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anyarose011 · 4 months

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One More Reason to Control Myself {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Angus Tully knows she's hiding something. Why else would she lie about where she was the morning of Christmas Eve?

Part 5 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, and mention of exploitation of a minor.

We get an Angus POV chapter, motherfuckaas!! I had fun writing from his perspective while also giving him a little more backstory as well. Also, considering I want to try and eliminate the Y/N effect, anytime there's a she or her (italicized) it's you, dear reader. Shoutout to me forgetting there was a character named Danny in the movie, so I have to cover my ass for naming the creep "Daniel". Also, part 2 of an Angus/Reader coded song (what do you mean it breaks my heart? No it doesn't!)

Word Count: 7.1k

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“So, why’d you miss supper last night, and why is little miss Jane Bennet missing breakfast now too?”

That was what Mary asked Angus and Paul Hunham at Christmas Eve breakfast. Mr. Hunham glanced around, trying not to show his nerves, but failed. “Oh, we went into town on some uh, school-related business. As for my daughter…I do not know; she wasn’t there when I woke up, have you seen her, Angus?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

Mary hummed. The door opened, and in came Danny, the janitor who, even in the below freezing temperatures of winter, somehow almost had a smile on his face. Carrying in a mop and bucket, he greeted. “Good morning, everybody.”

“Good morning,” Mary pointed to the kitchen. “you can go on in and fix yourself a plate.”

He nodded. “I just saw something funny. I walked into the gym, and someone had vomited in there.”

Angus stilled as he drank his orange juice. Mary looked at him and Mr. Hunham, and the two of them looked at each other.

“You don’t say,” it was Paul who spoke first. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Angus answered loosely.

“No, uh, I’ll look into that right away. Thank you.”

Mary raised one of her brows. “I see how it is.”

Danny shook his head, walked over to Angus, and placed the bucket and mop by him before walking away. “You’re out your mind.”

Angus sighed, fiddling with the eggs on his plate. It had been a week of a frozen hell for him (perhaps not so bad…he made a friend. A friend who, despite there being billions of nerves in the body, she still managed to get on every single one of them; yet, he knows he does the same to her). Still, as Christmas Eve was supposed to be a time of excitement for the holidays, Angus Tully felt nothing of the sort.

He had no idea if it was because he was getting older, or because his father wouldn’t be there after Christmas mass, carrying him out of the car when he pretended to fall asleep.

Maybe it’s because he didn’t live in the same house anymore where the Christmases he used to love took place…

Fortunately, his moments of wintertime dread were gone once the doubles doors from the outside were opened. He watched as Mr. Hunham’s daughter entered, pulling off her gloves and unwrapping the scarf that was brought up over her hair and around her neck.

“And where were you?” Mary was the first to interrogate, sitting beside Angus, still smoking her cigarette.

She smiled, approaching the table. “Out.”

“Out where?” Her father then questioned.

Chuckling, the girl pulled out a chair by her father and sat down, taking an orange of the fruit basket, peeling it. “Just on a walk. I gotta clear my head from you people sometimes.”

Mr. Hunham shook his head, not necessarily shocked by her response, but still bewildered. “Clear your-? How long were you out?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I woke up around seven-thirty, read for a bit, then went out. So…maybe eight? Not for long, that’s for sure.”

Angus knew she was lying. He didn’t mean to peek into her room when he woke up (genuinely he didn’t, no matter what anyone says). Even though Mr. Hunham decided not to wake everyone up at the crack of dawn since Angus was the only holdover, the boy’s internal clock wouldn’t let him sleep in. So, the first thing he needed to do was go to the bathroom, and as he passed by the doorway to her room, she wasn’t there.

He didn’t think anything of it until he was eating breakfast at eight-thirty, and he still didn’t see her.

“I see.” Her father furrowed his brow, but then shrugged, going back to lunch. “Well, please at least eat something other than fruit.”

She took the whole bowl. “But it’s the candy of the good ol’ days.”

“And what are the good ol’ days?” Mary huffed,

“Ancient Rome and Greece,” she popped a grape into her mouth. “also when women had less rights than they do now.”

Angus snorted, trying to then cover up his amusement with a cough. He didn’t find women not having rights funny (please believe him), it was just unexpected of her to say. Still, he felt all eyes on him, and refused to meet any of them as he picked up a piece of bacon.

He likes to think Mr. Hunham’s daughter was smiling at him when she stood up. “Fine, I’ll get real food.”

She went to the kitchen to grab a plate, and Mary hummed. “Never thought I’d see that girl ever be happy this early in the morning.”

Angus finally looked up. “She usually isn’t?”

Mary smirked, placing her cigarette between her lips. “I don’t think you’d last a day with her if you were both ten.”

There was nothing else to do after Mr. Hunham lectured Angus for an hour about the aqueducts in Rome. What was usually two and a half hours was only one, since the teacher claimed: “I’m feeling a little generous because of the season.”

Not because he wanted to drink alone in Dr. Woodrup’s office reading mystery novels (Don’t be ridiculous).

So, that brought Angus Tully back up to the infirmary, to do what, who fucking knows? He glanced into the other room and saw Mr. Hunham’s daughter laying on the middle bed, reading. When she looked up, sensing his presence, he instinctively hid behind the corner.

“You don’t have to be creepy anymore.” She spoke with the sarcasm he knew so well. “We’re friends, remember?”

Angus, playing it cool, entered the room, leaning against the wall. “Who says I was ever creepy to begin with?”

“I did.” She placed a bookmark in her book before setting it down and sitting up. “And you know, ordinary people just enter a room; they usually don’t bother checking.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “maybe you’ve convinced me there are ghosts here and I just want to be safe?”

Not because he was hoping she was in her room and had a reason to go talk to her (Don’t be ridiculous).

She rolled her eyes yet smiled anyway. “Took you long enough to figure out I’m always right.”

“I said ‘maybe’. What’re you reading?”

“Just now or in general?”

“Yes.”

She held up The Two Towers. “You ever read Tolkien?”

Angus sat on the spare bed across from her. “I read The Hobbit my freshman year; one of the only books I liked reading in school.”

His eyes fell to the stack of books on her nightstand. Little Women, Sense and Sensibility, Giovanni’s Room, andThe Count of Monte Cristo.

“You’ve read all of these?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah.” She then pointed to The Count of Monte Cristo on the bottom. “Well, I actually tried to read this one when I was fourteen but got bored with it; I’m trying again.”

“Right after you reread everything else?”

“Shut up.”

She tried to sound serious, but he watched as she turned her head to try and hide her smile. He wasn’t ashamed to show her his. Angus’ eyes went back to the stack of books, and he took out Little Women, flipping to the first page.

“‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.’ Grumbled Jo.” He read aloud, then looked up from the book. “Now I know why Mr. Hunham calls you that.”

“Are you saying I’m selfish, Fitzwilliam?”

He shook his head, going back to reading. “No, you just complain a lot.”

She scoffed. “Just wait until you meet Amy. I love her, but I’m glad I don’t have sisters.”

Angus’ didn’t respond, his eyes trailing over the words on the pages. He didn’t truly know why he kept reading; whether it was out of boredom, or perhaps he was already hooked on the story, he would never tell.

“Wait,” he heard her. “are you still reading?”

“Damnit, you made me miss my spot.” He glared at her.

She already knew he didn’t mean it (that much). Still, the girl giggled, laying back down on the bed and opening The Two Towers, going back to her own reading. They were like that for ten minutes perhaps? It was a strange time that went by fast and slow. No, Angus Tully wasn’t even doing this to think of what to say to her, he was genuinely engrossed by Louisa May Alcott.

Then, it was when he was more than half-way done with the first chapter, that he asked. “Where were you this morning?”

She looked over at him. “I’m guessing you hate the book?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He sat up. “And no, it’s actually tolerable.”

“Tolerable for it being written by a woman?” She sat up as well. “And for your information, I just went to the woods. What, were you worried about me or something?”

“Maybe…I don’t know, maybe.” Were the only thoughts behind his eyes, but his mouth moved differently.

“No. Wait, you’re walking around the woods, and you’re calling me creepy?”

“What’s so creepy about walking around the woods by myself?” She questioned. “If there was someone following me, then they would be creepy, dumbass.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t know anyone who spends their time frolicking through the woods for fun.”

“You didn’t really know anyone, but neither did I, so we’re even.” She stood up, going to the window to look out of it. “I also prefer frolicking through flower fields, but this isn’t the best season for that.”

Angus hummed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

He debated on asking her why she was out there for an hour and a half; if she was in the woods, or if she was even outside. Just as he was battling with himself and wondering how to ask her without her biting his head off, he saw her tremble.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked.

“Come over here.” She commanded without looking at him.

He stood up immediately, and as he was halfway to the window, she giggled; a sound he had heard before but…not like this, somehow. Angus stood beside her at the window and watched as Mr. Hunham walked on the sidewalk by the quad, stretching.

“Look at that sad, little man.” She tisked.

Angus asked without looking away. “You talk about your dad like that?”

“You would too if he was yours.”

“Point made.”

They watched as the teacher picked up a stray football on the ground, and with perhaps the worst technique ever, threw it. Both she and Angus, as if her father would see them in the window, backed away from it, laughing at the absurdity.

“I almost feel bad now.” She said through her enjoyment. “That’s a lie, I don’t.”

Her honesty only caused Angus to laugh even more, and he can’t remember when the last time it was he had ever laughed this much. Especially over something so stupid.

“Well, it’s obvious he didn’t play football in high school.” He said.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “he’d go on and on about being president of Latin and Chess club.”

That’s where Angus’ amusement ceased. Even if it was at his own expense, he didn’t mind it at all since he could see just how wide her smile could get.

“Angus Tully, don’t tell me-.”

“-What’s wrong with Chess club?”

“I knew it!” She pointed at him. “You nerd!”

“You’re the one that knows all of Roman history and mythology like the back of your hand, and you’re calling me a nerd?!” He teased.

The girl snorted, crossing her arms. “Not all of it.”

“Yes, you do.”

“So why have I lost to you twice now?”

“I just got lucky.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I’m serious!” He tried to brighten the strange air that settled in the room. “Your dad didn’t drill it into you for nothing.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” She hummed, sitting back on the bed. “So, you’re good at chess?”

He shrugged, taking a risk and sitting next to her (with about two feet of space of course). “I guess so. My…my dad taught me how to play, and I never beat him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, nearly losing himself in the memory. “I was like nine when this snowstorm hit, I was out of school for almost a week, and my dad and I just played the whole time.”

“So, you played without bathroom breaks, and you still didn’t win?”

“Okay, smartass.”

She smiled. “My dad tried teaching me chess and he beat me every time too.”

“You still play?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I always cussed at my him whenever I lost, so probably not a good idea to keep going.”

Angus snickered. “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You were cussing at seven?”

“He was an asshole!”

“Yeah, I’ve met him.”

It was almost horrifying how her face dropped at his comment. One where it was like the words themselves shocked her. Then, before Angus could fully register what had just happened, she was laughing.

“Sorry,” she shook her head. “I’m just imaging what you looked like as a kid.”

He tried to laugh it off with her, but that odd tension crept its way back in. “I was weird.”

“So was I. You should’ve seen me when I was twelve, my father drilling Roman knowledge into my head, proclaiming how, if I wanted to be better than all of the boys in my class, I had to work for it.” She grinned. “It’s like he tried to make me a small version of him, which was impossible from the start.”

Angus nodded, not exactly knowing how to respond. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” She shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t mean to, but I feel like he sometimes forgets I might want to wear ribbons in my hair, put on makeup, girly things like that that I almost called stupid, but they’re not. But could you imagine it? My father wearing makeup and…okay, he doesn’t have much hair for ribbons, but you get it.”

“I do.” He smiled.

She nodded, and they fell into another beat of silence. It was almost a competition as to who would speak first, and in the end, she surprisingly lost. She stood up from the bed.

“I uh…I promised Mary I’d help her in the kitchen.” She walked backwards. “You’re more than welcome to keep reading my ‘tolerable’ books written by women.”

Angus hummed, trying to shake off her abrupt exit. “Yeah, I got nothing else better to do. Maybe I’ll meet you downstairs and keep harassing you?”

“Yeah sure.”

With that, she turned on her heel and scurried out of the infirmary. Angus always found her to be strange; from the moment she stepped into Mr. Hunham’s classroom in September, to her just then. Still, it was a strangeness he couldn’t help but be intrigued by. Not the same as how a scientist would study a foreign species but…he had grown quite fond of her.

