Flower Petals and Blood
𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝘩𝑢𝑟𝑐𝘩 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
Chapter 6
Word Count: 3.4k
𝑨/𝑵: HI! Hello, yes, it's me. I have updated with an even longer chapter for this ongoing series that you guys have really seemed to enjoy :D I’m happy for the support and love I’ve gotten!
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Graphic description of choking, perhaps vomit. Nothing too extreme for n o w, just good ole choking on some flowers.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"What's your deal?" You complained, your feet were trying to plant on the metal flooring of the base and then on the ground when you were dragged outside the base.
Your voice was high pitched and annoyed, as you if you had every right to be a bit whiny towards another soldier. The black-armored clad female had dragged you from your doorway, leaving behind Tucker to talk to you in private. The sun beat down on to your bear head and already sweat was working its way to dampen the back of your neck and back itself. It seemed to only get hotter in Blood Gulch around 'summertime', you had a way of telling when the 'seasons' changed due to the slight difference in this area.
"Whatever you could have said, you couldn't have said in front of your other teammate." You bit out, as the grip on your wrist grew tighter. Oh right, you forgot to mention how she had held you by the arm like a child who was in trouble, then dragged you away. She should have just grabbed you by the ear and scolded you just to further add on to your embarrassment.
"This isn't about him, this is far from him. Who you do on your own time in none of my concern. He's not even my teammate, to begin with in the first place, I'm just hired to be here to replace Church's death." Tex stated, her hand had pulled you harshly forward as the two of you wandered behind the back of the Blue base.
How quick she practically threw you ahead of her had your head spin slightly as you fought to gain your balance against the quick moment of momentum. Was a conversation that serious that she had to be that bitch to pull you away from- .. from. Well, what did she step in on back there? Were you going to do something with Tucker? You couldn't even remember, the moment he set his hands on you. Your body burst into flames of heat and some tingly feeling that left your mind dazed beyond compare. You were on fire and he added more gasoline to the bonfire that screamed in your chest. He burned the bright petals away and let you live. Maybe you were just pent up and Tucker was your only scapegoat. Did you like him? Maybe. He was good-looking, funny when he wasn't talking about his dick, and caring. He worried over your condition and in that one spare intimate moment, you could feel the ache in your lungs. He made you feel, normal. Tucker made you feel something other than pain and for one painstakingly moment as the world around you spun. Maybe he was something you needed in your life.
"Something is off about you," Texas spoke once you gained your bearings, her voice brought on that itchy feeling to your chest. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard and that yanked you out of your glazed over attention.
‘Gee Tex, as if puking up petals wasn't off enough. What do you want? A fucking billboard so you can see it easier instead of looking down at me from your god damn high horse named Church?' You thought to yourself.
Acid burned in your throat as you bit down on your tongue. You swallowed the sharp acidic tang that tried to push its way past your teeth in word vomit or actual vomit. Your breath left in a quick rush of air once your gazed turned to cast the female an actual agent of the nearly forgotten Project; and you. You were just someone that knew everything about the agents, everything the Project stood for. You could spill your guts to the public, to cover what the media didn't when the Director went into hiding. You didn't hate Project Freelancer, no you loved the stories that you heard about them. You loved and looked up to the war criminals as if they were Earth's do-gooders who saw no wrong and weren't manipulated into thinking they were better than anyone. Captain Flowers even told you of his past, of him faking his death to get into this particular simulation group under a new persona. He was dedicated enough to sell his soul for Project Freelancer, and by god did that organization let him down coldly.
He was crazy. his sanity gone and down the drain, the Project fell. He was all smiles and sadistic chuckles when everyone he ever knew or cared for was shown up as MIA or KIA. His sanity was gone and switched out for episodes that he was either way too friendly that it was uncomfortable, or for others that were a bit too bloodthirsty for a canyon group of idiots. He wasn't Agent Florida, he was some other man that filled that husk and took his job with the biggest grain of salt in the salt shaker.
You just hated her. Hate was a strong word, but she was just another manipulation that was conned by the Director. She didn't have to come back, she didn't have to be here and have Church wrapped around her pink finger, but she did. Church was hardwired to chase after her, he was destined to live out the Director's love through another robotic AI copy of her. You were just here on the sidelines to watch it play out and choke to death on some fucking made-up disease. Why do you need to be the one to tell her your whole fucked up one-sided love triangle fiasco when it's obvious she is here to just intimidate her.
Like some twisted female Alpha, she wants to make sure you don't fuck with what's hers. If it's possible to give hickies and blow an AI you'd gladly track Church down and make it happen as long as she sees it. The itchy feeling bloomed slowly back in your chest, your breath stuttered just slightly in your lungs. It was starting to hurt, the itchy feeling was moving upwards, like vines of a rose garden and twinning themselves through your organs. It's sharp thorns digging into flesh and tissues.
"Well?" Tex states, her arms have crossed over her onyx chest plate. Her head tilted to assess your unarmored form, and you swear she's grinning under the visor.
"It's just a head cold." You gritted out, the lie slipped through by the skin of your teeth, the truth was biting and burning on your tongue. The acidic taste rolled on your tongue, and it was harder to swallow this time around.
There was a scoff, from the other. Texas stared at you, her gold emotionless visor was staring you down. It was like she could see past the wavering lie you had hastily said to force her to be on her way. The silence growing between you two was nothing but uneasy, and your mouth burned with the sensation to double over and puke. You wouldn't mind spilling your guts, literally, on her polished black boots before you even amused her further. You needed to throw up, petals or liquid you couldn't tell this time around, whatever Texas was staring at, you wanted her to hurry up and move on. Your upper lip quivered as another beat of silence passed and she finally broke eye contact.
"I'll just go ask Church, you two seem to be.... way more comfortable for a teammate." One finger pointed accusingly at your face.
Your lips curled up at her words. "what's that supposed to mean?"
Tension sizzled, tightened, wound around your throat, and warmed your red blood cells that coursed through your veins as Tex didn't hesitate to reply.
