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terrence-silver · 7 months

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could you write something about poorsona!terry meeting hippie beloved at a bar while shes singing a stevie nicks cover? ive been obssesed with stevie lately

---

There's a guy who visits every night.

And of course, there's re-occurring patrons. Re-occurring guests. Regulars, as it were. But this one --- he lingers in the corners of the venue, in the crowd, around the backseats, by the exit of the corridor that led to the men's room, all by himself, blended into the shadows of the louder, more rambunctious visitors to your small slice of the stage. You sang as a hobby, really. Not exactly something you were being paid for. A jar for tips was just about the one thing there was available in terms of compensation and everyone was free to leave whatever they felt like leaving, which on good days was enough to pay for transport back home and some groceries. Every little bit helped. Fridays were open-mic night and the occasional brave soul could get up there, try their luck and do anything from a stand-up comedy routine, strumming the guitar or sure --- singing. That's why you noticed this man. Because you noticed every face, every individual that would pay attention, clap, cheer, even occasionally whistle, or perhaps, carelessly talk over your performance. You figured that it was something that simply went hand in hand with being an amateur. Every bit of feedback was blaringly obvious. Every person that cared was impossible to ignore. Every person who didn't, doubly so.

And sure, there were people who tended to be disrespectful.

Chat amongst themselves, engrossed in their conversations, ignoring you completely, laughing and clinking glasses, even going as far as shouting. You'd lie if you said that you weren't met with the occasional 'boo!' but your disappointment overtime turned into numbness and numbness turned into the decision that as much as it hurt, you wouldn't let a couple of knuckleheads ruin your passion for something and mess up a pleasant night out for those who really cared. Except, that one weekend --- when the venue was nearly empty, outside for a couple of people. You sit down at the bar before closing hours, sighing. You were allowed to be disappointed every now and then. Your jar of tips was empty and the month has only just started. You had bills due. -"Not as much of a crowd tonight."- You remark matter-of-factly, certainly a bit sad about it, yes, dragging an exasperated hand through your hair. The bartender sets a cool glass in front of you and pours. Sparkling water, on the house. Just what you needed to wash down your sore vocal cords before you headed out home. -"It's that guy."- The barman leans over and whispers discreetly. -"What guy?"- You take a sip of the refreshing beverage right before setting your glass down on the counter, confused. -"Tall ponytail guy. The one engrossed in your flower child routine."- He explains, looking up and down and pointing at your attire with the tip of nose, being good enough of a friend to where you took no offense to his harmless jab. -"He's been leading them outside."- He adds and you shake your head, momentarily even more confused.

-"What do you mean 'leading them outside'?"-

Before you even manage to get say those words outloud, their meaning hits you.

-"Like beating them up!?"-

You cover your mouth, slightly shocked. What? All of them? There were several patrons here that were a bit rowdy on occasion. Several you could single out. But, that one man couldn't have taken all of them. Could he? And how did you not notice that when you usually noticed so much? Did he just sling his arm around them and calmly suggest they should have a stroll outside of the venue so they don't make a mess inside or what? -"Kid, it's LA and we're in the year 1985 of our Lord. Don't know what grown men get up to outside when it's dark, and quite frankly, it's none of my business, but he sure didn't look like he was taking them out for a smoke and a friendly chat."- Your friend explains and you gulp, feeling partially intimidated, partially curious, partially extremely relieved over the simple fact that...maybe...just maybe...next time you preform up there, you'll actually preform in a peaceful, less nerve-wracking atmosphere. You didn't remember when was the last time that happened. You almost manage a tiny smile. The middle aged, portly bartender chuckled to himself as he returned to tinkering around the sink, rolling up his sleeves, joking to himself.

-"Should have the owner hire him as a bouncer. Definitely fits the bill. Lot quieter around here too."-

---

The would-be ponytailed bouncer is indeed present the next day, before everyone, as a daytime guest at the bar, when customers were scarce and the venue as vastly empty. You make a decision that morning, after dwelling on it for days and after counting the money in your jar of tips, finding you had enough to comfortably survive the month.; you'd approach him. Say hello. Perhaps, thank him for his effort with the rowdiness around here. You found that guests and the would-be fan, not that you deemed yourself someone who had fans, tended to become oddly pacified and mellow once you'd acknowledge them. Let them know their efforts were welcome. Their donations. Tips. And your jar? It was strangely full as of late. You wondered if you could attribute it to ponytail guy, even though, quite honestly, he seemed like he struggled just as much as you did out here. You cut right to the chase once you find yourself muttering a shy hello, alerting him to your presence after mustering the courage to take the necessary steps and make a move, having him turn his back towards you to look at you. Up close, it felt like he was so big that he needed to move his whole body just to meet your gaze. -"I take it you're a huge fan of Stevie Nicks covers?"- You ask carefully, hoping you being so forward wouldn't bother him. He shoots you a smile, putting down his half finished Sabeco beer bottle. Interesting choice.

-"Nah. Just the past."-

He shakes his hand and his head in equal measure, looking down, appearing momentarily bashful. Such a big guy, taking out loud patrons out back, yet he was bashful. You can't help but feel your cheeks match his disposition with what you figured was the redness of blood rushing into your face, even more so when he chooses to complement you. -"Don't get me wrong, your singing's, well, it's fantastic."- Your breath gets hitched in your throat when he says those words and you instantly want to dissuade him of his opinion, feeling a wave of humbleness wash over you, only to realize you couldn't because he immediately continues talking. -"It's the nostalgia of it."- He explains. -"That and how you're dressed."- He gestures up and down with the tip of his nose. You look down at your floral patterns and the wide, loose fabrics you had on, matching color with color, finding yourself unable not to smile at the guy. First impressions first, was kind of sweet, actually. -"Oh, why thank you! Glad you like it. Very kind. It's part of my gimmick, if you will, but I do enjoy the style on a personal level too. If you play last decade's music, everyone expect you to look the part, a bit."- You do some explaining of your own, getting chatty, finding tips tended to get nicer when you put in the extra effort with an aesthetic fashion front however thrifted, discounted and second-hand it might've been. You found it actually tended to seem even more authentic like that.

-"It's how people dressed when I returned from the war. Brings me back."-

He gives you a tender smile and it catches you off guard --- that, along with his statement. From the war? Oh? A veteran? That added some new context as to why he felt so nostalgic about your performances, not that you were offended or thought any less of his kind words imparted your way. That also explained how he could supposedly subdue several people all by himself out back too. He extends a hand. You stare at it, remarking its size before taking it to shake it and return the gesture of introductions. Well, how tall and large he was certainly helped him in giving a good talking to those guys. -"I'm Terry. Terry Silver, by the way. I live just down the street, at Lankershim and Magnolia. I took up an old friend's dojo there as a teacher."- His expression turns boyish with a certain enthusiasm and it seemed like he was young --- very young. Almost too much so to have been in the military, but what the heck did you know --- maybe it was simply this feeling of lightness he emanated that made him seem like he was really no older than a twenty something, even though he had a name of an older man. Peculiar. -"So, Terry, pleased to meet you."- You say, returning a smile as he lets go of your hand and you swear you feel a static of electricity once your fingers part. Somehow, inexplicably, you get bolder, finding the ability to tease a little. Harmlessly. -"I assume all those anonymous tips in cash ---they're from you, if you don't mind me being forward, neighbor."-

You chuckle at Terry.

He was the only person here, early morning and he was back in the evening, listening to you sing more ardently than anyone else, never separating his eyes from the stage, to the point even the barman noticed. You had a radar for these sort of things by now; if someone gave you all those jar tips, it was definitely him. Artists' intuition and all. And he seemed kind. Not what you expected at all from someone taking out people to throw hands with them outside during working hours. He seemed like he'd place his last dollar down for someone else. He bears his teeth, laughing, his face wrinkling up around his mouth with a sudden bolt of joyfulness. It was weirdly infectious. You laugh with him. -"Oh, yeah! Guilty as charged!"-

-"Wanted to thank you for it. That's very sweet of you. You've no idea how much it means to me."-

You remark, sincerely, truly and genuinely meaning it. You could spot the single vehicle in the parking lot through the window of the venue you figured could belong to nobody else but Terry; the front of it apparently busted and damaged. This guy, he could use the money too, but he choose to give it to you. He deserved you letting him know that the gesture didn't go unnoticed. It did mean a lot to you, yeah. But you figured, that money could've meant just as much to him. Living in LA wasn't cheap. Far from. -"Don't thank me. I'm not a multi-millionaire, but I can appreciate a hard worker and a talent when I see one."- His eyes beam and his words hit you. Then and only then do you notice how blue his eyes were and that they radiated a certain conviction. Like he absolutely meant what he said, uttering the word 'talent' with such distinction, you have to look away, towards the bar's tiles under your feet, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Seen and heard. He...thought you were talented? Well, you wouldn't call yourself anti-talented or anything special or beyond the stage open-mic act at a casual bar, but, the way his voice vibrated the word was.... -"Have you...been getting into confrontations with some of the guests?"- You feel emboldened then, perhaps wanting to quickly change the topic, blurting out the first thing that came to mind as bluntly as you could, having him immediately respond just as bluntly, not hiding a thing. You expected excuses. You get none.

-"Yeah. They were talking over your singing. I didn't appreciate that."-

Terry states, matter-of-factly, standing straight in his grey zipper jacket and blue jeans and you're rendered speechless. You imagined he'd give you a laundry list of reasons why he did it, how he wasn't to blame, start lying, fidget around, get nervous, try every tactic in the book every man at every bar always tries, but no, he was confessing to it. Staring you right in the eyes. Telling you he didn't like them not appreciating your performance. You feel your heart rate accelerate, thumping away in your chest. You manage a tiny chuckle, looking away once again, simply to conceal the fact you were stunned for words, barely even noticing other guests waddle through the front door and take their seat at a table in the corner, approached by a waitress jotting down their respective orders. -"You know, I do Karate."- Terry clarifies, finding your eyes. You felt alone with him, inexplicably. Like there was still nobody here and the bar only just opened. Your newfound friend elaborates, continuing; -"And Karate, it's all about peace and self-defense. There's rules and a code of honor. You don't attack someone unless they attack you first. That sort of thing. But, I think being a jackass like that warrants someone teaching some manners around here."- He gives you a fond look and you nod wordlessly, suddenly shy again, wondering how you mustered up the courage to get to this point in the first place and in equal measure questioning ---- was it possible to fall in love with a stranger after one conversation?

In the wise words of Stevie Nicks, you don't know what it was --- but, whatever it was, it was very powerful.

#terry silver #hippie!reader #hippie!beloved #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #stevie nicks #performer!beloved #80's terry silver #poorsona!terry silver #fluff

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veryberryjelly · 7 months

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𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

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karatekels · 4 months

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TIGmas Day #5 - The Steadfast Tin Soldier

Today's story is for @pinkspidxr, one of my OG readers who I love very much! It's Christmas, it's fluffy, and it's Twig! I hope I do a decent job of getting baby Terry right!

TW: loss of virginity, oral sex (female receiving, very slight male receiving), teasing, graphic sex, Twig *kind of* talking to ghosts (or at least taking their advice)

---

The Steadfast Tin Soldier

---

Terry’s POV:

It never snowed in California.

Still, he couldn’t deny that he’d been hoping for a bit of a miracle as he returned stateside, just before Christmas.

Not that the holidays held many fond memories for him, but he was craving something familiar, bright, American.

He doesn’t want to go home.

A cab finally agrees to take him – the first few drivers cursing at him, calling him a bastard, a rapist, a child murderer, and worse – his heart icing over with the emotionless steel he’d cultivated over the course of its training. It would be useful for something back home, at least.

They ask him for an address and he blurts out yours without thinking – it’s the only one that comes to mind. He’s not even sure if you still live there.

Regardless, he settles in for the long ride, thinking back to the last time he’d seen you…

---

“What the fuck were you thinking, Terrence?!” you hiss at him, fire blazing in your eyes. His lanky frame caves in on itself as you take him to task. He’d been expecting this.

“It’s just something I have to do,” he lies through his teeth, too ashamed to tell you the real reason.

There are a lot of things he’s too ashamed to tell you.

But he needs to get out from under his father’s overbearing expectations and his mother’s coddling; he needs to. Better to jump in the deep end and learn to swim rather than slowly drown.

He knows he’s a coward. And he knows you deserve far better than that.

“What does that even mean, Terry?” you ask, tears filling your eyes. He hates to see you cry. “You have to lie about your age for them to even take you!”

He isn’t too worried about that; he may be built like a beanpole, but he’s sure his height will help him to slip through the cracks.

