beneath the mask â© chapter 12
âŹ
ch.11
â đđđđ; đđ+ đđđđđđđ; đđđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ
â SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER
â CHAPTER TAGS | wc 3.5k
â AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sooooooooo sorry if this seems ooc for ghost. i wanted to write him acting more empathetic while also maintaining his cold demeanor. i think some people tend to write him one way or the other and so i tried to balance it a bit more to be realistic. but if this felt ooc for ghost im so sorry!! feedback is appreciated so i can improve upcoming chapters! <3
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the startling realization that you were sleeping in simonâs room is what woke you up that following morning. you sat up in his bed, the covers falling away from your chest, and you noticed he was gone. it was strange how this was the second time you shared a bedâcompletely platonicallyâwith him and he was m.i.a. come morning.
you tried not to think too deeply about it, not wanting to get your feelings hurt even more than they already were. you were able to put what had happened between the two of you in the back of your mind yesterday, squishing down his words that hurt you so badly.Â
you looked good in your dress. thatâs all. mâsorry.
but that was yesterday. that was when he was the first face you saw after thinking you were about to be tortured. the face that rescued you. that was when he carried you back to base, his arms around you like a safety blanket. when he was the sense of security you desperately needed. when you felt like you needed him.Â
this morning, your mind was far clearer. you even realized how stupid you were to let simon be that person for you when johnny was right there.Â
you scurried from his room, still draped in his shirt, and made it back to your own. you told yourself you would visit the infirmary today, not for work, but to get yourself checked out. you werenât hurt too badly, nothing that couldnât heal with a little time. but still, you should really get checked over. and you were sure laswell or price would want to have a word with you about everything that happened.Â
before you even managed to shift through your thoughts, johnny was at your door.
âhowâre ya feelinâ?âÂ
you grabbed your toiletries bag and spun to face to scot. âiâm okay.â
he gave you a once over. âare you sure?â he said a bit softer.
you gave him a gentle smile. âdonât worry, iâm just going to shower. then straight to the infirmary to get checked out.â you gave him a mock salute.Â
johnny shook his head as he followed you out your door and down the hall towards the showers. âno, not that.â you glanced at him. âwell, no, of course i wanted to make sure you were gonna be seen by a medic, but i was referring to the⊠psychological side of things.â
you laughed at his phrasing. âiâll be okay, johnny. seriously. i mean, i know what happened terrified me and hasnât left my thoughts since, but i could be a lot worse.â you were trying to make light of the situation. and while johnny understood that all too well, he still wasnât convinced you were truly back to normal just a day after your kidnapping.Â
you were taken a bit back. for once, soap didnât seem to appreciate your humor. âand with ghost?âÂ
you almost dropped your bag, stumbling in your steps. âw-what about him?âÂ
âi saw him carrying you into base. the way ya clung to him. i just want tâmake sure youâre okay.â his eyes trailed the shirt you were wearingâ'swimming in' was more accurateâknowing it wasn't yours, but ghost's.
you sighed before spinning to face him. you wanted to make this very clear to soap: âhe was the first person i saw. he was the one i saw close on my tail when i was trapped in that truck. he was the face who barged into that room after slaughtering men, pulling me out of that hole. i think i was just overwhelmed and felt like i needed him . yâknow⊠a safety thing. but that has passed. iâm fine. fine .â soap raised a brow, not quite believing you. ânothing happened,â you said a bit bashful, noticing the way soap was staring at you like he thought more had gone down last night, and wearing ghost's shirt sure wasn't helping. âhe just kept me company so i could fall asleep without thinking aboutâŠâ your words trailed off. âpoint is, i appreciate you looking out for me, but iâm okay. i wonât let himâŠâ a beat of silence passed as you looked for the words. âi wonât read things wrong again.â the sentence was a struggle to get out; like ash on your tongue.
you could see the concern on johnnyâs face, so before he could protest and pry more, you slipped into the womenâs showers so he couldnât follow.
after showering and visiting the infirmaryâ-yes, you have been clearedâ-you were making your way to priceâs office. you assumed laswell would be there as well.Â
you adjusted your black shirt as you strolled the halls, careful to not move in any way that would hurt your sore ribs. you walked past the gym, peeking in to see if you could spot gaz, surprised he hadnât come to see you yet, and you almost choked on your spit.
you spotted simonâ- ghostâ- across the room in workout gear, addressing a new recruit. you hadnât recognized her but you knew there were new recruits coming in this week so you assumed her to be one of them.Â
you tried to pull your eyes away, but they were latched on to the tall brute and the shorter woman beside him. ghost hunched over slightly as he spoke to her and you saw her smile. her hand reached out and touched his arm softly and you felt your fists clench.Â
ghost wasnât yours .Â
he was barely even your friend. he could flirt with whoever he wanted. it shouldnât matter to you. and you knew you were overreacting. who's to say they were flirting? you hadnât known ghost to be the best charmer, so why would he all of a sudden be cozying up to a woman he only just met?
soapâs words popped into your head: come to think of it. i donât think iâve known ghost to have hooked up with anyone since iâve met the bastard.
all these rational thoughts and yet you ignored them. all you felt was a pang in your gut as you watched him instruct her, testing her skills, his hand lingering on her hip a bit too long. his eyes locked on hers.Â
you didnât feel any tears wellingâso that was an improvementâall you felt was disappointment. ghost was emotionally unavailable. he also explicitly said he didnât want you. this fantasy you had of him in your head was purely that: a fantasy.Â
you had thought maybe he felt differently with the way his eyes traced your curves last night in the light of the bathroom. that maybe him letting you see him with his mask off was him letting you in. that he wanted to form some sort of relationship with you even if it was foreign to him.
but all of those thoughts went out the door. there were so many reasons why it would never work between the two of you. seeing him with that woman wasnât what made you feel that way. all it did was remind you of the reality of your situation.
you sulked into priceâs office, the smell of cigars filling your nose.
priceâs warm greeting, his gentle smile, and his all-over fatherly presence set you back at ease.Â
when laswell entered, her soothing hand on your shoulder reminded you that you could live so fucking easily without ghost. you had a family here. and while you had hoped to let ghost become one of those people to you, it wasnât the end of the world by any means if he didnât.
a week had passed and you had resorted to pretending like anything private that ever happened between you and ghost had never occurred. you werenât going to sulk over him any longer. you thought he was attractive. that was it. you hooked up once and it didnât work out. you were an adult, you could move on.Â
you laughed animatedly at soap, grabbing his arm in your fit. ghost spotted you across the training room, your laughter floating over into his space, pissing him off.
he expected you to have wanted to talk to him after that night in his room. but you never did. you never sought him out. never came by to let him know everything at the infirmary checked out okay. granted, he never came after you either.Â
he got up when he saw you leaving and followed you out the door.Â
âiaso,â he called.
you stopped and spun to face him, smiling. âwhatâs up, lt.?âÂ
ghost was a bit taken aback by your friendly demeanor. not that you werenât a friendly person, but you were acting oddly like nothing ever happened. like ghost hadnât pulled you into his arms a week ago, his chest pounding and his arms shaking as he held you.
âjusâ wanted to see if you were okay,â he said dumbly.
âall good. donât worry, iâve been cleared to be back to work.â you smiled then turned and walked away.
ghost had never been left so dumbfounded before. he cracked his knuckles in annoyance.
you seemed to be ignoring him.Â
whenever ghost entered a room you were in, youâd leave. he saw you linking arms with soap as you walked the halls, never meeting ghostâs eyes. he knew soap was visiting you in the infirmary on your breaks and he always seemed awkward when it came up between them. you even managed to get out of a poker session where ghost was present. you had stood up the second he walked into that room, calling it a night and tossing your cards in the middle of the table.
âsheâs ignoring me,â ghost huffed as he shuffled through the dossiers on his desk. he was acting like he had any claim over you. like he had a right to your friendship.
âwho?â soap asked. ghost looked up and glared at his friend. âi think you give yourself too much credit. sheâs not ignoring you, lt. sheâs just accepted your rejection and moved on with her life.â
âi didnât reject her.â
soap rolled his eyes. âyou really wanna go down that road?âÂ
ghost mumbled in annoyance as he stared at the words on the paper before him.Â
âdidnât think youâd care, if iâm being honest.â
ghost glared at soap, waiting for him to elaborate since he clearly wanted to further this conversation.
â her opinion of you ,â soap clarified. âyou made it pretty clear you wanted nothing from her, so i just assumed that meant you wouldnât be bothered by her ignoring you nâall.âÂ
ghost tapped his pen on his desk. âso she is ignoring me, then.â
âi didnât say that.â
ghost knew he couldnât fight logistics with soap, with soap being⊠soap and all. âwe have actual shit tâgo over. important intel before we depart friday.âÂ
soap slipped into the chair in front of ghostâs desk. âyou started it.âÂ
âi didnâtâ- bloody hell ,â he grumbled rubbing his hand over his face. soap tried to hold back his smirk.Â
âyâknow sheâs coming with us,â soap said, referencing the mission soon to happen in the coming days based on the information the men had acquired from valeria.Â
âwell aware,â ghost said flatly.Â
the idea of you being forced to be in ghostâs proximity tomorrow, knowing you couldnât avoid it like you had been, made his chest swell slightly. he didnât want to admit this to himself, but he wanted you to want him. desperately . and hearing soap talk about you, always seeing the two of you together, ghost felt like he was pushing you straight into his friendâs arms.Â
he should have been okay with that. whether he found you attractive or not, he shouldnât have felt jealous when he saw you with soap. heâs found plenty of women attractive, and plenty of them were involved with someone else. that usually didnât bother ghost at all. he was fine admiring pretty ladies knowing they would never be his. he didnât want them to be his. so this resentment he was feeling towards soap was new to him.Â
he unclenched his fist.Â
âjusâ wanna make sure youâre gonna behave yourself,â soap chimed.Â
âchrist, johnny. iâm notââ
soap cut him off. âiâm serious, lt. i know i donât have this kind of authority, but she doesnât deserve whatever it is that's going on inside your twisted head.â soap gestured widely at ghost, implying he was all sorts of messed up. âiâd die protecting her. and if it means iâd have to die in your clutches, then so be it.â
ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and soapâs dramatics. though, he did admire soapâs loyalty.Â
shifting the conversation away from you, ghost debriefed soap on prep for the coming mission, letting him knowâ almost âeverything planned.Â
it was late when ghost spotted you. you didnât see him as he stalked you around the bend of the hallway.
finally, you were alone. not linking arms with soap or laughing with gaz. you were alone as you walked through the halls of the barracks. if you had known ghost would have spotted you, you would have likely stayed in your room. but you had no idea the masked man was trailing behind you.Â
ghost hadn't been planning on talking to you, irate by the way youâve been ignoring him, but when he saw you, his feet moved on their own accord. the hall lights flickered, creating an ominous glow. he surmised you were heading back to the infirmary even though he knew your shift was already over. maybe you forgot something?
and then one of ghostâs steps was a tad too loud because you looked over your shoulder and he watched as your eyes widened momentarily. you scrunched up your nose and faced forward, your pace increasing. âare you following me?â
âthis is my quarters jusâ as much as it is yours,â he grunted.Â
you rolled your eyes. âwell⊠it's plenty big enough. you could always go a different way.â
âstill not talkinâ to me, then?â
you could sense him catching up and it made the hackles on your neck rise. âwhatâre youââ
âi know youâve been ignoring me. donât try tâlie your way outta this.â
you turned around and began to walk backward so you could face him when you spoke. âiâm not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.â you crossed your arms over your chest.Â
âwell, good thing i wasnât askinâ.â
your mouth parted in surprise at his bluntness. you quickly spun on your heels, not wanting the emotions you had been shoving down for the past week to come back up. if you could just avoid him a little longer, youâd be able to move on. if he would only justâ
in your nerves, you reached a dead end of one of the many barren halls. you were going to turn and scurry past him, not even wanting to grab your bag you left in the infirmary any longer, you just wanted to get away from him. but before you had the chance, ghostâs arms were on either side of your head, hands flat against the wall, caging you into his chest. your back was to him and your only view was the blank drywall. the corner he had you trapped in was dark and you figured even if you did spin to face the beast behind you, you wouldnât be able to make much of him out. you hated that a swirl of arousal filled your stomach remembering him being this close to you in that tiny closet he shoved the two of you into all those weeks ago.Â
âghost, i donât wannaââ
â simon ,â he said a little aggressively.Â
you gulped, his words grazing the edge of your neck as he spoke. you were quiet as you waited for him to say more. âyou sure youâre ready to go back out on location?â he asked, referring to the upcoming mission you were going to be a part of.Â
âis that it? youâre worried iâm broken or some shit like that?â your words screamed irritation, but your voice sounded more hurt than angry. âthat i donât know my own limits and canât decide when iâm good to be back? that iâll slow you down? i told you i was cleared!â you knew you were inferring a lot from his one little sentence, but you wanted to be mad. to be angry at him.Â
âi didnât say that.â
âno. but itâs what you meant.â
you heard ghost sigh and his hands dropped down to his side. you felt the warmth of his chest still behind you so you didnât dare move to look at him.