"Church isn't smart, he's see-through." A snort escaped your mouth, one you couldn't help to not hold back. Yeah, no shit, he's see-through, he's not even a fucking real person.
With a glare you could feel penetrate through the golden, emotionless visor Tex continued. "He likes to hang around you, he's less of an-"
"Asshole?" You quipped.
"I was going to say absolute dumbass of a dick, but that works too if you want to be basic." She sighed, "Look, for some reason Church likes to hang around you. He rants, I hear him rambling and somehow cussing you out across the damn canyon. He's loud enough for even the dead to hear." *Ha, funny.*
"And this is supposed to make me blush?"
"I'm saying that whatever is going on between you, friends, you're screwing each other or whatnot. I'll find out what's happening with you, so watch your back." Bored with conversating over an Ex of hers, and whatever the hell kind of frequent one night stand hookup partner, The Bitch in Black sauntered away with the confidence that she was so sure of herself.
Once she had rounded around the base and was, hopefully, out of earshot, you wheezed hard. Lungs ached and trembled as a sharp pitched exhale left. Stabs of hot knives sliced at warm, soft, fleshy, sacs of skin that shrunk and grew behind your ribcage. The world blurred in watery colors, and small tears pricked and warmed your cheeks as they slipped down your skin. You didn't choke on petals, it felt fuller in your throat. The object bulged in your throat and tickled your trachea. Velvet petals, earthy tasting that made you gag and try to swallow whatever was temporarily blocking your air passage. You couldn't gag, couldn't possibly cough hard enough to even move the blockage more up to the back of your mouth. You were choking to death, and you were pretty sure you looked like an absolute mess or more while balancing in the brink of death.
With another choked gag, you fell to your knees on the dusty ground and then flung your whole body crashing down violently on the sun-baked ground in desperation. The sudden jarring and slam of your stomach on the floor, shoved the last few puffs of sweet oxygen and carbon dioxide gave the gentle shove of the object. Petals tickled your uvula, and you nearly clamped your mouth shut in repulsion. It wouldn't bug, no amount of even throwing up or coughing would make it move anymore. You'd have to shove your fingers down your throat to free your airflow yourself.
A trick, one stupid college tale your best friend told you before you shipped out for the military, was tucking your left thumb into your fist and squeeze. Strong, weak, or no gag reflex you couldn't give a damn. Not taking the chance to puke your guts out and more from just putting your fingers to the back of your throat was undesirable. Squeezing your eyes shut, your pointer and thumb of your right hand ventured into your mouth. Your lungs burned, and your body shook in rebellion from having another thing added to your mouth. It was easier to fully grab the petals that constantly brushed against your uvula, they didn't tear off as you slowly pulled whatever was choking you to death or unconsciousness.
Your left thumb popped in the ever-tightening grip of your fist as you retracted your hand from your mouth and pulled whatever you were holding between your pointer finger and thumb.
Air, precious, hot, sweet, cold, burning, dry air rushed and skimmed down your throat as you finally inhaled. Your passageway was clear, and you could breathe properly. You still trembled and shook with small gentle coughs that came from your oxygen-deprived deflated lung sacs.
Your eyes opened against the small tears that still flooded your pupils. With your hand now relaxed, it wiped your gaze clear and you finally turned to what was damp and hanging limply in your grasp.
Against the bright sunlight, you nearly let out a sharp gasp that stretched your already sore lungs to hurt even more. There color of periwinkle blue, with a bright golden center that was small and dusted with pollen. Pollen that dusted your lips and tasted like strong, musky Earth, and a sick, oddly sweet aftertaste inside your mouth. You couldn't tell the type of flower that was shining from the saliva that coated its once open spread petals. Thank god the single flower did not have a stem, it was just the head of the flower.
You never produced full flowers, let alone formed ones before. Small petals, large petals, oddly shaped or clumped together was what you had puked or coughed up for at least two or three days. Now your disease was progressing for the worst, and you weren't sure if your body could keep up. Eyes, wide as saucers you kept the soft flower in your fingers, too afraid to gently cradle it in your open palm. You had managed to push your weight up to your knees, then onto your feet slowly after a minute or two of gaining your strength.
Your feet carried you before you could even see where you were going. It's not like you needed to, you knew the ins and outs of this god damn canyon like the back of your hand. You mapped this desolate place since the first week you ever got stationed in the Blood Gulch Canyon. You were mindlessly walking fast, as fast as you could without tripping on the uneven ground. You were heading to Red Base, Doc could still be there. He didn't hang around Blue Base as much after Sarge claimed the purple medic as Red Team's own reluctantly. "Numbers over insubordination." was what Sarge always said, when he had begrudgingly allowed Doc to enter the Red Base that day of the exchange between Blue Team and Red Team. It was humiliating for Grif, and just sad for being desperate to get what Blue Team wanted the most.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Doc!" You nearly screamed as you stumbled into Red Team's Base, the flower still dangling and threatening to crumple in the tightening grip of your hand.
Your voice rang out and nearly caused Sarge to fire a warning shot near your head from the sudden panic that racked his body. He only had raised his shotgun at you, but how frail you looked and near on the edge of collapsing to the ground from exhaustion; he lowered his gun.
"What are you doing here? You Blue?" His gruff voice didn't stop as you merely cast the older man a brief look while venturing a little more into Red Base.
Sarge, Grif, and Simmons were all in the Base's kitchen. Random weapons were laid out and disassembled to be cleaned probably by Sarge and Simmons. Grif was scrounging around, opening cabinets and snooping around the crappy fridge for any type of food to snack on for probably the seventh time in the day.
"I- I need Doc, he's... he's supposed to see this." Your voice was quiet, trying to sound steadfast even though your breaths were sounding airy and wheeze like.
Your hand outstretched, the periwinkle colored flower was now dry and started to crumple its sad, wilted petals inward.
"A? flower?" Grif asked, his voice full of confusion as he looked at you long enough to take in your disheveled state that held the flower.