He already had a liking for her that first day he met her (despite her harsh and course attitude towards the others in class). Not a liking enough to have it be a crush per say (he was still annoyed with her). Then, the whole catastrophe of him being stuck with her over Christmas break only added fuel to a fire.

A fire that has both warmed and burned him all at once.

What kind of shit was he going on about? He read half of a chapter from Little Women, and now look at him!

Not knowing what else to do with himself, Angus slid The Count of Monte Cristo out from the bottom of the stack of books. It had been one of his favorites as a kid; ironic in both a sense that he read it as a child, but also his mother of all people recommended it to him. Before he could even flip it to the first page, he saw a small gap in the middle as if there was a bookmark. He opened it and found a letter; an already opened letter.

Angus’ blood ran cold at the sight of it, and as he took it onto his hands, he turned it over. It was addressed to her, and the stamp was a toy train. He had only gotten a glance at the first letter when Teddy stole it, and he recognized the stamp.

Sighing, it almost felt like the envelope was burning in his hand as he hunched over himself. He could’ve read it…it was right there, and it was already opened so it’s not like she would’ve ever known.

But he would’ve. And he knew there was no going back if he read whatever Daniel wrote to her, and even if it wasn’t bad (how could it not be), then he knew she’d be able to sniff him out like a rat that he’d read it.

Wait…Daniel…Danny…The janitor.

“Shit!” Angus hissed, almost falling off the bed, then sprinting out of the infirmary and running blindly though the school he has gone to for months.

He ran outside without a jacket on, looking around for Mr. Hunham. When he already saw his fingers beginning to turn white in a matter of a minute, he ran back into the school and navigated the halls as if he were a bat out of hell.

It took him quite literally running into Mr. Hunham for him to finally stop.

“God almighty, Mr. Tully!” He gasped. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Angus, trying to catch his breath, said. “Mr. Hunham, I have to tell you something.”

Immediately upon noticing his distress, the teacher’s harsh demeanor and voice dropped. “Well…alright, what is it?”

“Can-.” He looked around, feeling suddenly exposed in the hallway. “Can we do this somewhere else?”

“Sure, sure.” Mr. Hunham nodded, looking around as well until his eyes landed on the first door he saw. “Let’s uh, is there fine?”

“Yeah.”

They both entered into a classroom that neither had been in before. It was smaller in size, more than likely meant for honor’s classes, but it looked like it hadn’t been dusted since the beginning of the year when parent’s would visit. When the door was shut, Mr. Hunham turned back to him.

“Now, what’s going on?”

Angus said her name. “Someone’s been sending her letters.”

“What kind of letters?” He asked, his face a mix of confusion and even a hint of denial.

“I…” Angus looked down at the one he had in hand and held it out to the teacher. Mr. Hunham took it, slipping his reading glasses out of his pocket. Angus continued. “Someone named Daniel sent her one days ago, Kountze stole it and read it aloud to everyone back in the woods. I think it’s Danny, the janitor.”

The moment he said ‘Daniel’, he’d already seen Mr. Hunham’s entire demeanor change. He saw him visibly tense, as he read the letter what must have been a million times. As time stood still in the dingy classroom, the teacher swallowed thickly.

“You said she got another letter a few days ago? Where is it?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head.

“Mr. Kountze read it aloud, what exactly did it say?”

“I…” Angus paused, trying to remember just what was written so he wouldn’t miss a thing, “He asked her to send a picture of herself to him, and wished her a Merry Christmas. He sent her thirty-five dollars too; did he send more?”

Mr. Hunham shook his head, obviously bewildered at the amount of money. “No, he didn’t. Mr. Tully, did you even read this?”

“No.” His response was instant.

“Why not?”

Angus’ eyes trailed to the side, somehow finding the blank chalkboard much more appealing than Mr. Hunham. To be honest, anything at the time was more-.

“Angus,” His voice was stern, but not mean. It was enough to catch the boy’s attention, but not enough to scare him. “I need to know what you know, so we can help her.”

He took a deep breath. “Teddy made a joke that she…she…has pictures of herself in a skin mag.” It was absolute hell to watch Mr. Hunham sigh, so Angus looked away as he continued. “She didn’t say that she did, but she didn’t deny it, and I didn’t want to know whatever creepy shit Danny sent-.”

“-First off,” Mr. Hunham interrupted, rubbing his face. “this isn’t Danny the janitor.”

“How do you know?”

“Daniel,” He tried to say the name like he was a historical figure and not someone who made his skin crawl away from his body. “was...a family friend of some sort. That is all you have to know about him.”

Angus nodded, but couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, and how his stomach began to tie itself into knots as he asked. “Why did he stop being a family friend?”

“I said that’s all you have to know about him.” He said with more of a bite, then calmed himself. “I’ll speak to her about this the next time I see her, and rest assured, I won’t mention you.”

“She’ll know it’s me.” He shook his head. “I found it in one of her books when she left the infirmary after we talked.”

Mr. Hunham clutched the letter in one hand while removing his glasses with the other. “Regardless of details I cannot share with you, this little incident should not effect on how you view my daughter-.”

“-It doesn’t! I just-!” He lashed out unexpectedly at even the assumption of him finding any shred of blaming her for what was happening to her. “I just…I want her to be okay. That’s it.”

The teacher all but froze at his response, it is apparent that he was not expecting him to say that. Still, after regaining himself, he nodded. “You’re a good man for doing this, you know that, right?”

Angus scoffed, shrugging. “I don’t think she’ll talk to me ever again.”

“She may not,” he nodded. “but she also might. I won’t force her to do either. Again, thank you for letting me know.”

“Sure.”

The two of them walked out of the classroom in silence, and with Mr. Hunham’s “See you at dinner?” and his student’s nod, Angus Tully was left alone again in the grand halls of the school.

A fate that has somehow always caught up with him ever since he got there.

Angus read the same Popular Mechanics magazine three times over since he found it the night he was the only one left behind at Barton, and he’d gotten sick of it after the second time.

So, with nothing else better to do, and with it starting to get dark, he went down into the kitchen, where apparently everyone but Danny was, helping Mary cook. Including her. She was washing vegetables in the sink while Mary was preparing a roast, both of them laughing at someone one of them said. Mr. Hunham was just at the table, peeling potatoes like his life depended on it.

“Mary.” Angus greeted, smiling at her. Mr. Hunham’s daughter immediately turned back to the sink upon seeing him.

Mary looked up. “Speaking of…”

Deciding to ignore the strange tension in the room (He has a knack for doing that, doesn’t he?), Angus’ eyes traveled around until they landed on a dish beside him. “Oh, brownies? God yes, I want all of these.”

“Ah, ah!” Mary scolded when he took one. “Just take one. The rest is for the Christmas party tonight.”

“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He said her name. “Did you know there’s a Christmas party?”

She didn’t turn around, and only responded with. “Uh-.”

“-Yes, at Miss Crane’s house.” Mary interrupted her. “She and I are only going for a little bit, show our faces, and say we were there. Well, she might stick around since her little friend is there. You know, Miss Crane said she invited you too.”

Angus furrowed his brows, looking over at Mr. Hunham. “I want to go to the party.”

He stammered. “She-she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”

Mary shrugged. “If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take him.”

“Mary can take me.” Angus reiterated.

“No, that’s not how it works.” Mr. Hunham raised his voice a hint. “You’re under my supervision.”

Angus frowned. “So, your own kid isn’t under your supervision, but I am?”

“Don’t even think about pulling me into this.” The ‘kid’ in question shook her head, not even turning around.

Still, he scoffed, bringing his eyes back to Mr. Hunham. “Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around here and read books all day,” he turned on his heel, beginning to walk out. “but I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jesus!”

“Hey!” Mary yelled at him once he threw the brownie across the room. “Watch your mouth, young man! Not on Christmas Eve.”

Angus ignored her, storming off back to the infirmary. He didn’t even make it to his room and a bed to dramatically throw himself on and scream into a pillow. He rested his back against the wall before sliding down it. Now sitting, his shoulders still tensed at what just happened. He’d been stuck in the school for a full week, only being able to go out when he dislocated his entire shoulder.

Who the fuck did that piece of shit think he was for holding him captive?!

Closing his eyes, he thought back to what Dr. Gertler told him. Sure, the guy was a quack, but once or twice he actually had a few things that helped him. Angus breathed in, counting to four, held it for three, then released it for another four.

He repeated that until he felt the tension (mostly) fall away from him, and there was even a hint of calmness in his head.

Which was then lost when he opened his eyes, and she was peeking from around the corner.

“Jesus!” He gasped, and she immediately hid. Once his heart stopped beating so damn fast, he said. “Okay, now who’s being creepy?”

“…Me.” She said after a moment’s silence, still hiding.

Sighing, rested his head against the wall. “I’m sorry I yelled earlier.”

She finally showed herself, standing in front of him now. “I don’t think I’m the one you should apologize to but thank you. My dad said you can go to the party with Mary and I.”

That got Angus to sit up taller. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but he’s going with us, so it won’t be that fun.” She joked.

He snickered along with her, before asking. “What about dinner?”

“We’ll probably just have it at Miss Crane’s. We’ll just have a nice lunch or something tomorrow instead of tonight.” She explained before walking into her room.

This was what caught Angus Tully off guard. She wasn’t exactly acting like her father had just confronted her about the letters, she was being too nice to him…so did she know it was him? She had to; or was he just overthinking it and getting in his own head (Something he did frequently)?

“When are we leaving?” He asked.

“In an hour!” She yelled, her voice somewhat muffled. “So, get on it, Fitzwilliam.”

“Anything you say, Amy!”

He ran off before she could storm after him (like he assumed she would), and went back into his room, which had darkened quite a bit. He went to his bag and took out the razor and shaving cream that he had only opened a few times since the beginning of the semester. He shook the can and applied the cream to his face before bringing the blades of the razor up to shave.

There was honestly no need to. It’s not like he even had “sawdust under his nose” as one would put it when talking about the mustache men would try to grow after watching Top Gun, which didn’t exist at this time, but that’s beside the point.

Even so, as he wat attempting to shave what was not there, he heard a knock, and her voice asked. “Are you decent?”

“Yep.” He answered, not even bothering to glance at the hall of lockets she had knocked from.

She came into his eyesight and stood so close to him in the mirror that he could feel the heat of her skin on his. “Move over.”

“Why?” He scoffed playfully, yet still did so.

It was only then he noticed the small makeup bag she had in her hand, and she placed it on the sink before opening it and taking out a sponge and small jar of liquid that matched her skin tone (it was foundation; he’d heard the word before but didn’t know it was that until perhaps a year later).

“The lighting’s better in here.” She answered, getting close to the mirror and dabbing the liquid on the sponge and upon her face.

Angus took a second (and only a second, if he took any longer she’d yell at him) to look at her entire self, and saw that she was wearing a dress. A dress that he would never have imagined on her. Her hair was almost the same as always...but there was something more to it he couldn't quite verbalize.

She was still herself, and it was silly to Angus Tully that it took a different dress and perhaps some makeup (something he’d hardly see her wear) to realize just how…just how…

“You look…” His mouth trailed off faster than his brain before he could stop himself.

After finishing her foundation, she took out a powder and brush. As she applied the powder, she glanced up at him through the mirror, a smirk on her face that was holding back a laugh. “Yeah?”

He couldn't call her ‘pretty’ (both because she’d never talk to him again, and that would be belittling her), and he couldn't call her ‘beautiful’ (she just wouldn’t talk to him again period; and he’d probably be scaring her off). So, apparently, the best thing he could think of in a limited amount of time was-.

“-Like a girl.”

Oh, how attractive it was to open one of the windows and jump out of it. If it wasn’t the fall that would kill him, it would certainly be freezing to death in a foot of snow.

Instead, to his surprise, while she momentarily scowled at him (as she should have), she giggled. Shaking her head, she said. “I would say you look like a man, but there’s nothing about you to prove that.”

As his heart began to beat again from her apparent lack of offense, he took the towel off the rack and wiped the residue cream off his face. “Oh yeah? What am I then?”

“A boy.” She set down the brush and took out a small tube of liquid, shaking it. “A tall, little boy.”

He snorted, walking away from the mirror when her gaze became just a little too much. “You said you were friends with Miss Crane’s niece?”

“Yes.” Her tone changed somewhat (or was he just overthinking it).

“Do you think I could-?”

