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joelslastofus · 9 months ago

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[SUMMARY: Joel becomes protective of his alcoholic neighbors daughter. ]

“I am very protective of those I care for” his words lingered in the air as his eyes found yours..

PART TWO of my last story

smut TW: abuse

It had been a week since you spent the night at Joel’s house. He found himself looking out his window more often yet he hadn’t seen much of you since. Your dad continued drinking as usual but somehow you managed to avoid anything escalating.

That evening you got home and saw Joel in his driveway half way under his truck fixing something. The sight of his long legs resting on the ground caught your eye.

“Joel?” He quickly rolled out from underneath and sat up.

“How ya doin’, darlin, everything alright?”

“Yes everything’s fine, I just wanted to give you this.” You handed him a small container of cookies you made.

“Just a thank you from me, Sarah told me a while back you and her loved home made chocolate chip cookies”

“Thank you, sugar. That’s nice of ya, let’s hope she don’t finish it all in one night” he squinted from the sun with a smile.

“Oh and this is yours” you returned his t shirt and sweats in a bag.

“You could’ve kept it, I think it looked better on ya anyway” he smirked, his words making you blush.

Joel Miller was flirting with you and you had no damn clue how to respond. His flirting making you think of the way he was looking at you that night, remembering how he almost kissed you until the sound of your dad’s voice distracted you both in that moment.

“Hey! Did you get what I asked for already?” Joel’s expression quickly turning serious at the sight of your father one foot out of the front door.

“Yes, I got it. I’ll be right there!” You assured him before he realized you were beside Joel.

“Oh hi Miller,” he waved at him as Joel did a rather serious nod.

“Mick”

“I better go” you whispered as you turned away, your father walking back inside.

“Remember you call me if you anything, I’m right here” Joel called out to you before you stepped inside.

“Thank you, Joel” you smiled before closing the door behind you. Joel silently watched you enter your house, he didn’t trust your alcoholic father being alone with you, but there wasn’t much more he could do in that moment.

Walking into your house you caught yourself still smiling to yourself, you remembered laying on his couch with him. You remembered the way he looked at you…the thought of him almost kissing you… Neither of you had spoken of it, but both of you were thinking of it more than each other knew.

Sarah ran out of the house excitedly, distracting him asking if she could once again sleep over her best friends house.

“Come on dad, I’ve been keeping my grades up and doing my chores” Joel smirked knowing his daughter was right.

“How could I argue with that?” he chuckled.

“I’ll drop you off in an hour” Joel resumed working on his truck while Sarah ran inside and called her friend.

A couple hours later Joel had returned to see a car pulling up in front of your house. Sitting in his driveway he watched through his rear view mirror two men practically stumbling out of the car and another with a six pack of beer in hand. These men must’ve been those friends of your fathers you had spoken of last time. Taking it upon himself he decided to call your cell.

“Hey Joel,” you sat at your desk surprised he was even calling you.

“Hey, sorry to call late I just pulled up in front of my house and saw-“

“Oh god not again” you sighed hearing the men loudly come in through the front door. Joel could hear the discomfort in your voice as the men could be heard in the background.

“Listen, I’m here again tonight. Why don’t you stay here till they leave” Joel suggested.

“I…I don’t know. I-“ you suddenly screamed jumping up from your chair at the sound of something loudly running into your door.

“What’s the matter you alright?”

“Jesus, yeah sorry. I think one of them just ran into my door or something, scared the shit out of me.” You explained making sure your door was locked.

“I think you should stay with me for the night” Joel was now more insistent on it and you yourself didn’t think it was a bad idea.

“Ok, but I’m not telling my dad where I’m going I’m just-“

“Don’t say a thing. Just grab what you need and stay on the phone with me till you get to your door. I’m right here in the front” Joel got out of the car waiting for you to make your way out while listening clearly to make sure you wouldn’t be bothered. With relief you opened your door to see Joel hanging up his phone a few feet away from you. His eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you.

“I seriously owe you” you whispered with a sigh as you walked beside him to his door.

“Just you being safe is good enough for me darlin’” he unlocked his door letting you in. This time more prepared you bought a bag with a change of clothes which was the first thing Joel noticed.

“Didn’t wanna wear my clothes again huh?” He teased making you blush.

“I mean, they were super comfy” you responded playfully noticing the grey sweats he wore himself, what a sight it was.

Joel hadn’t felt this excitement in a long time with a woman but he was still struggling with the idea of you being so young. You were mature, you were smart but Joel had never been with a woman this much younger than him.

That night the two of you ordered Chinese and played a movie you both liked. Next door you would hear your father and his guests going in and out of the house getting more alcohol, you could see them straight from the window. Joel caught you shaking your head looking over at them before looking back at the movie.

“He always been like this?”

“He’s gotten worse” you sighed.

“He never used to bring strangers over like that and now he expects me to be welcoming to drunk men gawking at me” Joel didn’t like the sound of that. Looking up out the window he could see those very men and the way they acted. He couldn’t understand how he couldn’t take the thought of them being near you but your own father didn’t think twice of it.

A few times Joel called his daughter making sure she was ok, it was always sweet hearing him talk to Sarah. Once he hung up he caught you staring at him making you giggle.

“What?”

“I just think it’s cute all the questions you ask her, you know…to make sure she’s ok”

“It’s a must when she’s at her friends house, she knows that” he responded.

“I can tell you’re very protective of Sarah” you looked over at him as he nodded facing you.

“I am very protective of those I care for” his words lingered in the air as his eyes found yours. He meant what he said and he wanted you to know you were becoming very much included in that. He felt you deserved to have someone who could make you feel safe and he wanted to be that someone. Adjusting yourself on the couch you looked away not sure what to say.

“I think you’re very sweet, Joel… I just don’t want you getting caught up in my mess and having a problem with my dad and-“

“I’m a big boy, sweetheart” he smirked.

“I assure you I could take care of myself” you chuckled before noticing he moved more closer to you.

“I’m sure you can..” you whispered realizing he was looking at you the same way he had been the other morning when you woke up beside him. Joel was doing his best trying to fight the urges he felt, the last thing he wanted you to think was that he was trying to get his way with you. Yet, the more time he spent with you, the harder it became to ignore. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. Silently leaning in closer he brushed his hand across the side of your face looking deep into your eyes before placing his lips on yours. Maybe it wasn’t smart for him to do but at that moment he didn’t care. Shocked yet excited you let him do as he pleased. His kisses were passionate, his tongue parting your lips as he kissed you deeply, his hand sliding down to your waist pulling you closer against him. The soft sound of your moan making him abruptly part his lips from you, turning his face away toward your shoulder.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked out of breath, you reached your hand up to his face noticing how fast he was breathing. His hands still on you as he took a deep breath. Joel couldn’t remember the last time he felt this hard for a woman.

“Not a thing” he whispered low before turning back to you and kissing you like he never stopped. His body ready to jump yours, his hand brushing up your blouse squeezing one of your breast. A steamy make out session with Joel Miller wasn’t something you expected, being caressed by him in a way that you knew he had been yearning for this turned you on. You could feel how much he ached for you, you felt him unexpectedly yank down at your top hard enough where he ripped it making you gasp.

“Sorry” you could hear the genuine hint of regret in his voice, it’s like he felt like he had to be gentle with you knowing what he was capable of.

Knowing the strength he had.

Yet, that’s not what you wanted.

Tugging down at the same spot he pulled, you lowered your shirt and bra enough to reveal your breasts to him, just like he had wanted.

His hand very slowly brushing up your waist gently cupping one of your breasts as if he was appreciating every detail he could see. He wondered if you knew how much power you had over him in this very moment. His tongue sliding between his teeth before he leaned in and took your nipple in his mouth. The feeling of his tongue flicking at it made you squirm, your hands running through his thick hair as you moaned. Taking his time with each nipple before pulling you on top of him making you feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of your leggings. His eyes were hungry for you like an animal, his hands tightly on your waist as you began to grind your hips on him. You could feel the length of his hard cock through his sweats.

How badly he wanted you.

His hands grabbing your ass guiding your body on him.

“Shit, honey you’re gonna make me cum in my damn pants” his voice was husky turning you on more until the sound of his phone vibrating caught you both off guard.

“Fuck- not now dammit” he looked over to see Tommy’s name and silenced it with a push of a button.

“Nothing important?” You whispered just as another call came in.

Tommy again.

“God dammit”

“It’s ok….just answer. It could be important”

Answering a phone call was the last thing Joel wanted to do with you straddling him but Tommy never called this late.

“Yeah?” Joel picked up the phone irritated as you slowly got off his lap. Laying his head back Joel rubbed his forehead listening to what Tommy had to say. You couldn’t help but look down and notice the very pronounced shape of his cock pushing up against his sweats.

Damn Tommy, you sighed as you tried fixing your top that Joel had broken.

“God dammit, Tommy. That’s gonna have to wait till the mornin’” is all you heard Joel say. Grabbing your bag of clothes you went off to the bathroom to change into your pajamas you bought with you.

You could hear Joel arguing back and fourth with his brother as you came out before he finally hung up. Standing in the kitchen you watched as he rubbed his eyes and cursed at himself.

“Everything ok?” You asked as he made his way to you.. He stopped before you not saying a word, grabbing your waist he pulled you against him and continued to kiss you. Your arms wrapped around him, he gently pushed you up against the counter. His cock hard against your pelvis.

“Joel” you whispered brushing your hand down his chest.

“I can just go back home if there’s somewhere you-“

“No no, that won’t be happenin’” he quickly shook his head, his eyes still in a trance not leaving your lips.

“Tommy’s just gonna have to wait” he looked back up into your eyes, realizing what the hell he was doing, realizing what it looked like.

“Listen-“ he caressed your waist.

“I don’t want you thinking just cause you’re staying here that you have to do anything, I promise you I wasn’t expecting none of this” you couldn’t help but smile.

“I promise you” you wrapped your arms around him.

“I wasn’t thinking that way of you. Besides…” you unexpectedly turned around leaning over on the counter, pressing your ass against his length.

“I like what we’re doing..” you teased looking back at him as stared down at your ass mesmerized. Wearing a pink pair of shorts you began to pull them down slowly swaying your hips, Joel was at a loss for words.

Pressing your bare ass against him, you bounced yourself against his cock.

“Fuck…shit-“ Joel knew he needed you in that moment.

“I don’t wanna hurt cha-“ he spoke in a deep whisper as his hands grabbed your waist.

“You’re not” you looked back and watched as he finally gave in pulling down his sweats. Spitting on his hand he lubricated his cock and placed his tip right at your entrance. Feeling the heat of your cunt he slowly thrusted in as you both let out a simultaneous moan of relief at the first feel of each other. The girth of his cock filling up your hole, your hands flat on the counter as he took hold of your waist and began moving in a steady rhythm. He watched your ass bounce off him making him bite his bottom lip. The sounds of your moans filling up his home only encouraging him to move faster. He couldn’t believe he was actually fucking your, his pleasure overlapping any doubts.

His hand creeping up to your shoulder giving you a squeeze before he grabbed a chunk of your hair and tugged at it. You squealed as he pulled you up against him by your hair, your body molding perfectly against his. His arm wrapped around you allowing his hand to take hold of your breast. Grunting in your ear he fucked you hard and fast as you whimpered, he knew you were about to cum.

“Joel…” you cried out.

“Yeah baby I’m here” he panted holding you close. Your legs shaking as you came but you felt him hold you up and steady.

“I got cha, baby” you couldn’t respond, each wave hitting every nerve in your body down to your toes. His hands squeezing whatever he could, he knew he was about to explode.

“Shit, baby girl you feel so good..: I’m about to cum-“ his body making yours jump against his until he finished with two last hard strokes. Moaning deeply against your ear he held your body against him. The sound of a man who had wanted you for so long. You could feel him throbbing inside you before slowly slipping out. Your legs slightly shaking you held on to the counter as he threw water on his face from the sink and cleaned himself off. He turned to see you staring at him as he tied his sweat pants, silently brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You alright, baby” you nodded as he walked towards you. Pulling you in close he kissed you, almost feeling as if he still couldn’t keep his hands off you.

“You sure?” His lips brushing against your forehead as you closed your eyes wanting more yourself.

Before you knew it Joel and you were having sex in the shower. The need to feel his body against yours, to feel himself inside you was one he couldn’t escape. Never had you felt such sexual chemistry with another man before…not like this. His wet hair slick back as he stared down at you with intensity, holding your leg up rocking his hips against you. You moaned grabbing onto the wall, your hand slipping down as you tried to hold on.

“Hold on to me, sugar” he panted continuing to slam into you. Tonight was a night that neither of you wanted to end. After he finished, the two of you silently held each other in the shower, letting the hot water fall over you.

“It’s getting really late” you whispered, half a smile appearing on his lips.

“Got somewhere to go, darlin’?”

Joel couldn’t help but smile watching you sit beside him on the couch picking at your leftovers.

“This is so good” you sighed before looking up and realizing the smirk he had as he stared at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just-“ his deep eyes devouring you.

“You look beautiful” the sincerity in his voice making you feel as if you were on a cloud when you were both distracted with your father coming out of the house arguing with one of the men. The two men shoving each other making you quickly stand up.

“Oh God” you quickly grabbed your keys until Joel caught your arm pulling you back.

“Stay inside” he went on to walk past you and headed out as you watched nervously from inside.

Joel quickly ran out pulling the drunk man off your father.

“Please just leave” you whispered to yourself referring to the other men. Joel yelled out something that you couldn’t make out while motioning for them to leave. Thankfully they backed away as Joel got your father on his feet, a bloody nose and black eye you could see forming right from where you were.

“You alright?” Joel asked with slight irritation remembering this was the same man who locked you out of the house on a late night.

“Fine, thanks Miller. I’m fine” he pulled himself away stumbling inside as Joel watched him close the door behind him.

Just as he made his way back to his front lawn you came out worriedly.

“Is he ok?” You asked as he gently pushed you back in the house.

“He’s fine, little bruised up but he’ll be fine”

“I should go check” Joel quickly shook his head not approving.

“Joel that’s my father-“

“And what if those men come back, you would’ve been in that house in the middle of a bunch of drunk men fighting had you not stayed here.” A look of defeat from you made him feel slightly guilty.

“I’m sorry baby, I just don’t feel you’re safe there right now” he tried to explain. You nodded in silence walking inside without looking back.

After getting some rest for a few hours you got up early before Tommy would return. Joel was already awake, you found him in the kitchen making breakfast.

“I better get going” your voice making him look up.

“Slow down, honey, I’m making us breakfast”

“Save it for you and Tommy, I don’t wanna risk him seeing me here again.” Joel followed you to the door before gently pulling you back against him. His hands on your waist he didn’t say a word resting his head on yours.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave” he whispered.

“Me neither” you sighed.

“By the way, I’ll pass by the pharmacy and get you some of that mornin’ after pill” his words making you blush.

“Sorry about that” the two of you chuckled.

“I’m on the pill, it’s ok” He kissed you once more before you turned and left back to your house. Joel watched until you got inside, wishing you didn’t have to stay there at all but what else could he do.

Returning home you found glass broken all over the floor, a broken chair and food thrown everywhere. You sighed, after an amazing night reality set in.

Your father must’ve still been sleeping not hearing a sound and so you began cleaning up the mess. As you cleaned you heard Joel’s truck out front knowing he was leaving for work just as Tommy drove in.

Hours later in the evening you heard your father wake up. Making his way down the hall as you stood by the open front door with a bag of garbage, instantly you noticed his bruises.

“Hey, dad-“

“Where were you?” His tone was filled with anger catching you off guard.

“Dad…I was at a friends house-“

“Did you see what they did to me?” He stepped closer pointing at his face.

“Where the hell were you?!”

“Dad, I stayed over a friends house I didn’t want to be here with all those drunk men and-“

“So this is your fault” he continued, his accusation causing you to shake your head with confusion as he stepped closer.

“This is all your fault!” He yelled loudly, Tommy who was throwing out the garbage looked up at the sound of your fathers voice.

“How the hell is it my fault?! Those are your friends that you insisted on having here!” You yelled back when an unexpected hard smack to your face made you stumble.

“Shit” Tommy whispered to himself. In shock you stood not saying a word before your father marched off outside slamming the door behind him, eager for another night of drinking.

Once the door closed you slowly moved your hair out of your face. Never had your father lay a finger on you, feelings of betrayal and hurt taking over.

Tommy watched as your father walked off unsure if he should check on you. Being that he never spoke to you that way he felt he was better off minding his business, besides, he knew you weren’t aware he saw anything.

A few hours later Joel was home with dinner for Tommy and Sarah. The day passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about the night he had with you, wanting you the more he thought of you.

“You’re in a good mood today” Tommy chuckled opening the box of pizza.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Joel shrugged before taking a quick bite of a slice.

“Better than that asshole next door seemed today. Giving that friend of yours a hard time” Joel immediately took interest in what Tommy was speaking of.

“What do ya mean, what happened?” He leaned back on the counter crossing his arms.

“The girls dad, they were arguing..he ended up-“ Tommy motioned a smack to the face so Sarah wouldn’t hear what was being spoken of.

“He hit her?” Joel blurt out, his expression instantly changing with what he was told.

“Where is he now? Why didn’t you call me?”

Tommy confused with how invested Joel was, with how angry Joel became.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked confused.

“Not now honey, go to your room. Uncle Tommy and I are talking” Sarah looked at her uncle who gave her a nod before she quickly did as she was told.

“Joel I didn’t know I was suppose to call you, and he left after that. I haven’t seen him return since” Joel didn’t respond quickly patting his pockets for his phone until he found it and giving you a call.

Laying in bed with your door locked you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing.

Thankfully it was Joel.

“Hello?” you quickly sat up relieved to hear from him.

“You alright?” Joel turned his back to Tommy.

“Y-yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You responded confused, you didn’t understand why he sounded so concerned. No one had seen what happened earlier…not that you realized. Joel stood silent realizing you weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Realizing that protecting you was going to be something much harder than he expected…but he wasn’t giving up on it…

Tags: @sushiumex @pinkiec6-rubi @princesatracionera

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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daechwitatamic · 6 months ago

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Vice;Grip || chapter 5 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: language, depictions of depression and depressive episodes, mentions of doctors' offices and medication, angst, mentions of attending therapy, recreational drinking, kissing

wc: 6.9k

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

Now - Fall

Vernon’s watching his ceiling fan when his phone chimes - a noise he isn’t fond of: incoming email.

For the last few months, his emails have all been from recruiting directors and head-hunters - either thanking him for his interest but regretfully informing him they’ve gone in a different direction, or head-hunters pretending they found him a great opportunity when it was really an underpaid, short-term position where he’d spend more on his commute into the city than he’d ever earn.

It’s been real fun. He sucked it up and finished grad school, threw his diploma behind a cheap frame, added the degree to his resume. Quit going to classes (because there weren’t any), quit spending whole nights on assignments (none of those anymore either), and still - he finds himself no happier than he’d been before, even with all the free time in the world. So maybe, he considers, grad school wasn’t the problem, and he’d done the right thing to just push through and finish.

On top of this - on top of the fact that he was still bored with life, still unenthused to be here - the break-up has sucked, just to make things even bleaker for him.

Can he even call it a break-up? You were never together. But it’s been nine days since he made you cry in his car - not that he’s counting - and all nine of them have fucking sucked. He’s wrestled with indecision for all of them - did he make a mistake? Should he try to undo the damage? Wasn’t what he had with you still better than being alone?

But he knows this will be better for him in the end. He knows that what you two were doing together wasn’t real, wasn’t a relationship. It couldn’t grow with him - it was stagnant by nature. So, even though something in his bones screams at him to take it back, in the end he doesn’t regret the decision to try and do something better.

He does regret that he can’t do something better with you. He regrets that he lost his temper and yelled, regrets that he was cold in his last moments with you.

Regrets that he spent two years walking towards a dead end.

Still misses you, despite this.

He picks up his phone and scrolls to his email, already feeling the frown take over his face in anticipation of another rejection. As expected, the email is from a company he’d interviewed with last week - he’d even gotten to a second in-person round, which was rare. Still, he hadn’t wanted to get excited about it. He knows how unlikely it is that they’ll want him.