"It's not just a-" You exhaled tiredly, clearly not in the mood to spill the dirt of your disease to yet more people who had an even higher risk of accidentally blurting out your secret to Church.
Simmons was too honest, Grif would 'accidentally' give you away without even thinking about it, and Sarge would be more than happy to prove Church wrong if the male were to assume anything about you. Sarge would expose your secret in the process, and then somehow blame your Blue ways for having this disease in the first place.
"Just, where is Doc?"
"He's in his room down the hall." Grif scoffed before turning his attention to the fridge, his top half-hidden behind the dirty white fridge door.
"Grif! You can't just tell the enemy where our men are." Sarge scolded immediately, Grif only made a grunting noise before bending down further to reach towards the back of the fridge.
Before Sarge could make any more threats, or begin to even start to for that matter, you grabbed the withering flower and ventured further into their base. Sarge's voice was growing quieter the more you walked down the surprisingly long bedroom hallway. The army, the UNSC or Project Freelancer, must have thought a lot more people would be so willing to be stationed in the most desolate places with nothing to do but play a long game of capture the flag. Oh, how wrong the Army was to even waste money to even have that idea.
Finally, what you could guess was Doc's room. Especially since smooth jazz music was pouring out from behind the closed door, and you could even hear the cheery humming of the male with the calming beat. It felt bad for you to even knock on the steel door and interrupt whatever he was doing in his room, but you could say sorry later after you updated Doc about your disease. The volume of the music was lowered, and you could hear Doc say 'It's open!'.
"Doc?" You mumbled, once you tentatively opened his bedroom door.
Random posters of cheesy uplifting quotes, colorful little post-it's of self-esteem cheer up notes were plastered haphazardly among the posters that were glued to his walls. Typical Doc, for someone so bullied and teased from both teams, he managed to decorate his room the way he would want to make him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. He was hyping himself up every day, and that was the most precious thing you could witness. Not everyone here was in the mindset to think the way Doc thought about themselves. Doc could perhaps go crazy and yet some part of his mind was so hardwired in positivity, that he could still find good things to say about himself.
"Oh! I didn't expect to see you here!" Doc spoke up once he registered you were standing in his room. He smiled warmly, glasses that sat on his nose tilted slightly from the movement of his cheeks.
"Well I'm your only real patient right now with a life-threatening disease, I would think you would expect me." You could have winced at the dry joke you were forced to crack to not ruin the welcoming environment in his room. "Speaking of disease, Doc I have something to show you."
"Good or bad." The male rose his pointer finger to push the clear frames more upon his nose and plopped down on his bed to sit. His hands folded in his lap like a good listening student in elementary school. Except this was a sick version of show and tell in a fucked elementary school.
"Well.." Your hand outstretched and showed the other the flower in your hand.
It stunk of a now sickeningly sweet smell, even if it was wilting and sad looking now more than ever. The periwinkle blue colored remained bright and vibrant, but the very ends of the petals were turning into the brown color that signified its slow process of decay. The smell was new, but then again maybe it was just the stench of Red Base itself. Maybe either base smelt different, but that would be a dumb observation.
"It's a Morning Glory, its.. pretty?"
Your eyes widened from Doc's observation. "Doc, are you kidding? I've never produced whole ass flowers before! and you want to tell me the type of flower it is! Are you still fucking kidding?"
"You're right! You're right I couldn't help myself." Clearing his throat, Doc leaned forward and plucked the head of the flower from your open palm. He held the flower close to his eyes, nose wrinkling from the scent practically smacking him in the face from how nauseous it was making him feel.
"This is the first time you've ever produced right?" You nodded, and Doc hummed under his breath. One eyebrow cocked in question as he stared at the flower. Curious fingers pulled at the petals and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger, now and then making a noise of acknowledgment.
"Well, the disease is getting worse, it's progressing way faster than I thought it would. Good news, you won't choke on stems yet, just fully formed flower heads."
"That means?" You asked,
“It means you're well on your way to dying."
"Wha- Doc!"
"What? You asked."
You guffawed at the man who seemed stoic for once, he seemed so calm as a sudden rush of panic racked your brain and nearly left you screaming internally in your subconscious.
"Listen I'm serious when you need to actually talk to Church about this, or else this is going to be the end of you."
In the middle of you silently screaming and perhaps trying to hold together your sanity long enough to not break down screaming in front of Doc, in the Red Base no doubt. A third presence in the room made your spine curl inwards, and the acidic taste of sourness flooded your mouth.
"Tell me what?" Church asked when he materialized in the room, his see-through form that was hinted in the same color of the Morning Glory that was cradled tenderly in Doc's hand.
Now you had another reason to hate flowers, their colors reminded you of Church.
26 notes
·
View notes
Falling (Part 3)
Summary: Now that the season is over with and they’re on hiatus, the reader and Jensen decide to move in together...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Word Count: 1,400ish
Warnings: none
A/N: Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Seasons of Love - Bloom of Spring Challenge where my prompt was the gif above…
“Hey uber dork, what’s a pink label mean?” asked Jensen, holding up a box from the back of the moving truck.
“If you’d looked at the sheet I made you, you’d know,” you said, cocking your head, Jensen pursing his lips.
“I didn’t realize there’d be a test,” he said, walking down the ramp and setting it down in the driveway.
“It’s bathroom stuff. Hair brushes, hair dryer, curler, hair ties, makeup-”
“I get like 10% of the bathroom from now on, don’t I,” he said with a smirk.
“It’s one box,” you said, Jensen shrugging. “You have way more crap than I do.”
“No way,” he said, grabbing the box and walking through the front door, up the stairs and down the hall to the master, cutting into the bathroom and setting it down. “Look. My stuff. Your stuff...and you just got me to carry that upstairs for you didn’t you.”
“I can’t help if you’re gullible,” you teased, jogging out of there and down to the kitchen before he caught up with you. “Want to take a break?”
“Eh, let’s finish. There isn’t that much crap left,” he said, waddling the two of you back outside.