“-Should I put on eyeshadow?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“You know,” she turned over her shoulder. “the color that goes on the eyelids?”

“I know what eyeshadow is. I’m not that big into makeup, so I don’t know.”

“Really?” She teased. “You aren’t into makeup?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned back to the mirror, opening the tube. “Nothing.”

Angus’ eyes scrunched as he smiled at her playfulness. “Well-.”

“-Shut up.” She interrupted him.

He scowled. “Huh?”

She had the pen (it was eyeliner; he actually knew what that was) hovering over her right eye, and she was glancing at him again through the mirror. “I’m doing the most important part, and it’s the one I’m horrible at, so I need complete silence.”

Angus Tully merely nodded, looking away. He didn’t know how long she took, but she knew she was finished when he heard her gasp.

“I did it!” He looked back and saw that she turned to him with the biggest smile on her face, and blackened wings kissing the corner of her eyes. “I did it!”

He could only nod. “Yeah, it looks good.”

She grinned from ear to ear before turning back to the mirror, setting down her eyeliner and getting out an eyelash curler. “Could I ask you a question, even though you’ll feel stupid afterwards?”

“Do your worst.”

“Why ‘Amy’?”

Angus felt safe to smile at that. “Does that bother you?”

“Why, on God’s green earth, would you say I was like Amy?!”

“Well,” he shrugged. “it pisses you off, that’s the first reason. Second is…she grew on me.”

She scowled, turning to look at him. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“I mean…you made her out to be so annoying, and someone who complains a lot which, yes she does. But she’s funny, and she sticks to herself like Jo does, but…I don’t know, I just like her.”

Her face fell for the second time that day; but not like it did that afternoon when he made a joke about her father. No, this time, he knew it was because she truly didn’t think he would say anything like that.

And, for the first time since he’d known her, she almost looked shy.

Something he thought would be the thing that terrified him the most that entire Christmas break.

So, when she didn’t respond, and wanting to disrupt the awkward silence, he then asked. “Wait, why was your dad so against going, but now he’s fine with it?”

She looked back at the mirror, looking at him through it. “Besides the fact it wouldn’t be fair that you’d be stuck here while I’d go, he has a crush on Miss Crane.”

Angus snorted. “Figures.”

She shrugged. “I kind of always knew. I mean, she’s worked here for five years, but I think he only started liking her last year. I’m also not sure what he’s more afraid of; how I’d react to him liking someone after Mom died, or him just liking her period.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“My mother’s been in the ground for six years.” She decided to take the eyelash curler back in her hand, then brought it up to one of her eyes. “We still visit her of course. She wasn’t selfish either, and it’s been so long, so I don’t think she’d mind. Besides, I’m going to technically graduate next semester, and I don’t want to be stuck here, but I also don’t want him to be alone. Mary’s really his only friend so…yeah, I think I’d be okay if he was with Miss Crane.”

Angus nodded. At first, it felt almost invasive and even wrong for her to tell him all of that so effortlessly. But…he leaned into it the more she went on. She’d been vulnerable with him before (whether she thought it or not, she had been), but this time…it wasn’t a huge confession, it was just a simple conversation.

“I don’t…” He found himself saying.

He didn’t what? What was he going to say? Something about his father? His mother? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her something.

She took the curler away from herself and turned to look at him. Her eyes…her damn-no, they weren’t damned; they were kind, gentle…but still he felt damned just as she looked at him in a way he hadn’t ever seen her look at anyone before. She was waiting for him to say something.

Say something.

She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t done anything but stare at him, but he was suddenly twelve again. Angus Tully, with his hair that was just beginning to have out of place curls, walking into his parent’s room at two in the morning. He woke his mother up, who gasped when he touched her. After she calmed down, she was appalled to see him crying.

It wasn’t a bad dream, it wasn’t because something had happened to him at school; he didn’t know what was making him weep, but he was doing it anyway.

He could barely say anything, he babbled like a baby learning to talk, and all he could get out was “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

His mother tried her best (he liked to himself that), but she could only say “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

Didn’t she hear him? He didn’t know.

Even now, at seventeen, he didn’t know what to say to her.

“I don’t know how you can use that.” He glanced at the eyelash curler.

She furrowed her brow upon the change in tone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it looks like a torture device.”

Scoffing, she looked back to the mirror and curled the lashes of her other eyes. “You’ve just never tried it before.”

“And I never will.”

She looked back at him once she was finished. “Are you scared?”

“No, I just don’t see the reason to.”

She shrugged. “I think you’re scared.”

“Am not.”

“Okay, then let me put mascara on you.”

He scoffed. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” She shook her head. “If you’re not scared then you’ll let me stick something in your eye. You don’t have to wear it to the party, but I think it’d be fun.”

Angus was at a loss. She was a good actress, so how was he supposed to know she wasn’t messing with him? Well…he didn’t; he just had to trust her. To be fair, he had been weird around her this whole time, so…

“I’m not doing the torture device, just the makeup.”

Her face lit up, and she took the mascara out of her bag, setting everything else inside of it. “Get over here.”

He followed, leaning against the wall by the mirror. Suddenly, as he stood in front of her, he was nervous. It wasn’t the first time he was (whether that was because of her wit, her confidence, or even her meanness), it was because it was just her.

“How uh,” he stammered. “how are we doing this.”

“Lean down first of all, fuck why are you so tall?”

“Not one of my favorite qualities.” He joked, pressing his hand against the sink for support as he lowered himself slightly.

“Meh,” she shrugged, unscrewing the cap of her mascara. “girls usually like tall guys.”

His heart flipped. “Yeah?”

She froze momentarily before continuing. “I guess. Elise told me.”

“Right.”

“Okay, close your eyes. You’re going to want to open them when you feel something touch your eye, but I promise you, you don’t want to do that.”

“Sounds good.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling of discomfort. He could feel the heat of herself hover around him, but the pain from the mascara never came.

He heard her sigh. “This isn’t going to work.”

Angus opened his eyes when he felt her draw away, and he saw her sit on one of the beds. She titled her head. “Come here.”

He didn’t know if his heart was still or was going to beat itself out of his chest. Obviously, he sat by her before but…he had to be closer to her. Angus did his best not to make a big deal of it, but he felt like he was almost watching himself outside of his body as he sat beside her and closed his eyes.

“Do you want to know what my mom called me when I was younger?”

She was trying to distract him and he knew it. “Sure.”

“Ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

He tensed but soon relax when she rested her hand on his cheek; it felt like she was burning him, but the way that he felt whenever he had a fever. Somehow…it was comforting. Breathing shallowly, he answered. “Greek? Kind of.”

“Well,” he cowered away a little when he felt something brush his eyelashes but kept calm as she continued. “where my father loved Roman history and mythology, my mother was more into the Greeks. They’d go back and forth debating on which was more influential, and that was more so how they became friends. She…before I was born, she talked about naming me Eurydice because it was her favorite story. My dad was obviously against it, so that was a no. So, that’s when she’d just call me Eurydice at home a lot, just to piss him off which was funny.”

Angus hummed, paying attention to her words, but having to bite his tongue to keep himself grounded from losing himself within her touch. “What’s she like in the story?”

“Not much to her.” She moved onto his other eye. “Well, what it gives us anyway. I always had my mom tell me their story, and Eurydice kept changing. It was always who I was like growing up.”

“Really?”

“Really. I was shy around the other kids when she first told me-.”

“-You, shy?”

“Shut up, I’ll mess up your eye if you make me laugh. But yeah, so Eurydice was quiet and shyer. Then, when I’m like nine, I’m a bit more outspoken, angrier even, so she became that.”

He didn’t move his head, scared that he’d mess her up. It was then, after she stopped speaking, he could feel her breath on his face. Her hand was still warm against his cheek, and he found himself leaning into it more and more. He had not felt this sense of peace since…he couldn’t recall.

“Done.”

With one word from her, she took her hand away and he opened his eyes. She was still so close to him, and while he saw her smiling at what he assumed had been her work, it was him staring at her that made it drop. Still, she didn’t look frightened nor upset, she was just…looking at him.

The moment his eyes dropped to her lips for only a second, it was all over.

He’d thought about it, of course. He wanted to. But…like with everything about her, he froze.

She didn’t.

“You…” She stood up from the bed, straightening the skirt of her dress. “you should probably wash that off after taking a look.”

Angus didn’t have time to respond before she grabbed her makeup bag and ran off. He just sat there, trying to process if he was waiting to wake up from a dream, or if it had been in fact real.

When nothing happened, he sighed heavily, getting up and walking towards the mirror. His eyes looked different, and he felt weird. He could not tell if it was from the makeup, her, or both. Still, what he did know, was that he made a fool of himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #paul hunham #the holdovers #mary lamb #Youtube

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toppersjeep · 10 months

Text

Time Moves- Daniel Ricciardo X Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You had a crush on Daniel for years. But you knew your father Christian would never let you be with him. Especially after he left Red Bull. But now he’s back and all those old feelings come back. Daniel is also jealous of your new relationship with a certain driver.

(Warnings: Age gap, swearing)

Your POV

“Y/N did you hear Danny might be coming back” Max said. “Good for him I guess” I said reading over some paper work. “I know you care about him” Max said. “No not like that anymore” I said. “He’s your best friend though” Max said.

“Was Max” I said. “Well when you aren’t grumpy he’s downstairs” Max said walking away. I then followed Max downstairs. To my surprise Daniel was talking to my father about something.

“Ah there she is” Dad said. “What’s up” I said. “Ricciardo is back he’s gonna be our third driver” Dad said. “That’s awesome” I said. “I thought you’d be happier than that” Max said. “Yeah just tired you know” I said. “It’s good to see you it’s been too long” Daniel said hugging me.

“Yeah it has” I said. There it was those feelings again. The butterflies as soon as he hugged me. “I missed you” he whispered in my ear. I stepped out of the hug. “So is he staying permanently” I said. “Yeah I think so at least” Daniel said smiling.

There’s that beautiful smile. God I love that smile.

“He is” Dad said. “Well that’s good news” I said. “Yeah it is” Max said. After catching up I went outside and sat at one of the tables and typed up some reports for Red Bull. Daniel then walked out and sat across from me.

“How long do you plan on being weird around me” Daniel said. “I’m not the one who ended things” I said. “You know why I did” Daniel said. “I don’t wanna hear the silly excuses of an age gap” I said. “It’s not just that.. you know your father” Daniel said.

“Whatever I don’t care do you need something” I said. “I just wanted to talk to you” Daniel said. “I don’t want to talk to you” I said. “I’m sorry I ended things” Daniel said. “I’m only 25 Daniel it’s not that big of a difference” I said.

“But it was to me and how people would’ve looked at it” he said. “You think I give a shit about what people think” I said. “You may not but I do” Daniel said. “Whatever Daniel” I said. Someone then came up behind me and kissed my cheek.

“Hi chéri what are you working on” Charles said. “Boring reports hi” I said kissing him. “You should come hang out with me” Charles said. “How was the meeting” I said he sat beside me. “I think it went well” he said putting a hand on my leg.

“Good” I said. “Hey Daniel heard your back at Red Bull” Charles said. “Yeah I am” Daniel said. “He’s gonna be the reserve driver” I said. “That’s nice welcome back” Charles said smiling. “So how longs this been going on” Daniel said.

“What” I said. “Oh me and Y/N” Charles said. “Yeah so how long have you two been sleeping together” Daniel said. “That’s not right” I said. “Daniel what’s the problem I know you two had a past but” Charles said. “What I do doesn’t concern you” I said.

“So Christian approves of Charles huh” Daniel said. “Daniel things change” I said. “He said before he didn’t want you dating on the grid” Daniel said. “He changed his mind after Charles” I said. “I asked him permission to ask her out” Charles said.

“… of course” Daniel said. “You broke up with me so” I said. “Because I you know what you two enjoy each other” Daniel said leaving. “Well that was lovely” Charles said.

“That’s how he is” I said. “His loss” Charles said kissing my forehead. “Yeah” I said. “What’s wrong” Charles said. “I don’t know.. I just feel awful” I said. “Because he’s upset he broke up with you” Charles said. “Yeah” I said.

“Why don’t you come see me for a bit” Charles said shutting my computer. “Char baby I have work to do” I said. “It’s quiet in my drivers room” he said taking my laptop. “That’s not funny” I said. “Well then if you want your computer come with me” Charles said I followed him.

It was time for the race and I sat by the computers. Daniel was near the wall. But he then came over to sit beside me.