Dear Mr. Chwe,

Our team was delighted to meet with you last week. We found your background impressive, especially your internship experience with -

Vernon’s eyes skim the page, so fast the words are a blur.

…Would like to formally offer you the position of… annual salary of… additional opportunities within the company including traveling to… working with… reporting to… expected start date of… we are looking forward to having you on our team!

Vernon’s heart thuds and he turns the screen off and stares at his ceiling again. He’ll answer it later, accept it graciously, call his eomma, probably shop online for some button-downs and maybe some ties. Later, though. Later. For now, he reaches for his lighter.

He kind of wishes he could tell you - hey, I got a job offer. hey, guess who gets to wear a suit five days a week now? hey, all that bullshit paid off in the end.

Would he have texted you any of that if he hadn’t ended things? You’d never talked about this kind of thing - that had been part of the problem.

Still. As illogical as it is, you’re the one Vernon wants to tell first. It aches a little, like sore muscles but somewhere inside him, behind his brittle ribs.

He wonders if you’re doing okay. He wonders if you care at all, or if you’re fine. He turns his lighter over and over in his fingers, and then realizes he’s just read the words contingent on... drug test…

“Fuck,” he grumbles, then picks up his phone again. Maybe he’ll call his mother first, after all.

—

You were never a big fan of autumn. A lot of your friends are - the season shifts and everyone starts posting about sweater weather and PSLs, the aesthetics suddenly revolving around pumpkins and ghosts.

You have plenty of ghosts, but not the right kind.

Your phantoms haunt your phone, mostly. You feel it buzz in your pocket, hear it vibrate on the table from the other room. Sometimes you even wake up from a dead sleep, sure you’ve heard it going off, reaching for it frantically, only to turn on the screen and see nothing.

No missed calls, no new texts.

You dream about him, too. In some of them, you’re still fighting, yelling at the top of your lungs in a way you never had in real life. In some, he isn’t even present - you just know he’s missing. In some, you’re trying to get to him, but never can - stopped by nonsense laws of dream physics.

In one of them, you tell him you love him, and he staggers backwards, breaths starting to rasp the way they had when you’d talked him through a panic attack, like he was just as scared of the admission as you had been.

Maybe he had been just as scared about it, back when it had mattered. Maybe he was just better at handling it than you are.

You never see his whole face in your dreams - only glimpses, fragments. You don’t want to examine if that means anything.

You fucking hate your brain.

You’re starting to hate your phone, too.

—

You lose November to grey - the whole month, a wash. You miss three days of work, unable to do anything - unable to cook, unable to get dressed. You feed the cat because you have to, and it’s the only reason you leave your bed except to pee.

When the grey days break as December dawns, you follow an impulse and schedule an appointment with your primary physician through their app. As you click the button to confirm the appointment, you burst into tears, loud and embarrassing. You cry with abandon, pulling your hoodie up to cover your face, to muffle the noise that you can’t stop.

You should have gone to a doctor years ago, and you know it. It feels like a big deal. It feels like a potential mistake - like opening a can of worms and now you have to deal with them. It feels like admitting something is wrong when you’ve worked so hard to look like nothing is. It feels like a farce, like nothing that bad is wrong with you, and you’re wasting everyone’s time.

But you keep the appointment anyway. You make yourself small in the chair on the other side of your doctor’s little table, and you admit, eyes on your hands, “I want to talk about my mental health. I think I’ve been dealing with depressive episodes. For… a long time, now.”

It’s so damn scary. As scary as loving and losing someone - like, yes, Vernon - had seemed. And you’re somehow surviving both.

Something to think about.

You buy yourself good job you did the scary thing ice cream on the way home. You go inside, put it away, and then scoop Nana off the couch, burying your face in his belly and cooing, “How is my favorite boy today?” He tolerates your nonsense with aplomb, as always.

Chan has never forgiven you for naming a cat “Banana Bread”, and you think that’s why Nana has never warmed up to him.

Nana loved Vernon, but you don’t want to think about that.

You kind of want to text him. You think he’d be proud of you for what you did today. You think he’d tell you good job.

(Chan would tell you good job, too, and will, when you call him later. But it doesn’t feel the same.)

You wonder if he’d answer if you told him. You wonder if he wouldn’t answer, but be proud of you anyway.

You fill the prescription, you leave your contact info with a therapist as advised by your primary physician. You don’t text Vernon.

You take your pride and your sadness, your fear and your hope and you channel them into greens and yellows. As late autumn grips the leafless trees outside, you paint something that looks like spring.

Now - Winter

Winter howls through your life like you personally pissed it off. You and Nana huddle under thick blankets with your tablet night after night.

Sometimes you close your eyes and remember Vernon’s hands slipping underneath his own hoodie on your skin; it helps you feel warmer.

Sometimes you think about the way he’d said the word wasted about the time he’d spent with you; it makes you feel cold all over again.

You click through all the tabs you’ve had open for days - different universities with decent visual arts programs, all advertising admission for the spring semester.

None of them are big name schools, not like the one you’d turned down all those years ago. But they aren’t nothing.

You’d brought it up to your therapist last week and she’d encouraged the idea - accepting that you can’t unstitch the mistakes in your tapestry, but you can control what new patterns emerge.

This was the plan: start classes. Open social media accounts to showcase your work. Network through school, look for job opportunities at galleries or for collectors. Open commissions, maybe.

On your best days, this seems like a list of goals to shoot for. On your worst days, this seems like a list of things you’ve already failed at before you’ve even started.

You text options to Chan, ask him, which school colors can you see me in?

Your best friend sends back, all of them. any of them. look at you go!!

You sit in your living room and watch snow fall lazily outside the window. You daydream about what classes might be like, if you get in. You take pictures of the snow in the park, then try to paint something similar once you’re home again.

You wonder if Vernon’s doing okay. You worry that he’s going through his hard days alone. You worry that maybe he’s not - maybe he found someone who helps him better than you did, maybe he’s so happy with them that he doesn’t have hard days at all.

(You know life doesn’t work like that.)

You paint Nana, just for shits, and post it on instagram. It gets the most engagement you’ve had so far. Someone messages you asking if you do commissions for pet portraits. You frown, looking at the message.

Maybe I do, you think.

Your apartment is cold. You burrow under blankets, rub your legs together like a cricket to warm them up, and think maybe after I’m a cicada, I could be a cricket next.

There’s no one to share the joke with who’d get it. Just another of the thousand ways you feel Vernon’s absence in your life. You hadn’t realized how much space he took up until he was gone.

—

Everywhere Vernon looks, all he sees are circles. The hands on his kitchen clock circle each other, align, move on again. They tell him he has two minutes to get out the door before he’s late.

He checks his appearance in the bathroom mirror, straightens his tie, smooths back his hair, then grabs his crossbody bag and heads for the bus.

The hands of the clock in his office mark his passage through his schedule: one circle until his 10:00 meeting will end. Two more after that and he can take a lunch break. A circle and a half until his one-on-one with his boss, to discuss his first few months here.

On his lunch break, Vernon rides with two of the guys he works with to some nature trails nearby, as they usually do. They swap suits for joggers and zip-ups, pop in airpods, and head out. Vernon didn’t run before this job - didn’t exercise much at all, really. He’d gone along with the guys the first time there had been an unseasonably warm day, just to be out, and he’d found it felt good to get fresh air and some endorphins before returning to his desk.

It’s cold today, the air brittle as he inhales, but the rest of his body feels warm as he works to keep up with the other guys. It’s not as hard as it used to be, keeping up.

The trail is a circle, too, passing a small, man-made lake before looping around back to the changing facilities. On his wrist, a fitness app closes circles to quantify his steps, his speed, his progress.

At home again, he runs his thumb around the edge of the circular joystick as he waits for Seungkwan and Wonwoo to sign in and join him for a round or two before he figures out dinner.

“Some of us were going to the bar tonight, you in?”

“Shouldn’t,” Vernon says. “But maybe this weekend?” Unfortunately, his new nine-to-five forces him to make decisions like this - better decisions. He kind of likes his job. He kind of doesn’t want to feel like shit in the morning.

His mind, a circle - always coming around back to you when it gets too quiet.

He opens his messages.

how have you been? … are you doing okay? … hey, i’m - … I think I’m sorry … what if we did it differently …

Of course he doesn’t send any of them. Instead, he searches for your instagram. You’d never followed each other in the first place, and he considers it a win that you didn’t block him when it was over. But you haven't posted anything that he can see in the last eight months.

Except - one post. It looks like your cat.

He clicks it and realizes that it’s not a photograph, but a painting, and the caption links to another account. He clicks that, too, and finds himself on a page that seems dedicated to posting paintings only.

Yours, apparently. He scrolls through slowly, rolling to his stomach so he can look more closely. He never knew you painted, let alone that you were good - great, even, to his untrained and certainly unbiased eyes.

Part of the problem, his mind chimes in.

Somehow, despite understanding each other better than anyone else in your lives, at the end of the day you hadn’t known each other at all.

Now - Spring

happy hour after lecture???

plsss can we

bestie YES!!!

The sender of the original invite - a girl close to your age called Juri - eyes you from two rows up, expectantly. Normally, you’d go straight home after class. But you’d been talking to your therapist about almost this exact situation - the way you closed people out, squandered friendships to the point that only Chan managed to hang onto you for more than a year. (Vernon had made it about two years, a sick voice in your head says, and then answers itself with, but you weren’t friends, anyway.)

So, you send the group chat, sure!

(You’d also been talking to your therapist about that last fight with Vernon. I can’t get that conversation out of my head, you told her.

I’ve been caring about you way more than I should, he’d said.

You’d been talking to her about how your brain had skipped like a flat stone right over that detail and had sunk deep on I don’t want to do this anymore.

“What did you think he meant?” she’d asked you, watching you carefully. “When he said do this, what did you think this was?”

Me, you’d whispered. Anything with me - hook up, sleep, spend time together, talk, anything.

She’d helped you see the context of the fight - that maybe by “I don’t want to do this” he’d meant “be with you but not with you”.

“Sounds fake, but okay,” you’d joked. She hadn’t laughed. Negative ten points at Therapy.

You were still working on trying to believe it.

You still weren’t sure if it fucking mattered what he meant, because instead of asking him, “what do you want, then?” you’d gone defensive, had greedily grabbed at the excuse to push him away, hard and careless. He wouldn’t want you back now, even if that’s what he’d wanted at the time. You were sure of it.)

Happy that you’ve agreed to go out, Juri flashes you a grin and then turns around in her seat to watch the board again.

The bar Juri chooses is cute, not crowded or noisy yet this early in the evening. You sip at a beer and talk with the girls about upcoming projects, about the professor you all can’t stand, about the term paper you all feel you shouldn’t have to do.

It’s nice, and honestly when you glance at the time and decide you’d better get home to feed Nana, you regret that you have to. Still, you make your way to the bar to pay for your portion.

You don’t even notice the lean, handsome man who sidles up next to you while you wait for your check until he speaks.

“What’s your drink?”

You look over at him, surprised. “Oh,” you say, which isn’t really an answer. “I’m leaving, actually.”

He gives an exaggerated frown. “It’s so early!”

You shrug. “Sorry. Places to be.”

He’s cute, you consider, as you pay your bill and head for the door. Two years ago, you probably would have picked up what he was putting down.

At home, you feed Nana, then collapse on the couch, pulling a throw blanket all the way over your head. Your stomach churns with discomfort.

You open your phone, find Vernon in your contacts.

You sit on his contact page, thumbs hovering over his number, for so long that your screen goes black twice while you stay locked in indecision.

Don’t call him don’t call him don’t call him.

But you’re lonely, and you miss him, and going out made you think of him, and you wonder what would happen if you did it, if you called. Would he even answer?

Eventually, you let reason win this time, and get up from the couch, the blanket falling from you like you’d shed a skin.

In your spare room, you eye the last painting you’d finished - mostly black but with a fractured, fragmented view of a tabletop littered with empty glasses and half-finished drinks, all the liquids a toxic, piercing neon pink. You hadn’t posted that one; it felt too much like an admission.

You stare down the empty canvas, tapping your mouth with the wooden end of a brush, deciding how to begin. You close your eyes and see the beast that’s followed you these last few years - even before Vernon. The embodiment of your shame, your regrets, your failures. It’s never left your side for long.

When you finally begin to paint it, you start with the claws.

—

you up for a 1v1?

arent you on a date???

obviously not.

you didn’t go? bro.

i went. it was just. idk.

it was just what?

idk dude.

you didn’t like her?

she was fine?? she was funny, and hot, and it was fine

so why are you home alone at 8:30 asking me to come online

Vernon rubs at his face in irritation. He doesn’t know what to say, how to explain to Seungkwan why the date had felt flat.

What could he say? It was fine. It just wasn’t… enough.

He could still remember how he’d felt the first night he met you. He wanted to feel that.

idk, he told Seungkwan. lack of chemistry, ig.

Now - Summer

You think you’ve learned a lot over the past few months - between starting classes again and beginning therapy, you’re just bursting with new knowledge.

Something you’re working on is appreciating the shadows.

In class, you work on shading, on adding darks even when you think an area should all be light. Sometimes, somehow, shadows are exactly what you need to make it right on the canvas.

You think about this concept for your whole drive home from therapy - how the shadows under trees change the way you see them, how the darks affect the lights, how the shadows in your own life are natural and maybe, in the end, not so catastrophic.

At home, you duck your head into the shadows under your bed and drag Nana out by the middle.

“Come be social,” you scold him, plopping him on the couch.

After dinner, you go back to work on what you were painting. You’d been stuck for a few days, not happy with any change you made, but today you have an idea.

You create a palette of black, grey, navy, and deep purple. For two hours, you work meticulously, adding the midnights, the bruises, the shadows. They belong here, too.

—

Chan tells you he’s proud of you, the next time he’s over, and it makes you cry even though you’re only one your second sip of wine.

“Stop it,” you scold, avoiding his gaze, burning up under the attention.

“I mean it,” he says seriously. “I’m so happy that you’re painting again, I could throw up. And going back to school? And therapy? Damn. The glow-up.”

“Ew,” you frown at him, because this feels safer than acknowledging that you have been working hard on yourself, on your life. “What year is it, 2017?”

He gives you a look to make sure you know that he sees through your bullshit.

“It’s not all perfect,” you admit quietly. You feel like it should - like you’ve done the work, and now you should get the happy ending. But it hasn’t worked that way. You’re still working at a job that feels like a waste of time, painting on the side. You’re accumulating some debt for the classes you’re taking. The grey days still come and go, though admittedly their grip is less intense.

And you still think of Vernon, near daily.

Chan shrugs. “That’s normal. Perfect isn’t real. It’s unattainable. If your therapist hasn’t told you that, then you’re wasting your money.”

You laugh. She had told you that. Another thing that was easier to say than to put into practice.

You recork the bottle after a second glass, put it in your fridge for another day. Returning to your spot by Chan’s side, you tell him, “I keep thinking about him.”

Chan cocks his head, probably unsure if you’re talking about who he thinks you are.

“The guy I was hooking up with.”

“Ah.” He inclines his head knowingly.

You recount what he already knows - that you’d been whatever you were for about two years, that it had ended. That it was your fault.

“I think,” you say, taking a deep breath mid-sentence to steel yourself for the truth, “I think I could have loved him. I don’t know… maybe I did.”

“Either you did or you didn’t,” Chan points out, which is fair.

“It’s just…” you say, thinking about it. “We kept our boundaries so tight. We didn’t talk during the day, didn’t meet each others’ friends or families… barely got to know anything about each other. But it was like… even so, I think we just understood each other. It was like a lot of it just went without saying.”

Chan considers this, face serious. “Sounds like the potential was there, at least. If nothing else.”

“Yeah,” you said sadly, tracing the bottom of your wine glass with your finger. “Potential.”

Wasted potential. You’d heard that plenty before, just not usually about your love life.

Chan reaches out and shakes your knee playfully. “It’ll happen again,” he promises.

You don’t know what would be worse - if it never did, or it did, but it wasn’t Vernon. You’d never believed in there only being one right person for you - like soulmates or shit like that. But looking back at your time together, you’re not sure anyone will ever have a hold over you the way Vernon did. The grip he had on your life was unshakable.

Before he leaves for the night, Chan hesitates by the door.

“Hey,” he says, “this weekend? A bunch of the guys are driving down to the beach for the day. Wanna join?”

Something else you would have said no to, before. You’re trying to say yes more, plus you can’t deny that the sea air and sunshine sound like heaven.

“Sure,” you say, shifting to block Nana from slipping out the front door as Chan opens it. “Text me the details.”

Later, you ask what you should have asked first. who all is coming?

Chan sends back the list - six of his friends, ending with, seungcheol-hyung and his friend hansol. i think you’ve met him once or twice at the bars? he’s a good guy.

Something in you knew this was going to be the answer. You counted your breaths, tried to talk yourself down from immediately bailing on the plan.

Sleep on it, you told yourself. See how you feel in a few days.

You followed your own directions, but for days your mind spun around the question, buzzing and frantic.

Are you ready to see Vernon? To be around him, and act normal? Is it a good idea? Will you fight? Will you fall back into old habits? Will he bring out the worst in you?

Actually, you consider, that isn’t fair. Vernon never brought out your bad habits - he just coexisted peacefully with them, never tried to kick them out.

You’re scared that seeing him will undo the work of getting over him. But that isn’t true, either - because you don’t think you moved on from him at all.

In the end, you do slip into old habits - you let yourself make a potentially bad decision. You decide to go.

A twisted, quiet part of you is kind of excited.

The louder part is scared to death.

—

The day is perfect - blue sky, barely any clouds, hot and bright. Chan drives you and two of his friends; a second car with the others is somewhere en route, will meet your group once you’re there.

Chan’s car arrives first, and you help the guys unpack the trunk. Loaded down with beach bags, chairs, and coolers, you make your way unsteadily through the sand, pausing at one point to take off your flip-flops, tired of how they slow you down in the dry, loose sand.

You pick a spot and lay the towels out, unfold the chairs, get the umbrella anchored down in the sand so it doesn’t fly away.

The whole time, you can’t stop watching the parking lot, waiting for the other group to arrive - waiting for the moment of truth. What will happen when Vernon sees you?

Once everything is set up, you lay out, trying to enjoy what is admittedly beautiful weather. It’s so bright that when you lay on your back, you want to throw an arm over your eyes to block out the light, to really relax.

It feels like forever when you hear a distant shout and sit up, blinking against the glare of the sun, returning your sunglasses to your face as you get your bearings. A group of Chan’s friends approaches, one of them - Mingyu, you think - shouting hello and waving like a fool.

You stand to greet them, waving hi when they get close enough. You bite your lip nervously and glance at Vernon. He’s near the back of the group - their car had brought four people, just like yours - and his face is absolutely unreadable as he looks at you. It reminds you of the beginning, when you noticed how hard he works to keep his expression blank.

He’d stopped doing that with you, near the end. You’d almost forgotten.

Meeting and holding his gaze, you give him a solemn nod. I can be normal if you can, you try to promise, silently.

The moment is tense; you aren’t sure how he’ll react. Then, he gives you his own tiny nod back.

Relief melts through you like butter. Seeing him aches, but it isn’t unmanageable. You can do this - you’ll both be okay. You’ll both get through the day.

You help set up a second umbrella while a few of the guys move a few yards away to set up a volleyball net.

For a few hours they play volleyball. You sit on your towel with airpods in and watch, trying not to notice Vernon, trying to keep that part of your brain locked tight in its little box. But the sunlight streams down, not half as blinding as his smile as he jokes and laughs with Chan and Seungcheol, nowhere near as glittering as his laugh when he doubles over, elbows on his knees.

The sun is almost directly overhead when you get warm enough to brave the ocean.

“I’m gonna swim for a few,” you announce, standing and brushing some loose sand from your thighs.

Chan collapses on his towel, next to yours, pushing his hair back and heaving a deep breath, exhausted from volleyball.

“Maybe in a few,” he wheezes. “I need a minute.”

“I’ll go,” Soonyoung says, tossing his sunglasses onto his towel so he doesn’t lose them in the ocean.