“Okay,” you said, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. You knew it’d be hot moving to Texas but you still weren’t prepared to be sweating 24/7.
“On second thought, why don’t you grab a drink and I’ll do a little more,” he said, patting your bottom back to the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” you said.
“Take five minutes. I made some lemonade this morning,” he said. He turned and headed back out through his front door, your front door, whistling as he went.
You’d been living together in Vancouver for about a month and when Jensen brought up you moving in with him in Austin now that hiatus had begun, it seemed like the next natural step in your relationship.
But even in Vancouver, it wasn’t like you spent all that much time in your apartments. You spent half the time at work, most of the rest traveling or sleeping. Just looking around at his house, your house you had to keep reminding yourself, was going to be a big change.
You’d been there plenty of times over the winter and early spring, knowing which cabinet had the glasses, which side of the fridge had the drinks, that you were safer to just grab ice straight from the freezer than tempt the possessed ice maker.
“Shit, that’s good,” you said when you took a sip of your drink. You poured one for Jensen, the glass sweating before you even got halfway down the driveway. You spun around, expecting him in the back of the truck but simply found a few boxes. “Where did you run off too...”
A giggle, much too tiny and adorable even for him, made your head spin to the left, a row of giant privacy hedges with a fence in there somewhere the only thing in sight.
“Riley...” you half-heard Jensen say. “Riley...”
You walked down to the end of the driveway and down the street a little ways, poking your head into the next yard to see Jensen pretending to play hide and seek behind a sapling with what looked like a four year old boy.
“I can see you!” he said, Jensen shaking his head.
“Nope, I’m hiding,” he said, the little boy running around and tagging Jensen’s leg. “You got super powers or something kid.”
“Hi there,” you said, Jensen spinning around with a grin. “Hi Riley.”
“Hi,” said the boy, staring up at Jensen.
“Riley, this is Y/N. She’s my girlfriend. She’s going to live with me from now on,” said Jensen, picking up the boy, throwing him on his shoulders. “Y/N, this is our neighbor, Riley. Mark, his dad, popped over and asked if I’d watch him for half an hour while he ran to the store.”
“That’s no problem,” you said, handing Jensen his glass.
An hour later after meeting the Joneses, Jensen was setting the last box down in the house, letting out a sigh.
“You have nice neighbors,” you said. “I thought they’d be...”
“Stuck up? This is a pretty good street. Everybody takes care of their house, if you need something, people help each other out. We have that good ole southern hospitality and all that,” he said.
“Well so far it seems like a good place to live,” you said.
“Well I hope you didn’t move here for the neighbors,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I was more interested in the roommate,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes.
“The roommate’s gonna want to hookup with you when he gets a shower in, just an fyi,” he said.
“Isn’t that a little fast, roomie?” you teased.
“You’re such a loser,” he said.
“Love you too,” you said. Jensen laughed as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, your phone going off somewhere in the house.
“Hm, I wonder what that could be...” he said, making a curious face.
“You’re up to something,” you said, wandering around and finding it on the couch, grabbing it on the last ring. “Hello...mhm...mhm...okay...okay...mhm...I’ll look at it later...thanks.”
“What was that?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.
“You know how they killed me off in the season finale? Turns out I’m coming back. Full season contract,” you said, Jensen holding a hand to his chest.
“That’s fantastic!” he said, giggling as you srunched up your face.
“How long have you known?” you asked.
“I knew nothing,” he teased, looking away guiltily. “Okay, I’ve known for a couple days but we were busy driving from LA and packing and all that. Plus I wanted you to know that I had no bearing on the decision.”
“None at all?” you asked, Jensen nodding his head.
“I had a preference for sure but I didn’t do anything,” he said. “You got it on your own.”
“Well I suppose I can live with working with you for another year,” you teased, your phone going off again. “Geez, I haven’t even read my email yet guys. Give a girl a minute.”
“Okay, now this call I actually have no idea on,” said Jensen, watching your face light up as you listened to the other end.
“Oh my...uh huh...uh huh...I can do that...uh huh...yes...Thursday? I can do Thursday...I can’t believe...I was nervous...yes...okay, thank you so much,” you said, Jensen more than curious. “Uh, so I, I sort of submitted a portfolio when I thought I got killed off for another job.”
“Your writing? That’s great,” said Jensen, face in a big grin.
“I submitted it to Singer,” you said, Jensen taking a step back. “They want me to be an associate writer on the show this year.”
“Really? That’s amazing!” said Jensen, lifting you up in a big hug.
“Yeah, they...they might even give me an episode to write in the second half of the year if the acting and the helping out everyone else isn’t too much for me,” you said.
“You’re officially moved in, two job offers today...screw the pizza and beer, I’m taking you out tonight to celebrate,” he said, hiking his hands under your legs, carrying you over to the stairs.
“Jay, it’s not that big of a deal,” you said with a blush. He carried you up anyways and sat you down in the bathroom, finding a box of your clothes in the room and cutting it open.
“Nope, it’s a huge deal. Now you wash up while I bring back the moving truck and when I get back home, I’ll clean up fast and take you downtown for the best dinner ever,” he said. “How’s that sound?”
“I’ll see you when you get home then, Jay,” you said with a smile.
“Now honey, that, I can get used to hearing.”
A/N: Part 4 coming summer 2018
@baconlover001 @jensenackesl @captainemwinchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @anokhi07 @akshi8278 @fandom--shipper
@zeusmyster @atc74 @aingealcethlenn @pillow223 @alilianamendez @dancingalone21 @smoothdogsgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @jaelami @roxyspearing @kickasscas67 @gallifreyansass @untitled39887 @charliebradbury1104 @quiddy-writes @arryn-nyxx @poukothenerd @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @idalinette @evyiione @jayankles @samisimportant @maddieburcham1 @demonic-meatball @hey-um-misha @flufy07 @its-not-a-tulpa @whit85-blog @mrswhozeewhatsis @extreme-supernatural-lover @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @spn-ficfanatic
239 notes
·
View notes
The Aftermath
Of all the men I hoped would become something special, the Army Boy I previously wrote about was highest on the list. We had history, we’d been friends since high school, so I thought I could trust him with such delicate emotions of mine. It was essentially like handing him a live grenade in which he pulled the pin, and threw at my feet at the last second. An absolutely massive mistake.
