#anyway i snapped at my partner for reminding me to take my meds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chews-erotically · 4 years ago

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Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Angst/violence/gore/blood/mentions of prostitution/SMUT(eventual)/veryinaccuratesurgicalprocedure

Honestly words have been fermenting in my brain for many moons. I am new to this, so please be gentle. I have written before, however never for a fandom. Special thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @rzrcst for their support and encouragement, it truly means the world to me.

Summary: You are a nurse on the Green moon contracted to care for a group of prospectors. An act of violence forces you to flee your camp. Ezra finds you.

Words: 2376

PART ONE

The first time Ezra fell, it was with the Saters. You’d been hunched in a cordoned-off section of tent, dust motes waxing and waning against the haze of thick, dank air. At least you could breathe, a small mercy it was to remove your helmets and sit unfettered in the musty inner folds of the makeshift barracks.

The Sater stank. When he sneered at you, his grey lips parted to reveal the jagged tombstones of his teeth. When you had first sat down and dispelled with the perfunctory greetings, choking down the offering of what always reminded you of unsweetened Turkish coffee mixed with engine oil, his eyes made no attempt to hide the way they had raked over you as if you were some shiny toy. Or a bag of meat. You were under no delusions when it came to the fact that you, by nature of being female, were going to be ogled. Still, it left you no less disgusted as you fought to keep your face impassive while his eyes honed in on your chest.

Ezra sat beside you on the narrow bench, hunched forward with forearms balanced on knees that were spread to allow for his head to clear the sunken canvas ceiling. His expression was equally neutral, the only hint of tension showing in the tight bunch of muscle at his jaw. He knew as well as you that if the sater did not accept the barter, things would turn dark.

Ezra had been here longer than you. Stranded with no transport after the crew he’d arrived with turned on each other over dig locations and payload disbursement. The pod they’d arrived in had been burned, irreparably damaged and left no more than a husk in the Green due to the short-sighted fury and bullheaded ire of his hired compatriots. In the fracas, he’d sustained an injury to his right arm from a rogue thrower shot. In retrospect it could have been much worse, but the spores of mold that made the air so toxic had worked its way into his flesh the same way selfishness and suspicion had seeded the demise of his partners.

You were hired as a nurse to tend to your own hired prospecting crew, lured in with promises of adventure and treasures beyond your wildest dreams. You had known there had to be a catch, you were not so naive to believe that consequence could elude you, but you had signed the contract anyway hoping for more than the dreary clinic you’d worked in for the past five years. You were alone, you were lonely, you had no family. Your few friends had steadily drifted away from you as they met their own partners, started their own families. You were left to the ether. So you signed almost without thought when the recruiter came, signed before you had time to think it through, because you were aware that if you thought too much you’d talk yourself out of it. You knew all too well how adept you were at talking yourself out of things.

So, you’d arrived on the Green and things had proceeded as planned, uneventful for the most part. The others on the crew were respectful, if a bit distant. Nothing untoward had happened until a contractor by the name of Jorin began to take a particular interest in you. At first you’d been able to politely deflect his advances. Showing up in your tent unannounced, he feigned all manner of illness and injury to get your attention. Over time he became more aggressive, invading your space until you had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. It was not until he’d followed you back to your cot and tried to push you down that you’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to kill him, but the scalpel you had hidden in your fist had found its way to his carotid artery nonetheless. So you left, and you were blank and in shock and covered in someone else’s blood when Ezra found you.

He’d stood, imposing and straight-backed, hand on hip while his head followed your shambling approach. Your adrenaline was waning, and you shuffled forth on trembling legs, hands held aloft in supplication. When you reached his clearing in the midst of dense vegetation you noted his mouth moving at light-speed, the hand on his hip twitching toward the thrower he had slung across his back. As you got even closer you noticed his eyes were wide. You were not on the same transmission channel so you could not hear him. Your hands gestured as if underwater, left hand tapping your transceiver while your right held up three trembling fingers. When Ezra understood he switched the channel and immediately his animated drawl was filling your helmet.

“.....cannot fathom how you are standing in my sights looking like you’ve been baptised by Lady Bathory herself, alone? Please do tell this lonely old prospector how in Kevva’s name above you’ve found yourself in such a state of affairs?”

You noticed immediately that he did not seem at all frightened or wary of your appearance, just confused, and….excited? You gazed up into the visor through a constellation of blood spatter and freed your tongue from its bone-dry cavern, swallowing thickly.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. He tried to, to…..he came after me.”

Ezra stepped forward in what seemed a conspiratory move. You froze. Taking note, he’d immediately stepped back, but his dark eyes fastened to yours with an intensity that made you feel as though he could see through you into your very essence, every shameful childhood memory, every flaw and triumph as readable as prose on paper.

“Intention rarely informs the realities of snuffing out the flame of mortality. Between intention and action there lay an endless array of variables, something I know as well as my own name. In all my time on the Green the one thing that continues to ring true is that people here take. If you have nothing to offer, they will find something to take.”

He straightened before continuing, “Given that you are appreciably female I can imagine what it is he believed himself entitled to. You have none of that to fear from me, little stranger. I am but one lost soul amongst this verdant hellscape.”

You were still processing the events of the past several hours, and it took you some time to accustom your ears to the man’s mellifluous cadence. The people in your previous company had been stilted, blunt, mostly monosyllabic. This man before you spoke as if convinced his words would alight and manifest whatever sacred force or unimagined color the universe deemed fit to spew forth. It was incongruous. You considered your next words carefully before you spoke.

“Do you have a dwelling? A tent? I hate to impose, but this is my only suit and I’d like to get as much blood out of it as I can.”

That was how you’d become acquainted with Ezra. You’d exchanged names as you walked to his tent, and all the while Ezra pontificated. The tent was modest, two cots arranged across from one another. Equipment stacked along one canvas wall, while texts and notebooks spread across a folding table toward the front entrance. Ezra explained where the water source was located as you both disconnected your helmets and stripped your suits. The blood splashed across yours had dried to a dull rust. Almost as if it could be something other than blood. Almost.

You’d set the suit to soak in cold water and truly noticed the man in front of you for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, thick locks jutting chaotically from the dome of his head and curling around the lobes of his ears. A shock of blond colored the seam of his hairline. His brow was lined with years of tension and unrest. Wide, dark eyes below pronounced brows. A prominent aquiline nose. His mouth, still moving. Always moving, as if he were trying to get every thought he had out of his head before the hourglass ran out on him.

Your eyes were next drawn to a dirty bandage circling his arm. You’d been so lost in your head over the strange turn of events that you did not notice the barely perceptible wince as he inventoried what appeared to be dried ration packets.

“What happened? To your arm, I mean?”

Ezra sighed deeply before answering. “Merely a flesh wound from an errant thrower blast while my crew and I were in the midst of parting ways. It was a most unsavory affair, I’m afraid. I don’t believe the weasel wielding the staff even meant to shoot me.”

You stepped closer, eyeing the torn, worried cloth. “You have to be careful. The spores in the air will seep into everything, especially an open wound. Your bandage is filthy. Do you mind if I take a look?”

“You have experience with dressing wounds?”

“I’m a nurse.”

You were wholly unprepared for the brilliant smile that split his face. Suddenly you could see the younger, roguish man that he had undoubtedly once been. You were suddenly overwhelmed, you could not understand how the heart in your chest fluttered as desperately as a bird beating its wings against the cage of your ribs. You felt close to panic as you realized that you were reacting this way to a man you did not know.

Careful.

“Kevva above, I must have done something right in a past life as I’ve done nothing in this one to deserve such a fortuitous gift! A nurse! An angel of mercy, a dove of benevolence!”

You felt heat rush to your face, and you cursed your feeble emotions as you turned quickly away from him. Please, ignore my abject idiocy.

“Med kit?”

“Ah, of course. My apologies, Dove, I forget myself.”

You pointedly ignored the unprompted endearment as any further contemplation on this new development would lead to literal hysteria. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Ezra sat at the table near the entrance, sweeping the array of notebooks and papers to the side. You pulled up a crate once taking the med kit and unwrapped the soiled bandaging. You understood how awkward it had to be to dress a wound with one hand, and so you were able to forgive the haphazard application. He hissed and winced again as you revealed a very red, open and angry wound bed assaulting the meat of his right bicep. Black had begun to settle in around the ragged edges. It did not look good. Your gut sank as you noticed the purplish pucker of skin surrounding a crater that oozed and tunneled, purulent drainage saturating the underlying gauze.

The mold had done a spectacular job of decaying what would have normally been a straight forward traumatic thrower wound. You were shocked that Ezra was not screaming in pain.

You kept your face studiously blank as you set out supplies: a vial of Ancef, sterile saline, bandaging, gauze, antimicrobial foam, hydrogen peroxide, a basin, and the scalpel you’d kept clutched in your fist as you’d fled. There was an injectable narcotic preloaded, you offered this to Ezra and he shook his head, his eyes still and worried. He knew it was bad, and he was scared. A wave of melancholy slammed into you and without thinking, you reached out and laid your fingers gently on his wrist.

“Hey.” He met your eyes, and they were old. Ancient, and filled with what was akin to an existential weariness. You had to dig the toe of your boot into your calf to keep your eyes from filling with tears. You cleared your throat. It did not sound like a noise you’d make. You wondered who you were, really, before speaking.

“I’m going to do the best that I can. It won’t be pretty. Your wound is badly infected. The black bits are necrotic, and if I don’t debride your wound it will spread. I’m going to try my hardest to save your arm. This is going to hurt, so I really think you should take the injection.”

Ezra’s solemn gaze swung to fasten on yours. After a pause of internal debate, he simply nodded. You filled the basin with hydrogen peroxide and placed the scalpel in. You picked up the preloaded syringe and sterile gauze and quickly discharged the narcotic serum into Ezra’s left deltoid. His eyes soon took on a haze of detachment, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

You picked up the scalpel and got to work, and Ezra finally screamed.

He kept his arm impressively still while sweat cut rivulets down the planes of his face. His jaw clenched so tightly you feared his teeth would crack and splinter- you’d finally and wordlessly paused your work to place a length of spare leather strapping between his teeth, which he clamped onto like a feral dog.