You head down to where the waves are breaking onto the wet sand, foamy water dancing up to your ankles before retreating into the deep sea again. It’s cold, but under the midday sun the cold is welcome. You wade until you hit the awkward point where it’s hard to stand without being constantly battered by breaking waves, and then you duck underneath the surface and swim past the breaking point.

Treading water, you turn to see if Soonyoung made it out with you. He’s still back a bit, jumping each time a wave comes through. Beside him, Mingyu splutters, having taken a wave to his face. A few feet back, the water only at their knees, Vernon and Chan laugh maniacally.

You missed those goose honks.

The guys take their time catching up to you until all five of you are treading.

“Do you think there are jellyfish?” Soonyoung asks, peering into the water behind you.

“Probably,” Vernon deadpans, and you laugh, then immediately wonder if you shouldn’t. Luckily, he grins at you appreciatively as, behind him, Chan points out that there could be sharks, too.

“I’ll probably go back in soon,” Soonyoung says, trying to sound cavalier, but his unease shines through.

“We’re fine,” you promise. “You don’t have to out-swim the shark. You just have to out-swim Chan.”

Chan curses and splashes water at you as the others laugh.

You talk and float for a little longer until you consider the goosebumps on your limbs, the growl in your stomach.

“Anyone interested in lunch?” you ask.

Mingyu raises his arm and squints at his watch. “It is one,” he says. “I could eat. What did you guys bring?”

Chan starts rattling off what’s in your coolers as you start to make your way back to shore. You reach the point where your feet touch the sand, only to get slammed in the back by an incoming wave. You stumble a little, and someone holds your elbow steady, helping you stagger through it without completely tripping.

You give Vernon a grateful smile as he retracts his hand, but your stomach is swooping and your arm is burning where he’d held you.

Rejoining the others, you plop down on your towel, suddenly exhausted. The ocean water drying on your skin under the sun makes you shiver as you dig through the cooler. You pass out drinks to the guys closest to you, toss a bag of chips at Seungkwan when he asks for them, then settle back on your own towel to eat.

After, full and happy, you flop backwards and put airpods back in. Seungkwan and Soonyoung head back to the volleyball net. Mingyu and Chan seem content to bake in the sun, like you, and beyond them the others have circled up and are playing a card game, open cans of beer in the sand beside them.

You feel truly at peace, and you take a moment to ask the universe - can I hold onto this? Can I remember, when things go grey, that these moments exist?

Once you’re warm again, you pull your shorts back on and whack Chan on the arm. He startles awake, pushing his sunglasses up to glare at you.

“I’m going to walk up the beach for a little,” you tell him, pointing, just so somewhere will know where you are. He nods, his head sinking back down to his towel, eyes closing again.

You walk where the waves flood over your feet every few minutes, never getting higher than your ankles. You search for shells as you go, carrying one or two, but mostly stopping to take pictures of them and leaving them where they are, wanting to paint them later.

There are four shells in your hand when you hear someone call your name. You turn, surprised, and your stomach swoops again; Vernon approaches, hat twisted backwards and sunglasses perched over the top of it, one hand reaching out to show you a shell he’d found.

You hold still, you let him come to you. When he’s close enough, you hold open your hand and let him drop the shell there. It’s a mostly-white spiral top.

“Thanks,” you say, looking away from the shell to meet Vernon’s eyes.

He looks down at the other four in your hands. “You gonna paint them?”

You feel yourself physically take a step back in shock. “What?”

Embarrassment darkens his face just slightly. “I’ve been following your art page,” he admits, shoving his hands into his shorts pockets. “I didn’t know.” Then, “I feel bad that I didn’t know. You’re really good.”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t painting when we… I used to. I stopped for a long time. Just started again, after…” You trail off. After you left me. After I pushed you away.

He nods, licks his lips. “Does it help?” he asks, and you know exactly what he’s asking - does it make the rocks weigh less, does it make the grey lighter?

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “In general. It’s been… kind of cathartic.”

You both stand there, the shells on your palms between you, a decision teetering between you.

You should be the one to mend it, you think, since you were the one who’d ruined it before.

“Do you want to walk with me?” you ask, a little tentatively. “You don’t have to - I’m fine on my own -”

“I’d like to,” he says, voice quiet, and something about it makes you want to well up - that he’s willing to give you his time, that he doesn’t hate you as much as you deserve.

You walk quietly together as the sun starts to sink a little, casting everything a bit orange.

“What’s new with you?” you ask, finally.

And he tells you - new job that he actually likes despite how stuffy the nine-to-five thing sounds in theory, new mile time on his daily run, new friends through work.

“And you?”

You fill him in, telling him about taking classes part-time around your job, the commissions that aren’t enough to sustain you but aren’t nothing - you even shyly admit that you’ve been seeing a therapist.

It was the most either of you had ever talked about your real lives, you thought. It struck you how normal it felt, like it wasn’t something new or novel.

“Sounds like things are coming together for you,” he says.

“You, too,” you return.

Everything between you sits heavy, weighing the moment down, pulling towards the ocean’s depths like an anchor.

Then, at the same time, you break.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Vernon, I’m really sorry.”

He stops walking, turns to face you, aglow as the golden hour inches closer. The sun is warm on your skin, the sand is warm beneath your feet, and you are dying to make it right with him.

“It’s good to see you, too,” you whisper. You’re scared of this moment - scared it will burst, like a bubble, like waking up from a dream that you can’t get back.

“Don’t be sorry,” he counters. “We both screwed up.”

You shake your head, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “No,” you say emphatically. “You had every right to be mad. You were right that you were wasting time.”

He glances down, mouth pulling into a frown. “I’m sorry I said that to you. It wasn’t a waste.”

“Maybe not entirely,” you allow. “But you were right. I was never going to give you what you wanted - not back then, not with… how I was. That last fight we had… it would have been so easy for me to just let you in, and everything would have been fine. And I just… couldn’t.”

He listens seriously, watching your face carefully. You look at your feet in the sand, feeling the beginning trickles of shame down your spine. But you remember that the beast can’t get you - you’d locked him on a canvas. You don’t succumb to him in these moments anymore - you take a breath and remember that you’ve grown since then.

“And -” you swallow, take a breath, “- and I’m sorry. You deserve so much better than that.”

He nods, slowly, his eyes suddenly on the ocean. You watch his throat work, and your stomach clenches in regret. Then, he says, “I should have been clearer with you - way sooner than I was.”

“I’m not sure it would have changed anything,” you admit sadly.

He nods again, agreeing. “Still,” he says.

Still.

“I really like your paintings,” he says, and then laughs at himself before you can respond. “Sorry, that sounded so lame. I don’t know the art terms or anything. I just… like them.”

You smile despite how serious the conversation had felt only seconds ago. “Thanks,” you say shyly.

“What’s the best thing you’ve learned in your classes?” he asks, stepping a little closer.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Shadows,” you say simply, looking up at him. “Even the brightest painting is nothing without the shadows.”

His smile grows slowly, and you know he gets it. Of course he does. He’s been in the trenches right alongside you.

“I thought about you a lot,” he admits, and you realize how close you’re standing. Had you been standing this close the whole time?

“I did, too,” you murmur, heart hammering.

His fingers brush up your sun-warmed arm, and you shiver despite the heat.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice low, a little unsure.

He’d never asked before.

You nod, unable to speak, lifting up to meet him halfway. He kisses you like he never had before - featherlight, gentle, like you’re the most fragile thing.

Neither of you say anything after, but as you start walking back towards the guys, you slip your hand into his, and he gives it a squeeze.

You’re still hand in hand when you reach the towels, and you watch Chan clock it out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t call you out, and you promise yourself that you’ll give him the conversation you owe him - later. When you’re alone.

You stay a few more hours; the guys play a little more volleyball, you sit on the towels and fill pages in your sketchbook. You draw Vernon - all angles, so sharp, so beautiful.

When the sun sinks low enough, the guys start packing things up, and you help haul everything back towards the cars.

As you slam the trunk of Chan’s car shut, you turn to find Vernon waiting.

“What about now?” he asks.

“What?”

“You said not back then,” he explains. “You said back then you couldn’t give me what I wanted. What about now?”

The question lands like a mine. “I don’t know,” you say, as honest as you can be. “Vernon, I don’t know. I’m scared - I’m scared I’ll hurt you again, mess it up again. I don’t know what I can promise you.”

He considers this. “Okay,” he says finally, in that easy way of his. “What if I don’t want a promise? What if I just want to know… what’re you doing next Saturday?”

You and him, you’d existed only at night. You’d never done this before - considered dating, considered giving him more than just the hours between midnight and three am. You’d never considered letting him be him and not just one of your many vices, one of your distractions, one of the things you used to hide from how broken you felt. But here, now, with the summer sun beating down on your shoulders, you take in his whole, unfragmented face and see how open it is, how willing he is to meet you where you are.

You’ve been missing out on so much, you think. It’s about time to stand in the light - with him. With him, you could try.

“Nothing,” you say, smiling up at him. “You got a suggestion?”

“Yeah,” he says, sending you a wink as he starts to back away, the car keys jingling in his hand. “I know a place.”

<- Prev

thank you so much for reading my veyr first svt fic!! i hope to write many more in the future :)

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sacrednova · 1 month ago

Text

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 5

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1 | Part 6

Back to that night, (morning to him), Simon barely had time to process the call, dripping water onto the floor as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Her number flashed on the screen, but the voice on the other end wasn’t hers—it was one of her friends, slurring and calling him “Uber.” He was about to hang up, shake off this bizarre interruption to his night, when he heard her laugh in the background. It was a sound he hadn’t realized he missed.

And just like that, the memory flooded back—the way she had looked lying there in her bed, still half-dreaming, the way her hair spread across the pillow like some kind of halo. Her eyes, when they met his, had held something he couldn’t ignore, something that lingered long after he’d driven away that morning.

He closed his eyes, took a slow breath. Why was he even entertaining this? There was no denying it: he was interested, if only a little. But enough to look for her, to chase her? No, not exactly. Still, this was an opportunity, wasn’t it? A coincidence that didn’t require him to make any choices, just… to drive, to be there.

As he finished getting ready, he shot a quick text to Johnny, letting him know he’d be running late to base. Unsurprisingly, Johnny was quick to pick up on it.

Simon huffed at the message. He could practically hear Johnny’s smirk.

And with that, he slipped on a face mask, pulled a black cap low over his eyes, and buttoned up his uniform. He wasn’t about to make a habit of this—but one more night? That he could handle.

As he pulled up to the curb, he could already hear her friends talking—half-laughing, half-teasing. Their voices carried that messy excitement of a night spent a little too deep in the bottle, and he could hear his name on their lips, thrown around in a way that would have made most men’s egos soar. But when he saw her there, cheeks flushed, head ducked as her friends nudged her with conspiratorial glances, it felt… different. Pride crept up on him, sure, but it wasn’t the familiar, shallow kind he usually felt in these situations. She wasn’t just another face in a line of passing encounters, and the idea of seeing her as a one-night fling felt wrong. Somehow, he knew she’d never fit into that category, not for him.

Still, he felt the pull—the impulse to admire her, take in every detail, imagine the things he was barely allowing himself to think about. But more than that, he wanted to hear her talk, to get lost in the way she rambled and blushed, her boldness dipping in and out like a tide. It was maddening and frustrating, but even more, it was addictive.

“Right?” he thought to himself, as if needing the reassurance. I just want to hear her talk. Right?

Then again… maybe that wasn't all. He clenched his jaw, fighting off the surge of thoughts that threatened to pull him down a familiar path.

And when she slipped out of his truck, the look on her face settled like a weight in his chest—a fleeting disappointment, a shadow of hurt. He hadn’t meant it that way; he’d just been honest. He didn’t do well with calls, or texts, or… whatever this was supposed to be. Keeping distance was safer, for both of them. But somehow, seeing that expression made him feel like he’d fumbled it all.

Bloody hell, he thought, dragging a hand over his face. He was trying to keep things simple, keep his boundaries intact, avoid this tangled mess he knew he’d only ruin. But the second those words slipped out—“I like bourbon”—the guard he’d tried so hard to hold was gone.

Why did he say that? Why couldn’t he just let her leave with a clean goodbye? He should have known better. He did know better. But she’d left something unsteady in his mind, a tug he couldn’t shake. He wanted her close, yet something dark and heavy in him kept holding him back, whispering the same, cold refrain: You don’t deserve a good thing.

For a man who thrived on control, this was chaos. And maybe that was what scared him most—how badly he wanted her, despite everything that told him he shouldn’t.

He gripped the wheel tighter, jaw clenched, as if forcing himself to stay grounded could untangle his mind. Get it together, Riley. But her message kept replaying in his head, “It’s a date.”

His pulse jumped every time he thought about it, a strange thrill running under his skin that he couldn’t explain. Adrenaline was familiar—this wasn’t that. It was something sharper, laced with a damn feeling he’d barely let himself acknowledge. Anticipation, maybe. But did she actually mean a date with him? What did she see here, in a man like him, someone who came and went, who’d never had more to offer than a night or two and a silent exit?

He shook his head, almost laughing at himself. You’re thinking too far. But it nagged at him—some reckless part of him considering more than a single night, something deeper. Get a grip. He shouldn’t be thinking about seeing her again, about anything more. Yet somehow, the thought of something real with her felt like a dangerous promise, and he wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of letting her down… or of wanting it for himself.

The days that followed felt like a haze, each one blending into the next as if time itself had twisted around them. She was nearly losing her mind in disbelief, clutching her phone every so often just to make sure she hadn’t imagined their exchange. A date with him, she thought, her heart racing each time she saw that simple, blunt text: “It is.”

On the other end, Simon was in his worst mood all week. He’d been restless, short-tempered, and on edge—a state Soap noticed immediately. Every comment, every offhand remark seemed to hit him wrong, and the last thing he needed was Soap’s relentless needling.

Late Wednesday night, Simon had just returned from a brutal day—one that included nearly getting himself buried alive thanks to a reckless mission. As he tried to settle his mind, Soap’s text popped up.

Simon stared at the word, letting it sink in, and he felt that twinge again. “Ghosted me.”

It hit harder than it should have. He clenched his jaw, then tapped back a quick reply, unable to shake the memory of her voice, almost uncertain but trying to laugh off the sting when she’d said it.

Soap’s response came immediately, and Simon could almost hear his laugh through the screen.

Simon scowled, but the explanation hit home. He didn’t mean to disappear on her. He just… hadn’t known how to continue, how to deal with whatever was stirring up inside him. He was used to being here one day, gone the next—no strings, no complications.

But it was her voice, that small crack in it, that was stuck in his head. And something about the thought of her feeling hurt, thinking he’d just dismissed her, made his chest tighten with a strange guilt.

He shot another reply to Soap.

Simon stared at his phone, that unwanted little spark of irritation pricking at him. Soap had always had a knack for prying at the worst times. But this time, Simon didn’t answer. Instead, he sat there, his thumb hovering over the screen, his thoughts circling back to her words.

The days leading up to Friday felt like a fever dream. She couldn’t focus, her mind looping back to him at the worst times. She was texting Lottie about outfits all week, messaging in frantic bursts:

Lottie’s replies came just as fast:

And then Friday came. The second she opened her eyes, her stomach was tight with nerves. She was sweating through her day, fussing over every tiny detail, trying to push away the flustered feeling every time she thought about him. Why was she this worked up over a guy like him? He wasn’t anything like the men she usually went for, and honestly, he was a mystery—never showed his face, never even gave her the faintest hint that he might be interested. But… maybe, just maybe she’d missed the little signs he had given.

Because that thing about bourbon—was that a sign? And the fact that he actually drove her and her friends home that night?

Maybe, in his all-serious, closed-off way, he was giving her hints. And maybe, she just needed to be a little patient, to take things slow.

She wanted this. Wanted him. And maybe, against all her own warnings, she wanted it to be more than just one night.

By 19:00, she couldn’t take it anymore—she had to text him. Nerves made her fingers fly over her phone as she typed:

Before she could spiral any further, his reply came in, simple and to the point.

She bit her lip, eyes narrowing. Of course, he was that dry.

A pause, then his reply came back just as blunt.

God, he was so direct. So dry. And she couldn’t help it—she loved it.

Next [6]

@sleep101

I am posting this story on AO3 too; CLICK HERE TO SEE IT! (I always post here first)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #cod modern warfare #ghost fanfiction #cod headcanons #fanfic #ao3 #my writing #ghost cod #fem reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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riddles-n-games · 4 months ago

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Nash's Internal Wounds

You know what absolutely broke me in The Brothers Hawthorne? Nash's confession during Grayson's 911. He was all alone, there was no one he could fully rely on. He had no parental figure, at least, not in the capacity that his brothers did and even then, we know how sh*tty their grandfather was to them; Grayson had to be perfect because he was the heir-to-be, Jameson was oRDiNarY, and Xander, well goodness knows. The old man and him were clearly at odds with each other yet Nash still had the mental strength to not bend to Tobias Hawthorne's will. Zara was there somewhat as evidenced by The Hawthorne Legacy, but still, even she held him at arm's length because of what he represented as Skye's affair with Jake Nash who was a man she once loved. You could call him the physical manifestation of Skye and Zara's distance because of the affair and the beginning of the end for whatever sisterly bond they did have. If at least Toby stayed, I bet he would have been a good uncle to Nash.

Alisa left him, too, and honestly, damn that whole loyalty thing to the old man, it wasn't healthy for anyone that had a connection with Tobias. Nash wanted to leave that behind for a reason, he experienced how toxic that environment was to grow up in but he stayed, for his brothers and he wanted to have a fresh start when he had his own family. That must be where the saviour complex comes from; he had embedded into himself the motto when there isn’t a father in the home, the eldest is the man of the house and he was. His brothers didn’t have fathers, their mother was neglectful and while the old man cared, it was twisted and came at a price. He wasn’t in any better condition but someone had to step up and that was him. Of course that didn’t replace the need for parents but I think it certainly helped the other three to keep them more sane as they grew.

I don’t know how Alisa and him got together but assuming she grew up alongside him, she must have gone to school with him or just spent a lot of time in the vicinity that they got to bond and eventually establish a relationship. So when she insisted on staying and breaking off the engagement, being scared and alone was his natural reaction. And then the realizations he had. “... I knew in my bones that it was because there was something wrong with me.” Quite literally, you can hear my heart breaking in the background. I think it’s at this point as a reader that you realize how much more mental suffering this man bore, how much he hid and dealt with behind the scenes. It makes every scene with Avery when he did something to soothe or protect her mean so much more. It makes you realize why he was with Libby from the start. It makes you think about what the simplest of interactions between him and his brothers meant.

He was a rock; one with many cracks but a firm foundation. That’s why he went on those long trips where he disappeared for a time. This was his way of healing and bringing those people with him? Well, he gave them a purpose and maybe that helped him find his own. Screaming at the world isn’t going to help but maybe changing one person’s life by just being there for them could. And that is why I’d say Nash is the most mature and honest of the Hawthorne brothers. He didn’t let the old man’s ways consume him; did he crumble? Most certainly. But he found a way straight through the wall and that’s also the reason why he was able to get over many things compared to his brothers. He still has other issues like everyone does but when you look through Jameson and Grayson’s eyes in TBH, you can see that subconsciously they are trying to be like Nash, unaffected. They’ll get there too, eventually.

Thanks for reading!

#nash westbrook hawthorne #nash hawthorne #nash is the underrated hawthorne brother #hawthorne brothers #tig anecdote #tig analysis #the inheritance games thoughts #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tbh

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didishawn · 1 year ago

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Love at First Massage (Jude Bellingham x reader)

Warnings: feet I guess (?)

Masterlist

It was Vinicius who recommended him the place, a nice, unknown, little massage parlour somewhere along the forgotten streets leading up to Plaza Mayor.

The first thing that caught his attention was how empty the place was, a bored looking lady in the reception table checking out her nails as the typical hallway music played on the background.

The sound of his steps got her attention, her eyes didn't widden -probably used to Vini and other players visiting the place-, but he could see recognition on her face as she nodded her head on greeting as he introduces himself, she stood up and leaded him up to the farthest away chair from the windows and told him to wait.

A small chair was next to his chair topped by some magazines, his face visible in one of them, he still couldn't understand spanish, but he guessed they were throwing praises at him for scoring in all La Liga matches since his debut.