Basically, I spent an overwhelming amount of time daydreaming about him coming home and whisking me off of my feet, carrying me off to Texas and living happily ever after. Which was kind of overly romantic and foolish of me, but I did say I was a hopeless romantic in a previous entry.
I wrote this man for an entire summer after receiving his first love letter. I was writing him pages about how I missed him, how proud of him I was, what was going on with all of his friends back home, how I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around his neck and plant fat kisses all over the face that I loved so much.
I waited for replies that would never come after that. I checked the mail every single day, worried that my letters were never received by him. I worried that I had written the wrong address, or that my letters were being withheld from him as punishment for something he had done (which is very much in his nature, as someone who despises authority. God knows why he enlisted.)
There was no way someone that claims to love me, could do that to me deliberately, right?
As it turns out, he could have written me back that entire summer, but chose not to.
My phone rang with a facetime notification from him sometime around the very end of August. The excitement was palpable from me as I answered his call. He was fairly drunk at an airport bar, and informed me that he would be coming home by 11pm that night. I squealed with joy, I could finally see him and hold him in my arms.
“Am I going to see you tonight?” I asked. I knew his father would pick him up from the airport, but I didn’t know if Army Boy was going to want to sleep off his jetlag or not.
He evaded my question and talked about how he was going to the bar with his friends when he came back. Obviously, that was the wrong answer to my question. I can’t express how crushing it felt to be dreaming of this man all summer, only to have him brush me off when he got home.
I let it slide, he came home from the bar around 12am, and I picked him up from his fathers house around 1am.
I can’t express how good it felt to have him in my arms again in that moment. He smelled exactly how I remembered he did, a little like cigarettes, and Hollister’s “So Cal” cologne.
Weight essentially had melted off of him. He wasn’t as soft and cuddly as he used to be, hard muscle took over his body from rigorous hours of exercise. (Not that that was going to stop me from cuddling him.)
He lifted me off the ground and spun me around, burying his face in my neck and shoulder. I heard him inhale as deeply as he could, breathing me in. I never thought someone would miss the way that I smelled, but he must have - no matter what he says. He held my hand on the way back to my house, the car ride was quiet and country love songs quietly played over the Bluetooth.
When we got back to my place, he stripped down to his Army issued underwear, and I mocked him for wearing them. He crawled into bed beside me, and it was like nothing had happened. Like we had never been apart for an entire summer.
He kissed the top of my head, and wrapped his arm around me and tucked me against his side. We tangled our legs together, and surfed his Instagram, watching videos of a supra. The man loves foreign engineering.
He locked his phone and put it down on the floor and ran his fingers over the bare skin on my back, his hands warm and rough from work. I felt hot tears rush up into my eyes, I had been waiting for this moment all summer long. It felt like I had been waiting an eternity.
“Are you crying?”
“I’m trying not to.”
He gathered me up in his arms and held me tight to his chest. Wiping the corners of my eyes with his thumbs, kissing my forehead.
It’s this display that still confuses me. He treated me with such tenderness and what I would interpret as love, that what happened the next morning still makes my head spin.
We kissed and had some fairly rough sex, I was desperate to show him how much I had missed him. I must’ve scratched, bitten, and kissed almost every inch of him before we finished and cozied up together, naked, under the sheets.
I remember him saying he wanted it to last forever because it was too good, and he has missed being with me. He kissed every square inch of my skin. It felt like he was lighting me on fire.
I fell asleep knowing I would smell him on myself in the morning, he was all wrapped around me, asleep only as quickly as only a man could.
In the morning it was strange. Like, he had forgotten how softly he had kissed me and held me, like I wasn’t someone he had just expressed deep affection for.
We made breakfast, and he wasn’t kissing the back of my neck. He wasn’t grabbing my hips, or even being annoying like he usually did. He just sat back in roper jeans and cowboy boots, not making much eye contact at all. Not really speaking to me, even though I was poking fun at him as we always had done. Nose planted right into his phone.
He scarfed the pancakes I made, and I drove him home. He ignored me for a week, like I didn’t even matter. So, obviously, because I am like a dog with a bone, I chased him down and forced him to talk about his feelings. I don’t do that non-communicative garbage.
He said, and this is a direct quote; “I really love you...as a friend.” I made a very strangled sound in my throat.
“You don’t fuck your friends and send them love letters.” My palms were sweaty. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“Consider it ruined. Explain to me how you thought I was going to take that letter, after saying you had serious feelings for me and signed it “I love you”.”
He had nothing to say. I told him to go take a long walk off a short pier. We argued for the next four days, and he gave me empty apologies. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ sort of apologies.
I had been warned by several of our mutual friends that he was going to hurt my feelings. I wanted to believe that after so many years of being close, of knowing everything about each other, after being together through our highest highs and lowest lows...that somehow it would mean that I was awarded some sort of loyalty. That I would be treated better than some random girl he had just met. He knew me. We were best friends.
But apparently that doesn’t mean as much as I thought it did.
My summer came to a painful end. I stopped speaking to him, hanging out with him, and told our friends why I was no longer spending my time with him. It essentially fractured our entire friend group. We still haven’t gotten the closeness we once had, back. I imagine it is quite irreparably damaged.
I gave up on dating for a few months. I just drank a fair amount of alcohol and laid in my bed and cried. He would reach out to me every other day or so, apologizing, begging to be my friend again.
I would always decline, or lash out at him for breaking my heart. It wasn’t fair that he could do this to me and turn around and beg me for forgiveness.
After two months of only leaving my bedroom to work and shower, my friend downloaded tinder onto my phone again. He demanded I go get ‘some’ and get over this, if only to feel like myself again.