“They’ll let me serve,” he says with a confidence he doesn’t completely feel. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

“You’re a terrible liar, Terry Silver,” you spit at him, your voice shaking. “How can you do this to me?”

Now, that was interesting. Thoughts of you begging him to stay with you have his heart stuttering in his chest. You were the only thing worth sticking around for; if you kicked up enough of a fuss, threw yourself at his feet and begged for mercy… he supposed he could be persuaded.

“This has nothing to do with you, Y/N,” he insists firmly, inwardly cringing as you recoil as though he’d slapped you. But he can’t help but goad you; too afraid to express his real feelings for you, he settles for eliciting any emotions out of you, by any means necessary, the same way a boy pulled on a girl’s pigtails.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Terry. I thought we were best friends! We’ve always told each other everything, and now you’ve gone off and enlisted without so much as telling me first?”

And oh, how he wishes he could say he’s told you everything…

“I don’t need your permission,” he huffs instead, watching your face crumple for a moment before your temper overwhelms you once more.

“Fine, then I don’t need you. Go on and live out your little soldier fantasy, Terry, but don’t expect me to wait around to see whether you come back in one piece, if you come back at all.”

You slammed the door in his face then, and he listened to your sobs until he could bring himself to get off your porch, his footsteps heavy.

---

“Alright buddy, we’re here,” the cabbie announces, bringing him out of his thoughts. Guilt, pain, and self-loathing all rattle around in the empty hollow that was his chest, as they always did when he reminisced about you. He tosses the driver more than his fare, eyes focused on the soft light emanating from what was hopefully still your bedroom window. Stepping out of the taxi, he throws his pack over a broad shoulder, vaguely aware of the cab’s tires screeching their departure.

The worn soles of his combat boots don’t make a sound as he walks up the path to your front door, eyes scanning every window for a hint of motion as his adrenaline spikes. He clenches a fist tightly and takes a breath, trying to relax and deprogram himself from the instincts he’d been forced to develop; it would do him no good to be paranoid during your reunion.

He’s pictured this moment a thousand different times, a hundred different ways, starting from the moment he left the country. He can’t let himself ruin it now.

He forces his feet forward again, up the steps and onto the porch, a worn welcome mat greeting him just before the door. He sets down his pack, his feet precisely in the centre of the mat, and knocks firmly.

There is some vague shuffling around from the other side of the door that he can hear, and he briefly considers that even if you do still live here and didn’t still hate his guts, you may not be here alone. A wave of jealousy, hot and vicious, washes over him until he’s seeing red, and he braces himself for a fight against whoever opens the door.

A curtain flutters off to the side, the person flitting away before he gets a good look at them, but then the door opens and you stand before him, a worn housecoat wrapped tightly around your slender frame, and his anger dissipates, his gaze softening. You look different, the years of early adulthood firmly settled into your features, but he finds that you just look right.

You inhale deeply, your face flickering a dozen different emotions until you finally bring yourself to break the silence.

“Terry.”

---

Reader’s POV:

At first, you think you’re seeing a ghost – your very own Jacob Marley haunting you into learning some profound life lesson. Never leave anything unsaid, or Don’t let pride blind you.

Terry Silver, decked out in military fatigues and probably thirty pounds worth of muscle, delivered to your doorstep on Christmas Eve.

Your throat constricts, overwhelmed by the joy-relief-guilt-anger-pain-sadness of seeing him again.

“Terry,” you croak, finding it difficult to breathe, and then you’re throwing yourself at him, jumping up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hair is so long now, tied back in a ponytail that stands in stark contrast to the traditional, clean-cut hairstyle you’d grown accustomed to during your decade of friendship. He braces himself to take your weight, his arms taking an extra moment to slowly wrap around you, returning the hug.

“Y/N,” you hear him breathe your name into your hair as he sets you on your feet, though he keeps you in an embrace. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but eventually you force yourself to release him, looking up into his pretty blue eyes. His features are harder now then they were before he’d left, but he seemed healthy and whole physically from what you’ve been able to tell.

“When did you get back?” you half-ask, half-demand, despite knowing you’re in no position to have a say in his life. No, he’d made that perfectly clear the last time you’d spoken…

“I landed a couple hours ago.”

You blink. “What are you doing here?!”

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You swallow heavily. You knew that Terry didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, but to not want to see them after years of being in a War… as someone who’d lost their own parents as a teenager, it was hard for you to imagine not needing to throw yourself at them after going to hell and back.

“Well, come in then,” you invite him awkwardly, stepping to the side to allow him through the door into your small home. It wasn’t much, but you’d made do with the small sum you’d had left over from your parents’ inheritance after settling their medical bills coupled with your small but survivable salary. Terry lifts his rucksack, throwing it over a broad shoulder and stepping into your home, placing it by the door and bending to remove his boots. You look down at your own slippered feet, debating changing out of your pyjamas but decide against it.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you offer, trying to push past your own discomfort to play hostess. “I don’t know what your liquor of preference is, but I should have something you like.”

“You drink now?” he asks, surprised, and you give him a wry grin.

“We’re adults now, Terry; my tastes have changed.”

You’d been just shy of seventeen when he’d left, and had always been something of a goody two shoes; underage drinking hadn’t been your style before he’d left.

But then he had left, and on the one-year anniversary of his departure, having heard nothing from him, that had changed…

---

“Will you please stop moping around, Y/N? This is a party!” your friend pouts, trying to pull you up from the table in the corner where you’re sat with a drink for company. You’re not sure what your tolerance for alcohol is but this is your third Harvey Wallbanger, the orange juice helping the vodka go down easy, and you’re now in a comfortably numb, floaty space.

“I’m not moping,” you deny with a scowl. “You know I’m not a party person, and you dragged me here anyway.”

“I dragged you here because there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Roberta insists, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bending down to talk in your ear. “He is very cute, very single and very interested.”

“That makes one of us,” you joke, lightly elbowing her in the side. Roberta sighs, sitting on the edge of the table to stare you down.

“Y/N, it’s been a year since Terry left. I know that you miss him, and that you’re hurt, but you told him yourself that you wouldn’t wait around for him.”

“I’m not waiting around for him,” you snap, grumbling at the insinuation. “I just don’t want to be with anyone right now.”

“But Y/N, don’t you think –”

“No!” you interrupt angrily, standing up from the table. “I don’t want to get to know someone else, anyone else. I just want to be alone.”

You gulp down the rest of your drink, grabbing your bag and leaving the party without another word, crying to yourself the whole walk home.

---

That night was your first time getting drunk, and you’d turned to the bottle on many occasions over the past few years when your grief and loneliness got to be too much. It’s not something you’re particularly proud of, but it is something that you’ve managed to get under control. No one was worth grieving over like that, not even Terry Silver.

Turning back to him, you catch him looking at you with a confused, slightly frustrated expression before he meets your eye.

“Any tea?” he asks hesitantly and you nod in response, busying yourself with the kettle. You grab two teacups, part of a set gifted to you by him from a birthday during your school days, and set them of a tray along with milk and sugar, bringing them over to the coffee table in front of him.

“How long have you had the ponytail?” you ask casually, trying to make conversation as you head back into the kitchen to fill the teapot and bring it over. Terry takes a long time to respond, and when you turn back to him you see that he’s tense on the couch, his jaw clenched.

“Almost a year now,” he finally answers in a hoarse voice through gritted teeth. You busy yourself fixing his tea, hoping he still takes it the same way; Terry had never been good with speaking his emotions before the war, and you doubt that his time in Vietnam cured him of that habit.

“I grew it out in honour of a friend,” he continues, not looking at you as he accepts the proffered cup, and you bite your lip as an expression of absolute anguish crosses his features. You don’t know what to say to him, or what not to say…

“I don’t know how to do this, Terry,” you confess to him, frustrated by the discomfort you feel. Speaking with him had been easier than breathing for so long, and the difficulty it’s giving now makes your heart ache. He looks up at you blankly.

“Do what?”

“I don’t know, talk to you. It used to be so easy, and now I’m not sure what to focus on and what to avoid. I’m sorry,” you apologize with a grimace, feeling terribly awkward. He had come here, come to you, immediately after coming home, and you imagine he now regrets his decision after seeing how horribly you’re handling his return.

His large hand comes down on your shoulder, squeezing it gently, the way he used to comfort you when you were anxious or stressed, and you take a deep breath, looking up at him gratefully.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m not exactly sure how to do this myself. You’re doing fine,” he coos, his thumb stroking your shoulder. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt as relaxed as you do now, under his soothing touch. You climb onto the couch beside him, still tucked under his arm.

“Thanks. Is there anything you want to talk about?” you ask, hoping to avoid anymore sensitive topics.

“Did you ever think about me?” he asks immediately, and you turn to the side to face him so quickly his arm slips off your shoulders.

“What?” you ask in disbelief. He cocks his head to the side and gives you a calculating look, like he’s trying to read your mind.

“While I was gone. Did you ever think about me, or miss me or anything?”

He seems genuine, but it’s such a ridiculous, inane question that it sparks your short temper.

“What kind of question is that?!” you hiss, glaring at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, shoving him away from you, trying to ignore how muscled his chest feels under your fingers.

“Of course I missed you, you dolt!” you shriek, angry tears filling your eyes. “Of course I thought about you, every fucking day, from the moment you told me you were leaving! How can you even ask me that, Terry?!”

You can’t catch your breath through your sobs, as much as you want to continue yelling at him; you always ended up crying this way when you cried for Terry, and everything you’d lost when he’d left you alone.

Terry slides off the couch onto his knees, carelessly shoving away the coffee table to make space for him as he kneels in front of you, looking distressed as he watches you wrap your arms around yourself tightly like you were trying to squeeze yourself shut, trapping your pain inside of you.

“Sweetheart, shhh,” Terry pleas, trying to replace your hands with his own as he moves to console you. You fight to get your breathless under control, your sobs eventually quieting to stuttering whimpers.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmurs, running his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “I didn’t think I was leaving you alone. I thought your other friends –”

“If you think that any number of friends could fill in the void you left in my life, you overgrown giraffe, then you’re an even bigger idiot that I thought,” you interrupt him with a huff, your arms now crossed defensively across your chest as you scowl down at him.

He takes your change in mood as a good sign, and continues.

“I thought everyone else would take care of you; if I hadn’t believed that, I never would have left,” he speaks firmly, his gaze locked with yours, and you believe him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he confesses, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear; it feels like such a natural gesture coming from him. “I wrote dozens of letters to you, but I never sent them because I was scared that you hated me, and I didn’t want to upset you more than I already had.”

His blue eyes are piercing as they look up at you unblinkingly, and you feel overwhelmed by the conviction that you hear in his voice.

“I went to war to become less of a coward, Y/N,” he admits, looking at the ground with his brow furrowed. “I wanted so badly to become someone that you deserved. But I failed. I’m still a coward, and even if I wasn’t I know I’m too late.”

You can see the tension in his shoulders as he sits in silence, his words lingering in the air between you.

“Too late for what?” you ask in a whisper, unable to bring yourself to speak any louder.

“I know I’ve probably missed my chance to be with you, but –”

“I’m not with anybody, Terrance,” you inform him curtly, your heart pounding so hard you worry it’s going to burst from your chest. Terry wanted to be with you?

He finally brings himself to look back up at you, his eyes flickering as he tries to determine your honesty. You decide to reassure him.

“I’m not with anyone. I’ve never been with anyone,” you admit, sincerely hoping that he felt the same way as you did and that this confession wasn’t going to blow up in your face.

“I promised myself I wasn’t waiting around for you, I said I wouldn’t and I meant it, but no one made me feel anything close to what you did. Nobody could get through to me.”

Terry’s face lights up with hope and euphoria, and it seems to take the last few years of pain and suffering away from his features. He climbs back onto the couch next to you, giving you the same slightly-shy smile he’d always given you. He looks like the Terry you remember, the Terry you love.

The Terry that casually broke your heart one day, leaving you without a second thought to spend years worrying about his safety. As much as you adore him, you can’t let yourself forget that reality.

“I wanted it to be you. I still want it to be you, Terry, but how can I know if I can trust you? You left me,” you accuse, moving off of the couch to the armchair next to it. He hurt you, and you can’t let yourself be swept away by his presence the way you normally did. Terry’s eyes are sad as he watches you move away from him, but he grants you the space.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmurs brokenly, his eyes trained on the carpet by your feet. “I’ll never forgive myself for it, as long as I live. I’ll do whatever it takes to get your trust back. Please just give me a chance,” he begs, getting down on his knees before you once again. You’re not proud of the thrill that runs through you at his supplication, something in your belly clenching with desire.

“Ask me anything, sweetheart, and I’ll answer, no matter how hard it is. I promise, I’ll tell you the truth about everything.”