"Hi, I am y/n, I am in charge of your massage today"

A voice, your voice, caught his attention, and he was hypnotised from the very first moment, truly believing that he had died and went to heaven.

He tried to greet you back, he truly did, but not a noise came out of his mouth and he missed his opportunity when you arched an eyebrow and got down to work, he was already barefoot, you put some cream in your hands and started.

It were not only, your face and your voice which were angel made, also your hands as Jude could quickly feel the sourness and tiredness slip away and his feet to feel like new.

You were not talkative, or maybe not just with him after he didn't even greet you back.

Jude cleared his throat, yet you didn't look up to him as he scratched his neck and searched for any reason to speak with you.

"Do you watch football?" he wanted to hit himself, why couldn't he think about anything else? You laughed.

"Is that an indirect way of asking whether I know you or don't?" you inquired, looking up to him, a teasing look on your eye "I do know who you are and I do watch football, but maybe my team of choice won't be of your liking, or maybe yes as everyone knows of those tweets of you recognising the real goat"

"I suppose that means you have also seen that school project in which I wrote what my dream team was"

"I did, my brother went crazy calling you an hypocrite for then going to Real Madrid in what he deems a money operation and nothing more"

"He sounds like a real fan"

"Ask Vinicius what happened the last time he came over and my brother just happened to be here. Also tell him he still owes me that money"

"So, you work in this massage parlour and as a side job you do bets with football players for the extra money?"

"Not everyone is offered like a hundred million euros, you do what you have to do, Bellingham"

So, you were beautiful, you were smart, you liked football and you were funny as well as great at massages.

Jude was already down hard, he even thought about purposely injuring himself to come back sooner.

The massage was entirely too short for his liking -it went on for over an hour, you didn't tell him how you were purposely slow to keep on chatting with him.

Turns out, Jude Bellingham wasn't just great at football, but also at mantianimg long conversations and making sure to keep eye contact even while you worked on his feet.

When you finished, Jude almost asked you to keep going, but he didn't want to seem desperate, but he did leave a special note with his phone number written down alongside a generous tip.

He couldn't help but laugh before asking you out on a date, when you sent him a photo of what you had spent your tip on.

You did look good in red and blue, but he bet you would look even better with his last name on your back.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #Real Madrid #football imagine #football player #football #english #English national team #england nt #england national team #jude bellingham imagine

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year ago

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Rem's Last Words

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 14. Against a blank white background, Rem stands, holding young Vash's hands, who leans back against her, looking at Knives with a smile. Young Knives stands next to them, smiling back and winking. Rem's voice says "Vash... don't leave Knives on his own." End ID.]

Rem's last words to Vash are never going to fail to completely mess me up. It totally changes the context of the twins' prior scenes.

All that time, that 80 years spent with Knives after the Big Fall, slowly growing to resent him more and more... do you think, even though he said the noise was such that he didn't hear her words, that somehow the message got through to him anyways? That Vash felt compelled to stay because this was his brother, and because Rem asked? And because Vash eventually swore to take down Knives in her name and for all those lost in July... do you think that counts as the breach of her ideals and memory he was so afraid of committing all along?

But could Vash really have been expected to stay with Knives when Knives took every opportunity to pull up a wall between them? Was Vash really in any state to have helped Knives the way Knives so desperately needed? I think, honestly, that this was a bit of an unfair request for Rem to make of Vash. But what else could she do?

She knew she probably wasn't going to make it out of there. She knew Knives wasn't ok. She may have even known that it was Knives who caused the Fall in the first place. But more than any of that, she knew that neither of these boys were ready to be left all alone in this world that they were both still so desperately afraid of.

I find it fascinating that Rem phrased it as "Don't leave Knives on his own" rather than "make sure you and Knives stick together" or that sort of thing. No matter how you look at it, it does appear to put responsibility on Vash for Knives, rather than a mutual "look out for each other" request. I have a suggestion for why she might've said this instead of the more mutual alternative.

We know Knives did not get any of the healing that he needed, and Rem was aware of this. He was keeping it all inside, and rapidly walling himself off. Rem, faced with the reality that she didn't have enough time to offer him the support that he needed, can only hope that he wouldn't close himself off from the one other person who had a chance of understanding him. Knives can't be alone, or he will spiral even worse.

And Vash? Well, I think it's easy to say that he was in a better place mentally than Knives, and while that may have been the case, it still doesn't mean he was in any way "recovered" from that trauma; how could one be? The only thing Rem promised him was that they would see the world together - that she would show him that the world wasn't full of terrible people. But they never actually got to do that - Vash was a suicidal child hanging onto her hopeful words and the emotional honesty she'd shown him thus far as a reason to keep trying, as a promise - and now, Rem finds herself having to break it. So, what will keep Vash going when she's gone? Having someone to look out for might do it, especially since young Vash is already shown in the flashbacks to be very "other" focused - note his other directed speech when speaking to Rem, and the way he seems more comfortable around Conrad when he shows acceptance of Knives. Rem probably knew that Vash was far more likely to look out for himself, paradoxically, if he had someone else to look out for.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun and Trigun Maximum. The first is from Trigun Volume 2, and shows young Vash with arms outstretched, his back to the reader, looking at Rem, hands in her pockets and smiling. They are against a white background, as young Vash says "Rem! Rem! I want to stay with you! You won't be all alone!" The second is from Trigun Maximum Volume 7, and shows young Knives, who quietly says "Ah," as he starts to cry. Young Vash approaches and puts his arm around Knives neck, who is still sobbing. He smiles and says "Thank you Mr. Conrad." End ID.]

Rem's last words, then, were intended to a) make sure Knives would have someone who could stick with him and help him where she didn't have the time to, and b) provide Vash with a purpose so that he will keep himself going.

Unfortunately, this didn't work at all the way she'd intended. Knives' unintentional killing of Rem (and I stand by the notion it was unintentional) messed him up even worse and forced him to fully take on the stance of hatred against all humanity in order to cope with the guilt, throwing a huge wedge between him and Vash, so stricken by grief and blindsided by his brother's actions that he'd throw himself into trying to be as much like (ideal) Rem, and as little like Knives, as possible. Knives spends the story desperately wanting Vash (or his ideal of him anyways) to stay with him in order to cure the loneliness he feels from being all alone, and Vash spends the story eternally guilt-ridden, taking on the blame and responsibility for his brother's actions.

And the tragedy to me is that you can't say any of this was for a lack of Rem trying. She just didn't have enough time to minimize the damage caused by the trauma of Tesla and her discovery. She just wanted them to at least have each other, and that... was the only thing, asides from "don't say you'd rather die", that she actually asked of Vash. Fucked up!!!

#storyrambles #aughhh #trigun #trimax #trigunbookclub #rem saverem #millions knives #vash the stampede #trigun meta

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get-lost-in-fanfiction · 6 months ago

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Ghost - Oneshot

Paring: lil bit of Sawyer x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Okay, so this isn't any of the things I have promised in the past couple of days, but I am working on them!! I just needed a small break and made this :) I hope you can forgive me. Expect L-AS soon!

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It’s hard to be liked. Something about it made your skin crawl whenever someone looked at you in a friendly way. You didn’t feel like you deserved it very much, especially by people who knew you the most. So when you crashed on a remote island with a whole plane full of strangers, it made you happy. Not the crashing part, and certainly not the stranded part where there was no hope to be rescued. That part gave you anxiety attacks nearly every night since the first when the whole group of you heard something that sounded very dangerous in the jungle.

Word got around that there was this crazy French chick living somewhere in the jungle that hadn’t been rescued for something like 16 years. That part made you feel even more uneasy about the people around you. Would you actually have to get to know them? How long until you were rescued, and then would have to go back to all the people who used to know you? Then you’d be in the spotlight, with people who know you and those who don’t. Surely, the world knew about your missing plane by now. It had been several weeks with no rescue or word of anyone anywhere knowing where you were.

So, you grit your teeth and try your best to converse with those who attempt to approach you. Which wasn't a lot of people, by the way. A few did, the doctor who was named Jack and the supposed leader of your little band of survivors. His “girlfriend,” Kate, who never seemed to want to stay on the beach for any extended amount of time. Well, really, she didn't want to be anywhere for very long. Which was pretty stupid, you thought, since you were all stranded here. She might as well make the most of it. This big guy named Hurley, who you actually thought was pretty okay and spent some time with him when you were off brooding alone on some far off portion of the beach. Lastly, the one person who didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t much for conversion was the self-named outcast of the Island, Sawyer.

You didn’t know very much about Sawyer, and you quite liked it that way. You did know that he was a hoarder and had a particular habit of calling everyone by various nicknames based on the way they looked, the things they did, or their ethnic background. The man was an enigma, wrapped in a southern drawl and a bad attitude. He had a knack for getting under everyone's skin, but somehow, he didn't bother you as much. Maybe it was because he didn't seem to expect anything from you. His nickname for you was Ghost, but you didn’t really care about that. However, it made a lot of sense. You moved through the group like a shadow, present but not really there, detached from the bonds forming among the other survivors.

You often “haunted” a spot on the beach that was a little rockier than where the rest of the camp was. It was closer to the jungle, too, so it was a good spot to not be bothered since most of the scaredy cats of the beach didn’t want to go anywhere near it. Those who remained on the beach after Jack took a group to the caves, anyway. The jungle seemed quieter today. The usual noise of birds and rustling leaves had died down to a gentle hum. You could almost convince yourself that it was peaceful if you didn't know better. Peaceful was the last thing this island was. At least you could deal with the background noise.

You sat on the edge of a rock overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, and you let yourself get lost in their repetitive motion for a moment. It was easier than thinking about the reality of your situation. Easier than acknowledging the gnawing fear in the pit of your stomach that you might never leave this place. The fear was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, but you had gotten good at pushing it down, focusing instead on the mundane tasks of survival. The panic attacks had subsided for the most part, and when they got bad, you had Jack to give you something for it. Even if it meant hauling yourself all the way to the caves in the middle of the night for a scolding and a pill.

As you sat there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn to look, already knowing who it was by the sound of his stride. Sawyer had a way of moving that was both lazy and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world but knew exactly where he was going.

"Hey, Ghost," he drawled, plopping down beside you on the rock. "You plannin' on hauntin' this spot all day, or you got somethin' better to do?"

You gave him a sidelong glance, not bothering to respond. He didn't seem to mind your silence. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. There was a mutual understanding between you two, a shared recognition that sometimes, words were unnecessary. But lately, your stomach did a little flip that made you actually want to say something, even if you really didn’t know what.

"Word's gettin' around about the French chick," he said after a moment, eyes scanning the horizon. "Sixteen years is a hell of a long time to be stuck here. Makes you wonder what she's been doin' all this time. How she's survived."

You nodded, the thought making your stomach twist. Sixteen years. Could you last that long? Would you want to? Hell, you were just beginning to forget that whole thing. At least until you heard chattering about Sayid all over again and what he heard out in the jungle with her. You really didn’t want to keep thinking about it, but it was continually thrown into your mind without your consent.

"Maybe she's got it figured out," Sawyer continued. "Maybe she's just as screwed up as the rest of us. Who knows?"

You turned to look at him then, seeing the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. It was rare to see him vulnerable, and it struck you that beneath all his pretension, he was just as scared as everyone else. Maybe more. It only made your affection for him make any sort of sense.

"Guess we'll find out eventually," you said, surprising yourself with the sound of your own voice. It was rough, unused to speaking. Sawyer glanced at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to read your thoughts, and that idea made you sick.

"Guess we will, Ghost. Guess we will." Sawyer's presence was oddly comforting. The man was like a storm, loud and turbulent, but you’d learned that storms could also be strangely soothing in their predictability.

He always had something to say, some snarky comment or observation that cut through the oppressive silence of the island. The conversation dwindled, replaced by a comfortable silence. The waves continued their relentless assault on the shore, a reminder of nature's indifference. You let your eyes wander over the horizon, the vast expanse of water that both imprisoned and sustained you. Each wave felt like a promise and a threat, a dual reminder of hope and despair. A sudden rustling in the nearby jungle snapped you back to reality. Your heart rate spiked, your body tensing instinctively. Sensing your shift, Sawyer turned his head slightly but didn't rise from his spot.

"Relax," he said, his voice calm. "It's probably just a boar or somethin'."

You forced yourself to breathe, trying to quell the surge of panic. It was just the jungle, just another part of this bizarre and hostile environment. Nothing to be afraid of, at least not right now. The rustling ceased, and you willed your muscles to relax. Sawyer stretched out his legs, leaning back on his elbows, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to your unease.

"You ever think about what you'll do if we get off this rock?" he asked suddenly, his tone light but his eyes serious. The question caught you off guard. You hadn't allowed yourself to think that far ahead. The present was difficult enough without contemplating a future that seemed increasingly unlikely. Still, you pondered his question, letting it roll around in your mind.

"Not really," you admitted. "I guess I’d just go back to… whatever I was doing before."

Sawyer chuckled, a dry, humorless sound, "Yeah, that’s the trick, ain’t it? Going back. As if we could just pick up where we left off. Truth is, I don’t think any of us can go back to the way things were."

You considered his words. He was right, of course. The experience of being stranded on this island had changed you all in ways you couldn't fully understand yet. There was no going back, only forward, whatever that might mean. So you decided to respond, "And you?" you asked, more out of curiosity than politeness. "What would you do?"

He shrugged a nonchalant gesture that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Guess I'd do what I do best. Find trouble, cause trouble, get out of trouble."

There was a glimmer of something in his expression—sadness, maybe, or resignation. It was hard to tell with Sawyer. He hid behind so many layers of sarcasm and whatever else seemed to always permeate his mood that it was difficult to see the real person underneath. You returned your gaze to the ocean, the waves continuing their ceaseless dance. The conversation, as brief and superficial as it had been, left you feeling a little more grounded. Maybe that was Sawyer's gift. He cut through the pretense and forced you to confront things you’d rather avoid.

"Thanks," you said quietly, not entirely sure what you were thanking him for. Sawyer glanced at you, a puzzled look crossing his face before he smirked.

"Don’t mention it, Ghost,” was all he said. The two of you sat in companionable silence, the sounds of the island filling the space between you.

It felt almost like you were back in the real world for a moment, just two people passing time together. It was a small comfort, but small comforts meant everything in a place like this. The two of you sat there for a while, watching the waves and listening to the distant calls of the jungle. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, a rare and precious thing. With Sawyer, you didn’t feel pressured to fill the void with meaningless chatter. He didn’t push you to talk, and you didn’t feel the need to pretend.

Eventually, he stood up and stretched, the sun casting long shadows on the sand. "Well, Ghost, I guess I’ll be headin' back to camp. See if I can stir up some trouble."

You nodded, remaining seated on the rock. "See you around, Sawyer."

He gave you a mock salute and sauntered off, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. The peace he brought lingered even after he left, a small buffer against the overwhelming uncertainty of your situation. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you took a deep breath and tried to hold onto the calm. The island was unpredictable, and peace was fleeting. But for now, you had a moment of quiet, a rare gift in this place of chaos and fear. The darkness encroached slowly, and you knew you’d have to head back to the camp eventually. The nights were the hardest when the sounds of the jungle grew louder and more menacing. But you felt a little stronger now, a little more capable of facing whatever the island threw at you next.

You stood up and made your way back, the path familiar under your feet. The camp was buzzing with activity, survivors preparing for the night. Jack was tending to someone near the fire. You thought it was interesting since his patients usually saw him in his cave office, not here on the beach. His brow furrowed in concentration. Kate was nearby, her restless energy evident even in her stillness. Hurley was talking animatedly with someone who you think is called Charlie and Sayid, of course. You knew him. Hurley’s laughter was a bright spot in the dimming light. All of their eyes reflected firelight as they watched Hurley tell what seemed to be a very entertaining story. As you approached, Hurley looked up and waved. You managed a small smile and waved back. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your place here among these strangers who were becoming something like friends.

"Hey!" Hurley called out along with your name. It made you cringe slightly to hear anyone say your name with such affection. "You wanna join us for dinner? We managed to catch some fish."

You hesitated for a moment, the familiar discomfort rising. But then you remembered the peace of the afternoon, the sense of connection you’d felt with Sawyer. Maybe it was time to take a small step forward. "Sure," you said, walking over to join them. "Sounds good."

The night passed with stories and laughter, the fire casting warm light on the faces around you. For the first time since the crash, you felt a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, you could belong here. The island was still a place of danger and uncertainty, but you were beginning to see that it was also a place where you could find strength and maybe even a sense of belonging. As you settled into your makeshift bed that night, you found that the anxiety that usually clawed at your mind was a little quieter. You closed your eyes and let the sound of the waves lull you to sleep, a small smile on your lips. The island had taken so much, but it had also given you something unexpected: a chance to rediscover yourself and find connections in the most unlikely places. And for now, that was enough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!

#james “sawyer” ford x reader #james ford x reader #saywer ford x reader #oneshots #reader oneshots

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ottertooferswriting · 1 year ago

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BG3 Fic Teaser AstarionxHalsinxTav: Stay at Camp

Blood was a scent that Halsin was familiar with on an intimate level. More recently that of goblin, druid, tiefling and gnoll. His senses lately were all but flooded with the acrid, metallic tang. He couldn’t seem to escape it. Random memories from his time in the wretched cave prison he had been kept in still came roaring back from time to time; whenever the particular combination of rot, filth and drying pools of red so dark it nearly became black hit his nose.

In the week that he had spent trailing after the camp of the unturned, unable to fully join their circle but still welcomed to spend his time amongst them the scent had been fleeting. But still present. Each time those who had been selected for their skills needed for that day came back bloodied from their exploits he could tell how badly each had been wounded.

The lingering copper and sulfur and magic from whatever or whomever they had slain was not terribly pleasant, but everyone bathed in a timely manner the moment they could. It faded quickly enough to a muted, background hum. On all but one.

Pale of skin and pale of hair, lovely in form and face and sharp of tongue. The elf always smelled of blood. He couldn’t seem to shake the scent any more than Halsin could. But the way it clung to his scent like an old lover or perhaps an old enemy; engrained so deeply it likely would never leave was uncommon. Unusual even amongst those who claimed killing as their profession.

If he didn’t know better, knew the limitations of a particular brand of monster who had very similar traits to the quick witted and contrary companion Tav kept, Halsin would have been inclined to think him a vampire. But the small details such as walking about in broad daylight and lack of aversion to running water amongst other things dissuaded such lines of thought. And yet. The scent of blood remained. Fleeting glimpses of what might have been fangs taunted Halsin’s vision.

---

BG3 Has Consumed my literal Soul. I love these characters an absolutely normal amount. First post to tumblr in many a year, looking forward to getting back into the swing of things. I do writing commissions both spicy and sfw for a variety of fandoms, willing to do OC's x Canon's ect.

Info post for commissions live now and pinned.

TBC. Chapters will go up on Patreon first then come to AO3\Tumblr two weeks later on average.

Ch1 is up both here and A03 now word count 6.8k currently.

here is link to full chapter.

#bg3 #astarion #halsin #tav #named tav #astarion x tav #astarion x halsin #astarion x halsin x tav #pining #spoilers for act 1 bg3 #original character #my writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #writing commissions #teaser #halstarion

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tamurilofrivendell · 2 years ago

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Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 14

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13]

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan, @rebleforkicks, @yjrevolution, @majahu, @honey-wine, @accio-boys, @achromaticerebus, @solomonssimp, @tired-ass-show-girl, @dreamlessnight

The next few days passed slowly but not uncomfortably as you began to get used to your new normal. A guard was no longer posted outside your room but you’d heard that there were a few extra stationed at the entrance... which you supposed was expected considering how easily you had been able to slip out into the forest that night after Thranduil scared you. You hoped nobody had gotten into trouble for you escaping like that.

You spent your time in the library that Thranduil had taken you to. You had been cautious at first, worried that it was all part of some elaborate ruse, however you had relaxed as the time passed. You spent a lot of your time curled up in the corners of the library itself, lost in whatever book you had picked up that day, finding in between those pages a sense of solace and freedom for the first time since you found yourself stuck here.