“Nice” he said. “What’s the problem now” I whispered. “You run back over here after hooking up with Charles” Daniel said. “What I do with my boyfriend isn’t your concern” I said. “It is when you run back over here with messy hair.. and marks on your lower neck” Daniel said.

“You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” I said. “Still.. at least I was more sneaky about that” Daniel said. “Please.. don’t start that jealousy shit” I said. “Me jealous I’m not” he said. “Sure you know what I’m just gonna go” I said getting up.

“Where are you going” Dad asked. “Ummm Charles wanted me to watch his race so I’m gonna do that” I said. “Alright.. have fun” Dad said. I started walking over to the Ferrari paddock.

But Daniel followed me.

“This is stalking you know” I said. “So you’re just gonna run away from me huh” Daniel said. I stopped in my tracks. “Me.. run away don’t give me that lecture you ran away” I said. “Because… I got to close” Daniel said.

“Too close” I asked. “Yes… I wasn’t supposed to do that” Daniel said. “But you did you acted like you loved me then threw me away” I said. “And now you can’t stand that I’m in love with Charles can you” I said. He looked at me.

“You’re right I can’t” Daniel said. “I moved on and you are still stuck in the past” I said. “The past that was two years ago” Daniel said. “And you messed it all up by letting me go did you ever even love me” I said. “How can you ask me that” Daniel said.

“Answer the question Daniel” I said. “Yes I loved you god I still love you” Daniel said. “If you loved me then you wouldn’t have hurt me” I said. “And what Charles is gonna give you everything you want” Daniel said.

“Yeah… he is because unlike you he put me before his career” I said. Daniel didn’t look at me. “You can’t say that I did that” he said. “You did.. Daniel .. put everything over me” I said. “I did love you” he said trying to grab my hand.

I didn’t let him.

“Now you know how I feel to be in love with someone who acted like you didn’t exist” I said. “I never meant to hurt you that much” he said. “But you did.. just let me go Daniel” I said. “But I can’t do that” Daniel said.

“Then I’ll make the decision for you” I said walking away. “Y/N please” Daniel said. “Daniel I’m getting married.. let this go” I said. “Married … what do you mean” Daniel said.

“Did you bother to look at my finger or even my instagram oh wait you blocked me remember” I said. “Your… marrying him… you were supposed to” Daniel began to say. “Supposed to what marry you.. guess you can’t have everything you want” I said walking into the Ferrari paddock.

I walked into the garage and Charles ran over and hugged me.

“My girl.. I’m so happy you’re here” Charles said. “Gotta support my favorite driver” I said. “And fiancé” Charles said I smiled. “Of course” I said. “God I can’t wait to marry you” Charles said.

____

Daniel’s POV

I went back to Red Bull and sat down by Max. Sure marrying Charles??? Out of all people

“What’s going on with you mate” Max said. “Y/N is engaged to Charles” I said. It still sounded so weird. “Oh … ha yeah they got engaged a couple months ago” Max said.

“I had no idea” I said. “I mean.. it makes since you know for well” Max said. “For what” I said. “There kid… don’t you know that” Checo said. “You’re telling me they have a child” Daniel said. “Yeah.. Jules you haven’t met him” Max said.

“How old is Jules” I asked. “Like two and a half years old” Checo said. “Yeah look here’s a picture of him with P they are best friends” Max said showing me a picture. “When did this happen” I said. “Two years ago they started dating after.. she broke up with her ex boyfriend then yk Jules came along” Max said.

“He’s Charles son” I asked. “Yeah.. why.. do you ask” Max said.

Because he might be mine….

___

Part 2 coming soon !

#fanfic #love #f1 imagine #x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles lecrelc #daniel riccardo x reader #charles leclerc x reader #red bull f1 #f1 x reader #mercedes amg f1 #max verstappen #f1 fic #f1blr #f1 2023

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nalyra-dreaming · 2 months

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Can I ask if this hasn’t already been asked how Lestat and Daniel get on in the books? Daniel is Louis friend and Lestat knows that but do their personalities challenge each other and do they bicker or are they friends? How do you think it’ll go in the show? I don’t believe Lestat will hate Daniel in the show or anything extreme he might be frustrated at times but I don’t think Daniel would care much about that to be frank haha and would even feel bad at times because possibly Lestat gets triggered remembering his past or sad about Claudia in a different way than Louis gets sad about Claudia (more emotional, possibly lashes out or ruins their interview schedule because of how sad he is deep down, shows up late, etc.). Overall I think they’ll manage okay and by the end have some shared understanding of each other and possibly respect from both sides. I’m expecting comedic moments of Lestat refusing to give a straight answer and Daniel challenging him and Lestat challenging Daniel for doing that but in a funny way. And when Daniel asks about Louis and their time together from lestat’s POV im curious how Lestat remembers that time and how Louis will be seen from his eyes and how Daniel interprets that vs how he interpreted Lestat from Louis and Armand’s POV

Hey!

So as a note: Louis and Daniel aren't friends in the books. That's a show thing. A good thing! But it's not from the books, not really.

Lestat and Daniel... Lestat and Daniel like each other:

"Khayman sat in the downstairs study talking with Daniel now, Daniel who liked to let the hunger build, Daniel who wanted to know all about what it had been like in ancient Miletus, and Athens, and Troy. Oh, don't forget Troy. I myself was vaguely intrigued by the idea of Troy. I liked Daniel. Daniel who might go with me later if I asked him; if I could bring myself to leave this island, which I have done only once since I arrived. Daniel who still laughed at the path the moon made over the water, or the warm spray in his face. For Daniel, all of it-her death even-had been spectacle. But he cannot be blamed for that."

I think Lestat and Daniel might, especially if Daniel is already a vampire for the documentary, a vampire turned (supposedly) "out of spite" by Armand. Daniel, who freed Louis.

I think Lestat and Daniel will get along like a house on fire, actually. Oh, with sparring matches, and challenges, and biting comebacks. But Lestat likes that - and Daniel does, too. I think the more emotional breakdowns (that we saw (maybe exaggerated) hints of) might come through the story itself... and if it is true what Sam hinted at? Then maybe Claudia, there, haunting Lestat.

Because she does, in the books. She haunts Rue Royale, she haunts Lestat, she haunts Louis. She haunts the narrative.

I cannot wait to see what Daniel will drag out of him, actually. I hope it will be a bit sharper and edgier than Daniel in season 2... I had actually expected more of him there, tbh.

But I think Daniel and Lestat will be their own dynamic. Because Daniel likes Lestat, canonically. And I think in the show, he does, too, because he saw beyond the tale that was spun. He called the bullshit. And he knows he has to get to the source.

We know Daniel was already at the concert, so here's a snippet of Daniel at the concert from the books :)

And Lestat was Christ on the cathedral cross. How describe his overwhelming and irrational authority? His face would have been cruel if it hadn't been for the childlike rapture and exuberance. Pumping his fist into the air, he bawled, pleaded, roared at the powers that be as he sang of his downfall-Lelio, the boulevard actor turned into a creature of night against his will! His soaring tenor seemed to leave his body utterly as he recounted his defeats, his resurrections, the thirst inside him which no measure of blood could ever quench. "Am I not the devil in you all!" he cried, not to the moonflower monsters in the crowd but to the mortals who adored him. And even Daniel was screaming, bellowing, leaping off his feet as he cried in agreement, though the words meant nothing finally; it was merely the raw force of Lestat's defiance. Lestat cursed heaven on behalf of all who had ever been outcasts, all who had ever known violation, and then turned, in guilt and malice, on their own kind. It seemed to Daniel at the highest moments as though it were an omen that he should find immortality on the eve of this great Mass. The Vampire Lestal was God; or the nearest thing he had ever known to it. The giant on the video screen gave his benediction to all that Daniel had ever desired.

... I think theirs will be a very fun, and very interesting dynamic^^ Because Daniel has something Lestat wants, to make him open up (namely knowledge about Louis)... and then... 😈

#Anonymous #ask nalyra #iwtv s3 #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire s3 #lestat de lioncourt #the brat prince #iwtv lestat #daniel molloy #iwtv daniel #queen of the damned #book quotes

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sohyxn · 1 year

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OPPOSITE⠀───⠀DANIELLE MARSH.

TAGS : fluff, dani have a huge crush on yn, yn is a dumbass, jealous? dani, the whole fic is more like in dani's pov

PAIRINGS : dani x fem reader, jiyeon ( triples ) x fem reader

NOTES : just finished rewriting it, hope this is better than the og 🙏🏻

danielle marsh, a popular student at ador high school, is known for her outgoing personality and charismatic presence. she was always surrounded by her close-knit group of friends, minji, hanni, and haerin.

despite her extroverted nature, magically there is someone who has caught dani's attention — y/n l/n, someone who's personality is completely opposite of dani's, an introverted student that intrigued her.

every day, dani admired y/n from afar, finding herself captivated by y/n's calm demeanor and attractiveness.

however, despite having the ability of socializing. she could never muster the courage to approach her crush. the fear of rejection and the thought of potentially jeopardizing their friendship kept dani from expressing her feelings.

one afternoon, as dani sat with her friends in the school cafeteria, laughter and chatter filled the air. minji, ever observant, noticed dani stealing glances at y/n from across the room.

"bro" minji called out, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "you've been eyeing y/n for weeks now. seriously when are you going to make a move?"

blushing slightly, dani averted her gaze. "i don't know, minji. i'm scared of messing things up. what if y/n doesn't feel the same way?"

hanni chimed in, playfully nudging dani's arm. "oh come on, dude! you're confident and outgoing. i'm sure y/n would feel the same way as you do. just be yourself and go for it!"

dani sighed, feeling torn between her desire to confess and her fear of rejection. little did she know, fate had a funny way of intervening.

a few days later, as dani walked down the hallway, she noticed y/n engrossed in a conversation with another girl — jiyeon, the ballet dancer for their school? she think . panic surged through dani's veins as she began to suspect jiyeon's intentions. what if she was confessing her feelings to y/n?

unable to bear the thought of losing y/n to a potential rival, dani's determination skyrocketed. she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. with her heart pounding, she approached y/n and jiyeon, interrupting their conversation.

"he-hey, y/n! can i talk to you for a moment?" dani blurted out, her voice slightly shaky.

y/n looked surprised but nodded, "uh... yeah sure" ,excusing herself from jiyeon. dani's friends who was watching ( stalking ) on them exchanged knowing glances, sensing the drama.

as they found a quiet corner, dani took a deep breath and confessed, "um y/n, there's something i've been meaning to tell you. i know this might be so sudden but i've had feelings for you for a long time now, and i couldn't keep it to myself any longer. i know we're friends, but i want to be more than that. will you go out with me?"

y/n's eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. she let out a nervous giggle before responding, "dani, you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say that. i like you too, more than just a friend and i'd love to go out with you."

relief washed over dani as a smile spread across her face. they were both pleasantly surprised to learn that their feelings were mutual all along.

meanwhile, dani's friends, minji, hanni, and haerin, who had been eavesdropping nearby, couldn't contain their excitement. they burst into applause and cheered for the newfound couple.

minji teased, "finally, the great love story of dani and y/n begins! we've been waiting for this moment since forever!"

hanni added, "yeah, dani, we knew you had it in you. now, you better treat y/n right, or we'll come after you!"

haerin chimed in with a mischievous grin, "and don't worry, dani. we'll be your love advisors, guiding you every step of the way."

" what the fuck- have you guys been stalking me?"

"no? why would we?"

"where did you come from then, our class is literally over the next block."

"just shut up and enjoy the moment idiot"

"somehow.."

#gg imagines #newjeans x reader #danielle marsh #danielle marsh x reader #danielle marsh x fem reader #danielle new jeans #newjeans danielle #gxg imagine #gxg

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avonne-writes · 11 days

Text

Reading Weekend Reviews

As I mentioned before, I spent most of my free time this weekend reading instead of writing because I wasn’t feeling well. The stories I had a chance to read were all amazing and they made me feel better!

The stories discussed in this post: meet me at the chapel, Learning Curve (ch 1), if it feels like love (then it must be love) (ch 1-2), i feel so high school. (ch 1-2)

1. meet me at the chapel by @swifty-fox

90s outlaws au, part of a series (I only read the first part so far, but can’t wait to continue!)

This was such a wild and raw ride. It leaves you with the illusion of the wind whipping through your hair, a dusty road ahead of you, and the sunset burning your cheeks as you chase a sense of freedom you long for. It’s sad, funny and sexy at the same time.