You worked quickly and wordlessly, cutting ribbons of spoiled flesh from the blessedly granulating bed of tissue and muscle beneath. Your mind worked in circular prayer, asking forgiveness from the universe for killing, for hurting. Ezra’s flesh was a sacred scroll and you were inscribing your texts upon it, begging for deliverance. It was not lost on you that the same scalpel you’d used to snuff one life was carving death out of another.

When the deed was done, you reconstituted the Ancef and injected it into the meat of his buttock. You did it quickly, too wrung out and disturbed to feel impure. There was nothing prurient about what had just happened, nothing sexy in his agony. For all of its intimacy it was brutal and ugly and traumatic. At that moment you were inextricably bound to one another.

#Ezra Ezra Prospect

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bestintheparsec · 4 years ago

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The Same Coin - Part 1

Prologue | Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: Thank y’all so much for the nice comments on this new series! This picks up shortly after the prologue. I had to hold back a lot for this chapter because pining is not allowed yet - patience😌 I hope you enjoy, and as always feedback is welcome!❤️

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: some mentions of violence, angst (but not the Yearning kind yet)

You’ve just finished getting ready to start the day when you hear three loud knocks at your door. Hurriedly buttoning up your blouse, you go answer it and find Steve standing outside with his hands on his hips.

“Peña’s out of the hospital and back home now,” he informs you.

You briefly remember the scene from a couple days ago. He’d been fine, of course, just bleeding out and unable to stand. A local helped you call an ambulance while you got Peña upright and put pressure to the wound. Much like he always did, he spent a bit of time swearing under his breath when he claimed you were making too much of a fuss over it. You had to drive the Jeep back, so he went off to the hospital on his own once the paramedics arrived. You made sure he was going to be okay before you left him, and Steve went to visit him so you assumed he was recovering.

“Okay,” you comment. This couldn’t wait? “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be off work and on crutches for a few weeks,” he answers. He looks down at the floor before looking back up at you.

“What is it?” you ask suspiciously.

“They...put us in charge of watching over him until he’s back at work. Mostly you.” He mutters the last part, and you raise your brows.

“What? Why me?” you ask, confused.

“You’re the one who lives next door to him,” Steve answers, matter-of-factly. He and Connie live a couple floors above you, so logistically he’s right. But that doesn’t mean you want to be his personal nurse.

“Yeah, but—” you start to say, a little louder.

“It’ll be fine,” he insists, patting you on the shoulder. “You just need to check in every now and then and make sure he’s getting some food and water in him.”

Steve grabs your hand and slips a key into it. “I’ll come by too, but you’ll be able to hear if he falls or something at night, right?”

At that, you can’t help but chuckle dryly. Yeah, you can hear plenty, alright.

After work, you drive back home and feel the tension leave your muscles once you step into the apartment complex. Work was uneventful, without any new leads or intel. Mostly it was just you and Steve poring over mindless paperwork. As expected, you’d gotten quite the scolding from the colonel and Messina today. This was nothing new; not with Peña for a partner. But it was the first time he’d gotten himself hurt in one of his schemes, which didn’t look good on either of your parts. You didn’t feel like hashing it out with them, so you took your warning and left, opting to chide Peña on it on your own time.

Steve had gone out with Connie after leaving today, so it’s on you to check on Peña first. The heels on your shoes clack as you make your way down the dim hallway to his door. He should still be fresh off the IV painkillers from the hospital, so he probably won’t be awake to answer. You pull out the key Steve gave you and unlock it, the cool air greeting you as you enter his flat.

It’s not your first time in his apartment. You and Steve have often had late nights here, working on some new lead after hours. Only a lamp's faded light is on, but you hear rustling inside.

“Peña,” you call out. You find him in the kitchen, trying to heat something up in the microwave while leaning on his crutches. His hair is tousled and messy, and he's in a t-shirt and loose pants—a surprising sight and a stark contrast from his usual attire. He greets you with only a glance. You almost ask how he’s feeling but the cold gesture makes you decide against doing so.

You hold up the paper bag in your hand. “Steve picked up your painkillers,” you tell him, putting it on the counter.

“No need to knock before you enter,” he remarks sarcastically, pulling his food out of the microwave.

You roll your eyes, figuring he’d be in a bad mood. “You’re supposed to be in bed. Doctor’s orders. And you’re welcome,” you counter. How does he manage to be insufferable even when fully medicated?

“You really always go by-the-book, don’t you?” he clips, the sound of his crutches clanking on the tile as he walks over to you. Jesus, Javier thinks to himself. He already has to deal with you at work, and now he has to deal with this in his own home, too?

“The hole in your leg says otherwise, although I wouldn’t say that’s my fault,” you answer tersely.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Messina seems to have made you and Murphy my punishment,” he grumbles.

You purse your lips. “Believe me, this thrills me, too, Peña. But I can’t have you collapsing on me anymore,” you say, which catches his eye. “I’ll get in trouble again,” you add, and he smirks at that.

“Ever the caring partner,” he huffs, though he’s mildly amused. He looks you up and down for the first time since you came in. He notices how you’re playing with the fabric of your shirt; another habit you have, typically when frustrated. Javier hates that he knows this, attributing it to how much all three of you are around each other. You see each other around the clock, so it’s impossible not to pick up on the little things. For a moment he ponders what you might have picked up about him—not that what you think of him matters.

You ignore the sarcasm in his voice, eyeing the box of bandages and bottles of antiseptic on the counter. In all honesty, you’re not sure how well he’s dressing his own wounds; he probably gives them a quick swipe and calls it a day. “Do you...need help changing your bandages? I know how to clean them—”

“No,” he cuts you off.

“Okay, well if you need me to get anything—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts again. “So unless you want to help me shower…” he says, sneering at the face you make.

“Yeah, I’m not sure even Steve will help you with that,” you wave a hand dismissively.

“Anyways, these meds should knock you out for a while,” you continue, changing the topic. “Which means I can get some quiet on the other side of your wall, for once.” You're only partially joking, but Javier doesn’t miss the mild embarrassment in your eyes. He chuckles without humor, but doesn’t respond.

A moment passes before you speak again and readjust the bag on your shoulder. “Get some rest, Peña,” you instruct. With that, you head back out the door as he watches you leave.

He sighs deeply, running a free hand through his hair. Why can't Murphy be the one who lives next door?

You continue to alternate check-ins with Steve daily, always trying to come during evenings, when Peña’s more likely to be awake. The visits are brief and somewhat civil, although they usually involve you nagging him about one thing or another and getting snippy comments in response. Really, you know he’s a grown man and all, but even when injured he’s not terribly careful.

It’s not his fault his place is getting messier—he’s not fully mobile—but his flat is usually decently tidy, most likely for his “guests”. Now the place is covered in half-empty glasses and bottles of liquor, along with random things strewn haphazardly on the floor. You’ve told him often that the papers spilling across the floor are a safety hazard for him, but he brushes you off every time.

“You’re not on the job right now, you don’t need to be an asshole,” you tell him.

“You’re not at the office now either, lighten up a little,” he rebuffs.

Javier swears that if he hears you remind him to drink more water or be more careful one more time, he’s going to lose it. He tells you as much, but you’re never able to get through to each other. It’s always been like this as partners; of course it’s no different when you’re off the clock.

You seem to be under the impression that he’s impulsive; maybe he is, and maybe he’s not proud of everything he’s ever done. But Escobar plays the game according to his own rules—playing it safe only puts more people in harm’s way. Sooner or later you might understand, but until then he’s not going to wait around worrying until you do.

One night, you’re met with the sight of him, shirtless, sitting on the couch. He’s smoking a cigarette and barely looks up as you enter and walk towards him.

“Steve and Connie went grocery shopping and wanted me to bring you some stuff,” you tell him as you unload the plastic bags you’re carrying. “Looks like you’ve got some snacks and instant dinners to hold you over.”

“Thanks,” Peña answers, and you're almost taken aback by the tiny bit of politeness.

He picks up the prescription bottle on the coffee table and uncaps it, shaking a pill out onto his hand before picking up his glass.

You look across the room at him and frown. “Are you taking your meds with alcohol?” you ask, probably louder than necessary.

You walk over and forcibly remove the glass in his hand, replacing it with the water bottle from your bag. He looks up at you, annoyed at your snatching of his drink. “Jesus, Peña, don’t you know anything? Are you trying to get yourself back into the hospital?”

He responds by muttering something under his breath before throwing the pill back and downing it with the water.

“You know, me and Steve would have to come over a lot less if you took better care of yourself.”

“I don’t need you mother-henning me in the first place,” he retorts. “It’s a fucking leg wound, not something that’s gonna kill me.”

“That’s exactly what I thought, too,” you snap back. “Unfortunately for both of us, our bosses think otherwise.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for this,” he tells you, shaking his head. God, you’re infuriating.

“No? Neither did I,” you quip. “Fuck, Peña, do you not—I'm just trying to help.”

He exhales and puts the cigarette to his lips again, leaning back against the couch. You dig around in your bag for a granola bar and shove it in his direction.

“Do yourself a favor and eat something, or those meds aren’t going to sit right.” He groans but takes it, and you turn on your heels to leave.

Except, Javier never misses anything; especially not the way the thin fabric of your sleeve slides up on your skin as you hand it to him, revealing a sliver of something white on your arm.

He abruptly grabs your wrist, gently but it still takes you by surprise. “Wait,” he mutters in a low voice, stopping you mid-step. He turns your arm over, not making eye contact as he pushes the loose fabric of your sweater upwards, revealing the large white bandages that are covering the back of your arm, near your elbow. He can’t see the damage underneath, but his mouth presses into a hard line.

You bite the inside of your cheek as he examines it for a few seconds before you pull your arm away from his hand.

“I thought you and Murphy haven’t been in the field recently,” he whispers, his tone suddenly much softer than it was moments earlier.

“We haven’t,” you reply quietly. You know he’s not going to drop it by the way he’s looking at you. “It’s...from the broken glass. When the sicarios shot at us in the car,” you shrug.

“Just because I was in a hospital, you didn’t think to mention you were injured?” he sounds offended, but there’s a different feeling cutting through the air, one that you can’t place your finger on.

It really isn’t a big deal, just a few superficial gashes that will heal easily—you’ve had much worse, working in the field. You hadn’t even meant to hide it, but the bandages aren’t a pretty sight and your work attire often consists of three-quarter sleeve blouses, or your favorite cardigan.