The time when you were not in the library, you were usually with Myleth or walking around exploring... tentatively of course. However, you had not actually seen the King since the night he allowed you access to the library and you thought that, with some more luck, you wouldn’t see him again. Maybe he would forget all about you and you could blend into the background of his kingdom, living out the rest of your days in exactly the way you were now. Though, you couldn't fully shake how... nice it had been of him to allow you access to this lifeline of a room.

Legolas had been in the forest for the last few days with Tauriel and the rest of their group, destroying a spider nest that had reappeared almost overnight. He felt better about leaving you there now that his father seemed to have relaxed just a little since his recovery. He felt secure enough in the knowledge that his father wouldn’t throw you in the prison again at least. Legolas was also pleased that his father had recovered from the poison, though the speed with which it had affected him worried him - was this something new from Mordor? Still, things were better for now so Legolas could focus fully on destroying the spiders and scouting the woods, keeping the border of the Realm safe.

The group were travelling back to the palace and would hopefully be back in another day and a half. Tauriel turned to him during their final camp set up, the two of them being on watch while the others rested. “Do you think he is really going to keep her here forever?” She asked, having been working up the courage to get the words out. Sometimes Tauriel didn’t know quite how to take the King. She knew that he favoured her, yet he did not seem accepting of Legolas’ obvious feelings for her. She respected him as a King but she did not always agree with him... in fact, Tauriel often found she disagreed with him but she was not in a position to disobey like Legolas could sometimes get away with.

He sighed, shrugging as he fiddled with a stick between his fingers, thoughtful. “I have honestly given up trying to understand the inner workings of my father’s mind.” Though he did think that he was actually pretty good at understanding his father and his... complications. “I do not see him keeping her prisoner forever.” He said after a pause. “It is not his way.”

“He seemed to be pretty set on it.” She couldn’t help but mutter, gaining a look from Legolas but he always appreciated whatever Tauriel had to say to him. He liked that she didn’t hold back because of who he was and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. "She does not deserve to be a prisoner at all."

“Trust me, Tauriel. She will not be here forever.” He assured her, though he found himself feeling ever so slightly sad about it. He had come to see you as something close to a friend already. Legolas liked you and thought that you were a person of true kindness and strength. You had given your freedom for your father’s and again for his own. You had shown his father kindness where nobody would have blamed you for not doing so. Something about your actions had even seemed to get through to his father in some way, though he knew the King was loath to show it, but after being graced with yours he had shown his own kindness in return.

“Did you hear that?” Tauriel’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts. Legolas became alert again at once, various voices reaching his ears from a distance away. He glanced at Tauriel, who was already up on her feet, and nodded as the two of them crept away from the camp to find the source.

The library was quiet, peaceful, as the night descended. The curtains at the large window that stood in between some bookcases were open but you couldn’t see much of the sky from here unfortunately. You wished you could see the stars again, even just once. Sighing, you turned back to the book in your hands, getting lost once more in the words. You had stayed quite late here tonight, not feeling able or ready to sleep. You had even missed dinner, choosing instead to stay in here and hide away in your beloved words.

When the door opened, you jumped, startled by the sudden noise. Looking up, you expected to see Myleth having sought you out with a tray of food much like she had done the first night you’d come here. Instead, you met the King’s steely gaze once more. Surprise instantly flooded you as you stared at him. He kind of stared back at you for a long moment before he walked towards you, setting a tray down on the floor. “A servant was on her way with this. Apparently you have not yet eaten despite it being so late.”

He probably meant Myleth so you just nodded, though wondered why he would now be here instead of her, but you didn’t question him. It almost felt like he was telling you off for skipping meals but you decided you were being ridiculous to even entertain the notion that he would care. You tentatively reached out and popped a berry in your mouth, wanting to look like you were grateful and not just completely confused and intimidated by his presence.

You were both quiet for another long few moments before Thranduil started moving again, his long legs carrying him across the room. Your shoulders relaxed as you let out a tiny breath of relief. However, he did not move to the door as you had expected and hoped. Instead he made his way towards a bookcase where you knew from your exploration that all the books were in Elvish, plucked one from the shelf, and moved to sprawl out in a large armchair on the other side of the room. All you could do was stare at him, wide eyed, as he studied the page of the book in his lap as though you no longer existed. It seemed that he was intending to stay here... with you.

Swallowing down your uneasiness, you forced your gaze away from him and back down to the book, though you now found that you were completely unable to focus on anything at all, the words on the page as jumbled as your thoughts had become.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfic #beauty and the beast

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ithinkyouhealedmyheart · 19 days ago

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89 for JaLyn 👉👈 🥺

You got:

I do not apologize for the amount of Drake Bell songs on my wrapped playlist, but you have been warned.

"I'm in love with Lynette!"

James covered his mouth, and his eyes widened. This didn't come as a surprise to his friends. They knew the brunette's feelings for the Kat's Crew dancer. The singer bent backward for her unintentionally, or maybe it was intentional. James spent most of his time with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, but now his time is divided between his friends and Lynette. He takes every excuse to see her.

"Okay?" Logan didn't look up from his homework.

"Aren't you guys going to gasp or say this is sacrilegious because Kat's Crew was brought on to replace us?" James pouted and crossed his arms. "I'm like Romeo announcing his love for Juliet."

"Dude, you are not star-crossed lovers." Kendall was lying on the orange couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

"Not true! Our bands will never get along, and it'll tear our love to shreds!" James put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically.

The door to 2J squeaked open, and James snapped his head towards the door. He grinned when he saw Lynette standing there. Her purple cropped leather jacket was his favorite article of clothing she owned since his favorite color was purple, but it was stylish.

"There's an event at the boardwalk, and Ronnie is busy, apparently." She shot Kendall a sarcastic glare. "James, do you want to come with me?"

"Us? Alone?" James swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Alone? No, Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay are coming too, but it's not like we'll be in this massive group. Kat's mom has a lot of room in her minivan." Lynette leaned against the doorway.

James didn't bother grabbing a jacket as he practically raced out of the apartment. Lynette stayed behind momentarily, trying to process how fast the brunette moved.

"Nothing below the waist," Kendall commented with a knowing look.

"What does that- " Lynette's shoulders scrunched up, and she shut the door quickly.

James was practically squished against the door with Lynette at his side. Kat rode in the front because it was her mom's van. Jay Jay and Shay were glued to their phones while Lynette bobbed her head to the faint sound of music playing over the radio. James had not interacted with Kat's Crew since their first interaction when Gustavo pitted them against each other to take his last remaining slot. Of course, Gustavo would never give up on Big Time Rush. He wanted to scare them because no one was taking this seriously.

He learned from Ronnie that Kat's Crew had left Hawk Records, and Griffin welcomed the girls back to Rocque Records with open arms. Lynette was a background singer, but her strength was dancing. She preferred it compared to singing with the other three girls. James couldn't understand why someone would like dancing better than singing, but he would never ask her why if it seemed like he was judging her.

For some reason, the brunette wasn't expecting the boardwalk to be crowded. He didn't know what to expect when he heard about the carnival. Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay separated from the group when they left the car, leaving Lynette and James. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He squeaked when she took his hand and led him through the crowds. Even if it wasn't anything more than platonic, James couldn't deny holding hands with her made him happy. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach.

Lynette didn't mind the crowds. She mentally prepared herself for the number of people on the car ride. Holding James' hand was a way to ground herself. It was also just lovely to hold his hand. It fit in hers like a puzzle piece.

"Oh! Let's go here!"

She pointed to one of the stalls, and her eyes lit up. It was one of those stalls where the objective was to pop as many balloons as possible. James was a bit uneasy, but he walked over with her. He could have been better at these types of games back home. There were far too many stuffed animal prizes he could never win. But, for some reason, he was determined to win something.

He gave the carney the money in exchange for three darts, which felt heavy in his hand. If Logan had been there, he would have said the darts were weighted, and the game was rigged, but James was a bit naive. With Lynette watching, he felt even more nervous. What if he screwed up? What if he hit her with one of the darts? What if he hit himself with one of the darts instead? He took a shaky breath and threw the first dart.

The balloon pop was like an explosion, and it startled him. He threw the other two darts with a bit more confidence than before. One of them managed to pop two balloons, which seemed like they could have been more logistically possible, but James wasn't the logical one. He got to choose one of the prizes and noticed how intently Lynette was staring at that big, fluffy dog.

The girl squealed when he handed her the large German Shepard. She giggled and hugged it to her chest.

"This is awesome! Thank you!"

"Yeah, of course!" The singer coughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. Could she see him blushing?

#spotify link #spotify wrapped prompt challenge #wrapped prompt challenge #prompt challenge #music #song #james diamond #btr #btr oc #btrtv #btrtv oc #big time rush #big time rush oc #oc: lynette smith #the song gave me carnival vibes okay

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the73rdpostscript · 11 months ago

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Tell me again about No Sleep Till JoeNicky - 7 - nice version and also tell me about aaaaahhhhhhh

(I know you know the background of this fic, but since most people don't I'm just gonna explain it.)

I'm writing a modern au where Joe develops really bad insomnia and discovers that the only way he can get some sleep is if he's sleeping...next to Nicky. He doesn't like Nicky but he REALLY needs to sleep before his big art show so they have to make it work and oh my GOSH wouldn't you know it they fall in love.

The first draft of this fic had Joe acting too rude for too long without adequate reason. I was essentially half-assing an enemies to lovers when the vibe of the story was just cutesy romcom stuff and it didn't work at all - even though I had some really fucking good scenes in there if I do say so myself.

So right now the story is being reformatted so that Joe is less of an asshole and the climax of the fic is no longer the two of them being vulnerable and apologizing to each other at a sleep clinic.

So since the sleep clinic climax isn't happening I'm gonna just share it here. It's a very long section but I really like what I had.

So....enjoy a massive amount of writing that is now totally irrelevant!

“I need to sleep! I want to sleep! And ideally I would be able to do that away from you!” Joe shouts.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Across from him, Nicky has gone completely still - mouth pinched shut and eyes shifting from hurt to distant so quickly Joe would miss it if he hadn’t spent the last week looking into those same eyes every morning and every night.

“Then it seems we have no more need to keep up the charade, as you called it.” Nicky says quietly. He might as well be sitting in an office meeting with strangers.

“Nicky, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“I’d like you to leave now.” Joe thought he had heard the worst of Nicky’s coldness during the first fight they ever had. The ice in Nicky’s voice now would have shredded him that first day. It’s all he can do to look at Nicky long enough to nod and turn away.

He walks home, even though his hands are shaking and his legs feel weak. The cold air is an unpleasant sensation and he thinks he might be in trouble if it’s still better than the feeling he has after that fight.

When he gets home he walks past Nicky's shortbread and eats leftover takeout that smells questionable at best.

Maybe there was something to his false bravado about not needing Nicky, because after an hour of crying to himself he falls asleep on his couch, alone.

The next day he can barely get any work done, and the Nicky painting sits in the corner, staring at him as he struggles with the other canvas – the one he was so close to finishing yesterday.

Around dinnertime, Quynh sends him an email with the options for an appointment at the sleep clinic – detailing the merits of the place, and asking for a response when he’s able. When they’re able actually. Nicky is the other recipient of the email, and though he hasn’t responded with his availability yet, Joe knows he’s seen it.

Nicky is always checking his phone – Joe’s seen him do it so many times he could paint the gesture from every angle. He would want to do one from just behind, and capture the privacy of the moment from over Nicky’s shoulder, highlighting the angle of his nose as the screen lights it up, and the clench of his jaw that he never seems to notice. Maybe Nicky would sleep better if he looked at his phone less.

The email stares up at him from his phone, and Quynh’s impatience is clear in every perfectly chosen word. There are implications there: Quynh and Nicky have spoken since last night, or Andy and Nicky. Maybe Nicky didn’t say anything and Quynh saw his mood at lunch. She’s been suspiciously quiet towards Joe since this whole thing started and it hasn’t escaped Joe’s notice that Andy introduced her to Joe after she was already friends with Nicky.

Joe’s pulse spikes at the idea of losing Quynh or Andy over this. But then he remembers the time that Booker almost hit Joe outside the nightclub, and the time that Andy disappeared for a week in the middle of her own wedding preparations. Joe doesn’t make friends with people who would turns him away over a single fight. Even if he feels like he might deserve it right now.

None of this matters in the moment, however. Joe had asked for a solution to his sleep problem that doesn’t include Nicky, and that’s what’s being offered.

With a sigh, he sends back his availability, and he only barely resists throwing his phone when Nicky responds less than a minute later with his own confirmation of a date that will work.

Before he can stop himself, Joe opens a text message to Nicky, and he gets halfway through his first sentence before he realizes that he doesn’t know what he could say that would even start to address everything that’s happened so far.

Instead he shuts his phone and pulls out an old canvas he once left half finished out of sheer annoyance. He paints until the sun comes up, and then he paints some more.

The sleep clinic is small. Joe only sees two assistants and one clinician. The assistants have Joe fill out forms when he arrives, perched awkwardly on a plastic chair next to Nicky.

Between the staff’s polite and distant demeanor, and Nicky’s stoic compliance, Joe feels like he’s alone in the room. It isn’t until they’re asked to detail what’s been going on that he feels a semblance of normalcy.

“So that’s why we’re here to see you,” Joe finishes, having taken point on explaining the situation.

The clinician behind the desk looks at Nicky. “Anything to add?”

Nicky shrugs, “Joe covered it all more or less accurately. I have been struggling with sleep for longer than him, but sleeping beside him has let me sleep regularly and more easily.”

“How much longer have you had trouble sleeping?” The clinician asks, looking down at Nicky’s chart.

Joe watches the lines of Nicky’s shoulder lift – tension clear in his jaw, “I don’t think that’s relevant.”

The clinician responds coolly, “I can’t help you without the proper background information.”

Glancing at Joe, Nicky lets out a sigh, “I stopped sleeping well in my late teenage years.”

Joe tries not to visibly respond, but he can feel his mouth drop open. Beside him, Nicky seems to tense more - as if he can sense Joe’s reaction.

“Any idea what caused the change?”

“I don’t think Nicky needs to share that,” Joe says, speaking before he thinks about it. The idea of Nicky being asked to tell a strangers details that he hasn’t even been able to tell Joe after a week of sleeping in the same bed feels inappropriate at best. This was not a part of his plans to get some sleep.

If Nicky has anything to say about the interruption, he doesn’t get the chance as the clinician addresses Joe, “We are not mind readers Mr. Al-Kaysani. We can’t tell you what is going on with you if we don’t have context for the things you’re experiencing.”

“That may be true, but Nicky didn’t want to share any of this with me before, and I don’t-“

“Nothing changed,” Nicky interrupts Joe with all the calm that Joe can’t feel, “I could not even guess why I stopped sleeping. I’m sorry if that hinders any part of this study.” Something in his voice sounds off, but the clinician doesn’t seem to notice as she nods.

“Okay. Well thank you for telling us what you could. I can’t promise any results tonight, but we will do our best with what we get.”

As the woman rises from her chair, Joe turns to look at Nicky. The other man is gathering his coat and his bag – avoiding Joe’s eyes.

It’s all Joe can do not to grab him and ask him if he still wants to do this at all.

When they’re led into a room with two twin beds, Nicky still isn’t looking at Joe.

They were directed to put on their own sleepwear before they came in, and Joe notices that the shirt Nicky picked is different than the worn out ones he usually wears to bed. Joe himself is wearing sweatpants that he normally works out in, and he isn’t even close to feeling relaxed as they get into their respective beds.

The woman speaks over the intercom to them, instructing them to try and sleep but not to feel pressure. They have time, according to her.

For a few minutes, Joe and Nicky lay in silence.

“Quynh didn’t come,” Joe observes at last, “I thought she might.”

“Her meeting ran late,” Nicky responds, voice stiff.

And with that, they return to silence.

Another few minutes pass by, and Joe knows they can’t have been there long, but he’s distinctly aware of how slow time is moving based on how loud Nicky’s breathing feels – uneven and overwhelming over the distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” Joe says, suddenly.

In the silence, Nicky’s breathing has changed, “Scusi?”

“I’m sorry that they asked you about your past, and that you have to be here at all. This wasn’t where I thought we’d end up.”

For a long time they lay in silence.

“Where did you think we’d end up?” Nicky asks.

Joe opens and closes his mouth several times before Nicky shifts in his bed and says, “We should try counting down again.” The lights of the room are dim but not completely dark and Joe can see Nicky laying stiffly under the sheets – looking as uncomfortable as Joe feels.

“Alright. 10, 9, 8,”

Nicky joins him on 7, and this time Joe is still awake when he gets to 1, so he hears Nicky’s voice slow down and drop off during the countdown. For a moment the only sound in the room is the unnatural hum of a different air system, and the steady inhaling and exhaling of Nicky’s sleep.

The clinician wakes Joe up, and after a moment of feeling disoriented, he looks over at where Nicky is already sitting up – waiting for one of the assistants to finish pulling the sensors off his face.

“Did you find anything?” Joe asks the clinician, not bothering to let her say anything before he sits up and reaches to help her pull the sensors off.

She catches his hands and tells him to be patient and to relax a moment, but he only lowers his hands and asks, “Did you get what you needed?”

“We got what we needed, but I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed with what we discovered.”

Joe can’t see Nicky’s face but he can feel the tension radiating off of him.

The clinician steps back to more clearly address them both as she says, “We’ve confirmed that there’s nothing unusual about your physical readings when you sleep beside each other. There’s nothing specific going on biologically that we can point to right now.”

Joe wants to scream. “What does that mean?”

For the first time all night, the woman looks a little soft as she addresses him, “It means I don’t have any answers for you, Mr. Al-Kaysani.”

"So why cant I sleep without him?" He can’t stop himself from asking.

The woman gives him a patient look as she responds, "It could be any number of things. External or internal. Rhythms of your apartment, lack of sound, a pet, nightmares, anxiety-"

Joe doesn’t know why, but the very word makes him choke. “Are you saying that being without Nicky gives me anxiety?" Before he finishes the question he’s looking over at Nicky, and Nicky turns to look back. His face is intense and his gaze unwavering. It’s the expression he made the night that they talked about his nightmares – scared and determined and so unbelievably vulnerable that it makes Joe choke on the last word. Something in Nicky’s jaw ticks, and Joe wonders about it for a moment before Nicky speaks and the moment dissipates.

"Impossible. Anyone who feels anxiety when I'm gone has never lost an argument about something as stupid as whether or not [team] will make it to [tournament]."

Joe crushes the urge to argue and takes the offering for what it is, turning to the doctor and asking, "Do you see what I have to put up with?"

The doctor hums and looks down at her chart, "if you don't have any more questions, I'll let you both go. We have all we need for now and you'll get results in your email within a few days."

They leave the lab in relative silence, and as they step out of the doors, Joe asks, “Will you come back to my place?”

Nicky looks startled at the question, and Joe remembers just as suddenly what day it is.

“Oh. Right, you have that thing.”

After a brief look of confusion, Nicky’s expression turns to something that might be either frustrated or fond, “That’s not tonight. I’d be happy to come back to your place.”

The radio keeps them company on the drive back to Joe’s apartment, and it isn’t until they get inside that Joe thinks to ask, “Did you cancel your mystery guests?”

“I did,” Nicky says, sounding tired. For a moment, they stand in the hallway together – Joe leaning against the wall and Nicky with his hands on his hips. They must paint a rather sad picture – half in and half out, of both the apartment and this peace that could be something deeper if they let it. If Joe let it, maybe.

“I’m sorry.”

“So you said,” Nicky replies, one corner of his mouth lifting, “Show me where your kitchen is. I think we both could use something to eat.”

Once Joe’s gotten Nicky acquainted with the space and convinced him to keep the cooking simple, he settles himself the counter he thinks will be least in the way.

“You know don’t have to cook for me. I wouldn’t exactly want to feed me right now after everything.”

“That is why it’s good that you don’t make decisions for me,” Nicky says, digging around in the fridge, “You could do something for me though.”

“What?”

Standing up straight, Nicky turns to meet Joe’s eyes. “Tell me what this has all been about.”

#god i love this fic #mine #raedear #ask

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 1 year ago

Text

Love isn't something you just learn Commander. Part 2

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Words: 14 536 (oopsie)

Warning: Angst, like A LOT OF ANGST, a description of violence, DEATH, a little bit of action, wouldn't call it a smut even. Fluff. Cody being an idiot. ANGST. Bur Fluff as well.