And I did. I’m not saying that random hookups to cope and getting the shit kicked out of you emotionally is a fun time, because it’s not. Well, the emotional beating isn’t, anyways. I find myself making big dreams and giving my soft heart to people that don’t deserve to hold it.
I’m not sure how I can fall in love and protect my squishy feelings at the same time. I grasp that love requires vulnerability. I’m not sure how to balance them both.
If I ever figure it out, it’ll probably be an accident.
0 notes
I don’t know about you, but I love a great Cowboy Romance. There is just something about these rugged men and the strong women who support them. Whether it’s in the historic Wild West, or on a present-day ranch in Texas, a good cowboy romance is hard to resist. And this coming fall, Berkley has three fantastic new stories (and cowboys) for you to fall in love with!
THE DEVIL ON THE SADDLE by Julia London
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia London brings readers a charming, sexy contemporary western, where a Texas princess learns that love may burn brightest for the devil who steps in your path…
No one cheats on a Prince and gets away with it. And Hallie–Texas socialite, would-be ballerina, and the only daughter of Cimarron County’s renowned Prince family–is ready to give her two-timing fiancée a piece of her mind. But fate plants hot, sexy ranch hand and ex-Army Ranger Rafael Fontana quite literally in her way. Her childhood friend is all grown up. He’s sexy, he’s handsome, and suddenly, after all these years, Hallie is taking notice.
Rafe has been in love with Hallie since they were kids, but he was always the help–and she was glamorous and popular, seemingly off-limits to a lowly cowboy. But now he’s back at Three Rivers Ranch to help his family and Hallie is there too–and she needs his support. Of course, Rafe agrees, but soon long-buried feelings boil to the surface, and the desire between them is hot and palpable and undeniable. Rafe realizes he wants Hallie for keeps… he just has to convince her to give true love another shot.
Series Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/series/255046-princes-of-texas
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Apple Books | Kobo
This book is up next for me! I haven’t had a chance to read it but I can’t wait!
SPUN OUT by Lorilei James
New York Times bestselling author Lorelei James returns for another wild ride in Wyoming with a new Blacktop Cowboys® novel.
Years in the Army equipped Bailey Masterson for many things: target shooting, rappelling off cliffs, dodging grenades. She’s lived through horrors that still give her nightmares. But nothing in Bailey’s life-or-death training prepared her for caring for the tiny terror that is five-year-old Olivia Hale. Or how to control her raging attraction to Olivia’s father, Streeter, the rugged, green-eyed cattle rancher who undermines her every move even when he stars in her dreams.
Streeter Hale has room for only two things in his life: his daughter and his job. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t get attached. Not anymore. So not only is Streeter stunned by Olivia’s improved behavior after just a few days with Bailey, he’s downright floored by his immediate attraction to the woman. But with secrets in her eyes and a body that doesn’t quit, Streeter begins to worry that Bailey Masterson might just be the one woman to heal his fractured family and broken heart.
One thing’s for sure–these two wrecked souls are spinning out of control as they desperately try not to fall in love…
SERIES GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/series/47701-blacktop-cowboys
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Apple Books | Kobo
BOOK EXCERPT
He’d hoped she’d fall asleep in the car, but the girl was wired. And she asked questions that even Google couldn’t answer.
If dinosaurs were the biggest animals, what scared them?
Who got to pick the names for all colors? What if blue should really be called orange?
Why do people skip rocks across the lake?
She asked him what he’d do if he saw a magical fairy in the forest (his answer to leave it be earned him a heavy sigh) and then she gave an explicit explanation of what she’d do: learn how to do its magic and become the queen of the world.
It was good to have goals.
By the time he’d unbuckled her from her car seat, she was asleep. Then she nestled her head on his shoulder as he carried her toward their trailer.
He loved these quiet times with her because they were becoming rare. Pretty soon she’d be too big to carry, or worse . . . she wouldn’t want to be carried.
That would break his heart.
He’d stopped to dig his keys out of his pocket when he heard a door close. He glanced down the walkway to see Bailey leaving her trailer with a duffel bag.
Was she headed to the gym this late?
Maybe she’d gotten a booty call.
No surprise she’d have no trouble finding a hookup.
Knock it off, perv.
Bailey paused when she reached him. “Do you need help?”
“Nah, I got it. But thanks.” He turned the key in the lock before looking at her again. “You’re out late.” Way to sound accusatory.
“I missed my workout this morning.” She gave him a once-over. “You’re out late yourself.”
“We had supper with my brother and his family. That’s why we left the pool, uh . . . like we did.”
She cocked her head. “Really? You suddenly remembered you had dinner plans during the middle of our conversation?”
They studied each other for a moment.
Somehow he found the guts to say, “No.”
“Okay. That’s progress. Tell me . . . did I say something to offend you?”
“Nope. I just . . .” Don’t know how to act around you.
“You just . . . what? My friendliness annoyed you because you have enough friends?”
“God, no. That’s not it. Not even close.”
“Then what?”
He leaned in. “This right here is what it is. Surely you’ve noticed I’m no good at small talk.” He shifted Olivia higher. “I ain’t so hot at big talk either.”
She laughed softly. “I know you’re not trying to be funny, but—”
“But you’re laughin’ at me.”
“Not at you, Streeter. I’m laughing because usually I’m the one who’s awkward.”
“I doubt that.”
“You’ve probably noticed that I tend to come on strong.”
“You? Nah.”
She laughed again. “Maybe you’re just out of practice with small talk.”
“Yeah, well, cattle ain’t much on talkin’ back.”
“See? You are funny.”
Her grin widened and he saw she had a tiny dimple on the right side of her smile. How hadn’t he noticed that sexy little divot before now?
When she continued to smile without speaking, he said, “What?”
“Nothing. I just like seeing you like this.”
“Like what? Fumblin’ my words like a tongue-tied fool?”
“No, I like that you’re not trying to get away from me.”
He blinked at her and kept his mouth shut.
“Plus, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Cute? “Jesus. No one has called me cute since junior high.”