John is written as roguishly handsome, a characterization I really enjoy. He has an edge, but he’s warm, caring and flirtatious, charming even as an outlaw.

Gale is wounded and beautiful. He has a really sad background, and you keep rooting for him to find love and peace, and it's easy to sympathize with the fact that he feels safer being an outlaw and living homeless than locked into a life of hopelessness and abuse.

As usual, @swifty-fox does an amazing job immersing us in the atmosphere of the story. Every little detail contributes to the lasting impression that this fic leaves. I know I'll be thinking about it for a while.

2. Learning Curve (WIP, 3k) by @hogans-heroes

This is a new canon au WIP that describes life in the stalag from Alex Jefferson's POV.

First of all, I think the POV is brilliant! I love how fleshed out Alex’s character is in the first chapter already, and how his narration allows us to get to know Macon and Daniels more too. In addition, looking at John and Gale from an outsider POV is always fun and interesting. Oh, and the hints of DeMarco x Macon got me excited!

The first chapter sets up an intriguing conflict between John and Gale, and poor Gale is not doing too well (a feast for those who like Gale whump). I think all the characterizations are spot on, with Gale being quietly self-sacrificing and Bucky falling apart at the seams, belligerent like a caged dog.

The writing is in a delicate style that guides you gently through the story until (I expect in later chapters) you suddenly find yourself crying for the boys. With only one chapter in, it has a great set-up already, so I look forward to the upcoming updates!

3. if it feels like love (then it must be love) (WIP, 75k) by @ranger-elizabeth

This story is set in a modern au where Gale is a freshman at college and John is his RA. It’s almost finished (10/11 chapters), but I only had time to read the first two chapters (for now). This is the kind of work that steals your sleep because you can’t put it down, so be careful if you start reading this late at night!

The first chapter plunges you immediately into that familiar college atmosphere. It reminded me of my own struggle dragging two suitcases through the country without help. Gale's anxiety about fitting in, making connections and the loneliness he feels are all very relatable. It made my heart ache. I love this boy.

I really enjoyed the POV switch between John and Gale. Already after the first two chapters, I felt that it added to the fic and made it even more engaging. I love the side characters too, they’re well-written and entertaining.

I think it was interesting that Gale started out struggling academically. It made a lot of sense in his situation, and it made his character's struggles realistic with actual impact. Gale's perfectionistic thoughts sounded just like me. 😭

Gale's complicated relationship with his parents is painful, and his parents' behaviour makes you want to slap them. I liked the way this relationship was explored on-screen as well, not just referred to as a past situation.

John is really sweet, warm and cheerful, his character brightened my mood every time he appeared.

I'm only two chapters in, but I look forward to the rest!

4. i feel so high school. (WIP, 10k) by @anachilles

Physics teacher!Gale x Football Coach!John high school au. Two chapters out so far.

This fic is shaping up to be a real comfort read to me, because it's written with such amazing humour that it made me smile and snicker several times. The first two chapters have been lighthearted but also contained an interesting conflict between John and Gale, a falling out in their past.

One of my favourite things so far is how their dynamic is written. It shows perfectly how these two click, even after not staying in touch for a long time. I loved strict teacher Gale and fun coach John 😄 Another highlight is Scout (John's dog), I can’t wait to see more of her!

A detail that caught my interest about John is that he’s the first one in his family with college education. I'm curious if we see a bit more about how this might effect him. I'm also curious about his family's religiousness.

I loved the complex relationship between John and Gale, and that there are a lot of things unsaid between them while John is still clearly obsessed with Gale. It’s so endearing and very in character for him.

The second chapter left me aching for John to reconcile fully with Gale, so I'm excited to read what's coming next!

~♡~

I'm a bit sad that I haven't had time to read more, but I will read the remaining chapters of all of the WIPs in this list, they all got me hooked. I also plan to continue with this review series. Next on my list are That Ol' Devil Called Love, To the Moon and Back, yours always and understanding in a plane crash.

I can’t wait to continue exploring all the amazing fics in the fandom! ❤️

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #mota fic rec #my fic reviews

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murfpersonalblog · 6 months

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IWTV Trailer (me losing my freaking marbles - YOLO) Pt2

I'm just going frame by frame thru AMC'S BEAUTIFUL new IWTV trailer. But I had to split this into 2 parts cuz Tumblr won't let me post 30+ pics. 🙄

They transition from Louis telling Claudia "It's you and me," to BB!Dan being "disrespectful"--yelling at Louis wanting him to make him a vamp, like we heard in S01E01.

And they immediately cut to the clip we've seen before of Louis crying & being dragged off by some old dude (if that's a vampire I feel bad for him, LOL). This might be Claudia/Madeleine's execution, rather than the Trial itself, cuz Louis was wearing a different outfit. (And Claudia's wearing the YELLOW DRESS! Imma be sick! 😭)

So I wonder when the "best outfit" Jam Reiderson said Claudia wears is gonna take place--which I'm assuming is the red Flamenco dress from the posters.

It is SO incredible that we're actually gonna see The Trial, and LESTAT BEING THERE, and seeing Madeleine & Armand & Santiago.

It's interesting that they cut from Armand saying it wasn't SanFran where he failed Louis but Paris, and jump to hallucination!Lestat mocking Armand, yelling "HA!" Is Louis' outfit the same as the one where the old dude dragged him out crying? It kinda looks the same. So is Louis imagining Lestat being FURIOUS with Armand for what's about to happen to Claudia? I wonder why Les is in THAT suit, cuz it looks like the same one he wore in S1E03 the night he kicked Jelly Roll Morton out of town & ragged on Louis about not wanting to kill humans.

Good lord, here we go. #GoneTooSoonMadeleine. U_U And I LIKE THE IMAGERY of the joint/shared transformation, nodding to Claudia desperately wanting Louis to be her (blood) spouse, as they make Madeleine together.

Jfc Louis really did almost kill BB!Daniel. O_O He shattered all that plaster--that's brain damage for sure--no wonder he can't remember the interview, LOL. (I still think Armand used the Mind Gift to make him forget everything.)

A lot of paintings and canvases--art heist Armand?! Are we finally gonna see how he made all that money, going around stealing priceless treasures!? (You can see Armand's feet floating, LOL.) Or is the inside of that chateau his coven raided, "we own dominion!"?

Daniel asking Louis: "YOU BUY THAT?"

AMC thinks they're FUNNY! Cuz they cut right from Armand stealing art he didn't BUY, to lovebomber!Lestat laughing in the townhouse and Louis yelling in what looks like a train station? So he's freaking TF out in public (just like Paul).

Ooooo--then they have Lelio!WolfKiller!Lestat about to attack someone (Magnus? Nope, I double-checked it's Armand cuz ofc it is), looking like the freaking BEAST in his red cape--

--right before we get Lestat's POV of Louis and him fighting in Ep5.

Cuz yeah, Lestat had snapped, and was beating Louis like he was a DOG, like he wasn't even seeing a PERSON, let alone someone he was supposed to be protecting from vampires/monsters LIKE HIM--and OMFG Louis was in blue just like Belle was during the wolf attack--I hate this show.

And they immediately jump from Louis getting beat by Lestat to what I assume is Louis getting jumped by the Theatre--trapped in the coffin they were gonna bury him alive in.

What on earth is Claudia throwing? I swear I think these are bombed/blown-up body parts--pieces of someone's life gone cuz of the WAR. (And immediately cut to Loustat fighting.)

"Who are you, Louis? If there was no ME, if there was no HIM." So yes, the fan theory that Louis WANTS those pieces gone are correct. Or rather--Louis THOUGHT that having those pieces removed would help him. He thought he could recover the lost parts of himself if he wiped his mind of the painful memories. But something must've triggered him--likely finding Claudia's diaries after the 1970s--we are SOOOOO deep in Merrick territory. Cuz Louis wants those memories BACK now--with a vengeance.

*squints* Are they really GOING THERE with Lesmand!? O_O That's not Nickistat, right? Cuz the very next clip is Armand--using telekinesis on Louis (or Daniel?) WTF?!

And then we see the familiar clip of Armand using the Fire Gift when he first meets Louis. Just paralleling how much Armand openly flaunts his many gifts in front of Louis, while Lestat tried to hide everything he could do to not scare Louis away--until Ep5 ofc.

Doomed "happy" "family." YELLOW DRESS ALERT ☝️. The calm b4 ish hits the fan. They immediately cut to Claudia being "welcomed" by the Theatre and Santiago zooming thru the tunnel--

--DEATH to all of them! "F**k these vampires"--Claudia never lied!

Louis, you are just too dang pretty--GTFO off my dang screen. 😍

Another YELLOW dress--these images are cursed.

Loustat reunion at the Trial, if that's the same outfit Lestat wore here.

Give him hell, Armand! 😈 He wanted to be the Devil's Minion so bad--here you go! Look at all that glass shattering around him; no wonder Daniel's scared for his life, LOL! (If this is actually Louis throwing a fit I will DIE.)

Louis finna GO OFF on this BUFFOON! So THAT'S why Armand was mad! XD Louis (or Claudia?) was about to rip Santiago's whole jaw off! XDDDD

The sound of Louis just crying has me in a STATE. AMC is doing something SO freaking different from the film & the books. Louis is actively trying to make sense of things, as we see this poor man just suffering with PTSD and mental illness; with no one to HELP him but some crotchety old man who borderline hates him, and an old AF vampire who'd loves him so much that he'd rather have Louis forget everything cuz ignorance is bliss. 😩

Louis WANTS to remember everything. Armand does NOT want the interview. And Daniel is scared.

Holy freaking goodness, what an incredible trailer. 👏 May 12th can't get here fast enough!

#interview with the vampire #loustat #loumand #louis de pointe du lac #louis de pointe du black #justice for claudia #must see tv #the hype is real

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sillyvampireboi · 2 months

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A new letter, in my electronic mailbox!

AO3

Summary: Armand starts receiving loads of love letters to his electronic mailbox, as he calls it, after the success of Daniel’s book, bombarding his useful iPad with notifications. Why do strangers “love him” so much? Writing such intimate letters to him? While Daniel never writes anything. He must find out.

contents: pov Armand, first person, Armand x Daniel, fluff, slight angst, slight emotional hurt, comfort, romantic, armand needs some love and reassurance!, he is sad meow meow

a/n: I just want some happiness for Armand ok? Also this whole fic was born from musings with @okaytosave <3 I hope you’ll like it :D | 👁️^👁️ <- this is Armand as emojis. No one can change my mind

let me know if you would like to be tagged :)

-English still isn’t my first language-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New era, new technology. New pace of life, new social norms.

I saw the slow death of my mortal life’s world dying, inventions, religions and ideas popping out of thin air, countless wars and and even more deaths. The rotting of old academies which were the only acceptable faiths a few years prior, abandoned places and cities that were used for more polished ones’ base, art styles changing, fashion and garments changing, dialects changing, languages changing. Changing, changing, changing.

Ever since I opened my eyes under the eternal night, I knew that change will be constant while I remain the same. This rotation happened rhythmically, slowly, inevitably, leaving enough time for its creatures to adapt. However as we waltzed into the 20th century, this sleepy melody began to alter. The music sheet decided to rewrite itself, to twitch here and there like a beetle on his back, but still following the original melody with these slight changes.

Then came the 21th century, with his new suit and confident lettering. He glanced once onto his fathers’ theme and murdered it with a steady move of his pen. The tune turned from the unhurried pace and formed into a metallic scream.

Changing, changing, changing.

This one word has never been more true to any other century than this present one.

My interest first started to grow with a funny device called the telephone. I could speak to someone in France while I was in any other part of the world with it! As years danced by me, I witnessed that same machine evolve. First it shrank. Got smaller and smaller, until at last I could put it in my pocket.

Then came the ‘Internet’. It changed even more things in this racing century and—

“Are you still looking at those emails? Really?” - I heard Daniel’s low vibrato next to me. We were laying on our shared bed in our new apartment. Long, thick curtains framed the windows, now placed on either side of the pale blue painting that was the sky. The blinking stars were invisible in this new hour, covered by the polluting light of the streets.

Oh my sweet, seeing through me Daniel. He knew what worries or excites me without being able to read my mind. He simply sees me for what I am.

“Ever since you published your book, mortals keep sending me letters. People I don’t know nor have ever met. I don’t understand how they know my address.” - a loud snort was the only answer that Daniel honormed me with. He was covered with our heavy blanket that he liked, reminding him the warmth and comfort it brought him when he was still a human. As the owner of all the pillows, even mine, he was half laying - half sitting while he was scrolling through the application called twitter, now renamed as X. Not a smart decision in my opinion. It’s always been more flourishing for a company to have some kind of unique or catchy name.