âi know what itâs like tâlose everyone you love,â he started.Â
âwhat does that have to do with anyâ-?â
âwould you jusâ shut up for one second nâ listen for once?âÂ
you swallowed hard and nodded your head. he let out a breath. he knew he had snapped at you, but this was difficult for him. he wanted to get this out before he second-guessed himself and let you walk away forever.Â
âi lost my entire family to men a lot more evil than me. did everythinâ in my power to get revenge. so i know what itâs like to love and tâlose.â
âdid it help?â you asked softly. ârevenge?â
you could hear the tension in ghostâs words as he mumbled them behind you. the only reason he was able to answer this question was due to the fact that you were turned away from him. if you two had been looking into each otherâs eyes⊠he didnât think heâd have to ability to open up. âdepends how ya look at it. that kindâa dedication to deathânever stoppinâ till you feel blood on your handsâtakes a toll on ya. i think itâs what made me so⊠unbearable. but the general doesnât seem tâthink so. made me a stronger soldier in shepherdâs eyes.â
you felt your breath waver as you listened.Â
âi wouldnât have jusâ killed for them, i woulda died. it was years ago now that i was captured on duty. was tortured. buried alive. locked up. abused.â simon cleared his throat. âthink it made me unwillinâ to let people in , as you would word it. i donât know if i could survive another loss like that, like when i lost my mother and brother. sânot a feelinâ i ever plan on livinâ through again.â
âsimonâŠâ
âand you, â he said a bit more potently. âyou have been messinâ everythinâ up. when you nâ laswell were taken⊠it felt like when i saw my brother and his wife dead on their living room floor. the only thing i saw was red. i woulda done anything tâget you back. i couldnât let this happen again. i couldnât fail the people i cared about again.â
it pained you to know that simon placed all the blame on anything bad happening to those around him on himself. âlaswell, too?â you said, but more as a question. you were purposefully trying to avoid the romantic ideation behind his words.
âno,â he said immediately, without a second thought. âcourse i wanted her back. but it didnât feel the same as the way i wanted you.â
i wanted you . those words made your chest tighten.Â
âwhy are you telling me all this?â you finally asked after a lull.Â
âi jusâ wanted you tâknow that i donât mean tâhurt you. that maybe i needa try harder. and that⊠iâm sorry.â
you felt a single tear escape and slide down your cheek. you took a moment to steady your breathing, trying to reel in all of simonâs words.
when you spun to face him, unsure of what youâd find in his expression, you gasped. he was gone. you didnât even hear him as he took off down the hall with your back still to him.Â
eventually, walking alone back to your room, you let the tears fall freely. you cried for simonâs past. for his losses. for your own losses. for the strange sense of love you felt radiating off of him as he told you heâd move the world just to get you back safely. for the stupid feelings you had brewing in your chest. for the way you couldnât decide if you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or if you wanted to hold him as he told you more.Â
simon felt like he couldnât let someone else in. that he wouldnât survive it. but you wouldnât leave him if he did. and you needed to tell him that. you needed to show him that he might be a bit broken, lost from his path, but youâd help him find the light again, as cheesy as that sounded. you would show him how beautiful it was to love even after losing so much. that it was possible. he deserved to be loved. he deserved to be happy. he wasnât some emotionless robot, no matter what the army thought of him. and you wanted to help him realize that.Â
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I feel like I owe it to the people to post these together
Gaz is next and Price after him the people decided đ
LOOK AT THE M U GS
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To Be Alive In Summer
PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Betrayal had never been in your cards, and you definitely didn't see yourself being the one responsible for the act. When having to go undercover, first comes the problem of staging your death.
WORDCOUNT: 8.3k
WARNINGS: Angst, betrayal, intense gore, violence, death, allusions to intimacy, weapons, vulgar language, recovery, torture, happy ending, etc.
A/N: The final request is finished, hope you enjoy it @l-inkage! Onto the AUs next.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You didnât want to do it, but in this job, comfort was always an option and never a guarantee. It needed to be done. And that meant sacrifices had to be made to the dark altar of your contract with One-Four-One.
But this one just might break you in the process.Â
âAre you sure that,â you pause and think over the instructions that Price had just given youâstraight from the top of the line. âAre you sure that this is the best way, Sir?âÂ
The manâs lips are flat, eyes narrowed, he doesnât like this eitherâespecially if you donât. Johnâs a Captain, he tallies out orders and expects people to listen without hesitation; doesnât express his worry about their safety because that isnât what this is about at the end of the day. Itâs about keeping the good people outside of bases like these alive and breathing.
And right now that hinged on you being dead.
âBerto needs mercenaries,â Price grunts, âand any record of you needs to be wiped before we send you in.â
Vito Bertoâhead of a crime family that had been picking up traction in recent years, so much so that One-Four-One had to be put on it for covert reconnaissance before any more people ended up dead.
You would be sent in under the cover of an experienced mercenary; one among the ranks that Berto would need for a hostile takeover planned in three months on the Palace of Westminster in London. The House of Parliament.Â
Vito was one cocky son of a bitch if he expected no one to get word of this.
Your job was to uncover the exact date, time, and the mission plan before getting out as quickly as possible. In order to do that, the soldier holding your name needed to be dead so nothing could be traced back to you, your task force, or your loved ones.Â
And people needed to believe it.
âCanât the records just be forged, Sir?â You ask, the meeting room dark and pulsing with the cold air from the vents. âWhat about Gaz and Soap?â Your throat closes for a moment and you speak slightly lower. âSimon?â
Price sighs and crosses his arms, fixing the stance of his feet.
âTheyâll deal with it.â Inside of your pockets, your hands twitch.Â
He won't. Not inwardly. Â
âIâŠâ your jaw clenched.Â
Your relationship with Ghost wasâŠstrange. Youâd both had your fun, of course, and you had a casual air about that sort of thingâit had happened, but nothing more could ever come of it. There was a modicum of soft care with you two; an acknowledgment of partnership in the field and out of it.Â
You didnât have to explain to people that Ghost was closer to you than others. Youâd seen his face; that says enough.Â
âIt needs to look real,â Price explains, tilting his head down to you. âNot only for Laswell's state of mind but yours. I wonât be putting you in without giving you the best chance.âÂ
âYou canât tell them?â
âNegative. Security measure.â You frown, biting at your lip.
John closes his eyes and shakes his head. A second later a hand is set on your shoulder and the man leans in slightly to reassure you like a relative. You look up into your Captainâs gruff face, seeing the small amount of care he levels into his cerulean irises for you.Â
He squeezes your flesh, watching hard.
âWe need you for this, Trick.â The nickname was exactly why you were the only one who could do this.Â
You were the first choice. No one was better at undercover work.
âHow long would I be gone, Price?â Shifting out of the hold, you cross your arms and level him with a dead stare. âHow long do they have to live with this lie?â
John grunts. âLess than three months, yeah? But all of itâs up to how long it takes to gather intel. Full black.âÂ
âExfil point?âÂ
âTown five miles from Bertoâs estate. Cafe with a red door near the bookstore. Woman insideâll be your handler.â You turn away to glare at the far wall, hesitant even when you know you shouldn't be. This was your job.Â
Brown eyes keep flashing behind your eyesâa skeletal mask that stares with stained glistening blood, blood you yourself feel reflected on your own visage. A shared damning of two people who would never see those great halls of the afterlife. Neither of you are good.
Simon had to understand.Â
The Captain sees the shift in your expression.
âYou in?â He asks you with a blank look.Â
You take a deep breath, chest heavy and heart hurting. âI donât like it,â your voice is low, monotone. âBut, yeah, Sir, Iâm in.â
âGood,â the man nods, hooking his thumbs into his belt. âItâll happen in three days. Be ready.â
You watch him walk out of the room, patting you on the shoulder one last time before the door shuts behind him with a click of finality that pierces your lungs. You clear your throat and swallow down saliva, turning your face away as if ashamed.Â
Itâs the quiet that gets to you in that momentâthe encompassing nothingness. So often you would have moments like these with Simon. Just sitting; not taking. But this silence was so different.Â
This was betrayal.Â
After you steady the slight tremor in your hands, you scoff and shake your head backing up a step before leaving the room; turning off the lights.Â
You walk down the long hallway, feet heavy as your mind runs, and overhead the lights buzz like flies. Eyes stuck to the floor, your shoulders are hunched in with thought and your lids half-closed in a display of obvious inner turmoil.Â
The shadow that waits for you, leaning against the wall, you walk past entirelyâmissing it and not hearing the confused call of your name behind you because of it.
âTrick!â Your hand comes up to itch at your chin, fingers pushing into your flesh. The aggressive Manchester accent slides off of you until large fingers curl into the back collar of your vest rig.Â
You breathe in sharply, blinking in surprise as your feet get pulled back a step or two, pace halting as Ghost curls around your body, staring down at you. His brows are narrowed, that mask still on and the bottom fabric twisted in the obvious downward press of his lips.
âBloody hell is wrong with you, then?âÂ
Sighing, you scowl and shake him off of you, moving back to allow yourself some air. Did he really have to show up now? Why was he even here, you had to ask yourself. Was heâŠwaiting for you?
âNothing,â you donât look at him, speaking low. âDistracted, is all.âÂ
Ghost crosses his arms slowly, his brows flinching briefly as he makes a sound in the back of his throat. âMeeting go well?âÂ
âFine.â He can tell somethingâs wrong; you know he canâheâs the best at interrogations for a reason. Ghost knows when someone is lying to him.Â
You glance at his chest before you begin to open your mouth.Â
What could telling him hurt? Just a hint. Heâd get itâI know he would. Berto had the nickname âThe Tanner,â given to him by his men. When he found out anyone had double-crossed him, heâd take a large breaking knife and separate the thin layers of skin from his victims. Intel suggests he keeps them awake for all of it, stopping when they pass out only to start again when they wake back up.Â
If there was any leak in this baseâŠany at allâŠyou wouldnât be coming back.Â
You wouldnât be coming back to him.Â
Simonâs thighs shift.
âTalk to me.â He always speaks like he doesnât care about the answer, but youâd be a fool this far into your⊠relationship? To believe that he didnât. Youâd seen Simon panic over your injured body beforeâit told you enough.Â
The easy moments and the side-eyed looks when he thought you didnât notice or werenât doing the same to him.Â
Your fingers twitch, forcing a smirk that didnât convince even you. Your heart was telling you to explain it to him, but your brain was firmly set behind iron doors; tongue held back by iron tongs.Â
âPersonal matters, Simon. Nothing you need to worry about, Big Guy.â He doesnât look away from your eyes. Brows set in a line and that mask jeering at you; almost mocking.Â
The Lieutenant doesnât answer and your heart is visible from under your gear.