Summary: A lot has happened and Cody realised that maybe things change.

A/N: So it is not editted. I am sorry, maybe I will do it later. I just really wanted to post it :D And I'm not sure I am 100% with the ending. It feels rush. Maybe I will come back one day and re-write. But for now. ENJOY :)

P.S. My Tag List is open to yeah... :D

It was new and scary. The thought itself wasn't really welcoming. You were a stationed medic, not trained to be a field doctor. So when the request came in for you and your team to accompany the Troops on the next mission you weren't sure if that was just some silly mistake.

Of course you were promised to be secured as well as it was possible, but the thought itself wasn't really as welcoming as you'd like it to be. The War was scary and you weren't a soldier. Not one bit, and you never hid that.

"We need some medical support. What we have from the Clones army isn't enough", Obi Wan explained, hoping to find a common ground with you. "We work well with your team. You know Kix and our medic, so both the 212th and 501st would be able to cooperate well with you."

"We're not soldiers, Kenobi" you answered, looking at your closest medics. "Most of my team consists of civilians volunteering to help, with not even any medical background." You stopped and sighed deeply, feeling all the eyes on you. "Are we going to get any basic defense lessons?"

"The first mission starts in three days. We don't have time for that. Most of your people would stay behind as a background help. Only those with more medical experience would be put in front of the battles as a better equipped help." Saying that, his gaze was moved to his soldiers and nodded his head at them, making you frown. "I'm sorry Y/N", your brow raised hearing him say your first name. Manipulative son of a bitch. "I know, you didn't sign up for that, but…"

"I will talk to my people. It is their decision, alright?", he nodded understanding your point. "I will help as much as I can of course. I'm just…" you trailed off, feeling bashful all of a sudden. "I don't want to be a bother if it comes to it."

"You won't be, Doc, trust us." Cody spoke and you turned towards him. It has been almost a month since that fateful talk. You kept your promise to him to be adult about it and to your surprise Cody made sure you felt comfortable around him. What's more, he and you spent more time together than ever. At the beginning he would come for a check up, staying a bit later just to talk. Nothing special, nothing that would make any of you uncomfortable. But with time the two of you noticed that your conversations became more and more fun rather than essential. “We would still prefer to give at least a basic defense training for the medics that would accompany us into an actual field. You included.” You swallowed and nodded. No, you didn’t like that one bit. There was a solid reason why you decided to never become a soldier. You weren’t the physical type of person really. Always keeping your nose in books has made you averse to any physical activities. “Some of my people and a bunch of 501st guys will be happy to teach you guys some basics.” Despite Cody’s soft spoken words you were still not sure about it. But it was War and you promised yourself that you would help the Clones and the Jedi win it in any way possible.

“Let me talk to my team and I will let you know about the final size of the eventual group.” All of them nodded their heads. You could decide for your own, but your people’s lives weren’t yours and they had a right to decide. “I will accompany you, of course, but I will have to leave Garialth here to keep an eye on everything.” Kenobi wasn’t too happy about it, but he understood that someone must stay behind in case and if he was forced to choose, you were still the best possible option. “How much time does my team have to decide?”

“None, really” Rex interjected, sending you one of his apologetic looks. “Even if the smaller medic teams wouldn’t accompany us to the field, we still need to give them a basic military brief. And we leave tomorrow morning so…”

“Give me half an hour?” Rex smiled, thankful for your cooperation. “I need your word, Kenobi, that if any of my men decides to stay here, there will be no consequence.” The Jedi nodded and promised that nothing bad would happen. “And I want to have a way to contact all of the teams that will be made up from my medics.” Another nod and well, you had to give it to Kenobi. After all, he was a negotiator. “Half an hour.”

***

You were proud of your men. There were only a handful of them that didn’t want to join the Troopers. Most of them may have been civilians joining your team, but they have quickly become the true medic team of the War. Even Skywalker and Kenobi were surprised when you gave them the numbers. Yes, you were proud of your men, and even more afraid now. The more joined the field, the bigger probability that more would never come back.

“Come on, Doc.” Cody’s hand on your shoulder shifted your focus onto him. “I’m responsible for your training.”

“Excuse me?” You gaped at him, not believing what you were hearing. “For sure you have some better things to do than that!” He turned and looked at you with a raised brow. He sighed deeply and then you truly looked at him. He was tired, very tired. The rested man that left your hospital bed was long gone and the Cody you knew took his place. The blacks under his eyes were getting bigger, his face despite not showing any emotions gave away more to those that looked closely. You noticed the way he would look for a quiet place more than often, probably due to the headaches that were probably becoming an everyday occurrence in his life now. His sullen cheeks worried you a bit that you have already been taking care of. Whenever he would come to you for a caff or just a talk you always had something to eat. Whether it was something as stupid as a sandwich or even something sweet. But something more than ratio food.

“Keeping you and other medics safe is our priority now.” He smiled softly seeing the way you were looking at him. “Stop analyzing me.”

“I’m not” you pouted and chuckled when he raised his brow at you playfully. You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fine, maybe I am. But can you blame me? You left my hospital looking shiny, like you came right from Kamino and not even a month later you are once again.. Well you…”

“Me?!” He laughed at that and you cursed the little butterflies in your stomach at that sound. It wasn’t often Cody would truly laugh, but when he did, it was the most beautiful sound and you swore you’d do anything just to hear him again. It was like an addiction, when you had it once, you wanted it always.

“You look tired Cody. I know you’re the Marshall Commander but when was the last time you actually rested? I can’t make you train me when I know you could spend that time resting.” He raised his brow at you and you stood your ground, knowing what he was doing. The bastard knew how imitating he was, but you were a head medic of the Coruscant Hospital. You weren’t one for intimidation. And so you crossed your hands and locked eyes with him, making him smirk.

“You are stubborn, has anyone ever told you that?”

“One or two of your brothers”, you shrugged and he rolled his eyes at that, making you smile.

“How about we go through the strategy for this mission, and while you revise it yourself I would close my eyes for a while?” You narrowed your eyes at him but obliged, happy with a somehow compromise. A simple “close my eyes” wasn’t what you initially was aiming for, but when it comes to Cody, you knew it was more than what you were able to get.

"Just a heads up, I'm a very slow reader!" The man chuckled and you were already forming a plan for him to rest as long as possible. Even if it meant reading the damn strategy briefing more times that it was logically necessary.

***

The sound of your angry groans was the only thing that could have been heard for a while now. No matter what you'd do, the damn thing wouldn't work as well as it did for Cody and the bastard seemed too smug about it.

"You won't become an A-class shooter after just an hour, Doc" the little smirk on his lip would normally bring a soft smile to your lips, but you were tired and annoyed. Nothing seemed to work. No matter how you stood, how high or low your arms were, or what direction your feet were facing, you were unable to shoot the damn target.

"Your breath is too hectic", he started, taking a stand next to you. His blaster at a perfect angle with his arm, the stance was just as he showed you, and his eyes never leaving the target. A perfect soldier shooting a perfect 10. "It's like you hate the solemn thought of holding a blaster." You looked at him and bit your lips nervously. He had a point, the first time he gave you the gun to hold, you could feel your hand shaking. You weren't a trained soldier. You were a medic, a doctor, and holding a gun was the last thing you wanted.

"I'm a medic, a doctor," you started, avoiding his eyes. It felt stupid. Here you were in front of a Marshal Commander, a man you lo… you look up to, looking all so weak and pathetic. "I swore to protect people not kill them." Cody frowned and sighed, ignoring the way you flinched at it a little bit.

He never thought of that. He knew training you wouldn't be easy, after all you weren't a trained soldier, bread for it. But he never truly comprehends that your complete lack of skill with a blaster would have another reason, other than just you being unable to do it. He would never have guessed that someone would just be opposed to even holding it and with an actually good reason.

"A gun isn't just for killing," he started, not sure how to go with it. He wasn't good with talks like that, Rex or even Fives would probably have a better go, but you were here with him and his job was to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you safe. And to do it, he needed you to learn the basics of self defense. "It can save people as well. This is how we do it, why we Clones use it." You raised your brow at him but looked at him giving that benefit of a doubt. "Killing is hard and the last result when it comes to humans. This is why the blaster has two options. To stunt and to kill. We may be machines made to win a war but we do not like killing any more than you or other civilians."

"You're not machines!" He smiled at your interruption. He would never admit, but his heart did skip a bit whenever you showed your protective side towards him and his brothers. He would never admit to it, but he liked the way your eyes shine with anger whenever someone spoke wrongly of Clones, he couldn't help but smile at the way your tone gets more serious and your feet stumble with a bit of anger, almost as if to emphasize your words. It's kind of childish, but he still adores it. He doesn't know when that happened, but whenever you speak and defeat them, his heart does this weird thing he never truly understood and he thinks he never will.

"Is that all you got from my speech?" His question, despite being serious, weighs some kind of cheekiness that only Cody would show. "Think of a gun like one of your scalpels and equipment you use to save our lives." He gave you the weapon back and you looked down at it, weighing it in your hand.

It was so warm. From that short time he held it it already became his. She felt different, like his touch on it took away the scary aspect of it. After all, if Cody could hold it and use it, it can't be that bad. Right ?

"How do you feel with a knife?" The question got you off guard. You raised your brow at him and smiled mischievously.

"I did cut you open nicely", your heart skipped a bit with his laugh and you were never more proud of yourself. Cody had one of the most beautiful laughs. Despite him being a clone, you were sure that you would be able to distinguish him from the others with that laugh alone. It was deep and soft at the same time, with that something in it, something mysterious.

"Maybe the gun isn't really your thing after all."

***

"So no knife either?" You felt like crying. Nothing worked. The knife was even worse than the blaster. With the latter, you were at least able to shoot remotely close to the target, with a knife… well it took Cody one simple move to take it away from you. You felt angry and embarrassed and you don't know when you started to cry. "Hey, Doc, are you alright?" The concern in his voice brought a quiet sob from you, which he didn't miss. His hand on your shoulder would have probably brought you comfort if you weren't so mad at yourself right now. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I'm angry", you hissed, throwing away the knife and trying to get rid of the angry tears pouring down your cheeks. "I'm so damn furious at myself." He raised his brows and whether he knew or not, his hand tightened on your shoulder. "We're off on the first mission tomorrow and all I did for the past two days was waste your time. I'm so angry because I'm sure you had better things to do than babysit me around and teach me things I'm so terrible at. You tried so hard and here I am…" you looked up in alarm when you heard a chuckle coming from the man. You expect all the different reactions but not this.

"I'm sorry Doc, I really am… it's just" he composed himself and straightened sending you one of his soft smiles. "I thought you hurt yourself or I worked you off too much and here you are… gosh you really are adorable!" The both of you froze at his words.

From the way his eyes searched anything but you, it was obvious he did not plan on saying it. At least not saying it out loud. You looked away and bit your lip nervously. You must have misheard him, it was impossible that the Marshal Commander Cody saw you as adorable. But it was not the time for that. And so you did all you could to master the most neutral face, like you didn't hear it at all.

"You're tensed", he finally continued when he noticed that words he stumbled didn't have any effect on you. He wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or the complete opposite. "It's like you are already preparing yourself for failure." You rolled your eyes, trying to control your breathing once again. "Here." There was a millisecond of uncertainty, but he picked up your knife and walked behind you, handing you the weapon. "Take it and slowly take a deep breath. Try to feel it in your hand, but empty your mind. Do not associate it with anything rather than just a knife. A blade you used hundreds of times in your entire life." His gloved hand was on yours, the second one protectively on your other arm. "You're holding it so hard, I'm afraid you'll break it", you couldn't help but chuckle, despite the uncontrollable feeling in your stomach, when he moved closer and you could feel him almost leaning on you. "Take a deep breath, Doc. Breath with me. Come on", he turned you around and put your hand on his chest. Despite the inner happiness in seeing him in only his blacks, you really wished he had his chest plate now on. You could feel his muscles from the thin fabric and you did your best to focus on what he wanted you to do.

And so you closed your eyes and listened to the controlled beating of his heart. How his chest would move wu\ith such peace that you envied him for it. "Breath with me. In and out and repeat."

He smiled softly, feeling how you started to drum your fingers on his chest, almost looking for a rhythm that would relax you somehow. He would never guess that you were so stressed. He knew that feeling well. Having the lives of others on your back was enough to make your nights sleepless. Also the longer the War was taking, the more tired you would become, the more of his brothers would make your life more and more tiring. He knew and saw numerous times how you cared deeply for him and other Clones and he knew that whenever any of them didn't come back it hurt you more and more. And yet you never let it affect you. You always smiled and supported them. You were always there when he or the others needed you. You would send him to get some sleep, not caring about the oh so growing bags under your own eyes. You were way beyond tired, you were exhausted and yet here you were on a way to a mission you really could have said no to. However, you never even thought for a minute about yourself, your main priority was your man. You didn't think twice before saying yes, but your men’s lives weren’t yours to decide. You were not a soldier and yet you were stronger than anyone Cody knew. And he admired it, he watched you since his hospital visit and he couldn't take his eyes off.

In the beginning he would come and talk to you, because he felt bad for the way he reacted to your feelings. But the more he observed, the more time he spent with you, he learned to realize that he actually enjoyed that time. You were such a fun and interesting person, with a lot to talk about. And what he found himself to be waiting for yet another evening he would spend just with you. Talking about the War, politics and the situation of the medic teams. But also about your favorite planet, the language you both would like to learn, about the dish you'd like to try and things you'd never touch and how awful Kenobi's lack of any reason is. He found himself thinking what would you think of the last planet he was on. Would you enjoy it or would you hate it as much as he did. What he learned was that he didn't find it scary that he started to think of you more and more often. And that scared him the most.

"Now open your eyes and just do what I taught you." And to your surprise the knife actually hit the target. Maybe not the actual target per se, but it stuck into the oval plate, which was a much better outcome than the other tries before. You gasped surprised and looked up at Commander smiling widely. You were so excited about the outcome of your last throw that you didn't realize how close you were to the man. His hands were still on you, his body closer than before. "Good girl." He murmured and it was then you realized. The praise never left him before and it was so unexpected that you had to stiffen the little moan trying to escape. Was he doing it on purpose, did he know what he did to you? Could you even dream to think that maybe you had a small effect on him as well? "Now let's see if that would work on the blaster as well." He took a step back and removed his hands from yours, putting the practice blaster in the same place the knife was just seconds ago. "Just like you did before take a deep breath."

You tried your best to concentrate and remember the feeling just before you threw the knife. But your mind was blank,completely. Your body felt cold and stiff again and you missed it. Miserably. You looked away afraid to see disappointment in his eyes.

"Again", you flinched a little bit, unsure if it was the Commander voice he used on you now, or you were just being paranoid. "Relax, Doc. You're stiff and awkward again. Take a deep breath, just like I showed you."

You weren't sure what it was that made you say it. Was it the overwhelming feeling or failure that you wanted to end. Or just a reminder of his hands on yours, the dream you know that would never come true. The reminder of him behind you, so close that could feel his heartbeat. The same heart you saved weeks ago. The heart of the man you were so desperately feeling in love with and you couldn't help it.

"Would you remind me, please?" Cody's eyes widened, hearing your quiet and soft question. You still weren’t looking at him, but he was sure to see your cheeks getting this adorable color of pink. It's not that Cody isn't familiar with women, hell no. He had enough adventures with them when he went to the 79's. But these were emotionless, he always knew what to expect. A night of fun and release and a goodbye before the sunrise. A one night stand. Nothing more, nothing less. But despite it all, he knew when a woman flirted with him. And despite the women in the club being more forward, he was sure that little question was not innocent. Not when you yourself were so flustered.

He felt divided when he stood behind you. He knew that he shouldn't, he didn't want to give you hope that anything could happen between the two of you. He knew he was becoming soft on you, but you weren't like those girls in the club. He didn't want to use those feelings of yours as a way to release his stress. You were so much to him already. So much more than he would dream to accept.

But the other part of him was pulling him towards you. It wanted to be closer to you, to be touched by you and show the most vulnerable parts of himself, he never showed anyone, not even his closest brothers. He wanted to get to know you more and more. And not only on the physical level but the emotional as well, and as scary as it was it was most importantly thrilling. And the more time he spent with you the more time he realized the second voice always won.

And so he grasped your arm in one of his hands, turned you around and pulled you towards him in a way that your back was pressed against his chest. The hand on your arm traveled down to your hand holding the blaster, changing its position to make sure you held it correctly. His other hand was hovered over your hip. "Relax, mesh’la" you shivered slightly hearing his voice so close to your ear. You swallowed hard and did what he asked, ignoring the Mando word you were sure you've heard before in your life. "There, good girl!" Now you were almost sure he was doing it on purpose. There was no way that he was as cruelest as that. You felt so warm and no matter how much you tried, you felt heat on your cheeks and your mouth was getting drier and drier. "Good, deep breath. Close your eyes for a second and relax." You followed his instructions and smiled, actually relaxing with his touch. He smelled amazing as well, like pinetree forest. So fresh and natural and so when you opened your eyes and shot, you actually hit the little disk not too far away from the target.

He turned you around and smiled softly at you. The kind of smile you have never seen. You could see it in his eyes how proud he was of you right now. His other hand joined the first one in your hip and he pulled you closer, closing the distance between the two of you even more. His eyes shifted to your lip and you swallowed, unable to look away from this beautiful, amazing man. As you were about to pull him down by his neck, the loud beeping pulled you two away from each other.

"General", his tone lacked the softness and he was back to being the Commander of 212th. "Yes, we are done here." You felt a weird twist in the stomach when he didn't look at you. "She'll manage when it's necessary", you looked away from him and put the gun away, the feeling getting nastier every second. "Yes, sir. I'm coming" He ended the call and without giving you even a look, walked to his armor and put it on quickly, including the helmet. "Practice what you learned alone. I will send Boil to supervise your progress" and he left, leaving you completely dumbstruck. Without even a glance back, the doors closed behind you and you felt tears in your eyes.

What the hell just happened? There were so many questions in your head now and you weren't sure, you were able to find an answer to any of them. Were you too forward with the request ? If you were, why didn't he say anything? It was him, who pulled you closer, it was him that gave you that look. It was his hand on your hips and it was his smile that lured you towards him. And despite knowing it all, you still felt as if you screwed up. You were standing there searching for a reason why he just left, moving you to someone else, as you were an incompetent shiny.

You cursed when tears started to fall. Why did he just leave? Did he hate you now ? Did you read the room wrong ? The more you thought about it, the more you felt your heart breaking. You thought, damn that, you hoped, that maybe you two were getting closer. You never expected him to return your feelings. You just wanted to be his friend. You just wanted him in your life. And somehow, not even sure how, you screwed it all up.

It was stupid of you to think that someone like Cody would ever be interested in you. You were just one of the medics, working for GAR. There was nothing special about you. You weren't even able to use a blaster. How would you even think, the Marshal Commander would spare you any time. You should have been happy that he spent his precious time with you. Something you were sure that you have lost.

And so, you followed his order. An order of the Marshal Commander of the Republic army. You calmed yourself down and practiced, to make sure that you wouldn't bother anyone.

***

"You look angry" Rex was looking at his vod with concern in his eyes. "You seemed optimistic with the plan on the debrief."

"It's a good plan." Cody answered shortly, taking a sip of caff, or whatever the hell that was supposed to be.

"Then what's going on?" The Commander sighed and hid his face in his hands, unable to even explain it. He was angry at himself. So damn frustrated, that he let himself go when it came to you. He acted like a damn shiny. It was stupid, but he knew what he wanted at that moment. He wanted you, so damn much. He wanted to taste you in all the ways possible. He wanted to feel those soft hands on his skin, he wanted to hear you say his name. He wanted you. And that was the stupidest thing he did, even worse than getting drunk with Wolffe that one night, and that was stupid already.

"Nothing. I just have to get my head straightened to focus on the mission", the captain raised his brow in surprise. Cody was always focused on the mission. Rex hasn't met anyone as serious about the War as Cody was. So whatever got him distracted must be huge. "I have to focus on what's really important."