“Daniel, beloved, please listen to me. — for a moment he glanced at me, the half amused expression in his eyes with his half mocked eyebrow that jumped up on his forehead — Yes, I’m still looking at these ‘emails’. I’ve been browsing through these letters and many of these individuals have been referred to me as ‘little meow meow’ and ‘dear’ or ‘demon kitten’. Please love, what does it mean? Of course, I know what kitten and meow means, however I still fail to understand how these apply to me. But Daniel, what do they mean by ‘demon’? Is this a reference to my vampire nature? If so, I would ask you to tell your followers it’s not true! Love - why are you laughing?

Daniel’s laugh filled my ears, borrowing a giggling sensation into my body. I loved his laugh. His sarcastic wheezings were frequent and without a stop, falling like rain upon a curly head. His good hearted laughs like this however! They felt like a special occasion of my heart whether I made him laugh or not. Although I felt my dead heart skip joyously when I caused his self forgetting roar.

“ It’s because of your face.”

“ My face? I don’t look like a cat! I’m far from it.”

“ They think you look very pretty and adorable. Like a little kitten, who can’t do anything wrong.”

“ ….Are they the only ones who think I look pretty and adorable?”

“ Flirting with me huh? Are you looking for compliments, now that I’m your fledgling? You know well how I feel, I don’t need to spell it out.”

But I don’t! Please say it! I need to know! Please please please! I can never be so sure in my or your feelings. I can lull myself into the lie of love as I did with Louis, but I'm so tired. Fatigued by the endless knot of loneliness around my neck, please spell it out for me!

I wanted to say, but I didn’t. Just stared at him silently with my usual expression of calmness as his face was illuminated by the light of his phone. I know my face was the perfect practiced mask, but I assume my eyes showed a glimpse into my turmoil because Daniel’s features changed.

He put down his phone, somewhere amongst the folds of our bedsheets, and oh so gently he held the left side of my cheek in his palm. I leaned into his touch immediately, melted like snow under the mellow heat of the sun. He pulled me towards him and hinted a kiss on my other cheek.

I slanted towards him, wanting more, not simply the only child kisses here and there, but the whole family and its storm. I wanted to be devoured by his all so consuming love, finally melting out of the ice I've buried myself in.

“ I love you.” — heard my love’s voice close to me. He placed another kiss on my eyelids, the most intimate part of the body. How frequently do you see someone’s closed eyelids? When they are in deep sleep, flying among their safe dreams? — “ And no. They are not the only ones who think you are pretty and adorable, just so you know, you dickhead.”

Ah my dear Daniel with his sinful tongue! I relearned with him how it feels to laugh and smile.

I giggled into his traveling lips, suddenly shy to deepen the kiss. — “ Apart from ‘not the only ones’ , who else thinks that I am those things? I haven’t seen electronic letters from my starred address.

“Oh, so this is what annoyed you, is it? I’m not rescuing the princess with my typed out words. Will he let down his hair too, if I go to the lengths to send a raven to him ?”

“Hm! So why this stranger, who sent 5 separate letters to my electric mailbox, all of them detailing an adoration towards myself, could express more appreciation to me then you?

“ You think I don’t appreciate you? I rather spend my night with more useful things than typing out words I can tell you. We live together, remember? “

“ You are on your phone all day beloved, harassing that American ex-president with the yellow wig—“

“ Come on, that’s besides the point. I don’t need to send detailed emails since I share a bed with you, Armand. I can tell you how I feel, just like I did now. .. Is that really so important to you? “

I huffed and silently stood up with my iPad. He doesn’t understand. It seems so insignificant to him, such an unimportant act. Of course, he is capable of speaking and expressing his care to me in his own ways, which I really appreciate that we can talk through, but ….

“ Hey, where are you going?” — Daniel’s voice followed me faintly as I floated out of the window, towards my destination.

~~*~~

I was standing in front of an apartment complex, with many tiny apartments inside. As I was blinking under the streetlamp, I saw many of them wrapped in shadows at that late hour, but the one I needed still bathed in a faint yellow light.

How the streets and buildings changed within this century! Seemingly, in a blink of an eye. All life, all beauty and art disappeared from the newly built systems, and lazily leaked into the sewers. Oh how far we got from the Medicis!

With my iPad still in my hand, I effortlessly opened the front door and floated upwards without a sound, in the center of the zigzagging stairs.

On the floor, I knocked on the plain white door, which wore the same lifeless appearance as its partners.

“Who could it be that late?” I heard your soaring thoughts, grumpily addressed to me. It felt like years until you opened your door, so leisure were your movements. Upon seeing me, many different emotions washed over your fragile form, from the first surprise to the blushing anticipation. It seemed like you lost your voice, so great was your astonishment.

“We’ve never met. I don’t know you, why did you send this? Explain it to me.” — I opened up the Pandora box of my questions, showing your own letters to you on my iPad.

You just stared, mouth slightly agape, looking between your own words on my screen and my face. As I waited for your answer, my gaze traveled behind you, into your cozily stuffed home. Right in front of me on the wall hung a huge mirror, reflecting me in the weak light from the hallway. My eyes were huge as usual, staring into space while the rest of my face was emotionless.

I waited and waited and waited, yet you still haven’t talked, merely your skin got redder, your veins pumping your sweet blood into your head with a thundering noise.

“Pay him no mind.” — all of the sudden I heard Daniel’s deep voice behind me. Looking up into the mirror I saw him lazily leaning to the wall, crossing his legs and arms in a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ fashion as he liked to call it. He was wearing his black, leather jacket and little round sunglasses, which I fancied seeing him in. — “‘He understands parasocial adoration from the old word, he is just your boomer’s boomer.’”

I felt blood traveling to my cheeks, heating up my cold skin. I saw myself blushing under Daniel’s amused gaze. He lifted his eyebrows in a ‘what now pretty boy?’ way. My blushing was followed by a surprised oh, then I remembered that I was still angry at him, so I knotted my eyebrows to show clearly my frustration.

“Daniel I have the right to inquire about such letters regarding my self. Parasocial isn't the word that I would - Excuse me for a moment” — here I turned away from you, looking Daniel in the eye — “ I still await an answer from them. And Daniel this is the last time I tolerate your stalking while I pursue- “

“Look who's talking about stalking, Miss Stalker. Also, you left without a word. I thought we had a moment of trauma bonding.”

“Daniel, I need to know..” — I trailed off, seeing a sudden notification on my lock screen.

A new letter, in my electronic mailbox! Its title said: ‘Here is your first love letter, fake Rashid’.

I felt my muscles loosen and tighten on my face in a warm, familiar way. I felt my lips dancing, my blood chuckling and the air from my lungs tittering outward.

“You sent it to me?”

“Yes I did. And just so you know, there is more where it came from. I didn’t know it was so important to you, Armand. You’ll get my ‘love letters’ princess.

You, who were of the utmost importance to me a few minutes ago, were locked out of my mind. The only being I saw was Daniel. Daniel smiling at me. Daniel mocking me in a sarcastic adoring way. Daniel waiting for me and holding my hand.

Daniel, Daniel Daniel, Daniel.

He pulled me, waltzing away with me into the cool night, back to our home. Our home. What a nectary taste it has on my tongue.

I felt myself flying while still stepping on the dark earth, laughing unselfishly under the invisible stars, still holding Daniel’s hand, feeling the ice melting inside my heart.

~~*~~

The sun woke behind the blotchy buildings of the era, smiling away the cold shadows. Daniel already slept sweetly in our room, awaiting the next sunfall.

Only a day passed since his first letter, however my electronic, organized folders were filled with his chaotic letters.

‘Here is your 27th love letter, fake Rashid’, I read that morning.

I’m pretty sure he meant to annoy me with the number of ‘emails’ he queued to be sent. Instead of annoyance, they became a sacred prayer I waited every day. I’ll need to buy more space to store them securely. Or I could print them out, hang them on the wall. It would irritate Daniel so much!

After reading his 27th letter, I ambled into our bedroom. He was deep in his vampiric sleep, laying on his back, still as a corpse.

I climbed next to him, throwing my arms around his neck and stealing kisses all over his cold face and lips.

“I love you Daniel.” — I whispered into his ear as I snuggled into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for your letters.”

#iwtv #iwtv fanfiction #interveiw with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire fic #iwtv fic #armandaniel #the vampire armand #iwtv daniel #daniel molloy #armanddaniel #armand x daniel #daniel x armand #armandiel #my writings

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onboardsorasora · 8 months

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Mob Wife!Daniel Pt2? (Max POV)

truly, my lack of self control is my gift to all of you lmao @dancinginthestreet9 this one's for you bestie You can find the OG Post here and here

Daniel was beautiful. He was funny, charming and kind. Daniel was also Christian’s.

When he’d first been offered the job, Esteban had tried to warn him that Daniel was a diva and a hardass. But Max had a rule to never listen to anything Esteban had to say, and it's still held up to this day.

The first time it happened, Daniel had cornered Max in the study. He’d braced him against the wall and sucked his dick. Max was been riddled with anxiety for days after– he’d been pretty sure there was a hit already out on him.

Christian hadn’t said anything and Daniel had continued on like nothing happened.

The first time they fucked, Daniel had begged for it. Daniel had stripped down to his brightly patterned jock and laid down on the bed.

Max’s eyes widened when Daniel spread his legs and stroked the obscene bulge of his dick. He’d stared at Max with a challenging brow raised.

“You should put your clothes back on, maybe.” Max had suggested.

“You should fuck me.” Daniel had bargained instead. He’d flipped onto his hands and knees and arched his back, presenting his hole like the best strippers did. Max had idly wondered if Daniel had been a stripper.

“I think– no. It isn’t a good idea.”

“Your dick tastes so good, it felt amazing in my mouth, I need it in my cunt Maxy. please.”

And Max was only a strong man when there was a gun in his hand. He’d fucked Daniel right there in the guest room, because Daniel didn’t want to disrespect his marriage bed. That guest room eventually became Max’s room after Daniel told Christian he needed Max closer at all times.

The argument over Max had been anticlimatic in Max’s opinion.

“How long?” Christian leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. He looks annoyed. Daniel is sitting pissily on their bed, glaring off to the side. Swollen lips pouting. Christian had come home and caught them making out.

“Why bother ask when you know?” Daniel snarked back, he folded his arms as well.

“Are you gonna stop?” Christian sounded like he was asking if they had weekend plans.

“Fuck no. You’re never here anymore, what am I supposed to do? Hump the bed until you get home?” Daniel looked furious. Max had always wondered about their dynamic, it was clear there was a different conversation being left unsaid. “At least I’m not hiding it.” Daniel snaps.

Christian clenches his jaw but nods and leaves the room. It happened more frequently after that, Max had essentially moved in. Christian eventually came home from whatever it was that had needed his attention. No one brought it up again, it was just a known thing.

Max always tried to be respectful, to not be too bold or overt with Daniel in his presence. He also didn’t get too jealous when Daniel went to Christian, because that was his husband and first love.

So yeah, Daniel was Christian’s but he was also Max’s.

#mobwife daniel #mob wife au #maxiel #max/daniel #christian/daniel #horncciardo #I don't know their ship name. someone please tell me?#my fic #almost fic lol

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cinnamongorll · 9 months

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a fragile line - chapter 18

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 5.6k

Chapter 18: 'Funny'

Juliet’s POV:

Her father’s hand on her back was surprisingly gentle, cautious even. His fingers didn’t dig into her flesh, didn’t cling to the curve of her bones, didn’t leave imprints. Elijah walked Juliet up the porch steps and into the towering, battered, house which had made an appearance in every nightmare she awoke from for the past several years. Scott led the way, gripping her confiscated backpack in the same hand he used to turn the handle on the front door, his other hand reached into his red hair, scratching his skull. Juliet remembered the nervous tics of the men her father liked to keep in his employ, she remembered their stares, she remembered everything.

Her father’s hand was delicate, soft… until it wasn't. Until it pushed against her in one staggering movement. Juliet could practically feel her father’s strength rippling down his arm before it met her back, propelling her forward into the dark green armchair. Juliet landed with a thump, her head smacking off the hardwood hidden behind the velvet material. She groaned, twisting her body to sit upright, to place her world back on its axis.