âJ-just,â you stutter, face getting hot as you look away. âItâs not that I donât want to tell you, itâsâŠâÂ
Trailing off, you rub at the back of your head in a self-soothing motion.Â
Simon blinks slowly and you hear a large chest-rattling sigh. He shrugs in that way only he canâa fast jerk of shoulders that looks more like heâs trying to push off a bug than simply trying to move past what youâre saying to him.Â
âDoesnât make a difference,â it does. âGarrick and MacTavish are waitinâ down at the firing range. Best get down there âfore one comes looking like a kicked dog.â You can still feel him digging into you. Knives and the suspicion in his tone.Â
You donât want to do this to him. Not after all that youâve gone through together.Â
âRight.â Your feet are moving before he is, planted into the floor and pushing off through the small pinches of electricity in the nerves. Pushing out a hard laugh, you try to send him a light smile. âDid you tell them to be ready to get their arses beat?âÂ
Simon looks down at you as he walks beside your form in large steps; arms swinging. âHavenât seen âem yet. Waiting for you.âÂ
If it were possible to shrivel up from guilt, youâd be nothing but bones.
âO-oh,â you huff, but it sounds like all of the air has been expelled from your lungs. âYou didnât have to do that, yâknow.â
Simon grunts, accent grating as he stares ahead. âWanted to.âÂ
âGood. Thatâs nice.â You feel like screaming. âThank you.â
Itâs nearly instantaneous how fast his eyes go dark with concern. âYou sure that head of yours is on straight, Trick?â
You push open the doors outside and wonder if you even have the ability to answer him; out of everyone, you canât lie to Simon.
âNo,â your lips admit quietly, self-degrading in its own right.Â
A hand grabs you by the wrist and before you can slip out, youâre being pulled back into the building and pushed into a side room.Â
âHey!â You shout, eyes flashing as the door is shut behind you. Youâre released and the light is immediately turned on. âSimon, what the hell are you doing?âÂ
âEnough,â he levels, and your arms are clasped so youâre facing his chest, looking up into his serious and hard gaze. âFuckinâ speak to me.âÂ
Youâre surprised at how insistent he is about this.Â
âIâm not telling you anything,â you speak through stutters and he growls in his throat. His hands are like motel lava even under his gloves and above your skinâburning like a brand.
âWhat happened in that meeting room, Trick?â
âItâs classified,â you say, harder than intended, spitting the words with a hint of desperation. If not for your own safety, then for his, but you know that if he keeps asking then youâll tell him the truth.Â
They were going to stage your death, and they wonât be making it pretty.Â
âFuck classified,â he leans in closer, curling over you. âYouâre acting like someoneâs bloody taking you hostage.â
âSimon! Itâs notââ
âCut the bullshit!â You growl and try to shove away from him, struggling with glaring eyes that go sharp with the onset of tears. âSomethings got you worried and I wanna know what it is.â
Simon wasnât the greatest at articulation, but neither were you.Â
You knew he was trying to tell you he was concerned. The man was holding you tight, but not hurting you; his face close and his shoulders wide. Along your face his eyes were darting, as if he could peel back your skin and make you explain what Price had told you.Â
The Captain had given the Lieutenant a look as heâd seen him waiting for you but had said nothing. That alone had tipped Ghost off to something being wrong.Â
But you werenât having it.
Yanking out of Simonâs hands, you shake your head and put on your worst glareâmeeting muddy brown and huffing.Â
âMind your own business, Riley. Itâs for your own good.â The man blinks in mute shock, fingers in the air twitching before they fall to his sides.
You speed-walk out of the room before he can speak, lips slightly parted at your strange behavior.Â
For his own good? What in the hell did that mean?Â
Simonâs jaw clenches, a grunt in his chest as he aggressively rolls his wrist. He turns to follow after. The both of you donât talk for the rest of the day.
â
Your body shakes along with the helo as it takes off, carrying you away from the scene of gunfire down below. In your earpiece, you hear the loud calls and yelling from your friends. Gaz is calling out to Price to give him permission to move up; the Captain too busy grappling Soap to the ground.Â
Ghost is taking cover behind a wall, but heâs not quiet.Â
âTrickâs in the damn building!âÂ
No, Iâm not, you want to flick on the line and tell him. Over the three days before this operation you'd barely spokenâin fact, youâd been avoiding all of them fervently by the mass amount of guilt in your stomach.Â
In the nights, you hadnât even slept, and now youâre sure itâll take even longer too.
Their forms become tinier, and you grasp the roofâs handle as the helo rises farther and farther.Â
âPrice!â Simon barks. âWe have to get herââ
âThereâs no time!â John responds, grunting and forcing Johnny down as he spits curses and tries to call your name over the comms. You flinch violently, looking away for a moment. âWeâre surrounded!â
âI can get through!â Bullets wiz through the comms, and you can nearly imagine you are down thereâtrapped in the house down the way after being shot and injured by hosties. But youâd never been in that house. Never been alone down the way for recon.Â
Youâd been at the second exfil point. Price knew it. Laswell knew it.Â
But Simon had not.Â
âNegative, Ghost! Keep where you are, we can get to her later. We need toââ The building you were supposed to be in explodes in a fiery wreck; a great bloom cloud going into the air as the helo shakes from the after-blast.Â
You have to turn your face away, shielding your eyes. The pilot calls to see if youâre alright, but you donât answer. All you can hear is the screams.
âTrick!â
âSimon, get back into bloody cover!âÂ
âFucking Hell! Trick, answer me!â It gets too muchâthe bareness of his panic for you. The panting breath; the running stomp of feet.
You rip the connection from the radio on your vest and place a hand over your mouth, breathing as if you had really been in an inferno like a piece of fodder.Â
Simon had already been through so much in his life, and doing this to him as well as the task force was the definition of betrayal of the loyalty youâd cultivated.
Of the love.
Because you did love himâeven if youâd never say it to each other. If he found out about what you did, which he would eventually, in one way or another, heâd hate you for the rest of his life. So perhaps you were mourning, as you stare below as the helicopter takes you higher and higher up. Farther away from him. You were mourning what you had, because you knew it would never be the same.Â
Simon Riley would never trust you again, and all you had to blame was yourself.Â
The tiny tears dribble out of you and fall all the way down to the ground, where the man still screams for you to answer him; John barks orders with a sheen of panic in his eyes from the bare-bones ferality of the Lieutenant. Brown eyes blazed and cities burned in his pupils.Â
John had underestimated the bond that the two of you shared.Â
And he just might pay the price for it.
â
Getting through selection was far easier than getting through SAS training, Vito Berto seemed to only want mercenaries that had the faintest hint of the ability to hold a smuggled weapon. It made sense because if the people he was planning to send in were well-trained, it would be easier to trace to himâability equaled a higher level of intelligence. Planning. Resources.Â
To fit in, you made sure to miss a few of your shots, even if it made your instinctual perfectionism rise. John would have torn you a new one if youâd missed this many during your selection all those years back. Probably would have asked how a Muppet like you had gotten this far with shite aim like that.
But Berto ate it up like Sunday dinner. Gave you the nickname Cross, actually. Like the crosshair of a scope.
It was safe to say you despised him.Â
But the days grew longer and the nights short with all of your running around. Youâd found out that your Captainâs timeline was incorrectâthe attack wasnât in three months, it was in two. And while Berto was cocky, he wasnât reckless.Â
He somehow knew there was a breach in the ranks; you could see it by how he looked over the squads in the underground bunker, all of you hidden under rock and stone like prisoners. The man would sneer, eyes filtering back and forth from the perch.Â
Sometimes you had to stop yourself from simply taking the shot presented in front of you and deal with the consequences afterward.
Price had been clear: all of the people gathered here needed to be taken care of quickly and quietlyâif you snapped, the rest would disappear like roaches. Alive and biding time.
During those two months, the thoughts of Simon wouldnât leave you.Â
Moments that seeped in behind closed eyelids after youâd slunk back into bed, the USBs full of vital intel stashed into the lining of your uniform in a small hidden pocket. His twitching smile and those deep scars along his face; the ones that would never go away.Â
In those moments you wondered what it would be like if you had told him how much you cared for his quiet company or his dark humor. The way he would level a hand on the small of your back off duty at the bars as a way to silently shield you from the stares from patrons.Â
Youâd never be able to tell him now.Â
Vito âThe Tannerâ Berto knew of a leak, and when you came back to the bunker after sending out the multiple USB sticks, the physical files, and the first-hand accounts of what was going onâeager for just a little more to make this betrayal worth itâŠhe was waiting.Â
You could only fight off so many others, no matter how subpar the training on their part, before sheer mass overtook ability. Like a house of cards with a bowling ball, you were shoved to the ground surrounded by multiple dead bodies of those youâd taken down with youâwrithing and hissing as if a feral animal.Â
Restraints were leveled with your wrists; your head pulled back so your nose faced the ceiling. You only stopped struggling when the chilled barrel of a pistol was set under your chin.
Breath stilling, it was hard to understand how, even then, all that was in the front of your mind was Simon. Simon and his brown eyes. Simon and his screams when that building went up in fire and smoke.
âTrick!â
You could still hear the exact pitch and rhythm like it was yesterday.
âCross,â Berto mutters, gun heavy as it digs into your flesh. Men pant and grapple to keep you back as you sneer and jerk your arms. âI should have known it would be you.âÂ
âWell,â you growl, teeth bared, âobviously you didnât.â
A slow smirk runs on his lips.Â
âNo, but Iâll have to rectify this. I canât have you getting in the way.â You can only hope that the intel gets out before the end of the second monthâif not, then all of this was for nothing.Â
Why couldnât you have left when you had the chance?
âFucking Hell! Trick, answer me!â
He was why.Â
Simonâthe source of all of your problems and the only person who could fix them besides yourself. Itâs a sick joke really.Â
Vito grabs your chin and you huff out a swift breath, heart skipping beats as he burrows his digits tightly into your skin; hard enough to leave marks. He sighs and clicks his tongue and you have to keep back a whimper as his nails create crescents along your jaw.Â
âYou wonât tell me anything, will you, then?â
âNegative,â you spit, heated.Â
He scoffs. âOf course.âÂ
Berto throws your head back as you try to snap out and bite at his hand, rabid, but the manâs already gone and the mercenaries behind you yank you back like a dog on a leash. Your knees slide along the floor and you rage trying to turn around before the others are forced to shove your face into the ground. There is a distinctive snapping in your nose bridge as the concrete comes up to meet you; the tears come instinctually afterâunable to be stopped as you yell in pain.Â
Blood floods your nostrils and mouth, making you cough as Vitoâs voice echoes in your ringing ears.Â
âLet me get my knives.âÂ
â
They had you chained in some damp back room, the corners riddled with mold spores and the air heavy with condensation. You were tied to the ceilingâfeet dangling uselessly below you and the tips of your boots dragging across the floor with a quiet scrape and a creak of metal.Â
Above you, on the hook, the chains were tied so ruthlessly that youâd lost circulation to your arms entirely, nothing but an electric buzzing far inside of your bones. Akin to the static of a TV screen in between connections. Your clothes had been shredded by bladesâlong sections of your flesh underneath, cut away.Â
Blood stains most, if not all, of the floor. It drips from your nose; it falls like rain to pool at your feet in rippling crimson.Â
Simon had been your partner during required interrogation training and he was far better at it than you. The man could go for hours through the mental strain that was leveled out by other soldiers on him; stoic and silent. It was the way his eyes would blank that told you he could live through far worseâthat he already had. Youâd had your fair share as well, but never before had you felt as hopeless as this.Â
There was a slim chance that anyone would come for you here. Laswell and Price would carry the guilt of it, but you didnât want them to.Â
The blood slips over your lips, and the taste of copper makes you gag; spitting out saliva from your lips.Â
It was half your choice, after all.Â
You try to slip into a happy memory as the lights fade in and out, the footsteps and mutterings outside the door of little interest anymore.
ironic, that the man with the mask of a dead person brought you comfort when so little could.Â
You never got to tell him how much you loved him. A thin smile comes across your lips.Â
âShouldnât be out here this late,â the man utters as you lay out in the field, arms and legs splayed and twitching when the long grass brushes against them. âPast curfew.â
âLike you aren't out here with me?â You raise an eyebrow, looking up at the stars now that the large base lights have been dimmed. The air is cold, and the breeze makes you shudder through a chill. But you donât wipe that smile from your lips. âBit hypocritical, Simon.â
You hear a low grunt.Â
âOut âere because you werenât answering your damn door.â A shadow slips to your side, and the man settles down with a huff on his lips. Simon retired his combat mask for a simple balaclava instead, and he sighed long as he settled his arm on the bent form of his right leg.Â
You blink over at him, raising a brow.Â
âLooking for me, Ghosty?âÂ
âBloody hell, Trick.â You chuckle, shifting your arms to rest on your chest as you look back at the stars far above.Â
âOh, itâs alright, Big Guy.â The man shakes his head. âI wonât tell anyone youâre going soft for me.âÂ
âIâm not.â
âYou definitely are.â
âTrick, Iâm tellinâ you toââ
âShh!â You wave a hand in his direction, silencing him and making him blink at you in deep annoyance and confusion. Ghostâs eyes were narrowed, the black of his face paint gone and smelling like standard issue body wash.Â
He must have gotten out of the shower and come to see if you were still awake before making his way outside when you never answered the door. Funny how he knew where you would be.