“Peña, it’s literally a few scratches. Hardly newsworthy,” you answer, though your own voice is calm now, too.

He has an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him simply, and you mean it. “And I’m not the one who got a bullet put into my leg,” you continue, offering the smallest of smiles.

Javier glances at the ground before looking back up at you, but you’ve already turned to leave.

Hunting Escobar meant you were all in life-or-death situations regularly, one way or another. But for an unknown reason he suddenly feels a bit heavier, and he doesn’t like it.

The radio’s playing as Javier sits on the floor, tossing away some bottles of liquor that are crowding his coffee table. Christ, your nagging was starting to get to him. He wishes the stations would play something besides the latest news on Escobar. If there’s anything he hates about not being able to work, it’s that he has too much free time when he’s home alone. That, and the fact that Escobar and his sicarios are still out there, and there’s currently not a damn thing he can do about it.

He’s been on crutches for a few weeks, and is now used to your coming and going. He watches as you drop some more groceries off in the kitchen, but notices you’re quieter than usual tonight. It’s not a proper check-in from you unless you’ve reprimanded him about not taking his meds, or skipping meals, or something else. Not that he’s complaining about a break from the incessant nagging, but his attention is drawn to the more pronounced lines that have appeared under your eyes lately. It doesn’t take long for him to drop his gaze, but he knows there must’ve been things happening at work that you haven’t mentioned. Or it might have just been one of those nights; he knows those too well. He definitely knows better than to ask about it.

“Wait,” he calls as you leave, and you take your hand off the doorknob before turning to him.

“Any new leads?” he asks. You almost have this look of pity for him in your eyes, which he hates.

You shake your head. “Messina’s running some intel by the ambassador tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll be back to business soon.”

He nods. “Thanks,” he says curtly.

Your lips press together into a tense smile before opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you.

Javier rubs the back of his neck, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment. He exhales quietly; there’s nothing except the sounds of the radio show and the ticking clock on the wall. What annoys him most of all is how dangerous it is when he has this much time to think.

It’s the weekend, so you make plans to get breakfast at your favorite spot around the corner. The few people you know prefer to sleep in on Saturdays, so you’re on your own. It’s early, but your stomach still grumbles with hunger. This makes you think of what Steve said about making sure Peña kept himself fed—you know very well that on many nights, whiskey is the only thing anyone is able to keep down. For a second you hope he hasn’t been drowning his boredom with alcohol anymore—not that it’s your problem.

At any rate, it’s probably too early to check on him, so you head out and plan to do it later.

Javier wakes up after an unrestful sleep, still groggy, and shuffles into the kitchen to find something to eat. He walks over to the cupboard to find a bowl, propping himself up on one leg. How much longer with these damn crutches? he grumbles to himself.

He takes the crutches out from under his arms, resting them against the wall and limping over to the sink. Pain sears up his leg and he hisses, but he hates needing the physical support—or any other support, for that matter. He’s about to fill a pot with water when he sees a package on the counter, wrapped in tin foil.

He grabs it, realizing it’s a large, warm plate of food with a note on top. Dinner. Eat, cabrón, it says in your scribbled handwriting.

For the first time since the incident, his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. You really are infuriating, he thinks. But somehow, it’s almost endearing.

It’s raining outside tonight, a light shower but it seems relentless. You hop over a puddle of water as you step into your complex and close your umbrella. It’s Steve’s turn to check on Peña, so you can go straight to your flat, much to your relief.

Your clothes are wet, so the cold air conditioning gives you goosebumps as you open the door. Turning on a single light in the foyer, you pry your wet shoes off, followed by the damp cardigan you have on. You’re not dry yet, but you almost feel a little better. Tonight calls for a hot shower, but you don’t have the energy for it, so you make your way to the bedroom.

You don’t bother turning on the lights as you strip yourself of the day’s burdens and change into something cleaner and lighter. If only your mind worked that way, too. As you crawl into bed, you feel as though you could just sink right in and disappear. The soft covers don’t do much to comfort you, and you’re not quite ready to lie down yet so you sit with your back against the headrest, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion. The rain continues to fall outside your window.

Images from today fill your mind. It was another day in the field, one you were supposed to spend tracking down a low-tier sicario. Instead, you found a bloody crime scene Escobar decided to leave behind to prove a point. You had no doubt Steve was at a bar now, doing what he could to drown out the sight.

It’s not something you’ll ever get used to. Despite yourself, you think of more mundane things—your many meals eaten alone, the quiet drives home with only your mind keeping you company. Somehow, it makes things easier for you this way. You don’t want to imagine the possibilities otherwise. It’s for the best, you tell yourself on nights like this—but repeating it doesn’t make it any easier to believe.

When your head finally hits the pillow and you pull the blanket up to your chin, you can’t help but allow yourself to wonder what it would be like if you didn’t have to face all of this on your own. It’s a common thing for you; empty thoughts in a dark and empty room, before fatigue finally overpowers your conscience.

On the other side of your thin bedroom walls, Javier lights another cigarette, deciding whether he wants to turn up the volume on the TV or turn it off entirely.

He’d already heard what happened from Steve. No, he wasn’t at the scene. But he should’ve been, instead of being stuck at home and helpless. When he’s out in the field, he likes to think he’s able to stomach it all better, running on pure adrenaline. He runs his hand along his jaw, willing the anger and tension to leave him. He wasn’t even part of this mission, nor did he make any of the calls, but somehow he knows it’s going to be another long night. He’s had worse days where he can’t take it anymore, finding comfort only in the arms of some woman he doesn’t know. Even then, it’s more of a distraction than anything else.

The guilt never leaves him—it’s a weight he deserves to carry. Every decision he makes affects something, or someone else. Whether he’s ever made a good choice, he’s not sure. But when he looks at the bandages covering the wound in his leg, tracing the edges with his finger, he knows he’s tired of dragging other people down with him.

Translations:

Cabrón = asshole

Series tags: @mytinybaguette @mrpascals @dindjarindiaries @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @pascalesque @lady-sigyn @bel-13 @positivelife3000 @larakasser @buckstaposition @watsonwise @irishleesh93 @gigilame @lostingoogletranslate @yabby-girl

Perm tags: @immundusspiritu @aeryntheofficial @i-like-those-odds @heyy-honeyy @hail-doodles @hiscyarika @taman-a @electricprincess888 @spacegayofficial @myrin1234 @aloneontheoutside @pascalisthepunkest @ah-callie @fleurdemiel145 @katialvi @murdermewithbooks @pisss-offf-ghostt @kayebede @lamnothome @fan-g0rl @lokiaddicted @mrsdaamneron @poedaneron @wolfshifter4life @rociomz @opheliaelysia @dyn-djarin @randomness501 @hayley-the-comet @mrsparknuts @kyo101 @blue-tidal-wave @palalover @forever-rogue @adikaofmandalore

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena #my ff #non sw

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detectivejay-chuckles-halstead · 4 years ago

Text

Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 3

Description: Y/N finds out just a little more about Jay

Words: 1555

Warnings: Slight character whump

Pairing: Jay x Reader (eventual), Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic

A/N: 2 Updates in one day? Who am I? In all seriousness though, thank you all for the support with this story. It means a lot to me. Even the replies that are just a heart emoji mean a lot to me, as do all the likes and reblogs. I hope you all enjoy as always!

Part 1 Part 2

This careful dance went on for weeks. Once a week, Jay would be there, always towards the weekend. The three of you would sit outside, watch the birds. Mouse talked more when you were around, surprising the staff when they’d overhear. You were just glad that he seemed to like you, enjoyed having you around.

You were at work, your boss talking to you about one of your cases. It was days like this that you really enjoyed your job, getting to work under some of the best psychologists in Chicago. And the community at Chicago Med was fantastic.

“I have a patient in the ER that I want you to try and talk to. He’s the brother of one of the ER doctors, Will,” Daniel told you when his pager went off. “I haven’t been able to get through to him before, but maybe you’ll be able to?”

“Of course. I’ll head down there right now,” you assured him with a smile, turning and walking to the elevator. It was definitely one of those days that you enjoyed your job. As soon as you hit the ER, you were greeted with familiar faces. Despite primarily working in the Psychiatric Unit, you were still a staple in the ER.

“Dr Y/L/N!” Maggie exclaimed when you walked up to her, embracing you in a tight hug. “Daniel let you loose I see?”

“He specifically sent me. I’m here to talk to Dr Halstead’s brother. Could you point me in his direction?”

“Exam 7.” You nodded, walking down and counting the numbers as you went until you hit seven. The curtains were drawn, but you could hear Will talking -- or more yelling -- at his brother.

“Are you stupid? I mean you just got shot! And now you’re wanting to leave AMA? I mean, first! You got shot! Which can mess up your ability to wear…” You walked in with a knock, not letting him finish his sentence as he turned to look at the intruder.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. Daniel wanted me to come down and talk…” You looked at the man in the bed, surprised. “Jay?”

“You told them to make me talk to a psychiatrist?” Jay spat, glaring at his brother. This obviously was a surprise to him, and to you as well. You didn’t expect Jay to be Will’s brother, and you weren’t expecting to be called down to talk to Mouse’s friend.

“It’s procedure, you know that, Jay! This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten shot on the job!” Will reminded him, but you cut them off before more yelling could occur.

“That’s enough Dr Halstead!” you snapped. “I understand that this is a difficult situation for both of you, but I’m here to do my job. And you have patients to see as well Will, so let me do my job and go do yours.”

Will’s brow furrowed in frustration, Adam’s Apple bobbing harshly in his throat as he looked like he wanted to say something. “Now, Will,” you stated again, letting him walk out of his own accord.

“Look, I’m fine,” Jay assured you, sitting up and crossing his legs under the blanket.

“I believe you, but I still have to come down here and talk to you. Clear you so to speak. If you want, I could tell Daniel that we know each other and that you would be more comfortable with a different psychiatrist if you’d like?” You didn’t want to hand him off to somebody else, but you wanted to make sure he was comfortable with it all.

“No...it’s...you’re fine,” he sighed. You took the opportunity to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs. “So, how’s this going to go?”

“I just want you to tell me about today. What led up to you getting shot. What you were thinking, feeling. That’s it,” you answered with a smile, setting the ipad down on the table. You weren’t going to take notes on this, wanted to keep his trust intact.