“Then maybe it’s past time you heard it. You’re very cute, Streeter Hale, and I’m crushing on you big-time.”
His jaw might’ve hit the top of Olivia’s head when it dropped.
“I’m not good at small talk either. I’m more a cut-to-the-chase kinda chick.”
“Good to know.”
She bumped him with her hip as she walked past. “Sweet dreams, cutie. See ya around.”
MY THOUGHTS
Streeter Hale is just trying to survive. It’s been almost 5 years since his wife died. Trying to raise a child who witnessed her mother’s death even though she was really too young to remember and has detachment issues, isn’t the easiest life. So when Seargent Bailey Masterson moves into the trailer next to him and ends up running a boot camp at the ranch for all the employee’s kids, he doesn’t know what to think of her at first. That is except she is sexy as hell and he doesn’t know how to approach her.
Street hasn’t been in a relationship in years. And before that, he was only with one woman. So his experience is pretty much nil. Bailey is trying to figure out what’s next in her life. She’s spending the summer helping out her sister and keeping some secrets of her own. But after meeting the sexy Street Hale – she doesn’t see why she can’t lose herself in the sexy cowboy for the summer. Since that’s all she can commit too.
This book is super steamy and sexy. The storyline is one that will tug at your heart. Single Dad who is just trying to make it the best way he knows how and love a little girl who’s been damaged by a mother she doesn’t even know. Bailey is the right fit for both Street and his daughter but can she forgive her own past in order to have a future with Street.
LOVE THIS BOOK! And this entire series is one of my all-time favorites.
BOUND FOR GLORY by Tess Lesue
Coming December 3rd
An unwilling legend and the woman who made him one face off in this epic conclusion to the Frontiers of the Heart series.
He has many names. They call him Deathrider, White Wolf, The Plague of the West. He’s the ice-eyed killer of the plains; the ghost of the trail; the restless spirit who haunts the frontier from California to Missouri, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. They say he seeks vengeance for his murdered people; they say he never sleeps; they say he moves silently through the night and changes form to run with the wolves. And that he is as beautiful as Lucifer.
At least, so they say. Ava Archer wouldn’t know; she’s never seen him. But that doesn’t stop her from writing about him. The Plague of the West is her bread and butter, and after more than a dozen dime novels, she thinks she probably knows Deathrider better than he knows himself, even if she wouldn’t recognize him on the street. If only rumors of his death would stop getting in the way of a good story….
Those damn stories make Nathaniel Rides With Death’s life an absolute misery. Thanks to his unwanted notoriety, he’s hunted like an animal by an endless stream of gunslingers looking to make a name for themselves. When someone close to Nate is shot by one of the gunslingers, Nate decides it’s time to hunt down the novelist at the root of all his troubles. He has a plan to end this farce once and for all….
SERIES GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/series/221992-frontiers-of-the-heart
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Apple Books | Kobo
BOOK EXCERPT
There was a naked man in the desert.
Ava Archer knew trouble when she saw it, and this was trouble with a capital T. She was alone in the desert, her horse was played out, her canteen was bone-dry, and she was out of bullets. This was no time to be running into natives. Even a solitary one. If she had any sense at all, she would turn right around and run in the other direction . . . but Kennedy Voss was in the other direction, and Kennedy Voss was a mean son of a bitch. Besides, she was desperate for water, and maybe this Indian had some.
She’d thought she’d known thirst before—but this was something else again. She felt made of grit and sand, her every pore a desert in miniature, her tongue thick and swollen in her cottony mouth; even her eyes and nose had dried out. And every thud of her horse’s hooves on the ground made a drumbeat: Water. Water. Water. Water.
So Ava kept on toward the man, pulled by the hope of water. As she plodded closer, she reassured herself that at least there was only one of him, and from what she could see, he was in bad shape: he was squatting under the screamingly bright September sun, naked from the waist up, his body a patchwork of bruises, and both of his eyes swollen shut. Ava doubted he could see her. But he knew she was there, because he rose to his feet at the sound of her tired horse dragging his way.
Oh dear. He wasn’t mostly naked, she saw as he stood: he was completely naked. He was also tall, wide, and terrifyingly powerful. A warrior. He was the color of rosewood, his muscles as hard as if he’d been carved from a tree. And he was covered in tattoos, including a sprawling, intricate pattern in the shape of a bird, which stretched its wings the breadth of his thickly muscled chest. His hair was long, loose, and coated in dust; it fell down his back in tangles to his shoulder blades. He was bruised all over, she realized as her gaze drifted down, wincing as she took in the black blotches on his legs. There was a particularly nasty one on his hip, right next to . . .
Ava tore her gaze away. Hell. She was alone in the desert with a naked man. A big, powerful, wounded naked man. And she was heat struck and ill with thirst, barely able to think straight.
She couldn’t have stumbled onto a little old lady instead? Or a nice family, with a pack of kids? A pack of kids and an icy-cold barrel of water . . .
Ava rubbed her hand across her dry mouth. She felt skin flakes come away on her fingers and winced. She needed to get hold of herself. She was growing delirious. This here was just an injured man. Probably an Apache, considering she was somewhere near the Apacheria. Probably. Maybe. Who knew where the hell she was, to be honest. Purgatory seemed likely. Little old ladies and nice families didn’t go wandering around Purgatory—this was the best she could hope for. She should have been grateful that he was just one beat-up Apache and not a whole party. And at least he wasn’t Kennedy Voss. Without even realizing she was doing it, she glanced over her shoulder, as though thinking about Voss might summon him. That man gave her the willies. Voss was likely to be somewhere nearby (she hadn’t had that much of a head start on him), and here she was about to die of thirst right in his path. She didn’t have time to be distracted by naked strangers.
Make sure to add these beauties to your TBR list!
A Cowboy Romance Roundup - @BerkleyRomance My Review of Spun Out by @LoreleiJames Plus Books from @JuliaFLondon and @TessLesue I don't know about you, but I love a great Cowboy Romance. There is just something about these rugged men and the strong women who support them.