âFucking what, then?â He growls, shoulders wide.
You place a finger to your ear, shifting so youâre sitting up on one elbow and facing Simon. On your face, a wide smile lingers, but on his, the dark brows narrow with knowledge of a deceitful event incoming. âListen.âÂ
A silence falls, Simonâs ears twitching for something in the long grass or across the field. Nothing. Nothing but the breeze and the way your face glowed as you watched him, eyes glinting with amusement.Â
After a long minute or two, he looks at you with utter bewilderment. You lean in closer, poking a finger into his bicep.
âCan you hear it, Simon?â Youâre one of the few he lets call him that, though never in public.
He glares. âNo.â
You flutter your digits in the air, giggles trapped in your mouth. A whisper hits the Lieutenantâs ears. âSilence.â
âBugger off,â he hisses as you reel back and belt out laughter, holding your sides and lightly curling into yourself. âYouâre worse than Johnny. Jesus.â
âAww, câmon!â You let your laughter die down to chuckles, sanctity of night broken, but not so between the two individuals who look at each other with brimming affection none will name.Â
âYouâre the one that came to find me, remember?â Your tease makes Ghost roll his eyes, looking away across the open area with its wave-like grasses.
âYouâre right, then, I did,â Simon grunts, his hand coming up to rub his neck. âMistake on my part.â
âJerk,â a soft slap is leveled to his arm and he chuckles deeply. âBut you canât fool me, Ghosty. I know youâll always come lookinâ for meâIâm too important to you to lose.â
âKeep kiddinâ yourself, Trickster.â He doesnât say how he would agree with the statement, it was true after all. âI wonât be dragged into your bloody messes.â
He wouldnât leave you behind to drown in them, even if it was as simple as you sneaking out of your bunk to watch the stars.Â
Youâd both known each other too long for that.
You smile over at him as he sighs before slipping off his mask, itching at his stubble with hard fingers. The air settles. No comment about it entering in on the see-through wavesâthere didnât need to be one.Â
âMhm,â you hum, beaming. âYou keep thinking that, Big Guy.â
âTrick!â Your memory shifts, and you sit up immediately. Youâd thought youâd just heardâŠ
Eyes dart out over the field, jumping back and forth rapidly. You look to the side, but Simon is gone entirely.
âSimon?â Heart beating, you stand fully up and turn in a fast circle, confusion and fear infecting your mind.
âTrick!â Pain sparks in your body, and you hiss and grab at your clothes. You blink so fast that you half-believe the world is ending.
âS-Simon?!â What was happening? What was hurting so bad? Where did Simon go?
âTrick, fucking wake up!â
Your eyes snap open and you instantaneously feel the burning pain inside of your ribs.Â
The ground is underneath you, hard and wet from your own blood as you yowl and cough, air entering your lungs in quick bursts.Â
Hands encase your cheeks, shaking your headâkeeping you present.Â
A skeletal mask littered with droplets of human fluid stares down at you, and behind it, panicked brown eyes slash through your psyche in the small moment between agony and confusion.Â
Simon?
âHoly hell.â Itâs that same Manchester accent. The same scrape of vocal cords. âAlright, Sweetheart. Keep those eyes openâkeep âem on me, yeah?âÂ
What was going on? You try to open your mouth to say something but all of it is lead. Were your ribs broken? How? And why was Simonâs bottom covering pushed up to his nose; his lips stained with blood?Â
The man frantically goes to press into his radio.
âThis is Bravo 0-7,â he breathes, and you whimper as your throat gets clogged with congealed saliva and blood. You cough violently, gagging, and Ghost quickly turns you on your side to help you expel it. His hand is hard on your shoulder.Â
âI say again, this is Bravo 0-7!â Those browns never leave you, shocked and serious. âPrice, Iâve got âer. Itâs not good; had to revive but I donât know how long sheâs got.â
Revive? Youâre spacing in and out, limp, and trying to breathe.Â
Simon tears open his medical pouch and begins wrapping tourniquetsâpacking the wounds with gauze until you can get proper medical treatment on the helo back to base.Â
âBloodyâŠâ he trails, Price barking an order over the connection to bring you out; the firefight was moving to the East to give him an opening to sneak back out. âCâmon, Trick.â
Everything swims; you want to go back to that fieldâthose stars.Â
Simon was here? Truly? The thought was hard to understand in your state.Â
âS-Simââ Your voice gurgles, and you canât feel your legs. You had to tell him. Tell him the good and the bad; all of it.
âDonât talk,â he growls, moving you as your body seizes in a state of static shock. âIâm getting you out of âere.â Youâre lifted up in one grand movement, Simon grunting as he shifts you carefully into a bridal hold. âThen youâre going to explain this to me when youâre squared. Wonât take no for an answer.âÂ
You could feel the anger sizzling off of him even half-conscious. The mixing emotions that convulsed into a mess of adrenaline and desperation. Forcing your eyes to stay open, you blink up at him as he glances down at you at the same time, just before he exits the door he had broken down.Â
The visible skin of his lips and chin tighten; going down with the twitch of with a serious frown. Something flutters behind his eyes as he stares before glancing away and clearing his throat.Â
âEyes on me, Trickster. Donât you dare close âem.â You grimace as he begins jogging, heavy boots echoing along the empty corridor as the sounds of gunfire and pandemonium sound off from the other side of the bunker.Â
It was hard to push back the black at the sides of your vision; already it was seeping back in. Ghost holds you tight, unwilling to even let you slip an inch from his grip as the lights above swirl, brightening and dimming.Â
âOi!â Youâre jostled, and you snap back to it, tensing as your wounds flex and pull. Simon glares. âWhatâd I just say?â
Your weakly poisoned grimace makes his lips twitch up.Â
âGood.âÂ
Thereâs the sudden flick of a safety being clicked off, and the Lieutenant halts in a jerking of feet and a ruffle of canvas.
âIâve heard about a Ghost making his rounds, hm?â Berto stands at the end of the hall, pistol held in front of him. âI saw an apparition disappearing to find one of its own. No worries. Sheâll be a ghost, too, soon enough. Perhaps Iâll have to put you both to rest together.âÂ
The voice makes you go panicked, remembering the tear of flesh and the sharp blades slicing your skin away, chunks that peeled, and the long stripes of flexible tendons. Your lungs fight for breath, your head weakly slapping into Simonâs neck after an attempt to move your body. Limbs shake and battle nerves; the fabric of your brain.
Your blood stains the manâs gear all the way down the front. Itâs dripping to the floor, down his arms and off his elbows. Youâre bathing him in itâa full-body baptism of betrayal.Â
âBerto,â Ghost says, accent casual despite the gun leveled at him. The name is drawn out. âApologies, but Iâm taking back whatâs mine.â He tilts his head. âScratch that, Iâm not apologizing for getting back on a Bastard like you, eh? Pity I canât hang you up like a hog, Iâm proper good with a blade too, but as you can see, Iâm on a crunch.âÂ
Vitoâs face goes confused, skin scrunching. âWhatââ
The bang of a bullet being discharged echoes down the way. The clatter of a great expulsion of air from lungs. Stumbling. Gargles.Â
The slam of a body to the ground.Â
Smoke spreads up from under the clutch of your knees, where Ghost holds the abyssal body of an M19 forward, his finger lightly on the trigger before he shifts it back in well-practiced discipline.Â
âSlag,â he spits.Â
Simon hikes you farther into him, lending over his available body heat as you shiver. He presses his face into the top of your head, sighing in relief before starting his pace again. The manâs lips brush your flesh as your lids flutter.Â
âStill with me?â You whine into his neck, fingers twitching. âI know it hurts, Love. I know. Easy with it.âÂ
It didnât just hurt, it burned. Buried like the nine layers of Hell.Â
He keeps whispering to you, slinking around corners and stepping into shadows. By the time he makes it outside with you, the chill of the air on the bottom of his face he didnât even bother to re-cover, youâre tapering on the edge of oblivion again.Â
Teetering like a porcelain doll on the end of the high shelf.Â
âBravo 0-6, leaving the bunker now, I need that MedEvac prepped and ready to go,â Simon speaks quickly, not wasting a single instant.Â
Johnâs voice wafts through. âCopy, 0-7. Helo is cominâ in, be ready itâs going to get hot!âÂ
âAffirm. Keep it frosty down âere.â Thereâs a low chuckle and the swift wizz of bullets.Â
âGet our Trickster back in one piece, Ghost.â Simon hears the buzzing of helicopter blades in the night, a slick form descending from the dark clouds not moments later. He turns away from the flurry of air, walking hurriedly backward so the air doesnât aggravate you.Â
âTrick,â Ghost calls to you above the noise, hearing the hurried feet of medics coming out to take you from him. Your face is scrunched and you burrow into him. âIâm handing you over!âÂ
You try to open your eyes enough to convey your unease at that. You have to tell him. You have to explain why you had to do it. The guilt is eating you; gnawing with red teeth and gripping with devilâs claws. You have to explain that you love him even if he hates you now.Â
Medics grapple you away, and you are in pain, lips peeling back to gasp sharply, thrashing.Â
No!
âFuck,â Ghost growls, pulling you away from the men as they ask him what in the bloody hell heâs doing. He doesnât even knowâall he knows is that heâs pissed at you for what you did, but never in a million years did that mean he wanted to see you in pain.Â
Simon canât lie, when he was told you were alive, the universe had held its breath. A miracle. A ruse. But alive. Alive and trapped.Â
âStop it!â He yells, caging you into him. âIâm here! Iâm right here, Trickster!âÂ
Youâre already too gone for it, not recognizing the metal of the helo as youâre settled on your back, the loud slam of the door. Fingers pull and prob as you hiss and snap, suffocating.Â
Ghost holds down your shoulders, his eyes right above yoursâbut youâre not looking. The helo takes off
âBloody hell,â Simon yells. âLook at me!âÂ
You donât know what compels you to do so, but your eyes open just the slightest bit wider. Brown melts into your pupils, taking you in and reminding you of chilled summer nights. Simon. You pant but stop struggling.Â
The medics jump into action, ripping away the remains of your shirt and pants so they can get to the wounds; assess the damage done.Â
âThatâs it,â Simon sighs long, swallowing. âThatâs a girl. There we go, Sunshine.âÂ
You blink, face peeled as everything swirls far more aggressively this time.Â
âListen to me, Trick. Iâm right here. Iâm not going anywhere, you understand. You said Iâd always find you, yeah?â Hands grab your cheeks. âWell, I fucking did, eh? I found you. Weâre gonna fix you up, Sweetheart. Itâll all be gone by morning.â You stutter down a breath, ragged throat stretching.