“We were on day three of this case. It was a tough one,” he began, eyes glancing back and forth between you and the wall. “We’d found our guy, went to raid his house. I was with my partner Hailey, and it was going like any other bust. We breached the front door, and then I heard the distinct ‘pop’ of a gun, and then just searing pain in my thigh.”

“And what were you thinking when it happened?” You kept your voice soft and low, soothing even.

“Not again,” he chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Just sadness. “That’s what I was thinking. Not again. Because I’ve been shot before. In Chicago. In Afghanistan. Accidents. On purpose. And all I thought was not again.”

“What was Will talking about when he was talking to you? Getting shot would affect your ability to wear something?” You weren’t sure if it was pertinent or not, but seeing as Will was yelling about it, you figured that it probably was.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Outside of these walls, I can be your friend Jay. And I won’t push you to talk about things you don’t want to. But right now, I’m trying to assess if you need therapy sessions and if you’re going to be cleared to go back to work,” you reminded him. “So, I need you to answer my questions. And whatever we talk about in here, I won’t bring up out there unless you do. Deal?”

It took a minute for him to speak, sighing before leaning back against the pillows.

“Had I gotten shot just a few inches lower, I wouldn’t have to be here. They wouldn’t have had to pull a bullet out of my flesh.” He bit the inside of his cheek, chewing on it gently as he swallowed hard. “I would have been able to go back to the district and get probably Adam or Kevin to help me get the bullet out.”

“Okay?” you said, not sure if you were understanding him. He still would have gotten shot.

“Mouse and I, when were in Afghanistan. We hit an IED. He ended up with a traumatic brain injury. And I ended up as an amputee. Right side, above the knee. Will was so kindly reminding me that additional damage to the remaining muscle of my leg could make it to where I can’t wear my prosthesis. I mean, I’m gonna be without it for a few weeks to let the wound heal. The, physical therapy with the prosthesis. I’m gonna be on desk duty for a few months at least.” He looked at you, rolling his eyes with another smile with no happiness behind it. “That what you wanted to hear?”

“I didn’t know what to expect. You and Mouse are definitely two people that are hard for me to read. But I mean, it doesn’t change anything about you,” you shrugged. “I’m going to be honest with you, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to somebody. I don’t think you overly need to by any means, but trauma can bring things back up, things we try to push away.”

“I know. But it’s always the same. I’ve learned to live with the triggers, the emotions and flashbacks. I just...I won’t be able to see Mouse for a while, which pisses me off.”

“Because you won’t be able to drive?”

“Yeah. And when I see him again, I think he’ll understand. But it’s hard for him. I’ve seen some of the staff treat him like he’s a child. Or that he’s not entirely there, but he is. I’ve seen it. He’s in there, it’s just his brain doesn’t work right anymore. He gets frustrated so easily now. Watching the birds is really the one thing that keeps him calm all the time. So, he’s going to be frustrated that I’m not there, even if I call and tell him why. He’s not going to fully understand,” he explained to you, letting you see just a little more than usual when it came to both of them.

“If you want, I can drive you Jay. I know we usually show up on the same day later in the week, but I can adjust my schedule to make sure you get down there.”

“You would?” He seemed genuinely surprised, eyes wide with excitement instead of sadness.

“Of course. He means something to you, and you obviously mean something to him. So, why wouldn’t I? It’s not like I don’t go down there frequently anyway? Is there anything else you want to talk about?” you asked, knowing you needed to go back upstairs soon.

“No. Thank you, Y/N. This means a lot to me,” he answered as you stood up, fishing around in your pocket for your business card before scribbling your personal phone number on the back.

“What are friends for? Call me or text me if you need anything. And I do mean anything, Jay. And we’ll set up a schedule to get you down to see Mouse.” You handed the card to him, his hand loosely grabbing your wrist for a moment as he smiled up at you. You nodded, understanding the unspoken thanks he was sending you. “I’ll see you soon.”

Tag List: @yzas-stuff @gemmafountainloves @ceiliesla @corebore123 @annaallicce @fullwattpadmusictree @bethii1 @thevelvetseries @mich-lynne3 @itmejado @music-is-my-escape71 @not-onlyedmlyrics @supergirl000983 @mandybug39 @okiegirl24 @haileymatthewss @httphiddlestan @capmanranger @ahhh0ahhh @bookgiver @daenerys-targaryes @galacticsmoon @beachfan412 @wearesodrica @danielacastellon @genericcaner @halsteadsway @theskytraveler @miranda0102 @amyarondottir @onechicago18 @lovecatystuff @doramstr @itsdesiree86 @raveenasblog

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #fanfiction #mouse chicago pd

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Moon Rising

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Imp x Crewmate

Warning: memory loss, distrust, gore, minor cursing, minor PTSD, murder, Among Us fanfic

Word count: 6019

With her memory lost, she doesn’t know the dangers upon the new ship

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

I can't remember much before the lights. Blank till I'm woken by people storming into the room. I could barely hear the shouting over the ringing in my ears and everything came in a rush of just images. Dark ship illuminated by weak torches, bright loading bay filled with loud people, and headaches.

When things finally make sense is when I find myself gasping for air in the med bay. Sitting ramrod straight I inhale harshly, clenching my chest as images run through my head. None of it makes sense and all I can remember is red, so much red. Thinking about it cinches my heart and lungs. Without much thought I begin counting my fingers, pressing each digit to my thumb as I count up.

"33, 34, 35," I mumble as I take deep inhales. I drop my shoulders and sigh as my heart finishes it's racing.

"good now," a deep voice asks. I stiffen again, fisting the bedding as I snap towards the voice. A few feet away is another bed with another person. I look to the man conflicted and alarmed. Looking at his face brings a flashback to my head, him laughing at a table. He cocks a brow at me, crossing his arms as he leans back against the wall.

"cat got your tongue, love," he asks with a cocky grin. The grin plucks at my chest, tugging at memories lost for the time being. I don't answer. He sits up concerned his forehead creasing as he begins to toss the blanket off his legs. "Love, you alright?"

He crosses the gap between us quickly, startling me with his intensity. I lean away from his hand as he reaches for me, tugging the blanket up towards my neck while I eye him warily.

"love," he sighs," do you know who I am?" the only answer I can muster is a shake of my head. His response is strange though. He smiles, chuckling to himself. "Well, what an interesting turn of events," he says. Reaching out he grabs my head, tugging on my hair when I attempt to flee. He leans down and presses a kiss to my head," everything is going to be fine, trust me."

I just nod as I gauge the warmth flooding my cheeks.

<<<0>>>

A doctor shows up later to ask too many questions. She rambles on and on about nonsense that makes my head throb. Dividing her attention between the man and me at the beginning was the only relief she bothered to give me. Once he was waved away as healthy, I was left alone with the doctor. The rampage of questions begin, none I could answer.

As she talked and explained my memory loss I found I couldn't focus on her words. A strange hum sat behind my sternum, edging me towards action. Every little noise made me snap to attention, ready to turn and run at a second's notice. The anxiety could be chalked up to the fear of my situation but it felt deeper than that.

I looked at everything but I found I was more focused on the doctor herself. Watching her hands move as she talked, watch how frequently she blinked, and her swaying her weight from foot to foot. Every little movement was recorded to an uncomfortable degree. The one thing that brought me comfort was looking at her earrings, such beautiful little rose diamond studs.

<<<0>>>

"So you don't remember me at all," the man asks as he tosses a ball at the wall. The thud does nothing to force my eyes from him. I've taken to watching everyone who enters with eagle-like focus. Little noises and movements take my attention for seconds before I look back to whoever invades my room.

The thuds stop as the man looks to me, cocking a brow in question. I shake my head in answer. The thudding begins again when he looks away.

"Shame," he says casually," you can talk, you know, I won't bite." he smiles at his own joke. I still keep quiet.

This man makes me feel uneasy though the only memory I have of him is him laughing. I'm weary of his nearness but I can't deny the comfort I have of him being here. I still don't care for his prying. Similar to the doctor he asks too many questions. Though he is more amused by my answers than the woman.

"That's fine, you didn't much care for speaking with me when we first met," he shrugs," though I grew on you, like a fungus. I feel confident I can do that again." his smile is more personal now. I don't bother with even acknowledging his personal challenge. Let him do as he wishes.

It's quiet for a while, the ball hitting the wall being the only sound. I watch him and he passes an occasional glance to me, snickering to himself when he turns back.

"No need to watch me with such focus, love," he chuckles," if you have any questions feel free to ask."

"Why do you call me that," I ask quickly, croaking out the question in a near whisper. He startles at my question, turning to face me.

"What," he smiles," love?"

I nod.

"well, that would be spoilers, love," his teeth gleam in his smirk," I'll let you figure it out yourself. In the meantime, I have some things to deal with." he gets out of the chair and walks over. Grabbing my head once more he presses a chaste kiss to my cheek then exits the room. I watch the door shut behind him before I look at the clock. It's rather late for anyone to be dealing with business.

<<<0>>>

I don't see the doctor woman for a while. Another doctor takes her place, and I must say I prefer him over her. He asks fewer questions. He comes in and gets down to business. Asking what he needs then taking vitals swiftly. No pointless small talk and minimal memory jogging questions. His quiet demeanor reminds me of someone I used to know.

A flashback of shaking hands with a large dark woman in a room surrounded by machines. Her hold is strong that I wince when she shakes my hand, it makes her laugh. It's strange having the few memories I have are of people laughing. The memory makes me feel warm and jovial. This doctor is one of the few that I feel safe around.

I barely catch sight of the man that calls me love, missing around the same time the doctor woman left. He shows up for a short time once or twice this week, checking in on my recovery before heading out on 'business'.

He stops by again today, bumping into the doctor as he exits the room.

"Aye, sorry doc," he grabs the doctor's shoulders.

"No problem, just heading out now," the doctor answers as he grabs the door.

"yea, yea," he pats the doctor on the shoulder," don't let me keep you, imagine your busy on this sterilized ship."

"ha," the doctor chuckles," getting sick here is basically unheard of but it just means that when I do work I have something serious on my hands."

"true, anyway don't let me keep ya," he waves," later doc."

Watching the interaction was boring. The small talk was casual but uninteresting. Though the gleam of the doctor's capped tooth caught my attention and settled my nerves for some reason. I feel more comfortable with him now.