Elijah stared down at her, his piercing pale blue eyes were so intense they looked almost white as they watched her struggle to sit upright. Juliet didn’t reach a hand up to touch the bump now forming on her forehead, neither did she allow any glimmer of tears to approach her wide stare. Juliet just straightened her back, tilted her chin up, and met her father’s icy look with a dark glare of her own.

A satisfied smirk crossed her father’s mouth, his lips tilting into a wicked curve. Then he stepped backwards into the matching armchair opposite her. His landing was much softer, less painful.

They sat in the living room, surrounded by ornate furniture and trinkets which covered nearly every surface of the room. Bookshelves were filled with religious texts, their spines bent and cracked with age and repeated use. Juliet’s eyes scanned the stiflingly familiar room as Elijah’s eyes roamed across her face, investigating every change in her features with raised eyebrows. Juliet’s gaze moved in the direction of the hall and she had to stop herself from flinching, she was excruciatingly aware that every microscopic movement she made would be caught by her father's analytical stare. Juliet peered through the open door which led into the darkening hall, and all she could see was her past self standing before her father as the air slowly left her weakening lungs.

Juliet looked away, into Elijah’s awaiting gaze. Her nails began to dig into her palms, the fresh pain mingled with the crescent shaped scars which had already left their mark.

Her father’s smirk deepened, then his eyes shifted to the space behind her. “Scott and Daniel, we will require some tea,” he said to the men Juliet hadn’t noticed stood behind her, lingering around her chair like metal statues. Her father’s voice was quiet and pleasant as he made his request, but Juliet knew that the men were entirely under his authority, under his control. They would follow his every order, without question or argument. Both men nodded and left the room, the sound of their footsteps following them to the kitchen.

“Now,” her father began, pausing as he sat further back in his chair, sinking into the plush cushions before resting his arms on its sides. When he was comfortable, he continued.

“I see you got my letter,” Elijah mused.

It wasn’t a question, but he still awaited an answer. Juliet swallowed. “Yes,” she croaked out. Her voice was rough, her reply caught in the backlog all the words she had wanted to say outside to Joel, but was forced to choke down instead.

Her father nodded, amusement now glimmering in his cold stare. He liked when Juliet was nervous, when he was the obvious one in control.

“It took quite a while to find you. Hiding all the way in Boston,” he observed, stopping to make a repeated tsk, tsk, tsk sound with his tongue. Juliet dug her nails in deeper, then checked her features to ensure her expression was still entirely vacant, giving her father no weaknesses to cling to. “How did you make it so far?” her father finally asked, leaning forward in his chair.

When Elijah shifted forward, Juliet leaned back. “I found a group, travelled with them,” she replied, keeping her answer as vague as possible. Juliet’s eyes never left her father’s face, she was desperate to see his reaction. Her words were treason, she had just admitted to her knowledge that there were more survivors in the world, that her father had been lying to her and their entire community. Of course her father knew of her new understanding, he had found her in a QZ after all, and she had arrived here with a stranger to the town. But to actually say the words, words that, only a few years ago, would have been blasphemy to her… Juliet was desperate to see how her father would spin this, how he would deny her claims.

To her surprise, her father’s expression did not change, there were no signs of shock or anger. Elijah just raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I suspected as much. You lived sheltered and cared for your whole life, I assumed you had found someone to latch onto. You always were a dependent, vulnerable little girl.”

White hot rage sparked through Juliet’s body. She felt her muscles begin to harden, her entire body turning to stone as burning anger flowed through her. Juliet knew her father’s games, she understood completely that he was challenging her, playing with her.

What he didn’t know, however, was that, while his game had stayed the same all these years, his opponent had changed.

Juliet swallowed her anger, careful to not let it show on her face. She kept her reactions minimised to the clench of her fists, to the blood that bloomed under her fingernails.

“So you knew?” she asked, a crease forming between her eyebrows. No hint of her blazing rage appeared in her features, only a mild curiosity. “You knew that we weren’t the only survivors? That there were other people alive?” she continued, her voice calm and inquisitive.

Her father was quiet for a moment, surveying her face like a chessboard. Then he barked out a laugh and leaned back, folding his hands across his chest. “Look at you, demanding answers from me,” he accused, all the humour dying in his eyes. His permanent smirk was gone, his mouth had hardened into a thin line as he stared at Juliet. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

At that moment, Scott walked back in the room with Daniel behind him, one holding a tray of teas and the other holding a jug of milk. Elijah clapped his hands in delight, sitting up straighter in his chair as the men placed the mugs on the table between them. Once all of the items were laid out, the men resumed their position behind Juliet. She squirmed in her seat.

Elijah made them both a cup of tea, sliding Juliet’s towards her. She leaned forward to pick it up, almost flinching when the hot mug met her bloodied palms. As always, Juliet got used to the pain, it grounded her, reminded her of why she was there, and what she needed to do.

She took a slow sip, mirroring her father’s movements, then brought the mug down to rest on her dark jeans. Juliet glanced up, ensuring she had her father’s entire focus. “Where is Ethan?” she demanded, her voice strong and steady. The heat of the tea sliding down her throat stoked the blazing rage in her gut.

Elijah displayed no sense of anger or surprise at her tone, he just continued to leisurely sip at his tea. This was another one of his famous moves, Juliet was amazed at how quick they returned to her mind. Probably because her memories of her father had never really faded, they had always been there, present and ready to remind her of the horrors she left behind.

Eventually, her father brought his mug down to rest on his lap. “I was wondering when you would ask,” he pondered, his voice almost monotone as though they were discussing something as boring as the weather. “He’s alive, of course,” her father revealed.

Juliet couldn’t help the strangled gasp that released from her mouth, relief flooded her body like a bucket of cold water over a raging fire. This whole time, every step of her journey here, Juliet feared the worst. But if Ethan was alive, it meant he could be saved. And Juliet was so close.

“Although,” her father’s voice interrupted her racing thoughts. “I’m surprised you still care for him, it looked as though you had found someone new. What was his name again? Joel?”

Despite herself, Juliet shifted in her seat. She feared the direction this conversation was taking. Her final night in this home was marred by her father’s allconsuming rage over her relationship with Ethan, and now he assumed she had a relationship with another man. Her father kept his cards close to his chest but Juliet knew that he was flaming inside with fury. Juliet just hoped she could ensure Ethan’s safety, and that Joel had left the community, before he erupted.

Juliet gritted her teeth. “I’m not here to talk about Joel, I want to know where Ethan is,” she insisted, nearly breathless with the strength it took to say those words.

Her demand was met with silence, but Juliet could feel the men behind her shifting on their feet. She looked down at the mug resting on her thighs and began to run her finger around the rim, attempting to distract herself from her father’s weighted silence.

Before she could look back up, a sudden crash filled the room. Juliet flinched as her head flew upwards to search for the source of the sound. Her father was standing in front of his chair, and below him, on the table was his mug, now smashed to pieces as tea rapidly spilled over the dark wood.

A numbness swept over Juliet, tightening her muscles and slowing her mind. At the sound of the crash, at the evidence of her father’s rage, Juliet’s body had reverted back to its usual response from all those years ago. Time began to slow, as it always had, and Juliet sunk deeper into the green velvet armchair, wishing she could fold herself between the cushions and disappear. Her father stalked over to her, his steps slow and deliberate before he stopped right in front of her chair, towering over her.

Juliet watched him with intense precision as he stared down at her, his chest moving with his heavy breaths. She desperately calculated what his next move might be. Her father might have left his seat, but the game continued.

Without warning, Juliet felt her father’s hands grip the front of her shirt and pull her to her feet. The mug on her lap fell to the floor, smashing into tiny pieces as the tea splashed on the ends of her jeans. Once she had stumbled to her feet, her father did not let go, he continued to hold tight against her shirt, tilting it upwards, using the pressure to restrict her breathing. This was one another of his favourite moves. He stood before her, his face just inches from away, a snarl covered his mouth as his eyes widened in pure satisfaction.

As the pressure on her throat increased, Juliet felt an intense blast of fear. But it was different this time. Juliet had changed a lot in the past few years, she was no longer the naïve, cowardly girl who was entirely unable to fight back. Juliet could fight, she was a survivor, she could do a number of things to her father right now to get him to let go. But she wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t just her life that hung in the balance, it was Ethan’s too. Her father hadn’t agreed to release him yet, Juliet had no idea where he was or what had happened to him. So she had to pretend, she had to face her father’s punishments and hopefully, in a fit of rage, her father would reveal something about Ethan’s whereabouts.

When the familiar black spots began to enter her vision, her father finally let go. Juliet dropped back into the armchair, clutching her throat and coughing brutally. Her father continued to tower over her, seething with rage.

“Do you have any idea what you did when you ran away? Do you?” he shouted into her face as he leaned closer. Juliet flinched as the words met her ears. “I am the leader of this town and my own daughter left in the dead of night. How do you think that made me look? Huh?” her father spat.

“How was I supposed to explain that? To the good people of this town, how was I supposed to explain that my daughter took everything we gave her for granted and abandoned us? Abandoned me?” he seethed, his eyes wild.

Juliet tried not to let her eagerness seep into her expression as she watched her father rage. This was what she wanted, she wanted to rile him up, to force some sort of confession out of him, to trick him into revealing Ethan’s location. She looked up at him, allowing a sliver of her anger to coat her words as she slowly whispered. “Maybe you could have told them the truth. Maybe you could have stopped lying to them, stopped controlling everything they do and actually told them why your daughter had to risk her life escaping from this hellhole.” Her voice was quiet but cold as she watched the fury ripple in her father’s pale eyes.

Juliet wasn’t surprised when her head flew to the side with the force of her father’s slap. “You selfish, ungrateful bitch,” her father growled. “You think because you lived outside the fence, because you whored yourself out to any man who would help you, that you know anything at all?” he started to laugh, a dry humourless laugh which didn’t come close to meeting his eyes.

“Ethan’s screams lasted for months before we broke him, before he told us all about your little love story,” he seethed. Juliet began to tremble at the thought of Ethan suffering her father’s punishment.

“His confession saved him, he’s on the right path now. Praying all day, every day, for his sins,” Elijah explained, a sick sense of pride seeping into his cold tone.

“He understands now that it was you , my sweet Juliet, who led him astray. That it was you who was touched by the devil, not him,” her father’s smile returned as he continued to speak. “You see, I misjudged Ethan. And now that you have returned to us, he will watch you complete the same journey.” Elijah stepped back, finally giving Juliet some space to breathe.

Her mind was swirling with never ending questions. Her plan was unravelling, Ethan was alive but at what cost? Her father had brainwashed him, convinced him that she had damned him, and led him away from the path of God. Juliet felt sick, she couldn’t even gloat in the knowledge that she had forced her father to reveal his plan, because it was just so horrific. Juliet just wanted to know that Ethan was alive, where he was, and when he was going to be released. She hadn’t realised how far her father’s rage had spread, although she shouldn’t be surprised.

“In fact, Ethan should join us for this first stage,” Elijah spoke, shaking Juliet from her mind’s entanglement of confusion and dread. “Go fetch him, will you?” he asked Scott, who nodded and immediately left the room. Juliet heard the front door slam shut seconds later.

Juliet felt hollow. It was like she was back at that fence, all those years ago, as she watched the gate close behind her, sealing Ethan in. Juliet felt that loss all over again. Ethan was gone, she was too late, she couldn’t save him. He might be alive, but if what her father said was true, he wasn’t Ethan anymore.

Juliet choked on a sob. She had come all this way to save a man who could no longer be saved. She had dragged Joel into this mess, bribed him to come all this way, for nothing.

A new stab of fear pulsed through her. Joel. Would her father just let him go free once the morning came? Or would her father’s possessiveness strike him down too. Juliet never thought it would get to this point, she imagined her father would be so grateful towards Joel, so thankful that he returned her to him. She was so stupid, it was so reckless to involve another person in her horror. Juliet prayed her father would forget about Joel, forget that Juliet hadn’t actually denied her feelings towards him, prayed that he would go free in the morning with his gifted supplies and never return.

Saying goodbye to him earlier was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. When she had squeezed his rough fingers, Juliet nearly whispered that she wanted to stay with him. Nearly said those words, used that out that he had offered her, and continued to travel the country side by side. And when her eyes flashed to his lips, Juliet thought back to the night she leaned over his injured body, when the heat in Joel’s eyes matched her own. The memory of his hot lips crashing over hers entered her mind with a staggering intensity, and with it, came the sickening guilt that stayed with her long after that night. It was wrong to kiss him, and allow him to kiss her back.