You curl your legs up onto the couch and away from him, wrapping your arms around them as you look down at him. What questions could you possibly ask that could repair the damage done to your friendship?

“Did you have to kill people?” you ask in a hoarse whisper, feeling guilty as the question appears to cause him physical pain.

“Yes.”

“A lot of people?”

“Yes.”

You can’t blame him for his short responses. And, at least he’s being honest.

“Did they at least… I don’t know, deserve it?” you ask, though you’re not sure how you could possibly determine whether or not anyone deserved to die.

“Some. Most of them didn’t.” Terry’s eyes are shut tightly, like his body is trying to block out the question, or maybe the memories that it evokes.

Alright, you’d tortured him enough with this line of questioning. Reaching down, you lay one hand on his arm, and he opens his eyes to look at you, his expression gaunt.

“How are you, Terry? Physically, you don’t seem to have any lasting damage, but…” you trail off, biting your lip. He gives you a sad smile.

“I’m doing the best I can; I’m sure it’ll get better with time,” he assures, almost nonchalantly shrugging off his trauma. “Physically I’m fine, just still a bit malnourished.”

“Malnourished? You look like you’ve doubled in size since I saw you last, at least!” you tease, hoping he’s not offended. Fortunately, he cracks a smile that becomes an outright smug grin, and bats his eyelashes up at you.

“At least,” he echoes your words, sitting up straight. “Wanna see for yourself?” he leers, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. You squeak, blushing furiously, though you’re burning with curiosity and something decidedly less innocent.

“Knock it off, Terry!” you warn him with a giggle, burying your face in your knees. He chuckles softly at your reaction, the sound sending shivers up and down your spine. Eventually, you peer over the tops of your knees down at him, unsure if you really want to know the answer to your next question.

“You’re very different from the shy boy that would blush when he so much as accidentally brushed up against me,” you point out with a raised eyebrow, hoping you’re playing it casual. “Have you been with anyone?”

There is a prolonged silence, and you brace yourself for the worst.

“Almost, but no,” he admits, his hand going to the end of his ponytail and giving it a tug absent-mindedly.

“What does that mean?” you ask, feeling unsettled by his reaction to the question.

“Some of the guys in the unit got on me about being a virgin, tried to get me to give it up to a hooker,” he admits, a blush blooming across his fair skin. Your Terry was still buried somewhere inside this new, bulky frame.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask. While you’re glad that he didn’t, you know that Terry has historically been susceptible to peer pressure, especially by older men.

“Johnny,” he breathed, the name escaping from his lips with absolute reverence. He looks up at you, devotion shining in his eyes as he speaks of this other man. “Captain John Kreese. I owe him my life; I owe him everything.”

“What’d he do?” you ask, glad that Terry may have found a male role model worth looking up to.

“I… I had told him about you,” he admits, looking sheepish. “He caught me writing letters to you, told me to burn them if I wasn’t going to man up and send them to you so that no one would find out and give me a hard time. He had a girl back home, Betsy, they were going to get married…”

“And he died? How awful,” you reply, your heart going out to the couple.

“No,” Terry said tonelessly. “She did. Car accident.”

“Oh, Terry…” you murmur, your hand coming down to stroke his arm comfortingly. Terry leans against your chair and into the gesture.

“But we didn’t find out until after this. When he found the guys trying to push me into a brothel, he told them to leave off and they did. Everyone listened to John. And then he told me that it was worth waiting for the right girl, so I did.”

Your heart skips a few beats at the explanation, and Terry uses your silence to stand up on his knees, gently pulling your feet down in front of you so that you aren’t hiding behind them. You’re nearly at the same height now, and he leans forward to stare deeply into your eyes.

“I wanted it to be you too, Y/N. I always have.”

He slowly closes the distance between you, giving you plenty of time to refuse or move away, his eyes locked onto your face as though he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, if he so much as blinked, you would disappear. One large hand comes up, his knuckles lightly brushing the side of your face, and you let out a content sigh.

The kiss is chaste and sweet but still sends your heart thrumming, your lips trying to chase after him when he finally lets you up for air. He takes your cheek in hand once more, his gaze not leaving yours as he reaches down to your hand, interlacing your fingers with his own.

“I love you, Y/N, and I’ll do anything and everything to be with you. I’ve waited this long, and I’m happy to keep waiting until I’ve earned your trust back.”

“Terry Silver, I’ve spent years worrying that I’d never see you again. Even before that, I didn’t think I’d ever get to be with you. I love you, and I’m not letting you go. We’ve both waited long enough.”

Terry’s smile grows with your words, framed by his adorable dimples, making a pleased noise in the back of his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, sliding yourself closer to him. Impatiently, you tug his head towards yours once more, kissing him deeply, every brush of his lips against yours making your heart sing. You feel him gasp into your mouth as your tongue traces his lower lip teasingly, his hands moving to your hips and squeezing them firmly. He lifts you out of the chair and to your feet, further emphasizing how strong he’s become in the past few years, and you reluctantly break apart, the difference in height frustrating you. You can think of one way to mitigate the issue…

“Do you remember the way to my bedroom?” you ask coyly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He gives you a slightly wicked grin in response before sweeping you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bedroom door and kicking it open. Apparently not wanting to be too presumptuous, he sits on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, and resumes his task of kissing you breathless.

It’s everything you’d been imagining since you were twelve years old, and more. So, so much more…

Being wrapped in his strong arms like this makes you feel the same bone-deep sense of comfort and safety that Terry always made you feel, but tenfold. He could keep you in his lap like this forever and you’d consider yourself more than grateful, but you also desperately need to touch-see-taste-feel more of him.

You squirm, getting him to loosen his grip, and when he does you throw a leg across him, straddling him and pressing yourself against his chest. His grip tightens in response, his hands low on your hips. Gathering your courage, you trail your hands down his chest to the hem of his shirt, your fingers disappearing beneath the fabric. As you explore the contours of his abs he hisses into your mouth, sliding back on the bed and taking you with him. You push him to lay down, hands pushing his shirt up as your eyes greedily drink in his chiseled abs.

“Like what you see, Dollface?” Terry leers up at you, giving you a wink. You huff in response, sitting back on his thighs and crossing your arms as you turn your head to the side. This gives him the element of surprise as he grabs you by the waist, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and leaning over you.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I like what I see; I have from the minute I first laid eyes on you,” he murmurs, eyes warm with affection and underlying desire. He pulls his shirt off over his head, muscles on full display, and while you’ve been in love with Terry for the better part of a decade, when you were both scrawny kids, you can’t deny that the way he looks now, and the confidence it’s given him, has your body humming with need. You look back to his face with hooded eyes, reaching up to pull him down to kiss him, teasing his tongue with your own. Eventually, he sits up, looking down at you in a way that has you squirming. His eyes could be so intimidating sometimes, and now the rest of him matched.

Idly, he toys with the belt of your housecoat, the fabric tied in a bow at your waist.

“You’re wrapped up like a present for me,” he teases in a low voice, making you blush. “It’s not quite Christmas yet, but maybe I can unwrap mine early?”

You giggle, turning to bury your head into your pillow to hide your face. “You’re an idiot, Terry Silver,” you inform him, your voice muffled, but your gasp comes through loud and clear as he takes advantage of your position and starts kissing your neck. “Terry!” you moan, feeling dizzy as his lips and tongue claim every inch of sensitive skin they can find. Terry lets out a growl against the front of your throat at the sound of you moaning his name.

“Do I get to open my present or not, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your skin, pulling back to look at you with his stunning, glittering eyes.

“Yes!” you groan in exasperation, throwing an arm over your eyes. You feel him slowly pulling at the frayed ends of the strip of fabric, and shyly peek out from under your arm, wanting to witness this. The knot comes loose, and you feel his hands shake slightly as he pushes the robe to either side of you, revealing thin dark blue pyjama pants and a baby blue tank top. He licks his lips, and as you follow his gaze you see that your nipples are hard and very prominent through the lightweight fabric.

“Please,” you cry out in need when he makes no move to, well, ravish you.

“Terry, please! You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass. I want you, I need you, please touch me!”

He hums in approval at the sound of you begging, his thumbs rubbing your hip bones in small circles, savouring the soft skin visible between the hem of your shirt and your waistband.

“I know you’re not made of glass, beautiful. I just want to savour you, take you in just like this before I worship you the way I’ve been dreaming of.”

He lowers his head to taste your again, his lips exploring your now-exposed shoulders and collarbone, and you clutch his head to you, pulling him closer still. He lets out a sinful chuckle, a far departure from the shy, self-conscious boy you were used to, and the vibrations of his lips make you arch up against him with a needy whine.

Lips never faltering, he blindly snatches up your wrists, pinning them again the mattress to either side of your head. He slowly explores every inch of bare skin, his hot, wet tongue following the featherlight touches of his fingertips as he traces patterns from the sensitive underside of your wrists up your arms to your breastbone, sliding down your body to lay kisses on your stomach where your shirt has ridden up, his tongue swirling around your bellybutton and making you shriek.

“God, I love the sounds you make for me,” Terry groans, laying kisses straight up the middle of your chest over your clothes, intentionally avoiding your breasts. The devious smirk he gives you afterwards lets you know that he knows exactly how much he’s tormenting you.

“Will you let me up so that I can have a turn?” you ask grumpily, fed up with the teasing. Or, at least, how one-sided it was.

“No,” he says mockingly, clearly enjoying antagonizing you. “But I will reward your patience…”

Terry’s POV:

Ponytail’s lewd advice over the years came to the forefront of his mind the moment he laid you out on your bed, and Terry decides he’ll borrow more than just a hairstyle from the older man. He can practically see Ponytail in the corner of his eye, leering at the pair of you as Terry put his lessons to practice. Based on the way you were responding, it was apparent that the guy hadn’t been all talk, at least before…

He latches onto your breast, his saliva darkening the fabric of your top, focusing on you instead of dwelling on the past. Your whispered pleas come even faster now, as his other hand slides up your body to tease your other nipple, the sensation nearly overwhelming him. He can’t believe he’s finally here, finally doing this, and with you of all people.

He hadn’t lied to you before; it really had always been you in his mind, in his heart, in his soul…

He forces himself to continue to go slow, carefully keeping his erection from brushing up against you. He’s already so close, and he hasn’t even gotten you out of your clothes yet. He’s waited long enough for this, and so have you; he needs it to be perfect.

He slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt once more, pausing in his ministrations to look you in the eye.

“Can I unwrap the rest of my present, doll?” he leers, burning the way you blush into his memory forever. You bite your lip, staring up at him with wide, needy eyes, and you’ve never looked more beautiful. You nod wordlessly, and sit up as he pulls your pyjamas over your head, tossing the top to the side.

He stands corrected, taking in your bare breasts, the curve of your waist, the way your blush continues down your neck to the top of your chest. You’ve never looked more beautiful than right now.

Your breath comes hard and fast under the weight of his stare, nearly panting with desire.

Take it slow, Twig. Make her beg you for it. Ponytail’s voice echoes in his head, and he lunges forward, pinning you back against the mattress, claiming your lips again as he brings his fingers up to play with your nipples, only pausing in his attack to knead and squeeze your breasts, cataloguing your responses to his every action as you writhe underneath him, whining into his mouth.

“Terry, you’re driving me crazy!” you manage to tell him between kisses, your chest now covered with love bites that give him a primal sense of satisfaction and ownership.

“Good,” he coos, finding it easy to be dominant in this arena. Watching you come apart for him has given him such a heady sense of control, he thinks he could happily do it forever.

Maybe he will.

Your hand, which had formerly been obediently laying down by your side, runs across his thigh to his cock, squeezing it experimentally over his pants, and his restraint all but disappears as his hips reflexively buck into your palm. You bat your eyelashes at him with mock innocence, and he snarls, reaching down and yanking your pants and underwear down your legs in one quick motion, making you yelp and press your thighs tightly together. Oh, now you were shy?

Reining himself back in before he forces your knees apart, he slows down once more, running his hands from your ankles to the tops of your thighs, relishing the feeling of your soft skin and the way that your muscles jump beneath his fingers.

“You’re so damn pretty,” he whispers, his awe carrying over into his tone. “My dream girl…”

He buries his face between your breasts, switching between them to ensure they both receive equal treatment from his lips and tongue. It isn’t long before you relax the lower half of your body, your legs moving to either side of him to wrap around his waist as your arms mirror the movement, locking themselves around his neck as you cling to him, trying to pull him closer. Terry thinks he’d happily let you pull him closer until he disappeared inside of you; his cock twitches at the thought.

“What is it, love?” he teases, though his tongue tingles around the pet name. “What do you need?”