0 notes
Meth hookup New Braunfels Texas
I so spun out my mind I need a tweaker fuck buddy. Any ladies in New Braunfels Texas that is willing to be my friend and c ok me blow some ☁️ with me?
0 notes
After 7,000-mile odyssey, Kymeta’s satellite tv for pc related automobile comes dwelling
New Post has been published on https://takenews.net/after-7000-mile-odyssey-kymetas-satellite-tv-for-pc-related-automobile-comes-dwelling/
After 7,000-mile odyssey, Kymeta’s satellite tv for pc related automobile comes dwelling
REDMOND, Wash. — Kymeta Corp.’s Toyota RAV4 sport utility automobile and the flat-panel satellite tv for pc antenna on its roof are again on the firm’s headquarters after a 7,000-mile take a look at drive throughout America, and few persons are extra relieved than Benjamin Ash.
“I’ve by no means seen something getting back from being out within the discipline that lengthy,” Ash, who’s Kymeta’s director of producing engineering, stated after inspecting the stop-sign-sized panel. “I assumed it was going to be a lot worse.”
Ash and a couple of dozen of his fellow Kymeta workers gathered in Kymeta’s car parking zone in the present day to have fun the automobile’s return to its Redmond headquarters after a two-week, coast-to-coast odyssey.
The trek served as Kymeta’s beta take a look at for a brand new cell satellite tv for pc web service referred to as Kalo, supplied in partnership with the Intelsat satellite tv for pc community. Kalo is the centerpiece service providing from Kymeta, which was spun out from Mental Ventures in 2012 with backing from Microsoft co-founder Invoice Gates and different high-profile buyers.
David Fotheringham, product supervisor for Kymeta’s connected-car effort, drove the Kalo-enabled automobile all the way in which from Washington, D.C., all the way down to the Florida Keys, again as much as Chicago, westward via Texas, the Southwest and California, after which up via Portland to Redmond on Sunday.
Because of the satellite tv for pc connection, Fotheringham may connect with the web in sudden locations, together with hurricane-hit areas of Key West.
“It was fairly apparent immediately that there have been main issues they have been coping with there … answer like this might present quick worth,” he instructed GeekWire throughout a drive-around in Redmond. “We may very well be on the market proper now, serving to them with their connectivity points.”
That’s precisely what Kymeta and its companions are doing in Puerto Rico and Dominica, because of a fleet of antenna-equipped automobiles which might be offering primary web companies for aid businesses on these storm-ravaged islands.
The advantages of satellite tv for pc service for first responders received an excellent earlier demonstration when Kymeta despatched its antenna-equipped RAV4 to Greenville, S.C., to beef up information protection throughout August’s complete photo voltaic eclipse.
Emergency response is simply one of many potential functions for connected-car expertise. Satellite tv for pc connectivity may grow to be a beautiful choice for ubiquitous telephone and information entry out of your automobile (together with video for the children driving within the again seat). And a few specialists say it’ll be an absolute necessity for totally autonomous automobiles that require 100 p.c reliability.
However in the present day’s drive-around demonstrated that related vehicles aren’t but totally prepared for prime time. That’s not as a result of there’s something mistaken with the antenna. It’s as a result of cell satellite tv for pc reception isn’t but a completely certain factor.
Once we had a transparent shot at Intelsat’s spacecraft in geostationary orbit, we may sit within the again seat and watch YouTube clips on a pill display, or make Skype telephone calls through satellite tv for pc from our smartphone. However when the sign was blocked by buildings or bushes, all we may get have been spinning circles on the display.
“In the event you’re in a closely tree-lined space, then yeah, you’re going to have blockages that forestall connectivity,” Fotheringham stated.
There’s additionally the throughput difficulty: Fotheringham stated that Kymeta’s antenna is able to supporting information speeds of greater than 100 megabits per second. Nonetheless, in the present day’s satellite tv for pc hyperlinks sometimes restrict the throughput to five to 10 Mbps for downloads and 1 to 2 Mbps for uploads.
Fotheringham stated all that’s anticipated to vary as soon as web satellite tv for pc constellations get established in low Earth orbit, or LEO. Getting a robust sign ought to be much less of a problem, throughput speeds ought to be greater, and the lag time for sign transmission ought to be diminished from in the present day’s 500- to 800 milliseconds of latency to a stage corresponding to conventional cellphone service.
SpaceX, OneWeb and LeoSat are among the many corporations growing LEO constellations, with an eye fixed towards beginning service round 2020. Fotheringham stated any of these corporations may make use of Kymeta’s antenna functionality. For what it’s price, Intelsat has a partnership with OneWeb in addition to Kymeta, which hints at how Kalo may evolve within the years forward.
In actuality, related vehicles — and the cell gadgets that reap the benefits of these vehicles’ connections — are prone to change seamlessly between several types of hookups as soon as carmakers begin constructing antennas into the roof. Drivers and passengers gained’t essentially know whether or not their automobile is getting its web through LTE or 5G cell service, LEO or GEO satellites, or plain outdated WiFi in the remainder space.
“We’re not taking a look at this as a alternative for LTE,” Fotheringham stated. “I see this as a part of a hybridized 5G community. This turns into a merged area, so you may have both satellite tv for pc or LTE, relying on the place you’re and what’s out there to you. … I don’t suppose individuals really wish to care about, ‘Is their web coming from satellite tv for pc or terrestrial?’ They only need it to work.”
Now that the “Kalo Trek Throughout America” is completed, the take a look at antenna can be faraway from the roof, and the SUV that Fotheringham drove throughout the nation will revert to being simply one other automobile. However this isn’t the top of Kymeta’s odysseys.
Ash stated that the stop-sign-sized antenna is “three generations behind the place we are actually,” and that Kymeta is already engaged on flat-panel antennas which might be lower than a 3rd as huge. “Each single time we drop the radius of the aperture, we’re going to wish to do that once more,” he stated.
Street journey! Subsequent time, we’re calling shotgun.
0 notes