There was an attraction between them, a spark of desire which built in every lingering stare or accidental touch. Juliet watched that spark blaze in Joel’s eyes just the night before, when he had pinned her to the tree. She had watched his gaze drop to her lips and dart away so quickly she almost thought she had imagined it.

But Juliet hadn’t imagined that look in his eyes, she hadn’t imagined the way his pupils dilated until his stare was as black as the night around them, and she hadn’t imagined the way his hard body pressed against hers.

There was an attraction between them, yes. Juliet struggled to deny this. But it meant nothing, they weren’t even friends. Joel and Juliet were acquaintances with a mutual goal. Juliet didn’t see him any other way, and she knew that Joel didn’t care for her beyond the supplies she promised him. Joel would never look at her with anything other than a fleeting attraction. She was too young, too reckless, too broken. Joel and Juliet were always meant to part ways. Any lingering feelings were just the result of being trapped together for so long.

All this flashed through Juliet’s head as she squeezed Joel's fingers and darted away towards her father. And all those conflicted emotions must have been painted on her face when she met her father’s eyes. In that moment, he must have known how she felt about Joel.

Fuck.

Juliet blinked away the past and looked up at her father, who still stood before her, now with his hand outstretched. “Come,” he whispered, “it is time to begin your journey to salvation.”

Juliet had felt helpless before, many times, in fact. But not like this. Those tears she had pushed back with all her might began to fill her dark eyes. Elijah smiled in response. There was victory in his stare. He had won his little game. And Juliet, despite her years of training, years building a defence, had lost.

Her bleeding palm met her father’s smooth hand and Juliet allowed her body to be pulled up until she stood on her shaking legs.

Elijah’s triumphant smile did not leave his face as he led his daughter towards the basement.

Joel’s POV:

“I’m Ethan,” he croaked out, then squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long breath, before opening his eyes back into Joel’s dark gaze. “Juliet’s boyfriend.”

Joel’s entire body tensed, he almost dropped the knife in his hand. But Ethan wasn’t finished, he inhaled another breath, licked his lips, then swallowed again.

“And you’ve signed her death sentence bringing her back here,” he spat, venom dripping from his words.

Joel recoiled, the force of Ethan’s words almost knocked him backwards, then he moved. In one smooth motion, Joel knocked the bartender to the side with his elbow and wrapped his hand around Ethan’s throat. The bartender began to shout at him but Joel couldn’t hear it, wouldn’t hear it. All Joel wanted to listen to was the sputtering breath of the fucking liar wriggling against his hand.

Joel leaned closer, until his face was inches away from Ethan’s wild eyes, then he moved to his ear and murmured, in a voice like gravel. “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re not gonna say her name again until I say so. We clear?”

Despite the strong hand crushing his windpipe, Ethan managed a shaky nod and Joel instantly released him, stepping back a few steps. The bartender was livid, shooting Joel a dark look before he ran to Ethan, and helped him put an arm over his shoulder before they both staggered to the metal chair in the corner of the room. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling made the room look fit for an interrogation, like on one of those detective shows Joel used to watch, in another life.

Joel watched the interaction between Ethan and the bartender with an inquisitive stare. They clearly knew each other and Ethan was obviously injured beyond the fresh bruising on his throat, courtesy of Joel. As he observed their interactions, Ethan’s words echoed around Joel’s head, reminding him that he needed answers and he needed them now.

“Get off him, I’ll take it from here,” Joel said to the bartender, gesturing for him to leave using the knife still gripped tight in his hand.

“What are you going to do with him?” the bartender asked as he stood, his eyes flicking between Joel’s menacing stare and Ethan’s pleading eyes. Ethan’s coughing filled the narrow room, he placed a hand on the stone wall beside him to steady himself.

“Just talk,” Joel answered with a tilt of his head.

The bartender didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here, but if Juliet’s back,” he paused, swallowing rough after mentioning Juliet’s name, “then Ethan’s right, she’s in trouble. Hear him out,” the bartender urged, then turned to face the door. “I’ll keep the eyes and ears away from you both, but talk quick.” With one last look at Ethan’s weary form, the bartender left the room.

Wasting no time, Joel stalked closer to Ethan. His coughing had stopped, but his heavy breathing remained. Now that Joel took a proper look at him, he noticed the fresh blood spread across his knuckles.

“I’m gonna give you two minutes to explain who the hell you are and what the hell you know about Juliet, or that bruise on your throat will be the least of your worries,” Joel ground out, actively restraining himself from gripping hold of Ethan and shaking the answers out of him. The mention of Juliet’s name had confirmed his worst fears, and as always, when Juliet was in danger, Joel was quick to turn to anger and violence.

Ethan looked up at him and rolled his eyes. Joel put his hand, which gripped his knife, on the wall above Ethan’s head, reminding him who he was talking to.

“I already told you, I’m Juliet’s b -” Ethan started, before Joel’s sharp words cut him off. “Why is she in danger? What do you know?” Joel demanded, he couldn’t bear to hear the word ‘boyfriend’ come out of Ethan’s mouth again. Joel refused to think about why.

“Her dad,” Ethan started, and Joel’s stomach dropped. “Her dad, Elijah, is the leader of his town. And he’s a real psychopath. I’ve known Juliet since we were both kids and he was always strange, especially around Juliet, but it wasn’t till we got older that I noticed the bruises,” Ethan explained, pausing to catch his breath.

Joel’s throat was burning with the need to shout and rage, but he contained himself, and waited for Ethan to continue. “Juliet would have these thick bruises all over her arms and her legs, in places you could cover with trousers or long t-shirts. When I realised it was her dad, I tried to convince her to leave with me. But she wouldn’t go, see, Elijah told us all that we were the only survivors. He’d have a patrol route for his inner circle but he would always say it was just to find new hunting ground,” Ethan scoffed, his eyes were glassy, as though his mind was trapped in the past he spoke of. Joel listened intently, his rage practically simmering on his skin.

“One night, probably four years ago now, Elijah found out about us,” Ethan paused, as Joel moved closer, towering over him now. Then Ethan wiped his nose with a trembling hand and continued his brutal tale. “And he nearly killed her. That night, I had enough and made the decision for Juliet. I helped her escape her house and we made it to the fence, but her dad found us and I distracted him to let Juliet get through the fence -”

“You sent her out there on her own?” Joel interrupted, his words viciously accusatory.

“It was either that or let her dad kill her. What would you have done?” Ethan shot back.

Joel pushed himself off the wall, turning his back to Ethan and running a hand over his forehead. It was unbearable, the pressure on his chest. Joel had brought her back here, he walked her through that gate and all the way to her father’s house, to her abuser’s house. Fuck. Joel kicked the stone wall, a chunk of crumbling paint fell to the ground with the force of his boot.

Joel turned back to Ethan. “What happened after she left?” he demanded, but didn’t give Ethan a chance to answer before he fired another question his way. “She told me her dad was sick, why would she say that? Why would she want to come back here?”

“She’s back because of me,” Ethan answered, his voice quiet as his eyes began to study his bloody knuckles. Joel, in a rare display of patience, waited for him to continue.

“After I got Juliet out, Elijah decided I was no longer fit for society. He decided that I had forsaken the word of God and had to be punished, or ‘saved’ as he called it,” Ethan said, with a humourless laugh. “Locked me in a fucking barn, like an animal. Only letting me out long enough for the rest of the town to see I was still alive. He told my parents that I was on a ‘journey with God’ and they actually believed him. He’s got this whole town wrapped around his finger,” he scoffed.

“Nearly four years of torture, and tonight, when Scott turned up at my door and told me Juliet was home, I knew exactly what Elijah had done,” Ethan’s hands began to tremble. “You know, Elijah is a sick man, but he’s also incredibly smart. I don’t know how he did it but I’d bet my life that he lured her back here by threatening to kill me, he’d know that’s the only way Juliet would return to this hellhole.”

Joel was clenching his fist so tight he thought the bones in his fingers might fracture. Everything was starting to make sense. Juliet’s dad was never sick and she always knew what she was returning to. That was why she had that haunted look in her eyes every time he even broached the subject of her dad. Shit, how could he be so blind? Joel wanted to kick the wall again, but he was frozen in place, it was like his body was shutting down. The whole journey with Juliet was a lie, and she didn’t say anything to him.

Why would she? In Juliet’s eyes, all Joel wanted from her was the supplies she promised. And he had given her no reason to think otherwise. She had delivered, fulfilled her promise despite the cost, and then she had squeezed his hand and walked away from him. Joel ground his jaw hard.

Ethan’s voice broke through the turmoil in Joel’s head. “I don’t know what Elijah has planned, but I’m involved somehow. For the past year maybe, his ‘lessons’ became very focused on Juliet and all the ways she had wronged me and the town. I think he’s been trying to turn me against her, that's when I began to suspect that he was trying to find her.”

“When Scott came to me, he tried to take me to Elijah but I managed to knock him out,” Ethan glanced at the broken skin on his hands. Joel raised his eyebrows, surprised this almost emaciated man had the strength to knock someone unconscious.

“He’ll wake up soon, if he hasn’t already. Elijah will know I’m not on his side,” Ethan murmured, fear creeping into his quiet voice.

Joel wanted to shut him up, he was sick of hearing the horrors that passed his lips. Every word from Ethan’s mouth tightened the knot in Joel’s chest. All Joel could think of was getting Juliet back to him, getting her out of here safely.

Joel wasn’t sure when he began to think of her beyond the supplies she offered him. It was gradual, achingly slow, almost unnoticeable, but Joel began to crave the feeling of her eyes on him. He began to long for the way his chest tightened when a smile brightened her face. How she was able to smile this whole time, knowing what was waiting for her… Joel almost choked on the fury that caught in his throat.

Joel struggled to understand the feeling, or even the thought, but Juliet had wormed her way into his chest and now the thought of her in pain or hurt in any way filled his whole body with a rage so intense that searched desperately for a release.

He should be forming a plan, should be continuing to listen to Ethan’s words which his mind had begun to drown out. But Joel was caught in between the past and present. Every interaction with Juliet had to be reevaluated with this new information, which forced Joel to relive those moments in his mind. When he thought of the night he was injured, he gasped out a strangled breath, refusing to look at Ethan’s confused expression.

Joel had awoken the following morning with the remaining feeling of Juliet’s lips on his, with the taste of her still lingering in his mouth. He had thought it was a dream, his brain was unable to conceptualise the idea of Juliet touching him without revulsion. But then he had looked in her wide eyes and watched the horror and guilt ripple through them, and Joel knew it had been real.

Joel was always quick to anger, but this time, it was towards himself. His hands shook with rage as his mind tore into him. He had been delirious, shaken with his injury, but it was no excuse. He had kissed her, kissed Juliet, the girl he was tasked with protecting. It was wrong, sick, even. He had prayed on a younger woman, taken advantage of her, forced himself on her after she had so bravely stitched him up.

When she had helped him onto the couch that morning, Joel bit his tongue till it bled, forcing himself not to register the feeling of her body on his. His stomach churned with self-hatred, stronger than the feeling usually was.

He was sick, depraved, a monster… because he found that had begun to crave Juliet’s touch, to find ways to be close to her.

But when she looked at him with that dark gaze, like it had been dropped in warm honey, Joel’s control had slipped. Joel began to taunt her, like the monster had taken hold of his mind for a brief moment, he did things like pin her against a tree and let his breath warm her cheeks. Every action was followed by gut wrenching guilt, and an ache low in his stomach, lower even, that he was unable to ignore.

Joel ran his hand through his hair, continuing to ignore Ethan’s rambling. He was utterly lost in the memory of Juliet, stuck in the past with the image of her smile, the look in her eyes when she fought men twice her size, and the way she laughed. Juliet laughed like she had no care in the world, like she actually enjoyed his silent, brooding company.

“Hey!” Ethan’s voice finally sliced through his thoughts, forcing his mind out of the past and into the present. “Are you listening?”

“What?” Joel fumed, turning to face him.

“I asked what you were thinking, we don’t have much time,” Ethan huffed, running a hand through his slicked hair.

Joel nodded quickly, and twisted the knife in his hand. The movement mirrored the repeated churning of his thoughts.

After a moment, he stopped, stilling the knife immediately before he turned to Ethan. Joel’s eyes dragged over his slim body and his unshaven face, then nodded down at him, the only peace offering he would give.

“Get up,” Joel ordered. “We’re gonna go get her.”

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