You give him a glare, though its effect is weakened by the fact that you are practically vibrating in his arms.

“Stop teasing me, you big dumb jerk!” you complain, even as you roll your hips up against him. He bites the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the burning hot arousal that jolts through his body at the sensation of your soaking centre rubbing against him, even through his clothes.

“Well, that was just plain hurtful,” he says with false sadness. “Maybe I’ll just go…” he trails off, peeling you off him and keep his eyes on the sheets as he makes to move off the bed. You launch yourself at him, taking him by surprise as you knock him back onto the bed, straddling him with a pout.

This time, he knows that you feel his cock twitch against you.

“You’re not going anywhere, Terry Silver,” you say imperiously, even as you bend down to kiss his chest, your tongue boldly and thoroughly exploring his torso. He hisses, and feels you smirk against his skin. “I just got you back, and you’re not going anywhere, especially not before you finish what you started.”

He nimbly rolls you onto your back, hooking one leg around his hip, his hand stroking the inner thigh of your other leg and making your breathing come heavier once again.

“Is that what you want, Y/N?” he asks, cracking a wicked grin. “For me to help you finish?”

Instead of telling him off, or stubbornly refusing to say anything, you look up at him demurely.

“Yes,” you tell him bluntly, staring up at him unflinchingly. “Make me come, Terry, make me yours!”

He growls and slides down your body again, forcing your knees apart – not that they need any forcing. He takes in the sight of your wet, pink pussy, and it briefly makes his brain short-circuit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, before throwing caution to the wind and burying his face between your legs, eating you out like you’re his last meal on earth. You literally mewl as he latches onto your clit, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, your grip on his head stinging deliciously as you tug at his locks. You try to grind yourself against his face, but he holds your hips down firmly; all of the pleasure you felt tonight would be because of him.

His tongue probes your entrance next, your walls tight but inviting, and he brings a hand up to assist, one of his fingers continuing to tease your clit. He hears you moan his name, and he moans yours right back, the vibrations adding to your pleasure until your soft inner thighs are quaking.

“Terry!” you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head, but he is relentless in his pursuit, knowing that you’re close. “Oh God, Terry!”

“That’s it, my sweet girl,” he purrs approvingly, stretching you out with a finger joining his tongue. “Come for me, Y/N, let me taste how much you want me.”

He dives back in, adding a second finger, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles that you mirror with your hips. Secretly, he writes his name on your centre with his tongue, claiming you as his, and with one final swipe at your clit you’re coming apart for him, screaming his name in ecstasy as your thighs tighten their grip even further, the pressure a testament to how hard you’re coming.

“Fuck!” you groan between stuttering, whiny breaths. “Fuck…”

He patiently waits for you to catch your breath, content to be trapped between your legs, laying kisses all over your inner thighs and breathing you in. Eventually, your legs collapse bonelessly to either side of him, releasing him, and he crawls up your body, his cock aching from being pressed against the seam of his pants. Still slightly dazed, you look up at him with a shy smile that makes his heart skip a beat. Still so innocent, even after all that…

“Does this mean it’s finally my turn?” you ask, brazenly reaching for his belt. Kneeling next to your head, he allows you to remove his belt, pulling his zipper down and tugging his pants down to reveal his tented trousers. You let out a whimper of desire, though he also detects a note of anxiety. You have nothing to worry about, sweet thing; he’ll never let anything bad happen to you.

Not on his watch.

You gather your nerve, pulling his underwear down to free his cock, and he swiftly divests himself of the clothing kicking them off and to the floor, his erection bobbing with the movement. Your eyes follow it as though hypnotized, and he finds himself staring at you with a downright hungry expression. Mine, a possessive voice growls in his mind as he watches you stare, awestruck at his member.

Slowly, like you were scared of scaring it away, you move your head towards it, your tongue peeking out from between your swollen, pouty lips to lick the precum off of his tip.

He nearly blows his load then and there.

Instead, he climbs on top of you, spreading your legs to either side of him.

“Ter-ry!” you whine, pouting up at him. “I thought it was my turn!”

He bends down, silencing your complaints with a kiss until you’re laying pliant against the sheets.

“I won’t last long if you do that now, love,” he admits, trying not to be embarrassed or ashamed. “The first time I come, I want it to be inside you.”

Your expression softens at his words, and you pull him down for another sweet kiss. He reaches between your bodies, getting his fingers slick with your juices and stroking himself, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. You break apart, but his forehead stays rested on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“I’ll be gentle, I’ll go slow,” he vows, the promise as much to himself as it is to you. He would have control; he would not hurt you.

“I trust you, Terry,” you tell him earnestly, and the words mean more to him than he can possibly express.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathes, slowly sliding himself inside of you until he feels himself come up to your hymen. You tense up slightly at the intrusion, or perhaps at what’s to come, but you nod at him to continue, responding to the question reflected in his eyes.

“Don’t draw it out – just do it quick, and then it’s over,” you ask quietly, shutting your eyes tightly. That won’t do.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he requests, and your eyes flutter open. He doesn’t hesitate, thrusting himself past your barrier and fully into you, watching the pain cross your features with a perverse sense of satisfaction before he immediately moves to soothe, stilling his hips as he peppers your face with kisses, cooing sweet nothing and words of encouragement and running his hands comfortably up and down your body.

The distraction is appreciated; it gives him something to focus on other than how incredible your cunt feels wrapped around his throbbing member.

“Just relax, Y/N,” he coaxes, feeling you tighten around him when he says your name. He wants to spend eternity figuring out all the ways to make your body respond to him…

You nod up at him, your body’s grip on him loosening just enough for him to pull out slightly before smoothly thrusting back inside, hearing your breath escape you with a moan. He stills again, not wanting to push his luck, but you have other plans, rocking your hips up towards him, your legs tightening their grip around his waist.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him quietly. “I can handle it, I promise.”

“I’m not hurting you?” he asks doubtfully, taking in the tears at the corners of your eyes.

“I like it,” you admit to him bashfully, and he can tell by your embarrassment that you mean it. He groans at this confession, feeling his self-control slipping away, and he lets it, deciding to just be in the moment with you. Burying his face in your neck, he slides his hands around to your butt, kneading the plump flesh as he holds you up, his hips setting a slow pace, savouring the delicious friction of moving inside you. You let out a wanton moan of approval, breathless pleas escaping your lips as you run your fingers through his hair.

Your cries are music to his ears, his own need for release growing with every thrust, every noise you make spurring him on.

“Terry,” you whimper his name, trying to meet his hips thrust-for-thrust, eventually settling for just hanging on, begging for more as he chases his orgasm, rutting against you and making your toes curl. “Come for me – Let go for me, love!” you moan in his ear, and he finally does, feeling your pussy tighten around him and milk him of every drop.

It isn’t until after he’s caught his breath that he realizes his still whispering your name like a mantra. Forcing himself to pull out of you, no matter how much he wants to stay buried in your tight heat, he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him and securely wrapping you both in the blankets. You nestle into him, fitting quite naturally against his side just as he always knew you would.

“You’ll stay?” you ask hopefully in a tired voice. It was now well after midnight, and you had already been dressed for bed when he’d shown up.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Always, Terry.”

He kisses the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He can’t remember the last time he felt tired, relaxed enough to sleep deeply for any length of time, but he senses it won’t be a problem tonight.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he murmurs, recalling your fondness for the holiday as children. Maybe that was why he’d been so attached to it, despite having few personal memories about it himself.

“Merry Christmas, Terry,” you reply sleepily, kissing the pectoral that you’re using as a pillow as you drift off.

He’ll count this as a Christmas miracle.

---

Just look at this cute little fucker in his little bucket hat, thinking about his own girl back home 💕

#Thomas Ian Griffith #Terry Silver #Terry Silver x Reader #Cobra Kai #TIGmas #12 Days of TIGmas #Smut #kk3 #karate kid #the karate kid 3 #twig #twig!terry silver #fluff #Nick Marini

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dungeonpuppykai · 1 month

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send me prompts/requests <3

with the exception of scat and pedophilia, it can be pretty much anything <3

a brand new scenario, a continuation of one of my pieces, anything <3

feeling brave <3

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girlblogger666 · 2 years

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Vacation with Terry Silver 🤍

I love Terry soooooo enjoy ✨ also divided this into the different eras of Terry 🥵🐱✨

In general, most of the time vacation with Terry……..is not a vacation unless it’s a luxurious one. Terry would want to make sure that you’re only getting the best from the best. Money is no expense, anywhere you want to go, he’ll make sure you go there, but also get the best experience out of it. Hell, you could literally point to anyplace on a map and he would have no problem with that. Only the best for you!

I think older Terry and you would decide to go someplace relaxing, preferably a beach, but only one of the nicest beaches in the world of course. Lying in a private section of the beach that Terry exclusively made sure to have booked off for the two of you, you’d find exquisite amounts of pleasure from the feeling that is literally soaking up your time in the sun with him. For Terry, the sight of you in your bikini/beachwear makes him realize how lucky he is to have someone so precious like you…..and turns him on and since no one else is there, you two can do whatever you want ;)

80s Terry on the other hand, may not have all the time in the world unfortunately. As much as he prioritizes you, he still has a business to run—dynatox is very occupying as it is annoying to the hostile Terry. Thus, perhaps a weekend away in a city is the route hed chose in order to satisfy your needs and make up for time lost during the days he’s at work. Flying privately in his jet, things already take a turn for the best when your favourite choice of wine is served along with Terry telling you that the both of you are going to be spending a weekend at the finest hotel in ~insert city~ However, what you don’t know is that upon your arrival to the suite he booked, roses have been sprawled in the room to form the shape of a heart on the king sized bed and in the middle is a bottle of champagne along with various gifts Terry ordered to be placed. “Hope this can make you forgive me for my absence, my love,” he’d smirk at you, already popping open the champagne.

Twig. Our precious little angel, he’d be so shy and worked up just to ask you, his very significant other, to spend some time away with him. Though at his young age and with all of daddy’s money flowing out of his pocket, hes compassionate and humble, he knows he’s already got you and there’s no need to be spending ridiculous amounts of money to flaunt in hopes of trying to impress you. Instead, he picks you up in a convertible and opts for the very romantic idea of a little road trip in California. He’s seen it all really, traveling with his parents while they’d attend board meetings was how he got to experience different places, but the one place he never really explored was the state he was born and raised in. He could always do it on his own, but now that he has someone who he loves deeply, he’d rather share the moment with you. Driving down the highway, he’d stop and glance for a second to see how beautiful you look with the wind rustling your hair and when the two of you are asleep in some rusty motel because you really don’t want to sleep in terrys car, he cuddles you close and whispers in your ear “I love you.”

LOL this is short n I’m sad but I hope u guys enjoy 🤍

#cobra kai #kk3 #karate kid #terry silver x reader #terry silver #thomas ian griffith #twig cobra kai #nick marini

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buttermykolchek · 2 years

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Scouts honor. Part 1

[J. Kolchek x Fem! Reader]

This is my first try writing a fic, let me know what you think!

Italics means thoughts/flashbacks

Tw: blood, violence, swearing, cringe (probably)

Tags: @kassiekolchek22

Iraq, 2003.

Camp slayer 0800 hours.

Your tan combat boots hit the floor in a rhythm as you made your way to Rachel’s office. You had just received word that Colonel Eric King was assigned to lead the team. Rachel’s team. You’d known about their previous relationship and you knew it was extremely complicated. As Rachel’s best friend, you’d gotten caught in the crossfire several times. What I fucking headache. She’s going to loose her shit ice she hears about this. You took a deep breath before knocking firmly on her office door, clutching the paperwork in your left hand. You were standing with your hands behind your back. Your long (y/h/c) locks were pulled into a tight bun, you had on a dark green tshirt, which was tucked into your uniform pants, which were tucked into your combat boots. the typical uncomfortable marine uniform crap.

You heard a bit of shuffling around and giggling before rachel answered the door, stepping aside so nick could leave the room. her hair was messy, and nicks hat was clearly crooked. What the hell? Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw a fresh hickey on his neck. Nick nodded at you and kept on down the hall, and Rachel sighed at the look on your face. “It’s not what it looks like, y/l/n.” She almost whispered as you stepped inside, You waited until she closed the door to have a mini freak out. “Not what it looks like?! Rach! Are you serious right now? He’s your subordinate!” You we’re whisper yelling. Praying nobody like merwin or Joey were walking by, they’d definitely make a big stink out of this.

She sighed and leaned on her desk, biting her thumb nail. “I know..” she mumbled, looking at the floor. “I just, I don’t know.. With all the bullshit with Eric I think I just wanted to feel something else, you know?” You looked at her with raised eyebrows, your hands on your hips. “No Rachel, I don’t ‘know’.” You said, using your fingers as quotation marks. “Please, enlighten me. Tell me. How do you think Eric is going to react when he gets here?!”