<<<0>>>

"Still nothing," the man asks as he lounges at the foot of my bed. I shake my head. He sighs before rolling onto his stomach, resting his head on his hand. "So you don't remember Clark or Norris? They were very close to you, especially during the end," he says," or even Garry, Windows, and Palmer?"

His attempts at jogging my memory wears thin very quickly. It's been all week with him trying to bring some ideas of my past. The frustrations aren't in him but in me. I cannot remember these people or the events the unfolded to bring me where I am. I've tried asking him how we got here but he avoids the question expertly. It piles the stress till I'm wishing he would just leave.

"Why does it matter? They're dead, can you leave now," I snap at him. He startles at my outburst, lifting himself onto his knees.

"hey," he coos," it's ok, I'm sorry for asking so many questions. I know this has to be hard for you and I don't ever wanna be the reason you're distressed." I scowl at him instead of answering. For someone who values my comfort, he is doing a shit job at trying to maintain it. His gaze softens as he regards me, giving me a once over before he crawls up the bed. He sits down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I stiffly allow him to cradle me against his side, feeling mixed up in my head.

The position feels familiar enough that I just let myself be. It's clear to me that he was someone with a different relationship with me. Lovers felt wrong but romantic partners seemed about right. I don't know what I could have seen in him to want to be interested in him. He is cocky and pushy to an annoying degree. I want him gone as much as I want him around. If only he would stop talking then I might feel better having him here.

"what are you thinking about," he mumbles as he rests his cheek on my head.

"you," I answer honestly.

He chuckles," all good thoughts I hope."

"they aren't, I find you very aggravating and annoying," I say in hopes of drenching his ego. Instead of being put off, he laughs.

"yea, may not have your memories but you still feel the same about me," he snickers into my hair. I don't understand our dynamics. I wish for my memories back when he is near because everything he reveals is confusing.

"if I hated you so much, why were we together?"

He tilts forward to look at me," you think we were together?"

"were we not," I ask worriedly. Did I gauge everything wrong? Was what I was feeling misinterpreted?

"oh, we were," he rests his hand on my thigh," was a blossoming relationship that neither of us could help. You had a distrust of me but we still worked very well together."

I scoff," if I didn't trust you then why would I want to date you?" he laughs again. His head bumps against mine as he chuckles, eye closed in his humor. I nudge him away with my shoulder, offended at his laughter.

"Sorry," he pats my leg," it's just you are too adorable."

"adorable for questioning," I ask confused and insulted.

"yea," he grabs my legs and lays them over his lap," adorable, smart, inquisitive, sexy, temperamental, and just too much fun." he cups my cheek as he bumps his forehead to mine. I freeze, curious above all else to what he is doing. I'm tense and scared but tempted.

"Temperamental?"

"yes," he nudges my nose," always so quick to anger, love, but I knew one way to calm you down."

Our breath mingles as my heart rate ramps up. I can feel the anticipation like a tangible thing. A war fights in my chest on if I really want what's happening. He is technically a stranger in my mind. In my heart, he is someone special. Which do I listen to? A sense of danger emits from him in every interaction but I can't bother to care.

"Stop thinking," he mumbles before pressing his lips to mine. I gasp at the warmth, reacting on instinct. It comes so fluidly, kissing him like I've done a hundred times. My hand comes up on its own accord, resting against his chest and sliding up to his hair.

Flickers of times before flood my head. Moments of stolen kisses in corridors or closets, intimate settings of a bedroom or kitchen, all centered around this feeling now. I want to push him away to sort these memories but the loss of his warmth is too much to bear. He is a comfort right now, a comfort I so desperately need.

My hand smooths the back of his neck till my thumb touches his ear. A loss strikes me as I flick his lobe. I pull back confused, staring at the skin on the side of his head.

"what," he asks dazed.

"didn't you have an earring," I ask as I admire the unblemished skin.

<<<0>>>

The female doctor returned this week. Her questions have dimmed down but still scratch my nerves. I cannot hear the words 'how are you feeling today' without feeling like going on a rampage. I understand her purpose to get my memories back, I appreciate it, but at this point, I'm accepting they aren't coming back all at once. Time is all I need, not these random questions that lead me to fury.

"Still nothing," the woman asks as she shines the light into my eyes. I bat her away while shaking my head. I don't want to speak with her more than needed. "shame, the man you came in with has been no help in finding out what happened to your ship," she rambles on as she readies the blood pressure cuff," he much prefers rattling on about nothing of importance than why there were bullet holes around the ship." I shrug in answer.

I watch her as she works, focusing on all her actions like before. An unease rumbles around my chest ever since she came in. I tried chalking it up to normal unease of her but it seems different this time. Perhaps her short leave has left a weird taste in my mouth. She continues to talk nonsense about the goings-on of her work while I study her face.

She finishes up quicker than usual, clapping her hands in finality as she waves me off as healthy. Not that my health has changed since I've gotten here.

"well, there isn't much I can do for today. A normal check-up and some one-sided conversation are all we needed," she heads towards the door. As she turns I catch sight of her ear. The newly revealed skin catches my attention as I study the area eagerly. The familiar stud that decorated her lobe is missing, even the hole was gone. She steals my focus away from her absent piercing with a wave of her hand," goodbye, love, till next time."

Her departure left me more uneased.

<<<0>>>

There is a fog of concern that layers the next few days. The doctor visits become nonexistent this week. The man who claims to care for me barely visits lately as well. As much as I wanted him gone I still feel sad at his lack of visitation. I guess I can't expect him to come with the freedom to explore the ship. Especially with the strange stiffness of the atmosphere, I can imagine everyone is far too busy.

A knock at my door startles me from reading on my borrowed tablet. Without an invitation, two uniformed men enter with rigid postures and indifferent faces. They both wear badges on their arms identifying their positions on the ship, security.

"Sorry to disturb you miss but we have a few questions if you don't mind," the taller of the two starts. I nod, sitting up in bed. The two walk further into the room and stand imposing at the end of the bed. The authority they project is intimidating enough that I feel that any unagreeable actions would be met with swift punishment.

"There is no need to be so worried, ma'am, we are just wondering if you have seen anything unusual lately. We like to check in on all our residents to keep an open line of communication to everyone," the shorter one smiles. His attempts to defuse the worry falls short on me.

"So, have you seen anything strange lately? People out later in the day cycle or weird noises in the vents," the taller one asks. I think back on the previous weeks, nothing of importance comes to mind. Staying in one room for a month doesn't let me see more than the hallway outside.

"no," I answer shortly.

"no? even a doctor acting strange or your friend saying weird things," the tall one tries to bait.

"I said no," I say," should I be worried about something?"

"No, no," the short one soothes," nothing to concern yourself with. Everything is perfectly fine and you are in safe hands being taken care of by our best medical staff."

His words feel too rehearsed to be honest. Though I can't refute his claim, I stay silent and nod with whatever they say. With their attempts of conversation failing they make their leave with curt nods. The taller one gives a forced smile as he shuts the door, his fake tooth catching the light.

<<<0>>>

It's late at night when the man comes to visit. He startles me awake towards the middle of the night as he crawls into my bed. I cannot decide if his arm curling around my waist is welcomed or not. The kiss to the back of my neck eases me slightly.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he mumbles," I felt like I had to be close to you tonight. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, humor me for tonight, please."

"it's fine," I grumble. His arm tightens around my waist as his face snuggles to my back. I feel the urge to hold his hand closer to my stomach but I decide against it in hopes of him speaking some more.

We lay there in the quiet room for a while, almost long enough for me to fall back to sleep. I'm almost sure he fell asleep until I feel his thumb pet across the fabric of my shirt. He hums against my neck.

"you truly don't remember anything," he whispers," I thought you were playing at it but you are too relaxed right now to truly know."

"Know what?"

He hums," nothing."

The silence edges onward as we roll into midnight. The previous comfort is thrown aside to bring forth the unease I use to feel for him. What could he mean 'know the truth'? Should I not be so comfortable with him here? Maybe my heart is turning me astray because he knows the me before now. It's easy to be relaxed around someone who knows what's missing in your brain. Maybe he is using that against me now.

"Stop thinking," he growls," you always do that, just lay here with me and don't worry about anything else."

I huff," easier said than done. You can't say things like that when you aren't the one with most of your memories missing."

He hums in answer. I want to roll over and confront him with questions that I never bothered asking. With every hint, I feel that knowing the truth would be detrimental.

"do you trust me? Having nothing to your head but what you know and feel now, do you trust me," he asks. I think on the question, feeling the trap being laid. Do I trust him? He hasn't proven himself as either-or.

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"you should trust me," he says," I will never let anyone or anything hurt you."

"if you say so" I fulfill the urge to grab his hand. His words do tilt me towards trusting him but I hold back some.

"Can I tell you something that may hurt your feelings?"

"yes."

"I," he hesitates," I thought about leaving you when I found out you lost your memories. It was so easy to go my own way and complete my own tasks. Yet, seeing you laying in the bed so confused and uneased around everyone, I couldn't do it. We had a conversation before all this on whether or not I cared for you. At the time I couldn't bring myself to validate your feelings because I was uncertain of mine. Now I can confidently say that I treasure you, memories, or not." he grabs my hip to turn me onto my back. Hovering over me he drops his head to mine with eyes closed.

He sighs," love, whatever happens, please have faith in me to take care of you."

"I-," I try to speak but the words stick in my throat. I attempt again, falling short once more. Returning his words are impossible right now, all I can do is nod. He closes the space between us, kissing me with more sincerity than our first kiss. His hand pets down to my leg, groping my thigh with a groan.

A few images of the same situation poke at my head but the scenes never finish farther than touching. It's unknown to me if there was, even more, to see after that. All I know is the familiarity of right now.

"may I sleep here tonight," he asks before stealing another kiss. I cannot speak, only nod.

<<<0>>>

A dull alarm wakes me the next night. Looking at the clock I see I haven't been asleep long. Confused and curious I look around the room, trying to figure out the soft siren sound. Looking out the hallway I can see through the window of the door a blinking light. The floor illuminates in intervals as the light shines in.