âLet âem fix you upââ
âI love you.âÂ
It all fades to black, but all you remember is the sweep of horror that spreads behind the manâs eyes.
â
âYou went back,â Priceâs arms are crossed, and he stares at you as your fingers play with the sheets of the hospital bed. âWhy?â
You sigh and rub at your face.
âTrick.â
âI felt like I needed to,â you give away, twitching your fingers out in an expression of nonchalantness. âI feltâŠâ Your voice trailed off into a growl. âBad.â
âFeelings arenât a part of this, Trickster, you bloody know that,â John hisses, leaning his head closer as you glare silently. âIf youâd left when you could, none of this would have fucking happened.âÂ
âI feel bad, Price!â You break, snapping. âI fucking know! But I-I thought if I just got a bit more intel, then this would have been worth it.â Taking a deep breath you shake your head and rub at your face, all of the bandages and stitches pulling tight. âItâs eating at me. I canâtâŠI canât just act like what I lied about can be forgotten.âÂ
You shrug as the man listens silently, monitors beeping and the small buzz of the overhead lights.Â
âSoap barely looks at meâGaz gave me that fucking pity smile and it makes me want to scream.â
âTheyâll get over it.â The Captain repeats what he said months prior firmly. âThey know the Op was top priority, theyâll grow up and be back to fucking around in days.â
You scoff, muttering in a dejected tone. âHe wonât.â
John is still, fixing his feet from under him as he rolls his nose and looks away slowly.Â
Simon hadnât come to visit once in the time youâd been here in the wardâfour days. That fact alone makes you restless. You donât remember what you said to him, if you said anything. But you knew that he wasnât going to be going out of his way to be near you anymore.Â
Youâd taken a grenade to the relationship youâd built. Toy building blocks are scattered.Â
âSimonâsâŠSimon,â Price ends on. You groan and itch at the IV in your hand. âHe cares about you more than anyone, yeah? He just needs time. Wasnât himself after the set-up.â
âIâve been told,â Gaz had informed you about the Lieutenant's self-isolation after your âdeathâ. The snappy ordersâdeathly glares. Heâd gone back to the ruthless man he was in the field and instead of being directed at his enemies, it was directed at them.
Kyle explained how heâd argued with Price about how he could have gotten to you, before abruptly falling silent and stalking away as if a flip had been switched. Snake eyes and clenched fists.Â
Theyâd heard him in the gym late at night, reaming on the punching bags. They didnât think he slept more than three hours per day if the red lines in his eyes were anything to go by.
And then they were told that you were alive but captured, and heâd gotten worse.
Youâd nearly started sobbing when the Sergeant had told you all of that.
âI betrayed his trust, Price,â you level. âIâŠI never wanted to do that to him. Ever. Not Simon.â
A shadow passes by the door just as the Captain grunts. âThatâs the job.â
âThatâs not the job I signed up for when I got into this. We donât lie to our own.â
ââWe get dirty, the worldâââ You cut him off.
âYeah, yeah, âstays cleanâ.â Your eyes level with his. âI can do the dirty work, John, you know that. Infiltration and undercover work is what Iâm good at.â The man nods slightly. âBut if you ask me to betray One-Four-Oneâs trust again, Iâm out.â
Blue eyes blink in shock, but you donât let him speak.
âFind someone else to get fake blown up in a building. I canât get his fucking screams out of my head.â John watches you silently, eyes narrowed.Â
You meet that gaze head-on, not backing down from this.
The Captain shakes his head a minute later. âBloody made for each other,â he mutters under his breath, grunting. Another shadow slips past going the opposite direction, probably a nurse.
Without another word John turns and exits the room, tossing a hand behind his head casually in a way to say goodbye.
You huff and roll your eyes, heat on your cheeks.Â
The day wains, and you let the nurses come in to do their checkups and replace the IV. As the curtains are pulled back into place, supper sits heavy in your stomach.Â
You wanted to see Simon.Â
You knew it wouldnât go well, and wouldnât be the goody-goody outcome you prayed forâŠbut you felt wrong without apologizing in person. It went against your morals, and already those were incredibly skewed. Maybe heâd yell, or even ignore you as if you werenât there.
Simon wasnât above not speaking to people he didnât like.
You had to try.
When all was dark, you shuffled out of the hospital bed and fought the weakness of your legs. Shaking like a leaf, you walked around with only your tied gown, unapologetic of the slit down the back showing flashes of your bra and underwear.Â
It wouldnât be anything the Lieutenant hadnât seen before.
Walking through the silence, you sigh and stand outside of his door; dread in your heart and seeping from the pulled stitches of your wounds. Your bare feet on the tile make you shiver.Â
Lifting up a fist, you hesitate.Â
Your hand hovers over the wood, sliding forward before you pull it back to you. Closing your eyes tight, you clench your jaw once and take a deep breath.
Knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock.
The sequence was your call sign. If you knocked like that, he would know it was youâwhereas Simon's own was just a single slam of the side of his fist.
The only real problem now was that he wasnât answering.
You stare dumbly at the barrier, blinking like a fool. It takes you longer than youâd like to admit to understand the realization that he wasnât ignoring youâhe just wasnât in his room.Â
Taking a step back, you rub the back of your neck in exasperation and hurry to the nearest exit.
âOf course,â you breathe. You know exactly where he is at a time like this.
The field holds a standing shadow, a ghost of issued fatigues with a thick jacket against the chill that leaves you shivering. Simon stares out over the training grounds with his hands in his pockets, balaclava pulled all the way down to hide him from you.Â
You come to a slow halt behind him and stare.Â
Itâs not long before the man gunts, turning his head back from over his shoulder to look at you blankly. He knew you were there.
The eye contact stays for a long, long whileâuntil youâre hypnotized in the shades of brown and amber and the large build that seems to broaden because of your appearance.
âIâm here to apologize.â You say it breathlessly. âIâm not asking you to hear me out, but I have to let you know I regret doing it. Price said that it was time-sensitive and Iââ
Stopping yourself, you look away. It sounded too much like an excuse, you hissed to yourself. At the end of the day, it was still your acceptance that pushed the pawn forward.Â
âIâm sorry, Simon,â you breathe. âI betrayed your trust.â
His eyes are piercing you, but you still canât look at him. The man slightly turns your way. His voice was monotone and grunting out like a dog.
âYou think I couldnât handle it?â Your heart starts, and youâre shaking your head instantly.
âNo.â You explain quicklyâhonestly. âItâs thatâŠI didnât want you to.âÂ
You hear his lips take in a quiet breath. Simon rolls his shoulders before looking away from you. Nothing could have prepared you for what came next.
âYou said you loved me.â Your body freezes, jaw going slack as your face drops. You donât speak, mute as if the air in your lungs has been stolen.
You had doneâŠwhat?
All of your tricks couldnât get you out of this one.
âI,â you force a fake laugh, hands beginning to shake. âI, what? No, Iâm sure thatâs not what I said. A-are you sure it wasnât, like, an âI appreciate youâ or maybe aâŠa,â your voice catches. âA whole âIâm fond of youâ sort of thingâŠ? Hm?â
Simon takes a step forward and you take one back. This was worse than torture, you decided. The pain in your pulling stitches and re-set nose was welcome here.
âTrick,â Ghost utters, and you stare hard at his neck, humming. âStop talking.â
âCopy,â you whisper quickly, shoulders falling.Â
Heâs so close you can feel his body heat melting into you, and you want nothing more than to touch him. Simonâs hand comes up to your chin, and he angles it up as you stop breathing, lips parted.
âI heard you in the med ward talkinâ to Price. Was outside the door the âole time.â The shadow.Â
He tilts your head to the side to stare at the medical tape over the slashes in your skin. The scars wonât bother youâyou had plenty of others to show as well. But Simon wasâŠstudying you. Assessing.Â
His eyes blink slowly with those long pale lashes, and they slide up to you as he leans in close to your ear. Still, you stand comatose.
âYou put me through a fucking heap âo hurt, Love.â You stare over his shoulder, not speaking, not moving.Â
Simon leans back and lets go of your chin, brushing a finger over your nose and the puffy skin there.
âNever do that again.â Itâs final, how he says it. But the layers of depth are plain to hear. Simon speaks low and evenâgaze trapping yours like a curse.Â
You know he wonât talk about the things youâve heard. The aggression or the late-night gym trips. Youâve known him for years, and know his brain like the back of your hand.
Shivering, you nod once, content with not answering verbally to break the sanctity of the moment. Seeing Simon like this made you ease your fears. You clear your throat to push back the stuffiness.
âThought you held grudges, Big Guy?â Nearly not heard, you mutter and pick at where the IV needle is supposed to be.Â
A hand catches yours and stops you from making it bleed.
âDo,â Ghost grumbles, turning your hand over and moving his face closer until you feel his breath. âJust not with my Bird.âÂ
His balaclava is suddenly up to his nose, and those lips that had been covered in your blood previously situated themselves perfectly to yours.Â
You gasp, arm outstretched beside you in shock.Â
Youâd kissed him before, but this felt different. More intimate. Simonâs arms slip around your waist, and you retaliate by locking your shaking arms behind his back, feeling the gentle passes of his lips.Â
Mouth to mouth, you breathe each other in as if grasping for the otherâs soul in desperation. A desperation that tells you how much the beast of a man around you was terrified of your death and the body he had to carry into the heloâof the lengths he would go to stave death from touching your tender flesh.Â
No, only he was allowed to do that, and he was a reaper in his own right.
A small death that infected you at every breath puffing into your mouth, every whine and whimper he could draw like water to swallow down as ambrosia. Nectar of the Gods, and it was right there in his arms. Back. Alive.Â
To be alive in the summer field of this old military base was to accept that death, and into it, hope that the few moments you had together truly made a difference.Â
Simon would hold you thereâand when that was done, wrap you in his jacket and carry your battered body back inside; watching your swollen lips and the wide eyes as they gaze back at him.Â
Because he could hate you all he wanted for this, for the lies, for the way you made him careâŠbut the both of you would still be alive to do so.
He guessed that was all that mattered.
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Miguel Oâhara x reader (blurb)
(Let me know if you want me to continue this story)
The rain poured down relentlessly as you stumbled through the dark, unfamiliar streets of Nueva York. Your leg throbbed with pain, and each step felt like agony. You were a scientist, working on cutting-edge technology at Alchemax, but your latest experiment had gone awry, leaving you injured and on the run. Unbeknownst to you, your pursuer was none other than Miguel O'Hara, the head of security at Alchemax. He had been suspicious of your activities for weeks, and when the lab exploded, he was certain you were involved. Determined to bring you to justice, he chased after you through the stormy night. Finally, your body gave out, and you collapsed against the side of a building, clutching your injured leg. You knew you couldn't go any further. Just as Miguel caught up to you, he skidded to a stop, his eyes widening as he saw your desperate state. "I've got you now," he said triumphantly, his voice laced with an unexpected concern. "But... you're hurt." You glared up at him through rain-soaked hair, mustering all the defiance you could. "Just... finish it," you gasped. "Take me in or kill me. I don't care."Miguel's face softened, and he crouched down beside you. "I'm not going to kill you," he said, his voice gentle. "But I can't just let you go either. Come with me. We'll get you patched up." Despite your protests, Miguel managed to hoist you onto his shoulder and carry you through the relentless rain. Eventually, he led you to a small, dilapidated apartment, barely furnished and devoid of any personal touches. With some effort, Miguel managed to lay you down on the creaky old bed. He rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out a basic first aid kit. "Hold on," he said, his voice filled with a mix of apprehension and determination. "I'm going to clean and bandage that leg." As he gently tended to your injury, a surprising calm settled over the two of you. The initial hostility between you faded away, replaced by a shared vulnerability. Miguel's touch was unexpectedly gentle, and he looked at you with a newfound empathy. "I didn't... expect this," you admitted, wincing as he cleaned a deep cut. "I know," he replied quietly. "But maybe there's more to you than I thought. More to both of us." You locked eyes with him, your heart pounding. The tension between you was palpable, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. There was a connection growing, something that went beyond enemies or allies. It was the fragile beginnings of something more. After finishing bandaging your leg, Miguel hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "We... have to figure this out," he said, his voice raw with vulnerability. "Together." You nodded, your eyes searching his. "I don't know what comes next, but I want to find out." And in that small, run-down apartment, beneath the stormy night, you and Miguel O'Hara began a journey from enemies to something else entirely, your shared vulnerability and newfound connection set the stage for a love that would defy the odds.