Your breath caught in your throat as Rachel’s head snapped to your direction. “Excuse me?” She stood, raising her voice a little. You ran a hand down your face in stress. “He’s going to be here within the hour. Christ, rach.” You groaned, pacing around the room. She was already fixing her hair in a hurry. “Straighten up, don’t say a fucking word about any of this, I mean it. We’ve got enough bullshit floating around this camp. The last thing anybody needs is your and nicks affair getting out and about.” You pointed a finger at her, before turning and leaving the room. Slamming the door shut. She may have been your superior, but she knew you were right. You had every reason to be mad. Nicks your best friend, you don’t want his heart getting broken, nor do you want either of them to be reprimanded if word got out.

You walked very hurriedly to your shared bunk room with nick and Jason. The tips of your ears were red with anger. You threw the door open, quickly slamming it shut behind you the second you were through. The first person you saw was nick. Perfect. “Hey scout” nick flashed a soft smile, he was lacing up his boots, sitting on the edge of his bunk bed. “Just the guy I wanted to see” you said through gritted teeth. Smacking him on the back of his head. “Ow! What the hell y/n!” He shouted. Rubbing his head “what the hell were you thinking? Nick, her husband is going to be our new CO. If he finds out, your ass is grass.” You sighed. “And I’ve heard he’s a real dickbag. So, lucky you.” By now You we’re pacing again. Chewing on your bottom lip, not looking at nick. “I’m sorry, y/n. You gotta understand, after the checkpoint-“ he shook his head. Looking at the floor.

You looked over at him, softening your eyes and moving to sit next to him. You, nick and Jason had just been involved in a shooting a few weeks back. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to think about the blood. “I get it.. I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Rubbing his back. Before you could say anything else, the door had swung open. It was Jason, he looked almost.. scared? “Guys, pull your shit together and get out here. Our new CO just landed” he panted, before running off down the hall. You giggled a little at how discombobulated he seemed. Jason always had his shit together, but apparently not today. You and nick shared a soft smile before standing up, heading out the door and towards the briefing room.

Briefing room, 0830 hours.

You were leaning against a desk, listening to colonel king give his presentation. Nick and Jason were on either side of you, listening close. Your eyes were trained on the floor tiles, arms crossed, not really paying attention too much. You were nervous about this mission, maybe even more nervous that Jason’s arm kept brushing against yours. ‘Stop it, he’s your boss, idiot’ you thought to yourself. Jason’s always been your best friend alongside Nick, but lately you’ve been getting mixed signals from him. One day he’d treat you like one of the guys, punching your arm and talking about guy stuff. Then the next day you’d catch him stealing glances at you from across the room, defending you from merwin and his gross jokes, and making sure you were taking care of yourself.

You mentally kicked yourself for thinking about him in such a way. He’s your friend, y/n. He doesn’t see you like that. He’s just a nice guy. You repeated that to yourself until you heard Jason speak up. “Boys are just eager to catch a break, sir. No harm meant.” ‘Did I miss something?’ You thought. Looking up at him and nudging his arm a little. A confused look on your face. Jason tilted his head down, leaning his head to the side and whispering “fill you in later.”. You nodded. Still listening, but keeping to yourself.

After Eric was finished with his presentation, you made your way over to Joey. He was talking to Eric with a concerned look on his face. As you approached, you cued in on their conversation. “Bet the farm on this. I have a good feeling we're gonna clear up." Said Eric. “I wish I shared your optimism, Colonel." Joey spoke, the colonel turned his heels and made his way over to Rachel, as you leaned on the table next to joey. “Hey, you okay?” You looked at him with a soft expression. Joey was always like a big brother to you, ever since you joined the team he and you would always get into trouble together. He sighed. “I’m okay, just a little worried is all” Joey shrugged

“Hey, don’t be. Nothings gonna happen to any of us, not if I can help it.” You smiled a little, tilting your head. “What if you can’t help it, scout? What if I can’t help you or, or merwin or-“ “hey” you interrupted “will you stop that. We’re gonna be okay. Promise” you stuck out your pinky, which made him smile a little, before wrapping his pinky around yours. “See? Everything is going to be A-O-K” you stood up straight. Knocking on his helmet playfully before walking off, on your way to get ready for the mission.

Tunnels, 1100 hours, 63ft

“Y/n! Get down!” You heard Joey scream, it sounded almost like an echo. What the fuck? “Joey?” You groaned. Everything hurt. You felt like shit. You tried to sit up, only to gasp at the sharp pain in your shoulder. Your eyes snapped open, only to see it was dark all around you, besides the circle of light around you, which came from the giant hole in the ceiling above.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You winced, rolling onto your side. Your vision was blurry for a second, before everything came clear. The pain in your shoulder was burning like a white flame. You clutched it, only to find that it felt wet. “Ah, shit” you hissed. Pulling your hand back into the sunlight. Your hand was covered in blood. “Fan-fucking-tastic” you whispered, looking around to observe your surroundings as you stood up. You couldn’t really tell where you were exactly, other than it was a tunnel of some sort. “Joey? Jason?” You whisper/called. Careful incase there were enemies nearby. “What the fuck” you whispered, again and again. It’s the only thought you really had, as you looked for your weapons. other than finding your team and patching up your shoulder, of course. You assumed it was a bullet hole, giving the fact you were just in combat. ‘Oh, shit.’ You thought. The memories flooding back.

You stood up straight, checking your clip. Thank god it was full. You took a couple steps towards the dark tunnel, raising your weapon. Turning your headlight on. You could barely see, the path was so narrow. You clicked the intercom button on your earpiece “Scout to mailman 3, Nicky? Where are you?” You spoke just above a whisper. Your new call sign made you smile a little. Jason had given it to you a few days ago, saying something about how you’re like a girl scout.

As you approached you realized the three figures were Nick, Jason and clarice. Nick and Jason were saying something about needing to find you, and You heard merwin groan in pain. “found her” he managed to get out, making them all turn around “fancy meeting you here” you joked lightheartedly, grabbing your knife and starting to cut the wires. “How did you- what? Where did you come from?” Jason said in disbelief. “I honestly don’t know, jase” you said softly. Glancing at him for just a second, before continuing to Concentrate on not injuring you or merwin any more. Finally, you cut the right wire that sent merwin to the ground.

As you all surrounded him, he started screaming again. “oh fuck he’s so fucked” you heard Jason say breathlessly. “You don’t think I can- hear you” merwin gasped between breaths. He really was fucked. Blood and guts never really bothered you, but this was just awful. His skin was torn to shreds, pieces of barbed wire still mauling his flesh. You had to do something to get it out. “Hey, hey, look at me” you said softly. Putting a hand on merwins helmet. You were trying to comfort him. He may have been a dick, but that didn’t mean you needed to be one. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna patch you up best I can, and then we’ll get out of here. Everything is going to be just fine.” “There’s morphine in my pack! Get it!” You heard Nick yell, “Jesus, who the hell loaded these packs” Jason grumbled. as you turned your head to look at them, clarice was yanked into the darkness.

“What the fuck?” You whispered in disbelief. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Jason stepped towards where clarice had disappeared. “Clarice?” Jason called softly, only to be answered by a menacing shrieking. Jason and Nick jumped back, meanwhile you had already grabbed merwins pack straps, ready to start moving him. “The fuck was that?” Merwin winced. Jason and Nick each grabbed one of merwins arms. “Move! Now!” He shouted, dragging the man behind the 3 of you. The trail of blood following.

“Nick he’s bleeding out, we have to take care of this” you insisted, dragging him into a corner. Hoping whatever was out there wouldn’t find you. You kept pressure on merwins wounds while Jason scoped out the area. “How is it?” Merwin winced. “You want the good version or the bad version?” You couldn’t look at him, knowing he was fucked either way. “Just give it to me straight.” He groaned. Nick shook his head, “I’m not gonna lie man, it’s pretty fuckin’ bad”. The shrieking was getting louder as you moved to start patching him up, he was bleeding out too quickly. “Whatever’s out there, he’s drawing them down on us!” Jason said in a panicked tone. You’ve never seen him this scared. “He won’t hold still jase, you need to get the morphine in him.” You turned your head. He was like a deer in headlights. “Now kolchek!” You demanded, he was a good soldier, they called him the best of the best. You knew he’d follow an order rather than a plea.

In a second Jason was digging the morphine out, as Nick kept his hand over merwins mouth to keep him quiet. you kept bandaging up several of merwins wounds, Joey had been giving you medicine training but it wasn’t enough.. wait, where’s Joey?you thought. Nick started to say something, but couldn’t hear what He was saying over the intense shrieking coming from down the hall. By the time you and Jason looked up, it was too late. “Nick, you’re choking him!” You slapped his hand away. Jason moved to check his pulse.

“Can’t find a pulse, I can’t find a fucking pulse” he said in a panicky tone. You looked over at Nick. “It can’t be! I- I didn’t mean to-“ he stuttered “he’s gone Nick, merwin is dead” Jason spoke just above a whisper. Your heart sank. You fell back into your heels, looking down at your blood soaked hands. Nick looked at you both in sheer regret. “I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean, fuck” he nearly shrieked. Standing up with his hands on his head “Nick it’s okay” you sighed. “It was an accident ” You stood up, ignoring the pain in your left shoulder and side. Jason stood beside you. Your heart jumped when you saw him out of the corner of your eye. Fuck. Why did he have to stand so damn close? Normally you’d be annoyed that someone’s up your ass, but Jason being close made you feel.. safe? Not the kind of safe Nicky made you feel. Nick always said he had to protected you, but you wanted jason to protect you, to hold you. Jesus, this ain’t the time.

“We gotta move guys, they’re coming.” You turned, and jason grabbed your left arm “hey we need to-“ You let out a yelp, Jason immediately released his hold. He had grabbed your bad arm. As the adrenaline wore off, you remembered that you were shot. “Fuck” you seethed as you clutched it. Him twisting your arm made it start to bleed again. “Y/n? What the fuck happened to you?” Jason moved closer. Grabbing your shoulder to examine you. “Ow, ow jason, be careful would you?” You whimpered, The shrieking from whatever was chasing you seemed to have subsided. “Christ, you got hit” he sighed, applying pressure. “Good news is, the bullet went clean through” he spoke softly as he started to put bandages on each side. “Bad news?” You seethed, Clenching his shirt tightly. “We’re out of morphine” he chuckled. Making you smile a little “awesome” you turned your head to look at him.

He seemed so focused. his eyes were narrow on your wound, cursing as he fumbled with the last bandage. You never noticed how attractive he really was until now. His face and arms were covered in dirt, he had a cuts and scrapes all over him. He brought his eyes to meet yours and you immediately felt your face heat up, looking away and at nick. He was looking at the floor, clearly upset. “Nick-“ “Let’s move” Nick said sorrowfully, breezing past you and Jason, and down the cave corridor. You looked up at Jason, who was already looking at you. “Do you think he’ll be okay?” You whispered as you both started to walk, careful not to let Nick hear. “He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine” Jason spoke as if he was trying to convince himself, rather than you.

Suddenly, you hear some sort of clicking noise behind you. You turn, shining your headlight towards the noise. Your heart stopped. There was some sort of.. creature crawling towards you. It was winged,and massive. “Oh my god” you gasped. Jumping back. The creature shrieked, standing on two legs and bellowing an inhuman scream. “Fuck, fuck! We gotta move!” You heard Jason yell, in an instant your tiny group was racing down the corridor, being chased by whatever the hell that was. You rounded a corner, seeing collapsed debris over a small staircase, and a clear bath right next to it. “We gotta go through it!” Nick shouted. “The other ways safer, she can’t make it through-“ You cut Jason off irritably. “I don’t need my damn shoulder to jump.” You hissed, immediately hurdling over the collapsed pieces of structure. You didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but now was not the time to be careful.

The boys followed close behind as you ran into a semi open area. Before you could even look around, something smashed into your side, knocking you to the ground. “Y/n!” You heard Nick shout as your back hit the floor. The winged creature was ontop of you, clawing at your face. You shielded yourself and tried to kick it off as best you could but to no avail, you pulled out your knife and started stabbing it in the chest. “Get it off!” You shrieked as Nick and Jason started shooting at it. the thing ran off, giving you time to scramble to your feet. You clutched your side in agony. “God I hate this place” you groaned, continuing to run down the tunnel. You ran as fast as you could, praying to whatever god was listening that there weren’t more ahead of you. You came to a corner. Stopping and pointing your weapon behind you down the hall.