I wait patiently for something to happen as an eerie familiar scene unfolds before me. A person runs by the door, blocking the light for a moment before they run onwards. A few seconds later another person runs by but stops at the door. I can barely hear them speaking before a loud scream shocks me into sitting up in bed. I watch the head of the person through the door shake before they fall with a loud thud to the door.

Scared, I throw the blanket off the bed and stand. The darkroom is made easier to cross with the dim light from the hall. I walk slowly towards the door, hearing nothing besides the alarm. Step by step I anxiously walk forward, ready to turn and run. I stop before the door and look to the table at the wall. Quickly I grab the first thing I see that I can use as a weapon.

I open and walk out the door while holding a bone saw. The body on the floor immediately catches my attention, it laying bloodied at my feet.

"oh god," I whimper as I look at the body. Their face is skinned and torn down their neck. The muscles are visible on their cheeks, their eyes popping out the missing lower lids. Before I can gag, a memory makes my head throb. A scene I never wished to relive plagues my thoughts. Friends lay dead similar to the body below.

In utter fear, I walk over the body and make my way down the hall in hopes of reaching safety. I twist in turn down winding halls, passing streaks of blood and bullet holes. The light remains dimmed throughout the walk adding a new level of suspense.

I make it further in the ship till I reach a closed set of double doors. The sign next to them reads 'navigation'. The idea of a room filled with people working the ship brings comfort to my otherwise terror wracked body. Quickly, I open the door and stumble inside the darkroom. The doors close behind me.

The only lights the room has are the stars visible from the large window. I try to use the backdrop to see anything in the room but all is quiet and still.

"Hello," I call into the room, feeling anxious. A wet sucking sound answers back. A few stars disappear as a figure stands to block the window. I startle, sucking in a breath as I take a step back. A gurgle echoes around the room as the figure shifts once more. I step back again, jumping when the door opens behind me. The light from the hall allows me to see, the flashes letting me piece together the scene.

A shirtless man stands above a man in a uniform, his arm stretched wide and long as he grabs the uniformed man's face. The arm is thick and all wrong, the hand morphs into the man's face and fingers dig under his skin. The wet sound is clearly coming from the throbbing hand. The horrid man turns towards me, his face adding a new level of terror to the already horrible scene.

"Hello, love," he grins.

My head throbs as I watch him. Flashes of time before make me stumble. Blood and gore are all I can see, all I can remember. The man is the center of every scene, jogging my memory completely. This man I've shared a ship with, a bed with, is no man. This monster is what I've tried to find, looking to everyone with suspicion. The shapeshifter of the Skeld who killed all the crew members.

"Copper," I gasp as I finally come back to myself. He drops the man, his arm slithering and squirming back to normal.

"so you remember me," he rolls his shoulders," shame, I was hoping we could forgo this second encounter." I'm stuck between feelings as he turns and walks towards me. I want to run, get away from this monster in hopes of finding something to kill him. I also want to stay, remembering his promise to me.

"Love," he grins as he slowly glides across the room," are you scared, do you want to run? Do you remember what you did last time? Remember how you screamed and fought me? You were so mad and frustrated, which I understand. I killed your crewmates, how it must feel to a captain to lose all her workers to the man she spends her nights with."

I remember the first kill he committed. A poor engineer worker who stayed late one night in the engine room. She was ripped apart by her chest, her lungs and heart half-eaten and left beside her body. I met with him the next night coincidently in the cafeteria where I vented my frustrations to him. It was the beginning of our blooming relationship.

Back to now, I panic as he nears, his taunts or words thrumming around my head. At his next step, I jump into action, turning and running down the hall. I pump my hands as I book it away from him, dropping the saw as I do. Behind me, I can hear his naked feet slapping against the metal floors.

"Now you run? What captain runs from trouble," he screams after me.

As I turn the corner I think about the second body that was found in electrical. Bennings was split in half and strung from one end of the room to the other, his body was the most brutal of them all. The same night I share my first kiss with Copper.

My heart thumps against my chest, his steps coming closer and closer. When I feel his breath on my neck and hear his cocky chuckle, I stop and duck. He topples over me, tripping on my crouched body and hitting the floor hard. Without a second thought, I run the opposite direction, taking a different turn away from Navigation.

"You're in so much trouble when I catch you, love," he growls. I gulp thinking about the bloody mess he will make of me.

I remember the stress of my time on Skeld, finding body after body with no leads. Blair, Nauls, and Palmer were next. The bodies stacked up till I felt that there was no one I could trust. The only pattern I could find amongst the bodies were bits of jewelry decorating their ears or mouths. It was a weak connection but it stuck with me. I remember seeing Copper that first day on the ship laughing with the gang, his earing gleaming in the light. He brings a bit of comfort till one night in my room I cannot find his earing while he sleeps in my bed.

Twisting off into a room marked security I shut the door behind myself. I try to catch my breath as I search the room for a gun. As I find the gun locker I hear a bang on the door. Not bothering to look back, I up my efforts and quickly grab a shotgun resting in a case. I load the gun, cocking it the same time the door slides open.

"cornering yourself, I thought you were smarter than this," he tsks," I mean, you found me out on the Skeld based on something so stupid as a missing cosmetic item. Truly a special human." I twist around, pressing my back to the gun locker as I point the gun towards him.

"Stay back," I barely spit out. He stops, raising his hands while grinning.

"are you going to shoot me, love," he huffs," I don't think you have the guts." my finger glides over the trigger, pressing lightly against it as I fight for courage to shoot him. "Come on, love," he gawks," do you not remember the nights we shared? The love we shared? I never faked it with you, I truly care about you, I could never hurt you. I won't hurt you, I just want you to understand. I tried to explain to you why but you clonked your head before I could. Just come with me and we can take the ship together." I stutter in my confidence.

I know those nights he speaks of. We talked all through the night, me taking his comfort as the team tries to find the real culprit. He even got me to laugh during those awful days. His kisses were constant and welcomed back then. Would they still be now?

"Come on," he takes a step closer," I love you."

His words throw another memory into the mix. The time when I wanted nothing more than for him to say those words. I grew frustrated at the imposter aboard my ship, grew frustrated with him as red flags began to pile up. The day I figured it out was too late, I caught him red-handed killing the final member of my ship. His horrid face splitting to take a bite out of Fuchs' shoulder.

A bang echoes around the room before I realize what happened. My shoulder aches from the kickback but I can hardly notice it over the large wound in Copper's side. Half of his stomach is torn to the side, the blood splattered against the wall behind him. Though the wound is frozen mid splatter, the tissue and gore sticking out in sharp points.

"Damn," he mumbles," I didn't think you would." with a groan he sucks in the wound till it fills back up into unblemished skin.

"wha-," I try to say before he tackles me against the gun locker, pinning me easily.

"shot your boyfriend, I don't know if I should take offense to that," he laughs. I struggle in his hold, fighting against his grip on my arms.

"let go," I cry out.

"Why," he scoffs," so you can attack me again? I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"Fuck you," I squirm. He shakes me in hopes of stopping my attempts to escape, pressing his chest against mine.

"Stop," he growls," it's time for you to listen."

"No," I clench my eyes shut, turning away from him. He grabs my face and turns me back to him.

"I'm not going to hurt you so stop pretending I am. I'm on your side, love, just hear me out," he pleads. The tone makes me freeze. Why would he beg? I timidly open my eyes and look to the familiar face that has brought smile after smile to my lips. I sigh in defeat and relax in his hold.

"I'm not the bad guy here, love. I just want to get away from everyone but they wouldn't let me go. Scientists are evil people, far more corrupt than I am. Poking and prodding me like some sort of animal. I took back my choice one day and I escaped that horrid place. Making my way onto your ship was a mistake that your team paid for. I was just trying to survive but your team wouldn't listen, what could I do when they started threatening to airlock me? I'm not sorry for ending them but I am sorry how it hurt you," he drops his head to my head," I just want to go home. Please just let us go home."

His story finishes with a sigh. The plea almost outweighs the grief of my mourning. I get wanting to just be left alone, knowing first hand how doctors can be annoying sons of bitches. Still, did they deserve to die? He was cornered and left to make tough choices. Yet, he could have found a better way to do this. I sigh against him, I'm just tired now.

"I'm sorry," he kisses my cheek," please don't hate me, I've lost a lot but having to lose you would be too much now. I deserve something good, please be my good."

This is too much. I just want to go back to before, back to my room on Skeld where we shared sweet words and even sweeter kisses.

"I'm tired, Copper," I mumble," so tired."

"I understand, just let me take care of everything," he wraps his arms around me, hugging me close. I let him, resting my eyes while hugging him back.

We both walk out the room in tense companionable silence. I don't forgive him, how could I, but I don't hate him. His misguided attempt at freedom is understandable but the blood resting at my feet muddles my ideas. We walk back to medical where we both lay in bed holding one another.

Copper keeps me in a strict area of the ship, medical, and navigation. The halls are cleaned and the bodies are removed from the area. The consideration of my mental health is sweet but not enough for me to speak to him. I couldn't talk to him the entire journey to where ever he guides us to. Avoiding talking but not avoiding him. He tries to bait me into a conversation but in the end he allows me some time.

A few days of silence gives enough time for me to sort through everything. Time to mourn the death of my crew, time to calm my racing mind, and time to miss him. He kept his promise to not hurt me, which gives a point to his side. It's a long week to decide what I wanted to do once we docked.

I weakly walk out of medical and head towards navigation with a blanket wrapped over my shoulders. I walk through the doors, catching the attention of Copper sitting in the captain's chair.

He smiles shyly," hey." I don't answer. I walk over to him, confusing him when I hand him the blanket. He doesn't speak as I step into his space, nudging his legs further apart before sitting on his lap. Copper understands and wraps the blanket around us both, cradling me against his chest. Sweetly he presses a kiss to my head, squeezing me closer.

"I don't forgive you," I mumble, making him stiffen," but I'm willing to let you try."

He nods," that's all I ask."

We both watch a docking station coming closer and closer through the window. I close my eyes, dreading the nightmare that will be explaining this whole situation. I allow myself a small smile as Copper pets my thigh.

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

This story has so many references. got a ton for The Thing and one for Aliens. I adore sci-fi horror movies. The main character is named after my favorite character death in The Thing. Dr. Copper got his arms ripped off after trying to use paddles on the alien, the chest ripping open was the coolest practical effect i’ve ever seen.