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â EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oâhara x fem!reader
step one step two step three step four step five step six
3.6k words
â after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
contains: mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you donât know the meaning of (i donât think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if thereâs any grammar/spelling mistakes (Iâm tired af)
Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. He isnât one to mess with peopleâŠright?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldnât be surprised if he did." He mutters.
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguelâs reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? Noâyou think to yourself. He wouldnât re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? Heâs clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
Itâs silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. Itâs darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. âMiguel?â
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. âI see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.â He comments.
You narrow your eyes. âWhy am I not fired?â
âI thought youâd be happy to see that note.â He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
âNo. Iâm not happy to see any note.â You say, lowering your arm. âWhy couldnât you just tell me in person?â
âBecause I wanted to avoid this.â He gestures to you in general.
âYou canât expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.â You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You werenât blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
âYou donât need to be curious.â Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
âBut I am.â You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. âLook, itâs beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.â
âDonât do what made me re-hire you.â Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. âYouâre saying that like what I did was badâŠWhy would you hire me for something you donât want me to do again?â
âYou ask a lot of questions, you know that?â
âDonât worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.â You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you werenât able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
âCanât I do something without being questioned?â Miguel asks. âI mean, you got your job back, you should be happyâŠand any other sparkly emotion.â
âYou should use those âsparkly emotionsâ more often, OâHara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.â You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
âYou do realise going off track isnât gonna make me tell you anything.â Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it heâs grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chinâkeeping your head tilted upâwhile his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
âYou should make sure that that doesnât get infected.â He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been rightâhaving him this close was going to give you a heart attack. âThatâs rich coming from you.â Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
âYou keep seeming to forget that youâre only human.â He mutters. âWeak.â
âYou forgot annoying.â You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguelâs intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says âWeâll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.â
âI donât think thatâs necessary anymore.â You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
âReally?â He sounds disbelieving. âSo, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and thatâs it? youâre done?â He tilts his head his eyes darting. âI thought you were more determined than that.â
You narrow your eyes in turn. âAnd I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think Iâm fine.â
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. âI thought I took your phone.â
Your mouth opens and closes. âIâŠgot a new one.â
âOrâŠyou stole it back.â He counters, raising a brow.
âItâs easier this way. I donât have to bother you with lessons.â
âBut I liked getting something in return.â He answers smoothly.
âYou were asking for things anyone could do.â You say.
âBut Iâd have to pay for someone to give me a massage.â He mocks sadness. âWhen you were there being oh so nice and generous.â
âI wasnât being generous. It was apart of the deal.â
âAnd it still is.â
âNo. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.â You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasnât getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
âBut I re-hired you, which means the dealâs back on.â
âWhat if I say no to the job?â You suddenly ask.
âChaparrita, youâre not gonna say no.â
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguelâs fingerâthat rested by your jawâstarted to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him âNot everything about you is violent. Not everything has to beâ.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesnât have time or the energy for âfeelingsâ and such. He had to stay focused.
But overâespeciallyâthe past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of courseâonly in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldnât be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his âreasonsâ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
âAlright.â You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. âBut please donât make me run around endlessly.â
âHave I been?â He shakes his head for you. âNo. Iâve only given you easy tasks.â
You donât why he has but you are definitely grateful. âDonât use your phone again.â He suddenly says.
âMany people use phones for different thinââ
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. âFor Spanish lessons.â
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
âIâll uhâŠsee you in a few hours then.â You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. âIn the tech room?â
Miguel shakes his head. âItâs still being repaired. Just come back to my room.â
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. âSee you then.â Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours laterâthose hours having been filled with back and forth thoughtsâyou were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguelâs room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking âitâs fineâ âIâll be fineâ to âim starting to sweatâ âwhy the hell am I starting to sweat?!â
âY/n!â A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
âMiles.â You smile. âSo sorry for practically leaving you back there.â You did feel bad.
âPlease donât. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.â He made a face which made you chuckle. âThey had likeâŠ.real large claws.â
âYeahâŠwould much prefer never to see them again.â You half chuckle.
âHow are you?â Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. âGood. Better. YeahâŠa lot better.â You glance down at your ankle. âWish I wasnât so accident prone though.â
âNah.â Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. âYou jusâ have a running theme of beinâ in the wrong place at the wrong time.â
âThat makes me feel so much better.â You scoff.
âWhere are you headed anyway?â Hobie asks you.
âOh, just to Miguelâsââ you pause. You were gonna say âMiguelâs bedroomâ but then realised how strange that would sound. âTo speak to Miguel.â
âI thought you already did?â Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
âYesâŠbutâŠwe have more to discuss.â You nod.
âLike what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?â Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. âCoz that donât really sound like him.â Hobie continues.
âYouâre doing that face again.â You say, narrowing your eyes.
âAm I?â He again prays innocence.
âYeah, you are. And itâs beyond annoying.â
âJusâ like I thought he found you.â Hobie mutters almost smugly.
âWhat?â
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
âWhy are you guys acting so suspicious?â You ask.
âWe just find itâŠstrange is all.â Gwen says.
âFind what strange?â
âWellâŠMiguel was the one to bring you inâŠwhich isnât strange, but it was just the way he was acting.â Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
âIâm not following.â You say slowly.
âHe didnât really let any of the doctors touch you up.â Gwen continues.
âThen howâŠ.?â Youâre confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
âAy, what are we all talking about, you guys?â Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
âJusâ about Miguelâs strange actions in medical.â Hobie says.
âOh yeah!â Pav nods quickly. âHe was acting really different. Wouldnât let anyone near you, y/n.â He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. âIt was almost like he wasââ
But Gwen cuts him quickly. âHe was just acting different. Thatâs all.â Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
âOkayyy.â You drag out, eyeing them all again. âRight now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.â You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguelâs room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by âdidnât let the doctors touch you upâ or âdidnât let anyone near youâ. Theyâre rightâthat is different from Miguel. So far different that you just canât seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you canât see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguelâs door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
âI hope youâve come up with some helpful phrases.â You say turning to him. âBecause I gave up my phone for this.â
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. âUse my bed.â He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. âAnd yes, I am better than your phone.â He says, meeting your gaze.
âYou sure?â You question. âMy phone is pretty helpful.â
âAnd youâre saying Iâm not?â Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. âThat hurts.â His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
âQuiero ir a la feria.â It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
âQuiero ir a la feria.â
âIt means âI want to go to the fairâ.â Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguelâs head. He probably shouldnât execute it, but of course he still will.
âMe encantarĂa usar tu cama para otras cosas.â Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
âMe encantarĂa usar tu cama para otras cosas.â You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguelâs breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of âI am a farmer who plants treesâ. But he instead made you say âIâd love to use your bed for other thingsâ.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesnât particularly want to. âÂżNo crees que me verĂa bonita atrapada entre tus sĂĄbanas, Miguel?â
âArenât you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?â You ask.
âRepeat it.â Miguel doesnât budge.
You sigh. âÂżNo crees que me verĂa bonita atrapada entre tus sĂĄbanas, Miguel?â (Donât you think Iâd look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but thatâs about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. âTan bonita.â (So pretty.) He murmers.
âDo you want me to repeat that too?â You ask.
Miguel chuckles. âThatâs fine.â Your words staying trapped in Miguelâs brain, seeming to repeatâŠover and over.
Miguelâs gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didnât particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closerâŠand see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongueâŠ
âMiguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?â You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. âIâll let you try and figure it out.â
âThatâs not very good teaching.â You mutter.
He just shrugs. âThen I guess youâll never know.â
âAnd donât translate it on your phone.â Miguel says pointedly. âThat would make you a bad student.â
You clench your jaw but nod. âFineâŠâ your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. âI didnât realise it was this late. I should go.â You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. âThanks for somewhat of a good lesson.â
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
© 2023 messylustt.tumblr
ok, this post isnât letting me add the colours and now Iâm sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguelâs fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
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9. Decision
â MASTERLIST â REQUESTS â TWILIGHT â BOUNDARIES â
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: mentions of violence, fluff, angst, depression, smut (not heavily laden)
A/N: took me a while to get this finished. I wasn't sure which direction to go, towards Sarah or Paul? Then again its a Paul fic so...
Message if you want adding to the tag or you want a one shot written.
â Chapter 8 âȘïž Chapter 10â
-----
There is nothing to do in all the spare time you now have, jobless and miserable, but think of the friend you lost. Everywhere subtle reminders of her, from the photos of you together on your phone, to the mentions of her from your Mother and Frank. You slipped into an endless cycle of depression that scared them enough to not bother you with endless questions, but you overheard the augments late at night when they thought you were asleep. Truth is, you canât sleep these days. You miss Sarah and desperately want to fix things and in the process youâve cut yourself of from him. Even thinking of him, or naming him, makes the pain worse, yet itâs you doing it to yourself.Â
You groan and turn over in bed, hugging the duvet to your body. Itâs been three days since he dropped you home, the ride had been in silence as you refused to speak. You watched his white knuckle grip on the wheel and how tightly he clenched his jaw. Obviously he wanted to say something, angry at the situation, but thankfully he hadnât voiced it there and then. Before leaving, heâd made you promise to meet him in a few days after having time to yourself, time he knew you needed even if he didnât want the space.Â
You stare at the ticking clock on the bedside table, counting down the minutes. You should have met him ten minutes ago. Despite the longing to see him, feel him, breathe him, you canât bring yourself to get up. Instead you open your phone and stare at Sarahâs number, finger hovering over it. Even if she picks up, what do you say? Thereâs still no explanation, the only one you had she laughed at you for it.Â
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock becomes too loud, as it reminds you that youâre now twenty minutes late. Thoughts of him sitting alone in the current downpour makes you feel increasingly guilty.Â
He wouldnât still be there. You tell yourself. Heâd have gone by now. Anything to make yourself feel better.Â
Tick. Tick. Tick.Â
In frustration you swipe the clock off the side, it clattering to the floor with a metallic clunking. Something skitters across the floor, probably the battery. Itâs only now, in the quiet of your room, you start to tune in to sounds in other parts of the house. The sounds of an argument starting in the kitchen drifting up to you. Quietly you leave the bed and creep along the floorboards to your door. The voices have grown louder and drown out any possibility of them hearing you coming down stairs.Â
âSomethings wrong with my baby girl Frank, and you donât seem to careâ your mothers hysterical shriek makes you jump as you hover outside the kitchen, eavesdropping.Â
âI just think that perhaps weâve been too harsh on her recently. Sheâs a young adult now and sheâll experiment; thatâs how they learn, from mistakes!â Frank sounds calmer, you put that down to his experience as a police officer. âSheâll speak to us when sheâs ready-â
âMaybe we should send her to a psychologist-âÂ
âShe doesnât need a shrinkâ He laughs, rolling his eyes at the idea he finds preposterous.Â
âSheâs depressed, Frank!â Your Mother is at boiling point, her tone squeaky and you know that soon the tears will come.Â
âSheâs a young woman, sheâs probably got boy troubles, sheâs not depressed.â He tries to rationalise and for once youâre glad someoneâs on your side.Â
âIf thereâs something youâd like to know, just ask.â your voice interjects quietly from the doorway, âIâd prefer that to the talking behind my back â you accuse. They stand, looking shocked at your sudden appearance. Despite catching them talking about you, guilt swells inside for letting it get to this point. You should have talked to them and not caused further stress. âListen,â it comes out authoritative and stops either of them jumping in. âIâŠâ you stare at your feet as you prop your body against the door frame. âI donât wanna tell you what you want to hear for the sake of pleasing you, saying this, I donât need counselling-â
âOh thank god!â your mother interrupts, her hand coming to her chest in relief. You give her the side eye, annoyed at her rudeness.Â
âAs I was saying, I donât need counselling. I might seem a bit down but I have reasons, oneâs which Frankâs not far off.âÂ
âSo there is a boy?â your mother asks, a mixture of intrigue and confusement. Frank smiles to himself, knowing he was right. âDonât you think we should have known thereâs a boy in your life?â
âMum!â you whine, âNo, thereâs no boy.â You lie, not able to deal with her current questions. Tackle one issue at a time. âItâs just friendship problems.â Neither of them say anything but Frank gives you a wink, knowing youâre not telling the whole truth. âAnyway, Iâm heading out, trying to fix the problem.â Your motherâs eyes travel your body, judging the state your appearance is currently in. She gets an eye roll from you before you walk to the front door. While slipping a pair of boots on you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror.Â
Jesus, maybe she was right to judge.Â
You still wear his sweater, having not taken it off, but had replaced the borrowed boxers with black leggings. Your hair, still unwashed, was scraggly and held enough grease to deep fry something in. You grab fistfuls of it and pile it high on top of your head, securing it in pace with the band from your wrist before heading to the car. Once sat inside the car, you get your phone out, finally having plucked up the nerve to call. The dial tone rings endlessly before the answer phone kicks in. In frustration you hang up and redial, the need to reach Sarah gnawing at you.Â
âPlease pick up. Please pick upâ you say through gritted teeth, hoping that it would work some magic. Once again the answer phone kicks in. Her voice sounds clear and cheery. You wait for her to stop speaking and the familiar beep to ensue, indicating for you to leave a message. âHi Sarah,â you pause, realising how unprepared you are for this âI um⊠I couldnât reach you, well you know that, but um I just wanted to check in, see how you are, even apologise. Iâd rather apologise to your face and not over some dumb messageâŠâ you sigh loudly âPlease just call me back, this whole thing is just so stupid, I really-â
Beep.