“What the hell is going on?!” Nick shouted. “I don’t know man, it was not supposed to play out like this” Jason spoke shakily. “How the hell are we going to get out of-“ you were cut off by a voice over your earpiece. “Any call signs this is king, contact contact! Taking fire! Does anyone cope over!” You turned to look at Jason. “That’s Rachel!” Nick cried. “King, this is mailman 2-1 actual say again, over.” Jason said, holding his earpiece. No response. “king this is mailman 2-1 actual. How copy, over?!” Nothing. “Damn it!” He hissed, turning around and leading down the tunnel.

A little bit of time had passed, and all three of you had been walking for a while, in silence. Nick was the first to speak up. “I killed him” he choked out, “I fucking killed merwin” he let out a shaken breath. “It was an accident.” You and Jason said nearly in unisons. “Just like the woman at the checkpoint” he shook his head. “Don’t make shit weirder than it already is, clear your fucking mind!” Jason hollered. Making you jump a little.

“We need to find someplace to chill out for a second. Figure out a plan” you grumbled, turning a corner and seeing Eric, sobbing near a cliff. You felt so dizzy that you really didn’t care about Eric’s state of being. “Go see what’s up with him, I’ll keep watch” you said to Jason, who nodded and approached the colonel with Nick. You could hear Eric crying, but couldn’t make out any of the words. Everything hurt, your head was pounding, your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your side was in excruciating pain. The creature that took you down must have broken a rib, or at the very least bruised one. You were still worried about Joey, hoping he was topside and safe.

“Rachel!” You jumped and ran towards your teammates at the sound of Nick yelling. “What the hell happened?” You said, looking between the three men. All of them were staring over the cliff. “No..” you stepped back. Shaking your head in disbelief, tears brimming your eyes. How could she be gone? You felt sick. “We gotta move, colonel we’re sitting ducks! We need to fall back, now.” Jason hollered. “Over there” Nick pointed towards what seemed to be a separate room, with huge doors. “Let’s go” you sighed, following Jason & nick. Eric was behind you.

“Scout, you’re bleeding” Eric exclaimed. Rushing to your side. “I’m fine, really, kolchek patched me up” you gave him a weak smile. “No, I mean you’re bleeding through the bandages.” “What?” You looked down, your shirt drenched in fresh blood. “Son of a bitch” you hissed, applying pressure. “Scout you don’t look so good..” Nick said warningly, walking closer to you with Jason beside him. “Gee, thanks sergeant, you really know how to make a girl feel special” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. You knew you’d eventually loose enough blood to weaken you, but you didn’t think it’d happen this quickly.

“Y/n seriously. Look at me.” Jason spoke up, and you did. “Jesus Christ” he breathed. Instantly putting your good arm over his shoulders. You tried to resist, but you were too tired. “Jason I’m fine, I can keep going.” You pleaded. You didn’t want to be dead weight. “Bullshit.” He grumbled. Picking you up and carrying you through the door. Everything faded to black.

Flashback

“Scout, hey! Um, hello? Earth to y/n?” You heard, picking your head up from your sketch pad to see Jason. “Oh hey kolchek. What’s up?” You were sitting on your bunk, relaxing after a long day of paperwork. “I said, Whatcha drawing there?” He chuckled. Sitting across from you. “I- um- nothing.” You said hurriedly, attempting to close your sketchbook, but he snatched it up to take a peek. “Jason!” You whined, trying to get it back. “No no! Let me see!” He laughed. Standing up and backing away so he could take a better look. “Well, we’ll miss y/l/n, something you need to tell me?” He teased. Holding it up and pointing at the half finished drawing of himself. He was standing in the briefing room, infront of a beautiful arched doorway. “I- no. What? No. I draw all of you I just- fuck this is awkward” you groaned. Covering your face with your hands. “Well?” He teased, raising his eyebrows with a grin on his face. “Jesus, Jason, I-“ you sighed. “I just like to draw you guys, that’s all” you looked up at him, praying he wouldn’t flip a page and see the one of him shirtless on the previous page. “I’m just teasin’, I think it’s pretty cool” he smiled, handing the sketch pad back. “Thanks” you smiled, taking the pad and setting it on your cot. “Next time though, you should draw one of us” he gulped, realizing what he just said. “You know, all of us” he said a little too quickly, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “Well well, mr kolchek, something you wanna tell me?” You teased, mocking him. You stood up, walking closer to him. The tension was growing thicker every second. “I-“ he was cut off by Joey coming into the room “guys, Merwin and Nick are gonna- woah. Am I interrupting something?” He said in shock, seeing you and Jason nearly chest-to-chest “nope, not at all, Cmon lieutenant” you hummed, following Joey out of your room. Jason just stood there, flustered and confused.

#dark pictures house of ashes #eric king #hoa #house of ashes #jason kolchek #joey gomez #nathan merwin #nick kay #rachel king #clarice stokes #the curator #incorrect house of ashes #salim othman #jason kolchek x reader

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ally-writes-many-things · 2 years

Text

You’re a father (J.Kolchek) Part 2

Summary: you were secretly pregnant when you were swallowed into an underground world that was full of danger.

Words: 1.6K

Requested:

Warnings or A/N:

Tags: @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @thedreamingfish99 @meadows-of-light @thefictionalgemini

Jason grabbed his gun and pointed at the place where Clarice had just been. You quickly ran to where Jason and Nick were and kept an eye on that place, waiting for whatever took Clarice to appear. “What the fuck just happened?”

Jason walked around Merwin, just a bit. “Clarice?”

That’s when an awful noise started. “What the fuck is that?”

As soon as Jason put his gun back in his holster, he picked up Merwin. “Move! Now!”

Jason was carrying Merwin when Nick picked him up from the other side. It took you only a few seconds to realize that Merwin would bleed to death if his wound wasn't bandaged up if they didn't act soon. “Guys, Merwin is bleeding out, you gotta take care of him,”

After pulling Merwin to the cave wall, Nick assessed Merwin's chest again while Jason looked out to keep an eye on whatever was chasing you. “How is it?”

“You want the good version or the bad version?”

“Just give it to me straight,”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty fucking bad,”

“Whatever’s out there, he’s drawing them down on us!”

“He won’t hold still! Get the damn morphine in him!”

Nick tried to cover Merwin's mouth with his hand, but Merwin kept yelling and screaming out in pain. Merwin was still screaming loudly. In a flash, Jason stabbed Merwin in the thigh with the morphine pen. “We’re so fucked,”

“Didn’t I just tell you to keep your shit together?”

“They’re coming for us!”

Nick held his hand over Merwin's mouth while he was arguing with Jason, and you could tell that Merwin was struggling to breathe because Merwin was slapping Nick’s arm.. “Nick! You’re killing him,”

Nick uncovered Merwin’s mouth just long enough for him to catch his breath before covering his mouth up again, the morphine had kicked in and caused him to pass out. “Morphine’s kicked in,”

The moment you heard something close to you, Nick started blindly shooting at them as Jason hoisted Merwin onto his shoulder and you all took off running.

After a while Jason had gotten tired of carrying Merwin on his shoulder so he and Nick started to drag him again but you had finally lost whatever was chasing you a while back. “Should’ve left me…I’d have killed ‘em all,”

Jason quickly looked down at Merwin then back up to watch where he was going. “I don’t doubt it, Corporal. But right now, we stay tight,”

You scanned ahead and saw a safe place for the time being to place Merwin at. “Put him there, it looks safe enough,”

Nick and Jason pulled Merwin to the broken wall and you sat down next to him for a second. You needed to rest. You were on your feet for who knows how long and you were pretty sure that wasn’t good for the baby. Jason kneeled to the ground to keep an eye out while Nick looked the other way “Colonel, is that you?”

You stare at Jason while he was staring out into the distance, thinking about telling him about your pregnancy. You might not have another chance to do so. You stood up from where you were sitting and stood next to your boyfriend.

“Hey Jase,”

Jason kept looking in the direction he was looking at for a few more seconds before looking up at you. “Yes? Are you okay?”

“Yes, no. I’m not sure but there’s something I need to tell you,”

Jason stood up and grabbed your hand. “What is it?”

You walked a little away from where Merwin was so he couldn’t hear you. “I know this isn’t the best place or time to tell you but I don’t know if I’ll get another chance. Jase, I’m pregnant,”

Jason just stared at you and you couldn’t get a read on him by his face. He was good at masking his emotions. “Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure. I’ve like eight weeks late for my period and as you could tell I’m having mood swings constantly and this past week, I’ve gotten sick for no reason which is what I’m assuming is morning sickness,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t let me do my job as an archaeologist,”

. “You’re damn right. If you would’ve told me that you were carrying a baby. A baby that is mine, I would let you come in harm’s way. I wouldn’t have let you come here. You should’ve told me and you wouldn’t be in this position,”

Jason’s voice was filled with anger which you knew wasn’t directly aimed towards you. It was aimed at the worry and him being scared but that still didn’t change the fact, him raising his voice at you, hurt. You felt tears rise up in your eyes and you felt a couple of them come out. “I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you. Please don’t be mad at me,”

Jason saw that and immediately changed his tone, pulled you into a hug and comforted you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that angry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I understand where you’re coming from but I could’ve stopped you from coming. I could’ve stopped you from being in this situation. I’m just worried about losing you down here and now I’m even more worried now that I know you are carrying my child in this fucking place. I’m just fucking terrifed,”

You didn’t move your head from where it was buried in his chest as you talked but it just came out muffled.

“What?”

You tried it again but again it was muffled. Jason laughed at you. “Darling, if you want to say something, you gotta lift your head away from my chest so it’s not muffled,”

“I said, you're okay with me being pregnant?”

Jason moved his arms up and grabbed your face with both of his hands and lowered himself down so he could be eye level with you. “Am I okay? You're asking me if I'm okay with it? I’m fucking ecstatic. I love that you are carrying my child because I love you. When I think about my future, I don't envision my life without you in it. I don't know when yet but I do know that I'm gonna marry you. It's only fair…you stole my heart now in order for you to make it up to me, you're gonna have to marry me,"

You couldn’t help but burst out in tears, you felt Jason tense up. “Oh no, you’re crying again, what did I say? I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you,”

You laughed at him. “No, these tears are happy tears and you’re gonna have to my mood swings,”

“Oh no. Just remember when you’re mad at me, I’m not Merwin,”

You left out a short laugh. “I’ll try,”

“RACHEL!”

You and Jason quickly turned around and ran over to where Nick was. He was looking frantically down an abyss. You also heard whatever was chasing you coming. “Jason, they're coming,”

“Colonel, we’re sitting ducks. We need to fall back. Now!”

“Over there,”

Nick pointed at some structure that had a shit ton of giant pillars. It looked like the outside of a temple. Jason and NIck ran over to Merwin and helped carry him into the temple. You walked into the temple and it was beautiful. Or at least it looked like it was in the past. What was this temple made for? Hell what was this place made for? In all your years studying history, you’ve never heard about this. A temple that was underground? Or was it buried after so many years? How long has this place been around for?

“Slow down, he might still be in here,”

Jason looked and sounded annoyed. “Right now, Colonel, Iraqis are the least of our problems,” Jason turned around and looked at the door you just came through. “They’re not following. This is Mailman Two-One Actual to all call signs. How copy? Over,”

No one answered.

“Joey, report in. Over,”

“Joey’s dead,”

You all looked at Nick but Jason was the one to speak. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“The Iraqis tore right through him. He died in my fucking arms,”

You felt tears welled up in your eyes and as best as you could you tried to stop them from coming out but your hormones were heightened and you couldn’t help it. You ran over to Jason and hugged him as you quietly sobbed.

Jason wrapped his arms around you as he spoke out loud. “Aw no, not Joey. The hell are we gonna get out of this?”

Jason gently pulled you out of his arms and walked over to the door and started to close it. “We got to lock this place down. Form a defensive perimeter and buy ourselves some damn breathing space,”

Eric turned his entire body to talk to Jason. “Lieutenant, what did you mean when you said the Iraqis are the least of our worries?”

“You believe in God?”

“Absolutely not,,”

You were still full on sobbing but as soon as Jason started talking about those creature things, your tears cleared right up. Of course you were beyond upset over losing Joey but you are more scared of those creatures than you were anything else. You weren’t even scared for yourself, you were scared of the baby that you were growing inside you. You have been kicking yourself since you landed in this hellhole.