I wasn’t sure how to end the story but i like the uncertain note, similar to The thing when the dog got away in the newest one. i lowkey like this one even if i think the ending is a bit of a cop out, i just like making pop culture references.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#the thing #aliens #exophilia #among us #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #the thing reference #Aliens reference #Enigma-IM

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rauvlyna · 4 years ago

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Han Jisung - Crushes

pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

theme: fluff - platonic relationship

warnings: none (except for the fact that it literally leads to nowhere)

a/n: i also wrote this 2 year ago and it’s a tad (or maybe more than just a tad) cringy. i didn’t really know how to end this so it’s kinda just a blurb. anyways, have fun, drink water, take your meds, eat healthy, exercise and smile!!!!

What a lovely day it is today.

Saturday, no classes and no projects to do. No one to tell me when to get off this cozy bed on a rainy day. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, ready for sleep to engulf me again.

However, someone just had to ruin the moment by ringing the doorbell. I didn’t put an effort to get up, expecting mom or maybe my sister to open the door.

After a few seconds it stopped. Maybe it was just a delivery or something. Mom have been spending all her free time online shopping for who knows what. Trying to close my eyes, the doorbell rang again, this time it was ringing like a madman. Whoever is outside must have been in a rush.

In my peripheral vision I saw my phone light up. Grabbing it, I was surprised by the number of messages showing up one after the other.

HANdyman: Y/N open the door, you peasant.

HANdyman: I’m freezing my butt off outside your house.

HANdyman: Can’t you freaking hear me practically murdering your doorbell?

HANdyman: Are you still sleeping??

HANdyman: I’m guessing it’s a yes.

HANdyman: You lazy bum, open the door and let me in.

Shoot! I forgot that we have that art project to work on.

I quickly jumped out of bed, almost slipping from the blankets sprawled out on the floor. I didn’t even bother to go to the bathroom to check if I looked even just half decent. Instead I bolted down the stairs, almost missing a step as I slide towards the door.

Hastily opening the door, I was met by a shivering Jisung and a pool of water beneath his shoes.

>.>.>.>.>.>.<.<.<.<.<.<.<

“So you mean you forgot about the project?”

“Before you go all Hulk on me, keep in mind that we just had an entire week having all-nighters filled with finishing other projects. Besides, I didn’t exactly forget, it just slipped out of my mind?”

It was true, since the exams were only two weeks away the teachers are rushing us with projects. Instead of replying he just sighed.

“Sorry about your clothes by the way.” I said glancing at my shirt and pants he was wearing.

After letting Jisung in, I found out that everyone was not home. Mom left a note that she would be out for the whole day because of some event that she had to attend and my sisters went with her.

“It’s fine. It’s a good thing that you have big clothes, or else I’d be wearing your dad’s shirt. We both know that I’d probably look like a dwarf wearing his”, he chuckled at the thought.

“Do you want to do the project now? I’ll just take my art supplies from my bedroom. Well, technically it’s my sister’s but yeah.”

“Sure. I also brought mine, just in case.”

“I need to change out of my pajamas. And brush my teeth.”

“Yeah, you do. Your breath stinks.”

“You should be thankful I saved your ass from freezing before even thinking about my hygiene, brat.”

>.>.>.>.>.>.>.<.<.<.<.<.<.<

“Why did I even pick Art as an elective?”, I said lying on the couch upside down regretting my life choices.

“Because you wanted to stalk that ‘cute’ guy, what was his name again? Hanjin? Kenji?”, Jisung said while putting air quotes on the word cute and obviously struggling to remember the name.

“First of all his name is Hyunjin”, I pointed out.

“Eh, close enough”, Jisung mumbled. Turning back to his work.

“Second, it wasn’t totally because of him. I admit, I had a stupid crush on him in sophomore year, but I already grew out of it. It was more to the fact that Ms. Jeong is really nice and gives high grades.” I finished talking and sat up to continue on working on our movie poster.

“Fair enough.”

Ms. Jeong made us do a project by partner where we were each assigned a book title to make a movie poster. But not the typical computer-edited movie poster, instead we were told to make it a hand-painted one. Me and Jisung picked The Castle in the Attic.

There was a moment of silence.

“Hey.”

I look up slightly to meet his gaze.

“Yeah?”

“When did you start liking that Hyunjin guy?”

He propped up his arm and leaned his head on it, curiosity written all over his face.

I sighed and pulled myself up to a sitting position.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe it was when Felix introduced me to him because they were in the same dance crew. At first I thought he was arrogant, because of his undeniably good looking face. Plus, the fact that he’s a great dancer. But surprisingly, he was very down to earth.”

“Why did you ask?” By now I returned to painting the castle.

“I was just curious. Do you still like him?”

“No, not anymore. I mean we’re still friends and all but I realized I was just a hormonal teenager back then.”

“What’s with the questions though? You were never one to talk to me about things like this.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, whatever. By the way, how’s your college applications?”

I adjusted my position on the floor since my back was starting to hurt. I peeked at Jisung who had an unreadable look on his face. Taking my free hand and waving it in front of his face, he was snapped out of his reverie.

Jisung cleared his throat. “I got a letter from one of the universities I applied.”

“Well, what did it say?” I asked, glancing up at him.

“I wasn’t accepted.”

“You sent an application to a couple more universities, right?”

He nodded and I approached him and patted his shoulders.

“Yeah, but I’m worried that I might get rejected by all the others I applied to.” His eyes welled up with tears.

“Are you kidding?” He met my eyes with a confused expression. I sighed and rolled my eyes at him.

“You’re literally one of the top students in our school. You have lots of extracurricular and the fact that you’re one of the editors of our school paper just means that you’re one heck of a hardworking student.” I paused to look at his expression which was a mix of surprise and gratitude? I lightly slapped his thigh, “It’s just one rejection, that doesn’t mean that you’re not good. Who knows? Maybe you’re not destined to be in that school.” He chuckled at the mention of the word‘destined’.

“Are you trying to be like a motivational speaker right now?” He said while trying to wipe the unshed tears.

I shushed him and pressed a finger to his lips and his eyes widened at my actions.

“I’ve been practicing.” I said, removing my finger from his lips and scooting back to my previous position. I picked up the paint brush and went back to painting.

“For what?”

“You know how Jeongin is a bit lousy when it comes to girls?” I asked him and he hummed in response. “He’s been asking me for advice and I think he holds onto them too much.”

“Poor kid. He’s just a bundle of hormones as of now. Why did he even think that you’ll be able to help him?”

I scowled at him, “Excuse me, I can be helpful when I need to be.”

Jisung shook his head, “I meant that you can’t even handle your own crushes.” He paused, “You know that time when you had a crush on Seungmin? You used to hide every time you see his face. There was even that one time when you went to our room and when you saw him you instantly hid behind my back.”

My shocked face made him laugh. “Oh God. Don’t remind me of that. That was so fu-“ I cleared my throat, “freaking embarassing. I cringe so hard and just want to repeatedly slam my head on the wall whenever I remember that.”

Jisung laughed so hard that he almost messed up the part he was working on. “Yeah, that was pretty embarassing man. But why are you holding back on cursing?” He said when he finally got a hold of himself.

I looked at him in incredulity. “I told you about this before, I’m not gonna use the F word until I turn 20. I swear you’re only bringing it up because you want to embarrass me.”

He snorted loudly. “It is pretty funny though, like we both know you use that word on your head a lot so why not say it out loud.”

“I don’t know really. I think it’s because people normally see me as the girl who doesn’t seem to curse. Even some of our friends think that I’m naïve and innocent.”

“If only they knew.” Jisung scoffed which I rolled my eyes at him but he didn’t notice it as my head was ducked.

#kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop boys #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids x reader #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung imagines #han jisung oneshot #han jisung scenario #han jisung blurb #this is kinda cringy #lol

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wayhavnsfinest · 4 years ago

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The Misadventures of Baby Sitting

This is a “crack fic” I thought up of one day on my way home from work. It’s chaotic and I ran with it. There is strong language in this and mentions of torture. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: ~1.7K

Summary: Vexx and Damon find an abandoned baby. Part 1 of ???

Characters: Vexx Serif, Damon Reznor, traveler.

___________________________________________________________

The mood on the Andromeda Six is tense. Aya had gone after June after the announcement of the trip to Orion which left Calderon to pilot the ship. Ryona had gone to the med bay to begin her research on Vexx’s condition. Bash had gone to the cargo hold to investigate the goodies Alisa had bestowed upon the crew, leaving you alone with Vexx and Damon.

You shift uneasily from one foot to the other, terrified that one of them might attack the other.

“So we’re working together again?” Vexx grins as he holds the icy stare that Damon is throwing his way.

Damon’s icy exterior shifts into a grin. “Just like old times. Except don’t expect me to haul your ass out of trouble.”

“You never did any such thing.” Vexx retorts sliding back into the familiar banter with his old friend.

“Bull. Shit.” Damon enunciates. “How about that time you found a baby.”

“Oh my god. I forgot about Bryce.” Vexx smiles.

“I still cannot believe you named it Bryce.” Damon goes to lean against a wall, still cautiously eyeing Vexx.

“Bryce is infinitely better than Wilbur.” Vexx says as he crosses his arms.

“Hold up!” You say as your brain finally comprehends the conversation happening in front of you. “You two found a baby. And you named it?!”

“Well we weren’t just going to leave it.” Vexx says as he looks at you with genuine shock. “ What kind of monsters do you think we are?”

“Yeah, your majesty, shit, we weren’t about to leave a defenseless baby alone in the city’s underbelly.” Damon replies.

“There is definitely a story here,” You say. “I want to hear it.”

“How much time you got?” Damon asks. “We can give you the long version or the short.”

“Spare no detail” you say as you slide down the ship’s wall into a sitting position.

“Well it all started a few years ago. Carrot head and I were working together on a job for Zovack.” Damon explains. “I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard voices outside our shitty rented room.”

~2 years ago~

Damon walks out of the shower, his shirt clinging to his still damp skin. He looks around at the rundown motel room Vexx and he had to share. The room is dingy and dark. Only one of the bedside lamps worked, leaving most of the light to filter through the broken shades. The air conditioning in the room had long since stopped working. How this hell hole managed to draw in new customers was beyond him.