The time runs out for your message, cutting your words short.Â
â-miss youâ you finish. Disappointed and annoyed you fling your phone into the seat next to you before banging your head against the steering wheel. In frustration your hands grip tightly onto the cool plastic as you release a suppressed groan. After regaining composure, you use your fingers to wipe away the wetness that stains your cheeks. Deciding you need to confront the issues in your life, you start the car and pull out of the driveway. Nervously your fingers tap against the steering wheel as thoughts race through your mind. Who to go to? Your brain, always the voice of reason, argues that Sarah should be the priority.Â
Mates before dates.
Despite this, every fibre of your being yearns to go somewhere else. A deep breath fills your nose with the woody scent that wafts off the sweater and sends your heart hammering. You let out a shuddery breath as you glance at the clock. Nearly fifty minutes had passed since you should have met him, why on earth would he still be there? Some small flicker of hope rages through you as you take a left turn at some crossroads, a turn that takes you further from her. The heavy rain turns to a gentle shower, as you head down the track that is becoming increasingly familiar. Under the tree canopy the rain seemed almost nonexistent but as you emerged into the clearing you noticed the occasional droplet hit the windscreen. You leave the car parked on the edge of the mud track and make your way over to the cabin, hoping that you were right in assuming heâd be here.Â
Gingerly you head up the porch stairs, trying not to make much sound in fear of an audience. There's voices drifting from the cracked open window, hushed in tone, not the usual energetic craziness youâve come to associate with the gabble of boys. Â
âShe might come around with some spaceâ Emilyâs soothing voice sounds, attempting to calm the male that answers her.Â
âShe stood me up, I donât think she needs time. She needs answers-â
âNo.â Samâs stern tone silences the other two. âI forbid it. Sheâs not one of us.â
âSheâll understand-â
âI said no Paul.â
âThe otherâs will be here soon, finish this before they arrive.â Emily advises. The oven door opens and then closes.
Feeling rude for eavesdropping, you try to backtrack and head to the car. Obviously now wasnât the right time to interrupt. You make it down the stairs without so much as a creak and head back across the dirt clearing.
The low hanging tree branches to the left of the clearing start rustling as something comes running through the undergrowth. For a minute, panic floods your body. Half expecting the monster from your dreams to charge at you. Youâre relieved when you hear the laughing joking voices of the boys. Emily had said theyâd be returning soon.Â
In a hurry, you fish the car keys from your pocket but drop them in the mud. Before you can pick them up, feet thud into the clearing. In a flurry of snapping branches and bare skin something slams into you, knocking you clean off your feet. You land in the mud, something heavy on top of you.Â
Opening your eyes you see the smiling face of Jared, a flirtatious look twinkling in his eyes. He pushes up on his elbows as a flush creeps onto your cheeks. Youâd never been this close to a man.Â
âSorry about this, didnât see you there!â He winks before another naked form runs past you both.Â
âLooks like I beat yo ass!â Embry calls.Â
Jared pushes off from the floor and offers a hand to you. The flush on your face reddens as you look away from Jaredâs fully naked body.
Jared laughs. âDonât tell me you havenât seen Paul-â
âWhat the hell.â Paulâs voice erupts across from the cabinâs porch, stopping Jaredâs comment in its tracks.Â
Your head whips around to where Paul is running down the stairs. He ignores the two naked men and heads straight to your side, looking you up and down once, then twice, noticing the mud on your clothing. His eyes then travel to the mud on Jaredâs forearms and knees. His eyes turn animalistic, rage barely concealed.Â
âWhat did you do?â He spits at his friend. The words are thick with accusation.Â
âCalm down, it was an accident.â Jaredâs eyes turn as lethally animalistic as he squares up to Paul.Â
âYouâve been provoking me for days.â
âYouâre just too easy to wind up, man. Try not being so uptight.â He shoves Paul away from him.Â
âPaul?â Your voice calls to him soft and calming, perhaps the only thing that can pull him away from this. âCan we talk, please?â
He turns away from Jared, leaving the conflict before itâs too late. You take a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves but before you can say something Jared lets out a chuckle.Â
âIt was about time she saw a real man.â His comment makes Paulâs jaw clench.Â
âIgnore him.â You shoot a glare at Jared, all embarrassment gone as you speak to Paul. âHe doesnât know what heâs on about.âÂ
Taking a step towards Paul, you close the distance and place a hand on his chin, directing his gaze towards you. His jaw relaxes before he recoils from your touch. Your hand drops to your side as disappointment rushes through your being. Up until now youâd been the one rejecting and only now realise how being rejected hurts. Paul has to fight the desire to comfort you as he walks away from you and into the trees that youâd previously followed him into.Â
Sam, whoâs been watching from the porch of the cabin, orderâs Jared and embry inside. Once the two of them vanish inside the cabin, he gives you a nod of thanks.Â
Without overthinking, you enter the forest and retrace the footsteps you took once before and pray heâs there waiting for you. The walk to the clearing doesn't take as long as before, recognising stages of the journey which makes it memorable. Your foot clumsily catches on a tree root bulging from the earth. Smiling down at it, you canât help but find it funny that itâs the same one that tripped you last time.Â
You enter the clearing and see Paul hunched over in the middle. All fours on the moss covered ground. His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply as if meditating. You donât say anything but let your actions speak. Silently you make your way over to him, stopping only to briefly consider what you should do.Â
Gingerly you place a hand on his back and make contact with his hot skin. The palm of your hand is cool compared to his scorching flesh, he flinches at the temperature change. The muscle beneath your touch contracts and relaxes as his head raises off the floor. Sliding your hand towards his shoulder blades, he brings himself into a kneeling position, his back flush against your legs as he sits on his haunches. Your arms wrap instinctively around his neck, dangling across his chest, as his head comes back to rest on your abdomen. Heâs hurting and every fibre of your being screams to comfort him.Â
Without even thinking, you place a kiss on the crown of his head. Before withdrawing, his hands grab yours to keep you from leaving. You breathe in his scent. It's deep and woody and makes your heart flutter.Â
Iâm sorry. Iâm here now.Â
Without having spoken the words aloud, his body language changes as he reacts to your thoughts. The tension leaves his muscles as he relaxes further into you, his eyes shutting in content.Â
Cupping his chin, you tilt his face back gently. For a second you stare at his beautiful angular face before leaning down to kiss his lips. For the briefest of moments, heâs surprised, but it vanishes quickly as you become one.Â
A smile breaks across your features, halting the kiss. Thereâs a bob beneath your hand as he swallows. You draw back and watch as his eyes open, dark and filled with lust. The predatory look should scare you but doesnât. Suddenly your mouth feels dry as nerves coarse through you.Â
âHi,â you whisper.
He blinks up at you. Once, twice, three times before making a move to stand. He towers above you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Occasionally his body shakes followed by deep breaths. Trying to comfort him, you rub your hand against his back.
âWhatâs going on?â you work up the nerve to ask.
He sighs against you before pulling away. His eyes show deep sadness, flecks of anger swim through the irises. You take a step towards him, but he just moves further away.Â
âThey shouldnât have- you shouldnât haveâ
âIâm not one of you.â Samâs words from the cabin tumble from you.Â
Paul looks shocked for a fraction of a second before regaining control of his emotions.Â
âYou heard that.â
âI may not be one of your goofy group of friends, but Iâm here arenât I?â Your brows pinch together. âIâm sorry I stood you up earlier, but you have to understand how confused I am at the situation, at my feelings. Iâve never felt like this and it scares the crap out of me⊠But, Iâm here now and thatâs what matters.âÂ
âYou donât think Iâm confused?â His words catch you off guard, not expecting him to argue. âOne moment you canât keep your hands off me and then you disappear for days. What am I supposed to think?â
âYou said you would be anything I want you to beâŠâ you shrug, lost for words.
âI donât know how to be around you.â he avoids eye contact as his hands run through his thick hair, âYou kiss me like you want me, like you care-â
âI do care.â
âYou act one way and then completely change the next time I see you. Itâs screwing with my brain!â He yells out of frustration.
âPaulâŠâ Tears well in your eyes. You swallow to keep them at bay.
âJared jokes about whatever this is and it drives me insane.â
âI didnât want to see⊠that,â you clarify.
Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you think about it, not that you really saw anything, having diverted your eyes. You notice Paul taking in your flushed appearance and shrink away from you again.Â
âAre you jealous?âÂ
âI was worried he might have hurt you.â He shoots you a warning glare, to not delve further into this topic.Â
âJared is quite funny, if Iâm being honest.â You twirl a piece of hair between your fingers. âAfter today⊠Well maybe heâs got more than just humour-âÂ
Paul walks towards the trees, no words of goodbye.Â
âDonât walk away. Please.â Your voice completely changes, the joking tone erased by desperation. Inside your chest, the beat of your heart thunders, scared that heâll go for good. âI need you.â
He stops in his tracks, back tense.
âI need you.â Itâs an echo of a whisper as you repeat it.Â
He turns and looks you in the eye.Â
âI canât stay away from you, I tried and it made me want you more. I canât sleep without thinking of you.â The truth starts spilling from you in waves. âI canât breathe, It feels like death. I⊠I. Need. You.â
He closes the distance between you in a few strides. His proximity gives you goosebumps as he leans his forehead against yours. All you can think about is how close his lips are to yours and yet still not close enough. And then theyâre on yours, warm and soft. He starts with slow gentle pecks, before they become lengthier. Your lungs burn so he moves down your neck. You moan what sounds like his name as your arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders. The hair at his nape is long enough to grab in your hand as he gently applies suction to your skin, bringing forth another moan, barely audible to the human ear. Tendrils of pleasure run down your spine as your nipples harden. You flush when you remember you didnât put a bra on; the way your body is pressed to his, heâll feel them through the sweater you borrowed.Â
His mouth finds its way back to yours as you drink him in, savouring every touch and sound. He pulls away for a second, panting as he draws in air, before admiring his work on your neck.Â
You stare up at him with big doe eyes, lips parted and swollen, waiting for more. Removing your hand from his neck, you bring them down to his chest where they linger for a few seconds before going to the hem of his tank top. He stops what heâs doing, eyes watching yours as they stare up at him. His breath catches as you graze a finger delicately over the skin of his abdomen. You pull on the material, as you lean up to kiss him, bunching it in your fists. Lightly, your teeth brush over his lower lip before breaking apart.Â
With his chest heaving, Paul allows you to remove his top. He stays utterly still, letting you take the lead. He watches as your eyes follow your fingers, watching them trace patterns across his flesh. You place a warm kiss on his shoulder as your arms slide around his neck once more.Â
âI need you.â The whisper tickles his ear.