. “Well start believin’. We are under attack by…I don’t know what. You wouldn’t believe me even if I tried,” Jason let out a forced laugh. Hell, I don’t believe it and I was there,

#jason kolchek #jason kolchek/you #house of ashes jason #house of ashes jason kolchek #jason kolchek x reader #house of ashes rachel #house of ashes eric #house of ahses nick kay #house of ashes salim

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venusamere · 2 years

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The quarry: try out writing, part 2

So I decided that I should give the last part of my ‘little try out writing session for the quarry’ a second part where the group actually reunites:D

!!Warnings!!: the reader’s pronouns aren’t mentioned:)!, a bit angsty at the start but other than that it’s just the poor teens being finally happy:,)

Summary: ‘The quarry’ x reader!, after a long time of going back and forth you decide to reunite with the group, hopefully getting a little bit of closure in the process.

Note: It’s almost 2:00 AM and i’m sleep deprived so i’m sorry if there are any grammar errors!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*: ﾟ✧:*

Anxiety was spreading through your body like a virus. You weren’t sure of this. On one hand you missed them like crazy, on the other one you could already feel yourself fainting. You really wanted to turn back your car and get yourself out of the situation with a stupid excuse, but it was already too late.

Your stomach dropped as you saw the big yellow sign with ‘Hachett’s Quarry Summer Camp’ written on it in red. You inspected it as you stopped your car impulsively. The paint was worn off on the edges and some of the letters faded into a paler red. You firmly gripped the steering wheel as you closed your eyes, trying to stop your shaky breathing.

You nearly had a heart attack when your phone beeped, picking it up almost instantly to see who messaged you. It was no surprise when you saw Kaitlyn’s name on the screen. She most probably thought you bailed on them…or maybe worse, but either way you sighed, knowing there’s no escape out of this one. She announced that everyone was already there and told you that they would be going by the camp fire.

You knew exactly what that meant. A walk in the woods all by yourself. Fortunately, the sun was still out of its hiding spot so you quickly got your car running again hopping for something good to come out of this mess.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the camp. It was your safe place before the incident went down. Fresh air, little kids running around laughing, the vibrant blue tones the sky had everyday, the camp fire that always ended in a playful fight over the last piece of chocolate. You loved your job as a counselor, you really did.

Your eyes got teary when you remembered all the good times you have spent with everyone here, but the past remains the past, can’t change it, can’t go back to it.

Unfortunately, not only the good parts stuck with you. You couldn’t help but jump a little whenever you felt the wind blowing in too hard on the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Aside that, you were extremely cautious of anything out the ordinary, keeping a small pocket knife and a taser on you for protection’s reasons.

You could feel your heart beating faster and faster as you went deeper into the woods. You could already see some smoke into the distance, meaning that you were closer to the camp fire.

As you finally saw it, your body froze. Seeing people there kept making you travel back in time to that night. This wasn’t the first time nor the last time your fear of the past and rejection made you overthink your decisions, but you decided to fight against it.

You hesitantly approached the camp fire as a pair of eyes immediately turned to look in your direction.

“Kaitlyn…” you mouthed, your jaw probably hitting the dirty floor of the woods. A smile creeped onto her face as she ran towards you, quickly wrapping you into a tight hug, leaving you surprised but also relived. You slowly hugged her back as the both of you stood there in the warmth of each other’s arms. “Good to be back, huh?” she asked as she slowly broke free from the hug. “I suppose…maybe it would’ve been better if you greeted me with some ‘Peanut Butter Butterpops’” you joked as she let out a laugh. “This joke is never gonna get old, huh?” Kaitlyn asked, smirking at you. “Never” you smiled as you responded. You took a small glance at the two people that were around the fire. You gave Kaitlyn a questioning look before she patted your back reassuringly, making you sigh as you started to walk in their direction.

“Truth or dare flashbacks, am I right?” you heard a masculine voice say, followed by a laugh. Kaitlyn coughed to get their attention, their heads turning almost instantly towards you. You kept changing looks with the two people standing in front of you. You really couldn’t believe that they were actually here.

“Dude— NO FUCKING WAY” Dylan shouted, staring at you in disbelief. “Your yelling is gonna leave me deaf one day” Ryan said as he mockingly rubbed his ears. “It’s good to see you two” you said softly. “We’re glad to see you too” Ryan said giving you a small smile. You could see Dylan’s excitement as he moved his balance on one leg onto another. “You disappeared without giving any ‘goodbye hug’” he said as he opened his arms waiting for his reward. You snorted as you embraced him into a warm hug, relaxing your shoulders.

You gave one to Ryan too, feeling safer than ever. “I don’t wanna ruin the emotional moment, but where’s the rest of the group?” you asked looking around. “They’re taking a bit of a walk but they shouldn’t be too far away” Dylan responded as he jogged away.

After a little while you saw the rest of the group being leaded by Dylan to the camp fire. It all felt so familiar, but yet so different.

They all were surprised to see you showed up. Emma greeted you warmly with a hug and a teasing remark for not contacting them in a very long time. Jacob ruffled your hair and trapped you into a bone crushing hug. Abi almost cried of joy and jumped in your arms, glad that you were safe and sound. Nick’s jaw dropped….like literally. When he recovered, his initial response was to check if he was dreaming but he opted for a hug instead. Laura gave you a warm smile and some words of affirmations, squeezing your hand reassuringly. She also introduced you to Max since you didn’t get to meet him properly. He seemed like a nice guy. Polite, sympathetic and overall just a great dude.

You couldn’t help but smile when you saw the whole group together. Everyone’s changed so much, including you. You didn’t realize until this moment how much you actually cared about them, how much you missed them, how much you loved them.

You were sure that the healing journey has just began. You suffered in your own emotional chaos, but now you’ve got people that understand you and care for your feelings. This is just the beginning and you all knew it, but you couldn’t complain much. You actually enjoyed it and felt at peace.

You let yourself breath and let go of the past, something that you’ve hold onto for a very long time.

#the quarry fanfic #supermassive games #the quarry #x reader #fanfic #dylan lenivy #kaitlyn the quarry #ryan the quarry #emma mountebank #jacob custos #abi the quarry #nick fucillo #max brinly #laura the quarry #2k games #gosh i’m too tired to think of any more tags #this is all you’re getting #kay i’m done

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thefanficmonster · 1 year

Note

Hello!

I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you’d be able to do a headcanon or a fic (which ever you’d like) on Eric from house of ashes taking care of the reader when their sick

Thank you so much! 🤍

Hi dear! I love your request and I certainly have heart eyes for Colonel King so I had A TON of fun writing this 🤭 Hope you enjoy this drabble 💕

Pairing: Eric King x Reader (Gender Neutral) [The Dark Pictures Anthology: House of Ashes]

Warnings: Descriptions of sickness/flu symptoms, Swearing(?)

Genre: FLUFF, Romance, Comfort Fluff

Being in the Marines has strengthened Eric's immune system greatly over the past decade

However, he still remembers how you'd take care of him when he was sick all the times he came down with the most simple sickness and dramatized it as if he was on his death bed

And he's never hesitated to give you the same treatment in return

Even if you are more of a 'It's nothing' type

So much so you wouldn't think twice about going to work (as long as whatever you have isn't contagious)

Thankfully, Eric is not about to let that happen

Count on this man becoming a human vending machine, providing all the snacks, drinks and candy you desire

His cooking skills are mediocre at best and on a good day, but that's not to say he doesn't put in an extra 110% into his attempts when they are meant for you

He's mastered the classic chicken noodle soup so count on that being breakfast, lunch and dinner if ordering takeout wasn't a thing

He wouldn't let you lift a finger, insisting you stay in bed and rest while he takes care of the household chores

It's a relaxation tactic for him as well, getting to do something as ordinary as vacuum the living room or wash the dishes helps him forget the last warzone he barely escaped with his life

At the end of the day, he's sure to climb in bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you despite your warnings to preserve his own health

You both fall asleep, with him more likely to be the first, while whatever movie you chose keeps playing as background noise

10/10 partner you got there, that's all imma say

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stevesonlygirl · 1 year

Text

send reqs! right now i plan on writing for stranger things, outer banks, marauders, cobra kai, sturniolo triplets and maybe some others soon!!!

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crazymissy22 · 2 years

Text

Hi, I'm CrazyMissy22 and this is my first post on Tumblr! I'm here to promote some of my stories and if you are a big simp of House of Ashes just like me, go check out my fanfictions here! ⤵️

(COMPLETED)

This book contains mature content and spoilers from the original game.

__________________________________________

(COMPLETED)

This book contains mature content and spoilers from the original game.

Thank you so much and I wish ya to enjoy the readings! 🙏😊

_______________________________

Special tags: @kassiekolchek22 @yellowroseskolchek, definitely they gave me the inspiration I needed 💖

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spiritedgoat · 2 years

Text

The Ashes in Us

(Part 2)

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/spiritedgoat/692649443700391936?source=share

Warnings

Swearing

(Bold and/italics are what’s going through our dear reader’s mind)

>_<

Tell me if you guys like these:)

Bon apple teeth my dudes

_________________________

The wind from the blades blew strands of hair loose from your braid, whipping at your features, squinting your eyes at the helo that just landed in front of you. A man stepped out followed by a woman carrying equipment.

You and Jason saluted the newcomer walking toward you. "Colonel, good trip?"

"Not particularly." the man spoke up glancing at you and Jason through his sunglasses. "Welcome to Camp Slayer" Jason greeted offering a hand.

"My apologies for being early, things are moving fast" he apologized shaking Jason's hand.

"And this is my assistant, Clarice Stokes" Eric added ,turning to the woman.

"No worries sir ,good to have you on board. The techs are ready for your presentation, hello ma'am" Jason greeted ,the woman trailing behind Eric. "Stokes, Dr. Clarice Stokes" the woman said smiling at Jason, "Kolchek , First Lieutenant Kolchek" he said with his southern drawl, "And this is Corporal Y/N Jackowski " he added motioning to you with a quick nod of his head.

"Pleasure to meet you" you greeted politely.

Clarice let out a tight lipped smile and pushed passed you following Eric. This is going to be just 'lovely' you thought to yourself. Yep you're pretty sure she already doesn't like you.

Considering you were one of only two women on base, already not getting along too well with Rachel being the other, you sighed in defeat. You definitely found it easier to get along with the rest of the marines.

Maybe it was just the way you were raised , you weren't some pretty princess that needed saving, you could look after yourself and hold your own if push comes to shove. Or at least that's what your father taught...more like beat into you since you were a kid. Your father always wanted a son after all...and all your mother could give him was a daughter. So he raised you into what he wanted instead of what you were.

"You coming back there, Jack?" you heard Jason's voice call out

You shook the thoughts from your head and pushed yourself forward following after the group of people.

Even a few feet away from the group you could hear the blaring noise from Merwin's radio. He was busy with his daily workout and physically working on your nerves even before opening his mouth. You came to a halt next to Jason.

"I see you old man, keep busting out those reps" Jason said smiling slightly at Merwin sitting upright to look at the group of people in front of him.

"Come join me, maybe I'll teach you a thing or two" Merwin answered, his eyes scanning the faces before landing on you.

"Later. We have company" Jason spoke gesturing to Eric.

"Maybe missy would like to watch me get a sweat on, huh?" Merwin smiled and you raised your eyebrows visibly cringing at his offer.

Merwin loved poking fun at you or it was just to grind Jason's gears from time to time since he could see Jason's jaw clench at the comment.

You were used to Merwin being well...Merwin at this point but he always seemed to have the knack for rubbing you the wrong way.

"You wanna spot me little lady?" he smiled, a glint of amusement present in his eyes.

"Nah, I got eyes. I can see you quite fine from here thanks" you let out as nicely as possible

Merwin shifted his attention to his newest victim, sending Clarice a wink.

"Ignore Corporal Merwin, he lacks social skills" Jason stated turning to Eric. He glanced at you sending you a soft nod before continuing his walk along the hall.

"God have mercy on whatever demented creature married him" You sighed softly. Not soft enough though as Jason let out a soft snort. "Amen to that" he chuckled.

"What was that?" Merwin called out, you turned sending him a wink.

"Well I guess every unit has it's resident jackass" Eric stated, following closely behind.

The walk to the briefing room was not too eventful, running into Nick on the way.

"This is Sergeant Kay" Jason introduced giving Nick a pat on the shoulder. Nick scanned the group, looking at Eric but blatantly ignoring him when he spoke to him, "Yeah gotta get in there and get prepped" he mumbled, walking off. You frowned in question. The fuck was up with Nick? Since he seemed pretty chirpy on his way to see Rachel earlier.

"So what's his malfunction?" Eric asked watching as sergeant Kay walked away.

Jason sighed, "Nick ain't been himself lately. Civilian ate a bullet. Nick took it hard"

"Is he combat ready?" Eric asked frowning ,looking between you and Kolchek.

"He's a big boy sir, he's ready" You answered simply standing your ground.