"You spend too much time with General Kenobi… you start talking in the same mysterious ways" the Commander chuckled softly and took another sip from his cup, hating it even more than the first one. What he wouldn't do for a cup of an actual caff. He would have to definitely go see Fox after that mission. The bastard was one lucky son of a bitch. Sure he had to work below Palpatine, but he had the best caff.

"Have you ever thought about something more?" The question surprised both of them. Cody wasn't sure if it was the tiredness and lack of sleep that pushed him to start the topic, or just the fact that he felt worse and worse everytime he remembered the look on your face when he just left.

"More than what? That piss they dare call caff?

"You know what I mean Rex’ika" the captain of course knew what his brother meant. But he was still working out the surprise of the question itself. Cody was a dedicated soldier, one of, if not the best one out there. And here he was, asking about the alternative future. Something more than being a soldier. "What if there is more and we're just too afraid to take it?"

"We're soldiers, Clones… we are at War. I won't lie to you and say that I never thought of what it would be like to have a family one day. To wake up to a nice warm body wrapped around me and not wonder about the awkwardness of the morning after." He chuckled nervously. "But I'm aware that those are dreams of common men, and we, my friend, are not common men." He hated to see the way Cody shoulders dropped a bit at his words. But he preferred to be honest with him straight away than to give him a false hope that would break him even more, later on. "So I'm guessing the training was eventful?"

It was Cody's time to chuckle nervously, sadly even, which didn't go unnoticed by Rex. It wasn't a surprise to Rex about your feeling towards his Vod, and he may have heard of the rejection you got from the said man. So it was surprising to see when Cody has started to spend his time with you, more often than not. And he was more than surprised when it was the Commander that volunteered to train you for the upcoming mission. Rex worried it would only make things more complicated, but he never thought it would turn out like that. With Cody falling for the sweet Doctor. If they weren't Clones, during the War, he would have found the situation hilarious. If only.

"Boil is going to train her that last day" Rex' eyes widened at Cody's words and tone. "I need to focus on the strategy and the briefing. I don't have time to babysit. "Not waiting for a response, the Commander stood and left the kitchen, hoping to get at least a bit of sleep.

Rex was staring at the closed doors unable to comprehend what just happened. But whatever did happen between the two of you must have scared the man quite a bit, seeing how he decided that running away from his problems and putting down the emotional barrier was the only way to go. Rex only hoped that it would not affect you that much.

***

Boil was an excellent teacher. He was patient and fun to be around. He gave you some tips for when you have to shoot and you don't have time to think. Or he gave you an idea to hold the knife differently. Of course he didn't make a soldier out of you in a day, but you were more than thankful to him for the support. You still felt nervous now, sitting at the briefing room, but you kind of felt like you would be able to do something. He also made sure you trained hard enough not to think of Cody.

Cody, the same man, who was standing near the table covered in plans, who was ignoring your presence. It was like you didn't exist. Like that little scene between the two of you never happened. Like all that relationship you worked so hard in maintaining just seemed to cease. It broke your heart, seeing how he bluntly ignored you, not even daring looking your way.

"You with us, Doc?" You blinked a couple of times, turning your attention towards Kenobi, who was relying on the brief for the mission.

"My people are ready, whenever you need us." You started, walking closer to the map, stopping as far away from Cody as possible. "My technical team will be stationed here", you pointed at one of the caves about half a click from the main medical base and about a click from the main battle front. “Kix' team will support my guys there and have some moving men between those two places." You circled around the spots you talked about. "This will give us a good flow of pace. Team Alpha and Beta will be placed under both you General and Skywalker as medical support for the Clones teams." You paused and looked at the two Jedi with nothing but seriousness in your eyes. "Please remember I put these men's lives into your hands, Masters. I trust I won't have to focus on writing any apology letters to their families." This was one of the points you brought up regarding the mission. Your men would be as safe as it was possible. "Ceavis and I will lead two small teams closest to the Generals and focus on first aid and logistics. Each team will consist of 4 men plus the leaders. What we say, goes. Understood?" You were sure you noticed a smirk on both Rex' and Ashoka's lips. But no one dared to say anything but to nod.

This mission was one of the most important ones yet. Two objectives during one assault. One team would focus on the fighting and defending objective. Keeping the army as far away from the separatists' base as possible. And that mission fell on the more offensive 501st. The other one would be responsible for saving the political prisoners and getting the stolen information back to the Republic - fallen under the responsibility of the 212th. This was why the medic team was needed. There was no time to retreat and help the injured back in the base. The base would have to move with them and help those that would still be working, hoping to minimize the casualties.

"Doc, you keep with me and Cody." You tensed a bit, unable to hide it away from the Jedi, who only raised his brow. "We will listen to you regarding the medical knowledge and expertise, but Cody here is responsible for you, so you listen to him. Understood ?" He mimicked your words with a lace of joke in his voice. You nodded looking at the Commander, who was still looking at the map, memorizing it to the last detail.

You couldn't blame him, you knew that. He was focused on the mission and the War and keeping his brothers alive. But it still hurt you that he bluntly ignored you, like you were some kind of disease. It hurts you to be able to see the softness in his eyes and feel it on your skin and so absurdly be punished for it. You never expected anything from him, and you told him that, and for just one moment you felt so happy and full. So full and finally able to breathe when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Like you were the only thing in the world at that short moment, like you were a magnet pulling him towards you. And then it was over, it ended sooner than it actually started and he wasn't even able to look at you.

"Don't worry, Kenobi. I know my place." You didn't mean it to sound as hurt as you did, but it did make Cody finally look at you. He frowned, but didn't say anything. Putting his helmet on, he left the room, telling his General he's off to double check everything.

"So…" you looked at Rex who walked to your side. You were thankful it was him and not Kenobi, or worse, Anakin. "Will you at least tell what my di’kut of a brother did?" You couldn't help but smile softly at the Captain. You weren't sure if Cody spoke to him about what happened… on the other hand you would like to know yourself what happened.

"Getting rid of any interruptions." The Clone raised his brow at that and sighed. He was afraid, whatever Cody started talking about, was more what he originally thought. And seeing the way you both reacted to each other, Rex knew that whatever you worked so hard to build, was somehow destroyed. And he couldn't get the feeling off his chest, that it was somehow his brother's fault. "It's my fault really. I was stupid enough to hope that whatever was building between us was something more than a typical professional relation." And before Rex was able to say anything, you left the briefing room, hoping he would have missed that single tear that dropped down your cheek.

***

"I hope you know I don't like it one bit" Ceavis growled under his breath, preparing for the upcoming mission. Ceavis was your third in command and as much as you appreciated his work and knowledge, you and him were never truly friends. You both had too different characters and a completely different look on the world and your jobs.

"Yes, you mentioned that once or twice", you rolled your eyes at his tone and sighed. You were in no mood to listen to his constant negativity. It was the last thing you and your men needed. You knew it wasn't a good idea, but the decision has been made. "I'm not sure which team would actually be a better and safer option." You stared at him for a while, waiting for him to at least start packing the essentials, but apparently he had all the time in the world, while you were repacking for the fifth time already.

You didn't know how Kix did it. You were only allowed a small backpack, enough to keep you alive, but not enough to actually do anything productive. It scared you, the thought that you had to choose from the essentials, that the Clones had to choose like that every damn mission.

"Master Skywalker and the 501st's team will be much bigger, that's why I'm sending you there." You started, trying to control the annoyance in your voice. "You and Enya will focus on firming two formations. Let Enya handle the stay put one, while you take the teams and get the help directly to the soldiers. Your team got the basic training right ?" He nodded visibly, not happy with the way you still wanted to go with the mission. You wonder why he even agreed to come. "Anakin knows that the lives of my people are his priority. He wouldn't want to get under my skin, so whenever you feel like the mission is out of the hands of the 501st speak with Rex and Anakin." You got a nod from him and you turned to leave the room. "We are part of something bigger here, Ceavis, try to remember that", and not giving him any time to respond you left, going to meet up with your team.

***

"Is there any reason for this weird energy between you and Doc?" Cody frowned at his General. He should have known Kenobi would have picked up any unusual behavior. "I thought you were becoming close."

"Too close", the Commander answered, before he was able to think of the words coming out of his mouth. He sighed at the Jedi's raised brow and continued. "We're at War, General. It would be irresponsible to get attached to anyone."

"You don't mind the relationship you share with me and your brothers."

"This is different, sir!" Cody murmured, knowing well enough what the man next to him was trying to do.

"Well I hope so, I'm really not good at dealing with romantic feelings" Cody's head snapped at him, his eyes widened and mouth opened almost as if he was ready to fight with his General, but nothing came out. "Whether you're blind or really afraid. Frankly I never considered you a coward and for the success of the mission I hope there's nothing wrong with your eyesight." The Clone swallowed hard and the Jedi smiled. "What's really the matter, my dear ?" Cody hated it when he used these words of affection. He would never be able to say no to his Jedi, and he hated the fact that the general had such power over him. With nothing more than some words.

"I don't really know myself. Before I knew it, I started to actually enjoy her company. She's smart, witty, interesting and…" He coughed awkwardly, playing with his helmet. "She's really pretty." He looked away, hearing the Jedi chuckle softly. "I felt bad at the beginning. I never had anyone declare their love for me and I didn't want her to get hurt. I hoped that if I tried to stay friendly she wouldn't feel bad. But the more time I spent with her the more I thought of her." He shook his head in annoyance and kept on playing with the helmet. "The last couple of days, when I trained her… I know not every Jedi believes we’re nothing but the weapon for the Republic, but it's still weird to hear it from civvies." He scratched his neck nervously, feeling his Jedi's eyes on him. "She sees us. Like really sees us and I can't help but wanting to see her as well. She cried angry tears because she thought she was a burden to me." He chuckled, but got serious again with the flashbacks. "I never felt such a pull towards anybody. I wanted to comfort her not as a Commander, but as a man. Her man." He clenched his hands around his helmet and closed his eyes. "I… you called when I almost …egh.. you know."

"Kissed her", Kenobi helped him out, laughing at the way his Commander stared at him. It was like he said something in a line of taboo. Obi Wan could not help but admit that it was adorable to see the always stoic Commander, all flustered with a thought of kissing someone.

"I'm starting to realize why the Jedi opt for no emotions involved." Cody started again, making the Jedi frown again. "I asked Boil to train her after that and we haven't really spoken… I'm trying to ignore her, because if I'm near her, all I think about is her going on that mission with us. And the thought that something may happen to her paralyzes me to the ground. It's pathetic isn't it?"

Kenobi smiled softly at the man and patted him on the shoulder. It wasn't a secret to him that you were utterly in love with the man, but it was new to see the Clone smitten with you, especially after he rejected your feelings in the first place. He knew the way others looked at the Clones, and he would lie if he said he wasn’t angry whenever someone said something bad about them. For the General, his Commander and his brothers were as much human as he or anyone in the Galaxy and they deserved the respect for protecting the Republic. So whenever he went out with his battalion to 79th, he truly enjoyed seeing them relaxed and flirty with the girls. And it wasn't a secret that he saw Cody as more than his Commander. He was happy to call him a friend and right now, he couldn't help the happy feeling in his stomach seeing Cody in love with his other friend.

"It's not pathetic, Cody. It's childish that you ignore her, yes." He grinned at the angry look from the Clone but continued nevertheless. "But definitely not pathetic. We Jedi see more and feel stronger. So much stronger than anyone in the Galaxy. To control those feelings we opt for these no attachment rules. But it's not like we don't feel. Feeling makes you human. It makes you act faster and stronger to protect those that you care about. You are a great soldier, my dear, and there is not doubt in me that the mission will be a success, even when you worry so deeply for our Doctor." The Clone smiled softly and nodded. "Love isn't easy and it doesn't always end well, but running away from it may be the most stupid mistake you'd made in your life. If you care for her, talk to her. Tell her how you feel, but for the love of the Force, don't ignore her. You'll only hurt yourself and her even more." He ended at the same moment when your team was slowly getting hungry. "Trust me, my friend. Life is to short for regrets."

***

"I want to set a camp of some kind in here" you stated, showing a place that was supposed to be abandoned, not too far away from the final destination, but far enough that the medics would have time to fall back. "If you need a medic to come with you, I volunteer, Boil and Commander Cody have trained me enough not to be a bother. Aila will stay and take command over the camp." The young girl nodded, already hearing the plan from you, before you presented it to the battalion. "Cath has also agreed to go if you decide to split during the mission. This would give a total of four medic in the move-in team, which is more than enough." You looked at Cath, a young man who, as one of few, had some experience with blasters.

"Sounds good to me" Kenobi started, looking at his Commander who was still looking at the holomap, a frown on his face. He didn't like the fact that you so willingly wanted to go with them, but he knew if it was anyone else he would have agreed to a good plan. You were the best medic he knew and it would be a stupid ass decision if he declined your help, especially that it was what he trained you for.

"It sounds good. Having a small camp will help in case we would need to fall out and go in a smaller group." He nodded, more and more impressed with your planning skills. It made him a bit at ease, when he knew you were prepared for that mission. "The entry to the building seems like a labyrinth, it would be a good idea to divide the teams right now, to save time later."

"I'll take the lead with the first team, you can have the other team." Kenobi started looking at Cody, who nodded in agreement. "I want to see what Cath is capable of." He didn't miss his Commander's eyes on him and he knew there would be a stern talking about it later on. He bit down a chuckle at that. "You and Doc work well together, are you OK with that ?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sure, Kenobi", both of you answered at the same time, not daring to look at each other. Working well with each other. You almost scoffed how untrue that was at the moment. You probably would if Cody would have enough guts to look at you… and well, if you weren't such a coward yourself. But this was a mission, no personal attachment was prohibited and you had to hide the hurt you felt. And shame. It was the second time you let the same man break your heart. He didn't even have to do much, his ignorance was enough for you to bring tears in your eyes at night. But it was in the past, nothing was more important than the present. And right now you had to work together to make sure the mission went smoothly.

"Alright! We move out in ten, get ready!" Everyone around turned and was ready to follow the Jedi into the ship, already prepared for the upcoming mission. You did the same, turning to leave when you felt a hand on your wrist stopping you.

"Can we please talk?" You raised your brow wanting nothing more to just walk away and tell him there was nothing to talk about. But your stupid heart made you stop and nod at the Clone. "I must apologize. What I did in the training room was a mistake." So two was not enough. He just broke your heart the third time. A mistake - that closeness, that softness in his eyes, the touch of his hands on you. It was all a mistake. "I should not have gotten so close. I… I mean there is a mission and I think we should both focus on that right now." He tried to make the last two words stand out, but the nervousness made it only sound harsher than he ever intended.

"I understand", his eyes widened at your affirmation and he seemed to relax a bit, until he actually looked at you and his heart broke just a little. Your expression was emotionless, your eyes had no life in them, like you didn't care about anything. "You don't have to worry, that mistake won't happen again." He voluntarily flinched at your monotone voice and the repeat of his own words. Somehow, hearing them from you, felt foreign, painful. "The mission is a priority, Commander." And then you left him alone in that empty briefing room. Feeling worse than he has ever felt before.

***

The planet was a nightmare. Whenever you stood, you could hear someone fighting. It was like a war zone on the whole damn planet. You tried to ignore the dead bodies of locals, just left there. Forgotten by everyone, like a bag of trash forgotten, when it wasn't needed anymore.

"We divide here." Kenobi started, looking at your team, as if encouraging you. You sent him a small smile, which je reciprocated with a firm nod. "Cody, I will let you know when we get the data back, I'm awaiting your response when it comes to the situation at your sector."

"Yes, sir !" The Clone turned towards your group and showed the small map from the holopad. "We will focus on that road here. It's a recon mission from us. If we can avoid the fight we will. 501 has that covered." You couldn't help but smile at his tired tone, when he mentioned Anakin's division. "We may encounter local forces there. If you have to fight, if you don't, capture them. Reckon! Everyone gets it?” A chorus of yes sirs was heard and the men scattered to get into the position. “Stay close to me, Doc.” You turned, after hearing his voice. Despite the command in the tone, you could see a vulnerability in his eyes. You didn't understand where that came from, but you nodded.

You weren’t about to be a bother to him. You have decided. The moment that mission is over, you will come back to your hospital and regain that professional relationship Cody was so fixated about. The last thing you wanted was to make his life any more difficult than it already was. You desperately hoped to become his friend. Someone who would be able to help him whenever he would have been in need. But he wasn’t looking for a friend. You realized he was just being nice. A good, old Cody. Always the gentleman. All this talk the two of you had was some kind of an apology from him for turning you down. And that thought was making you want to break down and cry right here right now.

“Boss” you heard Aila’s voice in your right ear and turned to commlink on. “The camp is set up and we have divided work throughout our stuff and the Clones.” You smiled at her words and nodded at Cody who looked your way, as if to confirm that all is fine.

“Good! Make sure that you’re aware of both your surroundings and the medical stuff. Try to divide it into small teams as we discussed. Get Grail and Tylie focus on the equipment. The rest make sure you show off to those Clones. We can’t be worse than them.” You ignored the chuckle from the Commander and smiled at the one from the girl on the base. You believed in your men, your medics were the best and you weren’t being subjective. You trained them well, and you trusted them with your life. All you could do was boost their morale as much as possible. Even with some stupid jokes like that. “If anything happens let me or Commander Cody know.”

“Boil and Waxer have already instructed us on the military shit.” The girl laughed at the two Clones that were left behind as a support. “You be safe, OK, boss? I need a raise and I won’t get it, if you don’t come back.” You laughed at that and turned off the comm, when you walked into the tunnel.

“Focus now. Blasters out, get them into stun mode and keep your heads up.” Cody muttered, turning on the light on his helmet. “And remember we only kill the damn clanckers.” You followed his order, getting your blaster out. You could almost hear your heart beating, with how loud it was getting. You tried your best to control your breathing but it was getting more difficult the further you went into that tunnel. The damn gun was also much heavier than it was during the practice. You noticed how your hand shook a bit when you lifted the blaster slightly. This was ridiculous. You shouldn’t be this nervous, you knew what you were getting yourself into. It’s too late to change your mind. Survive this and you can come back to your patients and white walls of your hospital.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Cody whispered softly, seeing the way your hands were shaking. He wasn’t surprised to see your nervous state. Despite being an amazing doctor, you were just a civilian, that was always as far away as possible from the battlefield. All this must be terrifying for you. Not only were you afraid for your own life, but knowing you, you were also thinking of your team. Always the caring one. “Do you trust me?” He didn’t know where that question came from. He wasn’t supposed to focus on any kind of conversation with you. His job was to observe and act as quickly as possible. Not have an existential dialogue, with the woman he was annoyingly falling for. This should be left for after the mission. And yet here he was, trying his best to make you feel better.

“Yes”, the certainty in your voice made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t expect you to answer so quickly and with such confidence. He looked down and smiled softly seeing the way you were completely focused on your surroundings. ‘Good girl’, he thought to himself.

“Good, then we have nothing to worry about”, she smiled softly and he felt lighter seeing that little lip quirk. He felt proud for making you feel at least a little bit at ease.

“Commander!” He stopped, motioning to others to stand by. “Its Vice here. We are at some kind of door, about half a click from your position. We can check it out, or should we wait for you?”

“Wait for us.” He commended, signaling others to move again. “All the medics are here with us, in case something happens no one will be able to help you. Stand down, and wait, Tropper.” A soft yes, sir was the last thing Cody heard and he took some extra, longer steps to get where his men are. He could hear how you already contacted the CLone medic for this team, to be ready. Well, there go the nerves.

“Isn’t it too quiet, Commander?” If they were in any other situation, he would have hated the way you addressed him. But it was the mission, and he was telling himself you were just being professional. Something he should focus on as well. “I may be paranoid, but…”

“It’s possible that the real action will start after we open those doors Vice told us about”, he answered but couldn’t get rid of the nasty feeling in his stomach. He actually did feel the same as you. You all walked for 15 minutes now and nothing was going on. Not only you haven't missed anything, but there was no one waiting for you. “General”, he finally spoke to his comm, when they stopped at the doors with Vice by his side. “Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Cody.” hearing as Kenobi answered almost automatically it seemed that nothing was happening on his side. “Something doesn’t smell nice in here.”

