like a Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon.

Eventually an entire shelf in the medicine cabinet was filled with drugs, and not one of them a fun drug. This doesn't include pain relievers ... we have another shelf for them. It seemed a good time for some kind of organization. Luckily, like many men who own homes, I had several stacks of empty cardboard boxes laying around.

No, I don't know why, but apparently it's a thing.

So I liberated a small cardboard box and put it on my desk, where I could spend half an hour every morning taking my meds without disturbing my wife. Well, she's disturbed by all the empty boxes, but never mind.

At about the same time, our dog fell over. Then he continued to fall over. He had developed a nerve related condition called ... well, I can't pronounce it, but we had to rush him to the doggie hospital. He got better, or possibly I got lopsided and he only looked straight. The vet also prescribed Beowulf medication for joint pain because--well, we grew old together, and it was his time. Emily left his bottle of meds where she could easily find it.

On my desk.

"Since you started feeding me those strange hot dogs I've been seeing ... strange things."

When I get home from work I race around in a half-unconscious state, trying to get all my 6 a.m. stuff done so I can go to bed and pretend it's night. (See above about stressful jobs.) The meds are an important thing, of course, although unlike Beowulf I don't get mine inside a hot dog. Lucky dog. I mean the dog, not the dog. The meat one. The other meat one. Never mind.

Trying to do three or four things at once, I got one of his pills, filled a cup with water for my pills, walked into the kitchen for a hot dog, then back to the desk where I discovered, of course, that I had swallowed the dog's pill.

The dog's pill is a narcotic.

Now, I should have done what Emily later said I should have done: Called the vet. "Hi, I took our dog's medication ... well, yes, I am a dumbass, but that's not why I called."

But I didn't want a bunch of people laughing at my dumbassery. At least, not until I could get a blog out of it.

Instead, I stayed up to gauge what kind of reaction it had on me. Let me assure you--it did have a reaction. It was, in fact, the same reaction I used to have to drinking alcohol, and illustrates the reason why I don't bother with illegal drugs.

I felt weird. I got drowsy. Then I fell asleep. Then I slept for a long, long time.

"So, listen ... since you got to try mine, do I get to try yours?"

It's the same thing that happens when I take melatonin, and that's perfectly legal. It just happened faster, and I didn't have the nightmares. I get half my best stories from nightmares.

So, now I can say I know how the dog feels, except that I can't lick my private parts--and my back is too stiff for that, anyway. Maybe, someday, some doctor will put me on a pill like that for some age-related discomfort I haven't even though of yet. If that happens, hey--the side effects from the other pills will no longer bother me.

I'll sleep through them.

Another note: Ironically, my doctor did, indeed, respond to my increasing chronic pain by putting me on the exact same med Beowulf was on.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

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Remember: Reading is medicine for the soul.

#humor #dogs #pets #dog #medical humor #medical #medication #humorous #humour #funny #drugs #medicine

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theirnamewaslove · 7 months ago

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YOU CANT COME IN THE ROOM!

The Room I moved my whole life into

Where My Mascara Still lied untouched for 5 weeks

My Panties still in the Corner of the Basket

All of my Clothes and My things here

I made a Honeycombed Home out of His apartment

And in still it was not somewhere I could call home, nor was any place I could call Home.

A life to the Family Shelter system is what I endured. While he ate and drank in the Home I decorated for US, as always he got what he wanted out of me and

....

I stood on business &

Told him he was responsible for this life too even if I was losing it but tbh He thought I deserved it .

He held me Responsible

Responsible for who I held. Responsible to Help take care of me like he used to when I was sick with a cold. We needed Responsible.

But the first 5 letters of that is Response Minus the E.

And Thats what his responses ran on

...E ...

Like the First and Last Letters of his name

Fucking

Empty

..........................

He wanted to do nothin but fall asleep while im speaking to him

like Im nothing,

.....

slammed the door in my face

& fell somber Asleep like those who are used to Chaos & become the ones who inflicts it. They Sleep The Best at Night.

.......

After he let me miscarry by myself, said he wanted to be there for me over the phone

and when It was time

He dreamt of Better things he could be doing with his time than to hear me suffer

and when he woke there was nothing more that he enjoyed than to see it

Day 3 I continued to lose any blood I could possibly have left but there was just

more ..

But Baby, Did you have time to go so soon?

Could I tell you I love you While I feel You form Once more?

Can My Stomach stay full & Round for one more day? Just for one more hour?

And we can play house and pretend?

But this is what got us into this mess in the first place....

*Why Does Everyone have to Leave?*

*Why?*

Please. Stay. But if you have to go. Please.

Dont

I never wanted you to leave.

I know I said I did once & I swallowed my Tongue as I did.

Love,

I didnt mean it that way.....:

I just wanted Safe

I just wanted to save you from him.

My heart raced at the thought of him using you to get to me

How he'd take you away to himself So that he could hurt me

But

Just know

You were never A Pawn in this mess

....

But... (hate to say)

your Donor would have treated you as one

Sometime until you were old enough to speak for yourself like Your Big Brother not even the

I Still I feel I have failed your brothers first years

Your Dad Grew up in the Foster System & Knew it like the back of his handcuffs... but I ended up in some Trying to protect your Brother

How the Fuck Does that Happen

Lying to the court under Oath

Thats how

I belive the word is Stupid,

for believing I could Believe in Him

Maybe I shouldve kept my mouth shut

"Do the right thing!"

Rang in my head. And from Pressured family members.

But the hairs stood up on my arms before I told you and I contemplated if it was a mistake to

"Do the right thing"

The Generic "Right thing" isnt right for everyone (something I wish I wouldve told my younger self)

But Only God Knows

And His Love is a mighty one

But like Old habits they die hard

& the only kind of "love" your "Father" knows

Is A. Toxic one

.....

He Looks at me with a smile on his face

Do .you .need. A. Hug?

No love behind his Eyes

No Comfort in his Smile

Just.. Humorless Sarcasm.

Like a Lion waiting for its Prey

His Once beautiful smile turned Grim in full Effect

Like he'd waiting for a moment to comfort me and take it away

Like a Candy

From

....

Do. You. Need. A. Hug ?

What I wanted to say was yes. But what l actually said was, no I need a fuck.

And he stopped in his tracks

His Smile fell still

Expression Went Blank

He didnt expect a quick response like that.

........

.....

**and not from you**

He stood Silent & His Breathe Stopped Short

Yeah, I said I could lay A fuck to someone else bc thats the only thing that couldve made him feel even a decimal Of how He made US Feel ...

But it wasnt True

didnt

have

any

fucks

to give anymore

0 notes

muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

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Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

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