You pull away a little so you can look at his face. Neither one of you speaks and yet never has your communication been better. Itâs over both of your features, anyone could read it. He dips a little as his hands rest on the back of your thighs, his eye contact not once breaking from you. In one swift motion he picks you up, bringing you eye level with him. You make a yelp of surprise and wrap your legs around his wait for stability. Before you can adjust, heâs moving again.Â
The moss feels soft as he lays you down, his lips trailing kisses down your throat. He works lower and lower until he finds where the sweater ends. He attacks the skin beneath, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, and works his way up, stopping just beneath your breasts. The cool air hits your skin and sends shivers over you, adding to the pleasure.Â
You make a sound of disappointment as he leaves your breasts and comes back up to kiss you. He plants one last peck on your pink lips before pushing up on his forearms.Â
âWe need to stop.â
You pull him down by his neck and kiss him again.Â
âWe really need to stop.â He says between your assault of kisses.Â
Catching him off guard you push him over and straddle his waist. Your mouth trails across his chest before he sits up, forcing your mouth upwards to his once more. You canât ignore his hands that ride up your back, feeling the soft skin beneath the sweater. He certainly knows that youâre not wearing a bra now. If only heâd slide his hands round and touch you. You ache for him.Â
A whimper escapes your lips as you think about what you need, earning a growl from deep within Paul, that responds to you.Â
âWe have to stop.â heâs breathless so he loses all sense of command.Â
âBut-â You start to whine. The temptress within wanting full control.Â
âThe forest isnât appropriate, who knows who can hear.â
Youâre far enough from the cabin that they surely canât hear you. Yet some part of you wonders if they could.Â
âSo we talk then.â You suggest, still trying to catch your breath and calm down.Â
âSure.â
You make no effort to move off his lap, liking his embrace. You both take a few minutes to regain some normal sense of thought.Â
âYou said before about soulmates.â He nods, urging you on âWell, maybe I believe you.â
He bursts into laughter, his whole body shaking underneath yours. You admire the way his eyes crinkle with happiness and the smile lines that appear in this moment of joy.Â
âThere are things I donât understand though.â
Paul leans back on his arms, taking in the view before him. His eyes rove up and down and a sense of accomplishment fills him at the sight of your flushed, dishevelled appearance.
âYouâre distracted, I can see. Maybe now isnât the appropriate time to talk about this.â You suggest, slighting annoyed he canât compose himself. He grabs your hands, stopping you from getting up.Â
âIâm listening.âÂ
âIs this a cult?â You blurt out.Â
Again he starts laughing. Big belly aching laughs that thunder across the clearing. You hit him playfully on the arm, hoping he can cut the crap.
âIâm serious!â
âOh you are, are you?â he chuckles. âNo, my friends and I arenât in a cult.â The laughter remains in his eyes and sparkles.Â
âThatâs it?â
âThere are some things that I canât tell you.â he watches your face screw up in confusion. âDonât look at me like that,â he sits back up and brushes his thumb across your pout. âDo you trust me?â He kisses you.
It sounds ridiculous but you do. You trust him with your life. Deep in your heart you know heâll keep you safe and love you, even if it is in this weird way.Â
âJust know that itâs nothing badâ
âHmmm, at least tell me whatâs up with the nakedness.â He pulls away from kissing you, âDonât think about lying. You ran off in the storm while your clothes stayed on the porch⊠Youâre always walking around half dressed and somehow donât freeze. Whatâs up with that?â
âThereâs no way Iâm gonna come off as anything but crazy.âÂ
âIâm fully prepared.â You smile in reassurance.
âWeâre at one with nature. Thereâs nothing more freeing or grounding than being a naturist.âÂ
âWeirdos,â you joke. A blush creeps up your neck as you imagine Paul as Jared had been today.
âDonât be naughty.â Paul chides.Â
âI donât know what youâre on about.â You stick your tongue out.
He makes a humming sound, not believing a word you say before planting kisses to your neck again.Â
âIâm sure you werenât thinking inappropriate things in the slightest.â He teases. âMy turn to ask a question.â
âGo onâ
âTalked to Sarah yet?â
In one simple question, your mood completely shifts. The warm fuzzy haze you had been in swept away by the blistering cold glooming melancholia of the Sarah situation. You roll your eyes before sighing.
âSheâs ignoring me.â You pull your lips into a tight line. âI probably need to just turn up at her house.â
âSomething tells me Sarahâs not the kind that enjoys being bombarded.â
Something clicks with what heâs said. The amount of times Sarahâs warned you.Â
âDo you two know each other?â His eyes shift colour, the playfulness dashed by something cold.Â
âI knew her Sister.â
âShe never said, she only warned me-â
âTo stay away from me, right?â You nod a reply. âFigures.â He sighs loudly âI had a lot of anger issues growing up and got in trouble once⊠or twice.â He must have seen the look on your face because he added âI never hurt her though, if thatâs what that look suggests.âÂ
âNo, no, I um⊠How well did you know her? The sister I meanâŠâ You stare down at your hands that lay on your lap.
âNow whoâs jealous.â He strokes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.Â
âSo thereâs a reason to be jealous?âÂ
âItâs in the past, well in the past. And it meant more to her than me.â He stares at you for minutes as silence settles, unable to take it anymore he breaks it.Â
âYou ever hurt anyone?â You hated asking, but felt the need to.
There's a dead silence that emanates from him.Â
âYes.âÂ
âWould you have hurt Jared today?â
He looks up at you, eyes full of sorrow.Â
âWeâre a physical bunch. Heâd have put up a good fight.â
âYouâre bigger than him.â You point out, surprised at the honestly coming from him.
âWeâre brothers. Iâd only have whooped his ass a little, teach him to hit on my girl.â
âToo much testosterone in the group,â You joke.Â
He doesnât laugh, doesnât even try to acknowledge the humour you used to try to lighten the subject. He only sighs deeply, his whole body deflating as his eyes drain of light.
âWhatâs wrong?â Your hands rest on his shoulders before they cup his face, giving it a playful squeeze. âTalk to me.âÂ
Before he even answers you know his sadness; feel it echoed in your own heart. Youâd never felt abandonment before but recognised the fear as quickly as it arrived. Your hands slide down his arms, stroking soothing circles before wrapping his big hands in your delicate ones.Â
Gently you place a kiss on both his hands and then rest your forehead against his. Looking deep into his eyes you feel a bridge, tiny and invisible, that connects the two of you. Electricity surges back and forth along the sinew of this soul bridge and for a moment you breathe as one.
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seth clearwater x reader
I do not own any of the twilight characters just using my imagination and creativity to give my take on them.
(also this song screams Seth so I thought it was appropriate)
warnings: Iâm new to this so bear with me it might be terrible, I canât think of any warnings
Seth and Y/N's love story was an unconventional one. They hadn't known each other before Seth imprinted on Y/N, an event that forever bound their hearts together. As they navigated their unique connection, their bond grew stronger with each passing day. From the moment Seth laid eyes on Y/N, he knew she was the one destined for him. The imprinting process had been overwhelming for both of them initially, but as time passed, they found solace and comfort in each other's presence. Their love blossomed amidst the chaos of their supernatural world. Their days were filled with laughter and adventures. Whether it was exploring the woods hand in hand or simply enjoying each other's company on the beach in La Push Seth and Y/N found joy in the simplest moments. They often spent lazy afternoons lying on a blanket beneath the shade of a tree, sharing secrets and dreams. Y/N admired Seth's warm personality and infectious enthusiasm for life. He had a way of making her feel safe and loved. Whenever she was feeling down or uncertain, Seth was there to lift her spirits. He'd surprise her with small gestures of affection, like leaving notes with uplifting messages around their home or whisking her away on impromptu picnics. One particular evening, Seth took Y/N to a secluded meadow illuminated by a canopy of twinkling stars. As they lay on a soft blanket, Seth pointed out constellations, tracing the shapes in the sky with his finger. Y/N gazed at him, her heart swelling with adoration. "How did I get so lucky?" she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. Seth smiled, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "I ask myself the same question every day," he replied, intertwining his fingers with hers. "You're everything I've ever dreamed of and more, Y/N." Their relationship was built on trust and understanding. Seth knew that Y/N had a life beyond their connection, and he encouraged her to pursue her passions and ambitions. He was her biggest supporter, always cheering her on and reminding her of her own strength and potential. Y/N, in turn, admired Seth's unwavering loyalty and selflessness. He would go to great lengths to protect her, his love acting as an impenetrable shield against any harm. Their bond transcended physical attraction, evolving into a deep emotional connection that brought them solace in the face of adversity. But it wasn't always grand gestures that defined their love. Sometimes, it was the little things that spoke volumes. Like the way Seth would wrap his arms around Y/N from behind while she cooked, resting his chin on her shoulder and leaving soft kisses on her cheek. Or the way Y/N would surprise Seth with his favorite treat after a long day, knowing that it would instantly brighten his mood. Seth and Y/N's love was a beautiful dance, a symphony of shared experiences and unwavering support. They knew they had found a rare and precious love, one that would withstand the test of time. As the days turned into months and the months into years, Seth and Y/N continued to build a life filled with love, laughter, and unwavering devotion. Together, they faced the challenges of their supernatural world, always finding strength in each other's arms. Their love story was one for the ages, a testament to the power of true love and the beauty of finding your soulmate. Seth and Y/N knew that their love was extraordinary, a bond that would endure forever, imprinted on their hearts for eternity.
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TOP GUN FIC RECS 5! â @dracosluvbotâs fic recs
top gun fics that iâve been reading and obsessing with over recently
this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.
F: fluff A: angst S: smut
đ„» - series /multi part
masterlist
JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN
F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse
you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.
F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken
all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.
F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx
you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.
F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good
you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone
F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17
jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.
F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops
jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse
A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx
jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago
F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf
you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.
F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser
jake will always be there to catch you
F + A: mamas (donât let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways
you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.
F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades đ„»
if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.
F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut
you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you
F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans
though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.
A: what are we? by @andorskenobi
four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.
F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle
jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.
S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe
jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.
F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer
you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.
F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter
you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.
F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1
your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.
F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme
your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.
F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms
a day on the beach with jake seresin.
F: brave by @arson-tm
you are the only person jake shows his true self to.
F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul
jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.
F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes
jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.
BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW
F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl
if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.
F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark
you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.
F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister
it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.
F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart
bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.
F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll
you can see glimpses of carole in bradley
F: mary's song by @risriswrites
bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.
F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster
jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer
A: till death? by @cherrycola27
you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.
F: my reward by @susanripper
rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?
F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes
if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster
F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor
it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is
A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree
you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.
S: short stack by @spacecaravan
something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.
S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn
being a dad was a good look on bradley.
F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl
baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.
F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank
rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run
F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken
during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.
ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD
F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife
baby on board has his own baby on board
F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989
having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.
F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites
unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.
JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO
F: in which itâs far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee
F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen
javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?
F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky
javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.
F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters
you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.
NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW
F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be
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THE WHOLE WORLD STOPPED
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"I don't have a type-"
oh apocalyptic father figures...
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sluttiest thing man can do is wear his race suit on his waist.
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#Thatâs his thingâą (insp)
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he looks so cute like a little bear đ©đ«¶đ»đ«¶đ»đ«¶đ»
đ€
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cutie
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pocket size
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