“Same here, Sir.” He murmured and signaled for his men to take position. “ We are at the doors. We will open them and see where it gets us. Has General Skywalker been in touch”

“The 501st are having the time of their lives right now, from what I heard.” You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his sarcastic tone. “But Anakin didn’t sound like he was complaining.”

“Nothing new then”, Cody commanded and the General hummed softly. I will contact you in 15 minutes. If you don’t hear from me or anyone on the team, please assume the worst.”

“Same here, Commander. Stay safe!” And that was it. No commands from the General to the Commander. There was no need. Obi Wan trusted Cody completely and the Clone Commander knew that well. That trust went both ways.

“Ok, on count to three, Howl, open up that damn door.” raising his hand, he started to count down from three and when he closed the fist, you expected some kind of commotion, a boom or a blaster fire from the other side. But once again nothing was there. One part of you was happy that nothing has happened yet, but the second part knew that there was something fishy in here. “Move, move. Keep your eyes open, but let's keep on moving. Instinctively you moved closer to Cody, after his instructions, your fingers tightening on the blaster just a little more.

“The sensor shows around 50 people a click away from here”, Guts reported, showing the screen to Cody. So the intel was correct. There were people being held captive. “There are kids as well.” He nodded and looked down at you. You nodded, understanding. The moment they got there, it was your job to get to those poor people and help those that were in need. Your other, free fist clenched around your bag, ready for the action.

“General. We have sensed 50 lives a click away from us. We are ready to move in. We will meet you at the rendez-vous point, when we can.” He frowned when there was no response. He tried again, and again, but the line was quiet. “Howl, Vice, Doc, try your comms and contact the General.” You all did as he asked, but the outcome was the same. Silence.

“Shouldn’t we help them?” You asked and he looked at you, shaking his head.

“They may have encountered the enemy. We should finish our mission here and then help them.” You wanted to argue. What if they were ambushed, what if they needed our help but couldn’t contact us, what if… “You said you trust me, Doc.” You looked at him and frowned, when he took off his helmet. “Then trust me on this one. And let’s finish our first mission together.” You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn’t find any words. You did trust him. And his judgment. And so you nodded, closing your eyes to relax.

“Ok boys, let’s get this done and go help the General.” They all cheered and you all got ready to storm the place down, unable to hear the quiet rumble from the General in your ear. A silent “it’s a trap” that would later on be a constant nightmare to those that somehow survived.

***

All you could hear was the ringing in your ears. You tried opening your eyes, but you felt as if they were all too heavy. The air felt polluted and heavy all of a sudden. Your head, and that damn ringing wasn’t helping the migrene that was forming, quicker than you liked to admit. Something wasn’t right. But you were still too out of it to realize what was happening.

“Doc!!” you must be dreaming, because you are sure, you hear that soft voice of the commander near you. But for some reason he sounded so worried, almost scared. If that was even possible. You so desperately wanted to keep on dreaming. To have him speak to you in that same soft manner. With his hand on your cheek. This dream was what you wanted for so long and so you closed your eyes and focused on sleeping. “No, no, open those eyes. Come on, sweet girl! Look at me!” He never called you that. Those sweet words were like honey to your ears and you wanted to listen. But you were afraid that if you did, you would wake up and be met with reality. “You have to wake up, damn! Come on!” The pain in your stomach, however, brought you back to reality. With a gasp you sat down and opened those heavy lids, squinting, when the dust was getting into them. “Thank the Maker!”

You looked around and stiffened seeing the scene. If it was only biologically possible, you were sure, your heart just stopped beating right at that moment. You were used to blood and suffering and screams of pains, but what you were now surrounded by was more like Hell. It was how you imagined it to be.

“Don’t look!” it made you look up at him for the first time, since you opened your eyes. He didn’t have his helmet, there was a trickle of blood flowing down his handsome face. There were cuts on his cheeks and his always well-kept hair was a total mess now. He looked awful, and yet you still find him so incredibly handsome. “Focus those pretty eyes on me, OK?” You frowned and tried to look around again, but he stopped your head with his hand on your cheek. His forehead resting on yours, making your breath hitch at the proximity. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Cody”, you started but hissed when you tried to move. You looked down at the source of pain and your eyes widened. Your shirt was no longer white and one of Cody’s hands was pushing on the spot there, trying to stop the flow as much as he could. “What happened?” You asked quietly but he only shook his head and you released that he was shaking slightly. “Cody… Are you… Are you OK?” You were slurring a bit, but you had to make sure. He had a cut on his head. You needed to check on it, to make sure he didn’t have a concussion.

“I need to stop that fucking bleeding and I will be just fine, Mesh’la!” He said, pushing on that wound of yours, making you scream in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, please tell me what to do!”

“I need to help others first. Need to take a look at your head!” You looked around again and a shocked sob escaped your lips, when you finally realized what surrounded you. Masses of motionless bodies, laying in the most bizarre positions. Some crushed by the rocks, some not even full. You weren’t sure if you were even able to locate the part of each of the bodies, to try to put them back together? What for? You didn’t know. Not like those Clones had families that would like to bury them. They all died here with their family. All of them, from what you saw. All these men that accompanied you here, were lying dead in front of you. And not just them. In the further part of the corridor you could see bodies of the civilians you came to save. Men, women, kids. Even babies. All dead, buried under the rocks, with blood pouring through the leaks of those rocky walls.

You tried to look away but you couldn’t. Even Cody’s hand on your face didn’t work this time. Your eyes were following each of the bodies surrounding you. A young man holding a woman in his arms. A child separated from his mother. A young woman with dreams cut so drastically. And your whole squad. Those men you loved so much and cared for. You tried to scream when you noticed Vice’s body laying not too far away from you. But you couldn’t as no sound left your lips. He just laid there, still in his armor. If you truly wanted, you could imagine, he was just resting. If you only shook him a bit, maybe he would wake up and smile at you.

You looked at Cody again, when you heard him calling you by your first name. You couldn’t remember if he ever did that? He did use your last name once or twice, but normally stuck with Doc. Until now, you weren’t sure he even knew your name. You chuckled to yourself, but caught when the pain was back, You gasped and almost fell back, if not for Cody keeping an eye on you.

“I know you worry about everyone. But please, Doc. We have to take care of you first.” Oh, yeah you were bleeding. The adrenaline was wearing off and you did start to feel it all. You tried to take a deep breath and relax a bit. You knew that if you let yourself, you will get into a panic attack mode, and that was not good for your heart. And then Cody would have to take care of even more than he does now. Poor guy. He did not sign up for this. You weren’t supposed to be a bother. No to him. No… You shook your head slightly, trying to get back to the topic at hand.

“As the bleeding isn’t exceeding, it means you did a good job and left whatever is there blocking it?” Speaking was getting more and more difficult, but you needed to instruct your commander what to do. You wouldn’t do it to him. You won’t just die, and leave him be. Alone in that Hell you found yourself in. “Don’t take it out even if I go into shock and ask you to do it, got it?” He nodded and still kept the pressure on the wound. “As I’m still able to actually think it means, I wasn’t out for too long and haven’t lost that much blood yet.”

“No… It all happened about 5 minutes ago.” You nodded and slowly sat up, easing your breathing with every second. It all meant one thing. You were probably in the second class of hemorrhagic shock, which wasn’t that bad. You did feel anxious, but the total confusion hasn’t come yet. “I’m not sure if we're actually safe here, so I would prefer to move you…”

“No”, you stopped him, mid sentence, shaking your head. “Any sudden move will lead me to bleed out. We need to stop that blood coming out of my body before anything else.”

“And how do we do that?” You clenched your hand around something, which you later on realized it was Cody’s thigh, you were holding on. But he didn’t seem to mind at all, not even caring that you would probably leave some bruises there.

“My bag”, you said softly, realizing that what you’re about to offer will be a hell on its own. But either that or bleeding out on your first ever mission. And that was just sad. “You will have to…” A cough stopped you and you cursed feeling a metallic taste in your mouth. Not good, very not good. “You will have to act fast. OK?” He nodded and he opened your back. To your surprise nothing broke there and you happily found what you were looking for. A pair of gloves, a bottle with a silver nitrate solution, you were so glad you decided to prepare. Some swabs, bacta patches and hemostatic dressings that should help the bacta to do the trick.

“Ok, some pay back for sticking my hands into your chest.” He raised his brow and smiled softly, happy to see you still had enough energy for some silly jokes. “First of all, put the gloves on. Then prepare some swabs and then after removing that thing in my body, you will pour the…”

“You just told me not to remove it”, he countered and you sigh, giving him a stern look. You didn’t have the energy to do any of it. You were slowly getting into class three of shock that wasn’t good.

“You will pull that out of me and pour that bottle’s continent on the wound. Do not stop even If I cry and scream. You need to pour at least half of it. You need to do that the second the thing is out of my body.” You looked at him and he nodded, understanding your implication. “You then put the dressing on and patch it up with some bacta. And hopefully it will stick till we get some help.”

“Hopefully?” he raised his brow at you but put on his gloves and started to follow your orders. He has never done anything like that. He wasn’t a medic. He wasn’t trained to do it. Your life depended on him and he hated it. He was supposed to protect you and here you were, lying injured because you saved him. He wasn’t sure you even remember how you pushed him away, when the bomb went off. How without thinking you just jumped to action saving his sorry ass.

He closed his eyes to relax and acted before he changed his mind. He tried. He tried so hard to ignore that hellish scream from you when he poured whatever there was in that bottle. He knew he would dream of nightmares of that scream and part of him knew he deserved it. But he kept on going. He did what you told him to do and when you laid there with your eyes half closed, breathing hard, your face covered in tears, but with the wound sealed somehow and no blood was flowing, he was fine with being the one to bring that scream out of you, if it meant you would survive it.

“Hey, Mesh’la, you OK?” You smiled weakly and nodded. “Ok, I’ll clean that up quickly and we need to go, ok?”

“I need to have a look at your injuries… We need to see if someone…”

“No-one survived.” It was like a slap to your face and you recoiled, feeling your eyes water at that. “It wa s a fucking trap. They knew we were coming and they used civilians to get us here.” He shoved the medical things into your bag, and took it on his shoulder. “I tried contacting the General, but no sign yet.” You looked around again, and sniffed looking at all those bodies laying around.

“I’m a doctor, Cody… I was supposed to save them. I was supposed to do something… I can’t just leave….”

“You couldn’t do anything for them… But you saved my life, if that makes you feel better.” You frowned, and gasped softly, when he lifted you up into his arms. He was so careful with you. It was such a contrast to the hardened soldier he was. “You pushed me away when the bob went off. I will always be in favor of you.” You looked up at his stoic face and hid your face into his chest, letting yourself cry. For real this time.

***

“Have any of them answered?” Obi Wan raised his eyes on his former Padawan and sighed, shaking his head. “Rex has his team ready to go. We will take Kix and Cath with us and we can go search for them.” Anakin looked at his Captain who nodded, ready to go and save his brother. “You can take Rex and go save your men.” The Master smirked and looked at Skywalker, who shrugged. He was a good man. Kenobi knew that Anakin understood. If it was Rex buried there, the young Skywalker would not have been as calm as his Master.

“I should have felt it in the Force much quicker. I should have acted sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, Master!” Ashoka added, frowning at Kenobi. “I don’t think anyone out there would blame you for that, and so you shouldn’t.”

“When did your Padawan become so smart, Anakin?” They both laughed softly and he sighed. “I hope she’s alright. It was her first mission.”

“Cody is there, so there is nothing to worry about, Sir!” Rex said, making the Jedi master smile softly. Yet, the Captain was right. Cody was the best soldier Kenobi knows. If there was anyone who would survive that and protect you, it was him. And so he stood and took his lightsaber from Anakin, ready to save his friends.

***

“I’m sorry Cody”, he looked down and your form crawled at his thighs. You looked so small, so adorable, if only those tears didn’t stain that pretty face of yours, he would be a happy man to hold you so close to himself. Almost losing you made him realize that he was an utter idiot. He should have been honest with you at the base. You two should have talked. And he promised himself, he would not leave your side. He would be your shield. Physically and emotionally. He would let you sleep on him, he would let you wet his armor with your tears. He would let you do anything to him, only if you felt just slightly better. “You lost so many of your brothers and I’m the one who’s…

“You cry for my brothers.” He ended for you, kissing your temple softly, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, enjoying the tender feeling of having him so close. You should not be enjoying it. It was selfish, and yet you couldn't help it. Despite the armor, you could feel the heat of his body. Or was it your body heat you felt? “Not many do that. Not many care enough to share a tear for them. And here you are. Your beautiful eyes puffy after crying so hard for those that were meant to die.”

“I hate when you say that.” He chuckled sadly, and hugged you closer, his cheek on the top of your head. “I wish I would have done more.” And yet it was like a lighting shock. You straightened, hissing in pain. Cody frowned and looked at you in alarm. “Let me see if you’re injured!” He exhaled and couldn’t help but smile.

“You should rest. I don’t know how long that patch will last…” You bit your lip and your hand slowly raised to go through his hair.

“Please, Cody. Let me be useful.” His eyes widened and he once again leaned his forehead to yours. A soft touch, an intimate gesture of the culture he was raised in. A quiet plea and the feelings exchange, of all the things he’s like to say but couldn’t. And so he nodded. And let you. He let you step away from him, keeping a safe hand close to you, just in case. He just sat there and let your small, soft hands take his armor off. Slowly, almost afraid as if your moves would bring any harm to him. If only you knew how different it was. How he yearned to feel you touch. To be cared for by you, with that loving touch of yours. “Can I?” He nodded his head, afraid to say anything. Not sure if he would be able to. “Oh, Cody!” You gasped, seeing his bruising ribs. It was impossible for him not to feel pain. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were more important.” He murmured, not able to look at you. Such a strong Marshal Commander, unable to look at the woman he… yes, he loved, look in the eyes. What shocked him was how easy it came to him. Losing was like a spur for him to realize his feelings. “If I didn’t take care of me, who would save me like you could?” You blushed and smiled shyly at yourself, opening your bag. You carefully cleaned his bruises and the cuts on his cheek and head, making sure to bring him as little pain as possible. “I was scared I’d lost you out there.” You froze and his words, but stayed quiet, letting him say whatever was weightining on his chest. “I never wanted to hurt you. Never meant to be such a jerk. I…” He finally looked up and your heart broke a bit at his sad expression. It was like a mere memory of his actions that hurt him physically. “I was scared, because you were becoming someone so very important to me in such a short time and… I’m a Marshal Commander.” You apologized quietly when he hissed at one of the head injuries, when you put a patch of bacta there. “I’m… I’m supposed to only have War on my mind and yet here I am… I was so scared, when you laid there, unable to move.” You swallowed hard when he softly circled his fingers around your wrist. He brought your hand towards his lips and left a soft kiss there. A lingering touch, you will dream about when that mission is over. “I got scared when I realized that I cared so deeply for you. Back in the base. When I almost kissed you. You told me that love is when you can’t get someone out of your mind. And I keep on thinking of you all the damn time.” Your breath hitched at his admission.

Your shaky hand lowered to take care of his bruised ribs. And you tried to ignore how he shivered at your touch. And you hoped deep inside, that you had the same effect on him as he did on you. You should be a professional, but here he was, half naked in front of you. You tried to focus on your job, but his words shook you. He just admitted that he was falling for you. You swallowed hard, wanting to say something, do something, but you couldn’t. And so, you just wrapped his torso and ribs safely and looked up at him when you finally finished. Happy to know that there was nothing critical.

“Please don’t say all these things, if you’re going to ignore me, the moment we are back.” He flinched at your declaration, and you felt bad, but you needed to know. Needed to be perfectly sure, that if you let yourself dream, hope, then that won’t just crush after all this is over. “I have loved you for so long, so if you…” But you weren’t given a chance to finish. His lips were on you, before you were able to react. You froze, not sure if you were actually dreaming. His lips were softer than you imagined. It was kind of innocent and sweet, as if he was unsure of himself. When you didn’t move, he stepped back and awkwardly started to apologize, but you didn’t give him a chance. You crushed your lips to his, ignoring how your stomach hurt a bit with those sudden movements. But you didn’t care. You were finally kissing the man you have loved for such a long time.

Cody didn’t waste his time. Calloused, soft hands cupped your face, pulling you forward even more. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, licking the bottom of your lip asking for permission to enter. And you let him, because who were you to make him wait. And he doesn’t waste that chance. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a way, a chance to show you how much he adores you. His tongue is gently messaging yours, sensually, taking the time to get to know you.

He pulls away, but doesn’t waste any time, kissing your jaw softly, nipping at it softly, making you gasp softly at his touch. His hands grasp and your waist. Tightly, but enough to hurt you, mindful of your injury. He was so careful with you, so loving. You tilt your head back, wanting more. More of him, more of his warm and hot kisses. You feel him inhaling you and you can’t help but moan softly when he tastes you with his skillful tongue.

“Cody!” You shriek and he laughs, when you playfully pat him on the shoulder when he bit and sucked your pulse spot at your neck, for sure leaving a mark there. “What if someone notices?”

“Let them. They will know who you belong to!” Normally you would never let any man talk to you that way. But with Cody it didn’t feel disrespectful. It was like he was confessing, that at the same time he belonged to you and you almost cried with happiness. “But I have to stop now, cyare.” Your heart skipped a beat with the Mando leaving his mouth. “You are injured and I’m unsure if I would be able to stop myself if we go any further.” He softly kissed your forehead and you blushed at this innuendo. As you were about to say something even remotely flirtatious, a voice could be heard from Cody’s comlink. He quickly turned it on and you felt tears appearing in your eyes when you heard Kenobi’s voice on the other side.

“Cody, report.”

“General!” You could hear the Jedi relaxed sigh on the other side. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you.”

“Are you OK? Is anyone injured?” Your smile dropped and you clenched at your shirt nervously.

“Doc will need medical attention as we had to make do with her injuries.” He held your hand and sighed, readening himself to tell his Jedi the bad news. “It was a trap, Sir. The moment we walked in, the bomb activated. All of my team, including the civilians are gone.” There was silence on the other side. Probably no one expected the news to be so devastating.

“My sincere apologies, my dear. I did realize it was a trap, but…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Obi!” You interjected, hugging into Cody’s (still) bare chest. He raised his brow and you were expecting a similar reaction from the Master on the line as well. It was the first time you said his name like that. “No one could have expected that. We can’t save everyone.” You sniffed softly and Cody, wrapped his arm around you.

“It’s good to hear you”, you smiled when he used your name, instead of the nickname. “You both stay where you are. Rex has traced you, we should be there with two medics to take care of you.” And the line was off and you leaned into Cody, kissing his collarbone softly.

“When we’re back”, he started before Kenobi and the team would come. “I will properly apologize to you.” You frowned, and wanted to deny whatever he thought, but he only kissed you softly at the top of your head and shut you up completely with that sweet move. It was a truly weird feeling. You were so very happy, despite being so devastated at the same time.

***

It took you a whole month of rehabilitation and Kix’ nagging of you staying in bed, before he was remotely OK to let you leave the hospital. Cody was visiting you every day with some sort of a gift. A single flower, a chocolate, a cup of coffee, or a book, you could read to kill the boredom. You both talked, he apologized almost everyday and made sure that he bid you with the sweetest of kisses. You did have a serious talk about where you both saw this going. He promised you that he would do his best to open up to you, but he did ask to give him some time. He never even considered something as stable as a relationship and it was all new to him. And you were more than willing to give him all the time he needed. And so you both decided to take things slow. For the both of you.

So when he didn’t pick you up from the hospital today, you were worried. He was on his leave and he promised he would a week ago. But here you were, walking to your apartment alone. There was this sick feeling in your stomach, which you tried to get rid of. There was probably something holding him up. Something important.

You opened your flat doors and gasped, letting the bag fall from your shoulders to the floor. There he was awkwardly standing, in the middle of the room, with some flowers, a table ready for dinner.

“General Skywalker and Ashoka helped me with it… “ He walked towards you, handing you the flowers. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up from the hospital. But I do owe you a first date, don’t I, Cyare?” He leaned forward and pressed a sweet, quick peck on your lips.

“Oh, you are more than forgiven, Commander”.

Tag List: @loving-the-cambridges

#star wars #the clone wars #commander cody #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #commander cody x reader #cody x you #idiots in love #idiots in denial #the clones #star wars the clone wars

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