Entering the briefing room, Jason led the group though the doorway. "So this must be the one and only satellite guy" Joey commented from his desk watching intently as the man stood in front of him. You looked down at Joey a smile creeping onto your lips, shaking your head slowly, knowing Joey's about to eat shit.

"Colonel Eric King...the satellite guy" Eric said seemingly a little amused by the marine's mistake. You could see Joey's soul leave his body for a moment as he stumbled up to his feet saluting the new commanding officer. "Lance Corporal Comez, sir!" he introduced, Jason biting back his own smile.

"Give the Colonel full site access" He stated pointing at Joey

"Well I'm telling ya, when the Queen Bitch finds out about this, she's gonna flip" Jason said holding up the letter.

"Yeah, me and Rachel know each other, she'll understand" Eric stated, your eyebrows lifting at his comment.

"Sir?" Jason had visible confusion on his face

Clarice cleared her throat and spoke up "The Queen Bitch you're referring to, is his wife". You swear you could see Jason's eyes grow twice it's size.

You bite down on your lip to suppress the smile that was forcing it's way on your face. You've never heard silence louder than what befell the room at that moment.

Eric made his way past Jason looking through the rest the room's got to offer.

You stepped over to Jason who dropped his head squeezing his eyes shut. A low "fuck" escaped his lips.

God it was funny

He saw the amusement written all over your face even though you tried your best to hide it, sucking your lips in to form a thin line.

"Don't.You.Fucking.Dare" he pressed out in a threatening low voice his accent heavily present. You couldn't help but crack more at the empty threat as a soft half chuckle escaped your lips, you gave him a pat on the shoulder

You smiled to yourself knowing you're gonna tease the shit out of him later for that one.

"Nice work, hotshot" you winked walking into the room, Jason following suit.

"Sir, I am so sorry. Rachel never mentioned that she was married" you heard Jason apologize as you walked over to Joey.

Still amused "How you doing Joey? How you like the new commander" you asked, a shit eating grin plastered on your face as you made yourself comfortable sitting on the edge of the desk. Joey gave you a glare and if looks could kill, you'd be six feet beneath catering for some maggots by now. Eventually he broke a smile at the memory. You tapped him on the back of the helmet reassuringly ,"Happens to the best of us, bud".

"What even is this place? Looks like a ballroom" Clarice asked, a voice as sweet as honey

"That's exactly what it is, ma'am. Saddam was dancing it out here" Jason answered looking around at the building.

"Maybe I'll even let you take me for a spin" She said seductively, smiling at Jason.

You turned your head in Clarice's direction and narrowed your eyes at her. You weren't the jealous type, you knew better than that.

It's not like you had any right to be jealous either, you had no claim on Jason whatsoever. Still her words spewed so sweetly to Lieutenant Kolchek made heat rise from somewhere deep in your chest spreading through your whole body, you just hoped it didn't resonate on your face. Your face definitely spoke louder than your words sometimes.

"Jack....Jackowski, Y/N? Earth to Jack" Joey said snapping his fingers next to your face. Finally drawing your attention.

"Mhm?" You turned looking at Joey staring at you with an raised eyebrow. "Looked like you wanted to murder either Kolchek or the girl" he said a mischievous smile forming on his lips.

"What? No, sorry my head was somewhere else" you forced a smile, Joey not buying it.

"Uh huh yeah, like mentally murdering the girl?" he said ,humor trailed in his voice

"Yeah. What? No jesus Joey. Just thinking about some things I guess" you stated.

Not entirely sure if you were trying to convince Joey or yourself with that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The briefing felt like it took forever, especially with the added awkwardness between Rachel and Eric that was as clear as day.

Overall the tension was high in the room, irritable and the heat didn't help.

Eric went over the details of the mission, pretty straight forward.

Go in, take control, find the silo, confiscate the WMD's and leave with as little casualties as possible.

Well easier said than done.

You scanned over the room, your arms crossed over your chest as you watched the marines' annoyed faces as Eric and Merwin argued about some bullshit, yet again. Probably just another pissing competition between them.

"You act like this in all your briefings, Corporal?" Eric threatened

"Sorry sir, the boys are just ready to catch a break. No harm meant" Jason apologized on Merwin's behalf

His eyes glanced over ,meeting yours. You offered him a small smile as you shifted your body on the table, turning your attention back to Eric's speech.

"Sir, we just got urgent weather reports of a sandstorm moving in over the Zagros Mountains" Clarice notified, Eric slammed his fist down on the table cursing. The mission was set to take action the next hour but the sandstorm made it impossible to fly out.

"Finish your preps, we move out tomorrow at daybreak" Eric commanded leaving the room.

To your surprise you felt relief by the postponement of the mission, something about it didn't sit quite right with you. Usually when missions came you got your head in the game and did as told but you survived off your own instincts. That gut feeling hasn't let you down yet.

The team finished the last of the preparations for the next morning's mission.

All you wanted to do tonight was relax and take it easy maybe catch up on some reading, since you had no guard duty, you were free for the night.

You were just on your way out when a hand caught your arm, your head snapped to the culprit.

Jason smiled at you, dimples making themselves known. "You have plans tonight, Jack?" he asked.

You looked at him weighing your options mentally before speaking, "Mhm yeah, I don't have too much going on. Why?"

You figured, it might be your last night alive tonight so why the hell not, there's always the chance of getting shot tomorrow.

He smiled at your answer, "Good , then join me and some of the boys tonight for some not so cold, cold ones" He suggest a smile on his face, think he also felt some relief.

You nodded your head "Fine but only a few, you know I don't do well with alcohol" You laughed at the memories flooding your brain of the last time you got tipsy and ended up punching Merwin out cold because of some dispute.

Jason let out a chuckle laughing at the fact he knew exactly what you were referring to.

"It honestly wouldn't be such a bad thing if it happened again" Jason snickered a crooked smile on his face.

You shook your head embarrassed of your own behaviour, you were normally calm and collected but damn you were a lightweight, "No I'd rather not take my chances, maybe I'll get reported to the lieutenant".

Jason raised an eyebrow, smiling at your words. "You just might" He whispered barely audible.

You smiled playfully at the words he probably didn't mean to say out loud "Then I'll see you later." you answered waving a hand as a goodbye to the few guys left in the room.

You took your leave to your quarters that you shared with 3 other marines including Joey.

So privacy was...interesting. At least the men respected your needs, especially when it came to washing up. You were allowed to use to closed off shower in the Sergeants' shared bathroom. The bathroom used by the higher ranking marines, it was fancier than what you guys had, more intact and working.

You entered the room making sure to knock first.

"Hey, you're back early. You ain't got guard duty tonight?" Joey greeted, laying sprawled out on his bed reading some magazine, dear god you hoped it was a normal magazine. After the last incident of walking in on Joey at an...undesired time both of you made the unspoken agreement of always knocking VERY loudly before entering the room.

"Nah, I'm free tonight Joe. Ricky and Theo are on guard so we get the room for ourselves, but said I'd go out and have some drinks with Jason...." Joey turned immediately looking at you raising his eyebrows "...and some of the other boys"

You frowned at his sudden change of expression, "What? Did I say something?" you asked, honestly confused Joey looked at you as if you just sacrificed his first born son.

"Spit it out Gomez" you challenged

"Nah Nah nothin's wrong...So you and Kolchek? Anything going on there, perhaps??" he asked stepping closer.

Fuck.

"What? Our Lieutenant Kolchek? Are you crazy? He's my superior no fucking way man" You tried to sound convincing

Joey assessed your words, watching you intensely before narrowing his eyes at you

FUCK.

"I'm not buying it" he said plainly

"What do you mean?"

"You got very nervous when I mentioned Kolchek where as you're usually calm AND you did that weird knuckle rubbing thing you always do when you lie."

FUCK.

You stared quietly at Joey trying to come up with an excuse but your brain had 12 tabs open and half were frozen. You were screwed utterly screwed. Joey was going to torture you with his newly learned knowledge.

Even if you denied it, it would be no use. Joey knew you better than that, he'd see right through you.

"Considering you're not denying my brilliance...I'm gonna poke the bear and say I'm right?" Joey stated, a shit eating grin on his face.

You sighed your defeat, looking up at him

"Oh shit, I knew it!" he said maybe a little too loudly considering the paper thin walls.

"What do you mean, 'you knew it' ? " you cornered him

"Pfft, you don't think I see the blatant flirting you two do? The way you'd follow him into hell or take a bullet for him at any given chance?."

You bit your lip rolling his words through your head, "Okay firstly that's kind of part of the job description and secondly I don't think he sees me like that"

Joey shrugged at your response "Uh huh say what you want."

You narrowed your eyes at the man flicking his glasses so they sit crooked on his face.

"I'm gonna go wash up, I'm still sweaty from this morning's PE"

Joey swatted your hand away and resumed his place reading the magazine.

You gathered your change of clothes paired with a scratchy beige towel and made your way to the bathroom.

The warm water hitting your skin after today felt amazing, your bones ached and your muscles were tired. You washed your hair and scrubbed at the dust sticking to your arms.

You didn't want to leave the comfort of the warm shower but you had to eventually, you reached a hand out of the shower searching for the clothes you dumped.

Underwear, grey sweatpants, sports bra, shirt. Shirt? Fuck where's the shirt. You put the close on leaving the shower cubicle trying to find the shirt. Fuck I probably dropped it on the way here.

A creak sounded as the door to the bathrooms opened, your heart skipped a beat.

Shit

Covering what you could, using the towel you covered your stomach, shoulders and breasts.

The door opened and Jason looked more shocked than you after stepping inside, you stared at him blankly for a moment

"What's the chances of meeting you here?" you said awkwardly

Jason blinked a few times before opening his mouth and closing it again

"Y-you know the normal, showering and what not " he let out his brows furrowed.

You shook your head in agreement trying to make the situation less awkward. Was it working? No

"Uh, you alright there Kyra?" Jason finally spoke the question he had been thinking.

"Mhm yeah...yeah no, I-I forgot my shirt" you admitted with a thin lipped smile.

"That makes more sense" he chuckled stepping closer. Your eyes widening a bit

"Here, take mine" he proposed, slipping his blue shirt off and handing it to you.

"Thank you, it'll be less weird than using the towel to go back" you admitted ,taking the shirt from his hand.

It was still warm from his body heat, your eyes involuntarily flicked over to his chest and immediately you realized what you did.

Shit

Jason smiled to himself at the fact you just checked him out. He stepped back and put a hand over his eyes allowing you to drop the towel.

You quickly slipped the shirt over your head, it was a bit big and it smelled like him. It was a deep woody smell mixed with a bit of dust.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. You can drop your hand, I'm done"

Jason smiled looking at the sight of you in his shirt, "Blue suits you" He commented

You didn't know how to respond, a smile creeped on your face "Thanks, I should probably get going"

You pushed your wet hair back so it hanged loose for the trip to your room.

"Then I'll see you a little later" Jason spoke, a soft smile on his face as he flipped his towel over the shower door.

You nodded making your leave, walking briskly back to your barrack ignoring the questioning looks you received from the passing soldiers.

_____________________________________________

You knocked, entering your shared room making a bee line for where the grey tank top still layed untouched on your bed.

"Goddammit, you idiot Kyra" you mumbled to yourself, throwing the shirt over the bed's frame.

"You took your time, nice shirt. Wait nice shirt?" Joey retraced his steps to stop behind you crossing his arms.

"Thanks" you absentmindedly answered, packing away your toiletries.

"Who's shirt is that?" He asked

"Mine, why?" You played it off

A moment of silence passed and you turned to face the man who was burning holes through the back of your skull.

"Woman, I know you only own 6shirts, 3 green army uniform shirts, a black tshirt, that tank top and a grey sweatshirt. Plus by the looks of it, that shirt is at least a size too big for you so my question validly stands" Joey claimed with a smirk on his face.

You blinked at the man a few times, struggling to actually find the words to say, as borderline creepy as the fact was he was right. It's one thing you had to give to Joey, he was damn observant. "Okay that's low key scary but fine, it's not my shirt. I forgot mine when I took a shower and had to borrow one." You admitted

Joey weighed your answer searching for something

"Ha. So who's is it?"

You shut your eyes, knowing the answer will just set him off more.

"It's...Jason's. He came into the bathroom when I was about to leave"

Joey smiled, happy with your answer

"Knew I recognized that shirt from somewhere."

"Oh shut up, Gomez" you shooed the man away.

The sun was almost entirely gone when you looked out the window at the stray palm trees in the distance. Only their silhouettes really visible.

Flopping down on your bed you silently stared at the crumbling tile ceiling.

#jason kolchek x reader #salim othman #eric king #rachel king #house of ashes #joey gomez #nick kay #clarice stokes #nathan merwin #jason kolchek

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