Where the hell is Carrot Head? Damon thinks. He walks to the mini fridge and is about to pop open a beer when he hears a voice. Instantly recognizing it as his work partner’s he heads in the direction of the sounds.

“Come on dude. Just tell me what you need.” Vexx says as he holds a very distraught baby by the armpits. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

Damon just stares at the scene. Vexx is still in the clothes he wore to bed the previous night, and the baby he is holding couldn’t be more than 7 months old. “What the fuck is that?!”

“It’s a baby dipshit, what do you think it is?”

“A fucking joke is what I think it is.” Damon says, still trying to wrap his mind around the situation. The smell instantly hits him. Damon’s nose wrinkles at the smell. “How hard did you get hit in the face last night?”

“Why?” Vexx asks turning his attention away from the baby to face Damon.

“Little dude needs his diaper changed.” Damon states. Vexx continues to stare at him blankly.

“What the fuck do I change it with?”

“Well I don’t think anyone will miss your pillow case.”

“Fuck, no.”

“Then we need to find a general store and hope they have a diaper or something.” Damon says hunching over and putting his hands in his pockets. This is certainly now how I wanted my only day off to go. He thinks to himself.

After fashioning himself a baby sling out of extra bedsheets, Vexx leads Damon to the general store in search of baby supplies.

“So how did you find this guy?” Damon asks.

“He was left alone outside the motel. I heard him crying as you were in the shower. You take long ass showers by the way.” Vexx says as he checks his holo pad with one hand and cover’s the baby’s head from the sun with his other.

Damon shrugs. “That chick’s body glitter was hard to get off.”

After walking in silence for several minutes, Vexx finally takes his eyes off the holo pad. “The extranet says that there is a family planning store about two miles from here, we should be able to find everything we need there for Bryce”

“Woah, hold on. You named it?! You can’t name it, you’ll get attached. You can’t afford to get attached because we’re not keeping him.” Damon pinches the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, taking a deep breath before continuing. “We need to find a hospital or one of Orsanna’s guards to take him.”

“We can’t just keep calling him, it, you idiot.” Vexx says. “You got a better name than Bryce?”

Damon studies the baby. “Wilbur.”

“That’s an old man’s name!” Vexx huffs.

“He kind of reminds me of an old man, he’s bald, he can’t take care of himself, and he shits his pants.”

“Wow,” Vexx says as he blinks, taken back. “You know I’m seeing a new side of you Damon and I don’t like what I see.”

Sighing and knowing he’s going to regret it the minute he asks. “Were you thinking we could keep him? What the hell would we do with him? Dress him in a top hat and a Kevlar vest and take him on missions with us like a little mascot?”

“I wasn’t thinking of a top hat….”

Damon actually stops in his tracks. “You cannot be serious.”

Vexx shrugs, “I always wanted a little brother.”

Damon continues to stare at Vexx in disbelief. “You’re shitting me right? Like actually shitting me.”

Vexx continues to walk to the family planning store all the while ignoring Damon’s nagging.

~~~~

“HOLD UP!” you shout. “You kept the baby?!”

“Would you let me finish.” Damon says crossing his arms.

“Yeah he didn’t even get to the good part where I get swarmed and propositioned by many beautiful women. Nothing wins ladies over like a baby.” Vexx smirks.

Damon rolls his eyes, “skipping that part. Anyway back to the story.”

~~~

Finally arriving at the family planning store Vexx consults with a manager who gathers up all the basics for Bryce. Meanwhile Damon tries to distance and distract himself from Vexx and Bryce. His distractions don’t amuse him for long and he finds himself saddling up to Vexx and the baby. “Are we done here-“

“Oh wow! What a cute baby! Are you the fathers of this little angel?! Oh I just love seeing young families out together.” An old woman steps up next to Vexx and coos over the baby. “What’s his name?!”

“Bryce”

“Wilbur”

Vexx and Damon find themselves saying the baby’s name simultaneously. Damon and Vexx share a look before Vexx recovers the situation. “His name is Bryce Wilbur, named after both of our fathers.” Vexx gives the old woman a charming smile.

Damon can’t help but roll his eyes. “Laying it on a little thick there bud.” He mumbles.

The old lady continues to coo at the baby until the smell coming from Bryce’s diaper has her recoiling. “Oh someone made a poopsies. Your daddies better change you.” She pats both boys on the arm and leaves.

Damon frowns at the old lady and helps Vexx with the bags full of baby supplies. The two of them leave the store and head back to their rented room.

Once in their rented room, Damon takes the baby from Vexx and cleans him up. “There you go, you little poop monster. Feel better now?” Bryce looks up at him and coos. “Fuck, you are pretty cute. You’re going to be a little heartbreaker one day, aren’t you?” Damon can’t help but smile at the baby. “We need to get him to a hospital or a guard.” Damon says as he looks in the direction of Vexx.

“Yeah, Yeah, you’ve said this before.” Vexx says popping open a beer and taking a long swig of it. “Let me shower, then we’ll find someplace to take him.” Vexx says with a hint of sadness.

Vexx emerges from the shower to the sight and sounds of Damon threatening their mark who is tied to a chair. Realizing Bryce is nowhere to be found, Vexx feels his heart speed up. There is no way Damon got rid of Bryce in the fifteen minutes I was in the shower… Could he?! Vexx wonders to himself. Vexx frantically looks around for Bryce. He starts to fear the worst when all of the sudden Damon turns around.

“You gonna help me with this bastard or not?” Damon asks.

Vexx notices Bryce strapped to Damon’s chest. His heart rate returns to normal, seeing that Bryce is safe. How Damon still manages to look menacing with a baby strapped to his chest is quite impressive in Vexx’s opinion. “Yeah I’ll take it from here.” A sinister grin forms on Vexx’s lips.

~~~~~

“OKAY! Spare some details!” You shout covering your ears. “I don’t want to hear how you two tortured and/or killed a man!”

“Kill?! How the hell are we supposed to get the money and manpower from him if we killed him?” Vexx asks matter of factly.

“I don’t want to hear it!” You say with a frown.

Damon waves his hand dismissively, “Alright, we will skip that part.” He’s about to launch back into his story when Calderon’s voice comes over the comms.

“Damon! I need you on the bridge!”

“Sorry, your majesty. We will have to finish the story another day.”

“I’ll finish the story.” Vexx throws a wink in your direction.

“Oh hell no!” Damon snaps, “You’ll lie and embellish the hell out of it and I’ll look like a complete asshole.”

“It’s not an embellishment if you did act like an ass.” Vexx retorts.

“Damon. Now.” Calderon’s voice echoes.

“To be continued, your majesty.” Damon says as he makes his way to the bridge to help Calderon.

#andromeda six #a6 #andromeda 6 #a6 fanfic #andromeda six fanfic #damon reznor #vexx serif #a6 damon #andromeda six damon #andromeda six vexx #a6 vexx #don't kill me #this was a dumb idea and i ran with it #i will finish it completely one day #but for now enjoy my idiot brain

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jemej3m · 5 years ago

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a comprehensive set of rules (part 1)

light and breezy!! (this is not a b99 au)

this is...long.

plot?????? what?????????

January:

“So you’re telling me,” Aaron repeated. “You’re pretty sure this guy is into some organised crime shit?”

Andrew made a noise, rolling over on his bed to press the phone between his ear and the pillow. Usually their calls were short and succinct, as was tradition ever since they departed from college - Andrew heading to Baltimore for policing academy and Aaron to Chicago for med-school - with Aaron doing most of the talking and Andrew occasionally humming in response.

Tonight Andrew was riddled with questions. Usually his moral compass was simple and easy to adhere to, but this was - to put it mildly - fucked. He didn’t care about authority, or loyalty to his police oath, but he couldn’t just screw a guy whilst suspecting him of murder. Or whatever Neil had gotten himself into.

You can’t talk, his own brain reminded him, so kindly, so gently. He made a scathing noise and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“A woman tried to kill him and talked shit about his family. You should’ve seen how bone-white he went at his father’s mention.”

“So - you’re just going to excuse him? On the basis of what, an inclination to murder is genetic?”

Sometimes it was genetic. Andrew almost laughed. Aaron heard the irony in his own words, too and grumbled out a low ‘Shut up.’

“He said he couldn’t date a cop, anyway.” Not that Andrew was interested in dating.

It did appear as though he and Neil was very incompatible: Neil didn’t do sex and relationships, was criminally inclined and had yet to text him since their disaster of a second date.

Andrew was only emotionally ready enough for casual sex, one-night-stands and loveless hookups, and didn’t exactly know whether or not he could ignore Neil’s background, seeing as every day he went in to work and interrogated perps with gang tattoos and blood still drying on their hands.

And yet.

Andrew still wanted to see Neil. See he was alright. Talk to him. Spend time with him. Andrew still wanted to try and set something up, something that’d benefit both of them, maybe a way that Neil could escape from his current life, a way for Andrew to get invaluable knowledge.

Andrew still wanted to try and have something with Neil. Not romantic. Not a relationship, or sex, or even friendship.

Just - something.

“That’s that, then.” Aaron said, unhelpful. “Nicky was all screechy about it on the phone. Said that the guy was cute. I bet he has no clue.”

“No,” Andrew agreed, making a mental note to check out ‘Allison’ and ensure his cousin was safe. “No clue at all.” He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.”

February:

“Shit,” Andrew muttered as coffee dribbled down his vest. The taser tucked into its pocket made an odd sound, as though it were drowning or something. He fished it out and sighed: Kevin, another fresh-faced detective who seemed to think he had the right to criticise Andrew’s every move, wouldn’t let this go. Andrew seemed to always be needing new equipment, so much so that Kevin had decided to photocopy the request forms and pin them snootily to Andrew’s desk.

Andrew hated Kevin. Renee had forced him to be civil, though, and he trusted his partner enough to listen to her advice.

“Didn’t see you there,” came a familiar voice. Andrew’s head snapped up: canvasing the truly miraculous sight that stood before him. “So sorry.”

Neil’d had his haircut since Andrew had last seen him, but he bore purple shadows under his eyes, his skin pale and sickly. A hood was drawn up, the sweater too large on Neil’s wiry frame. His jeans were loose too. He was far from the well-dressed bad idea Andrew had gone on two dates with, just over two months prior.

“Come into this cafe, officer,” Neil said, voice flat. “There’s a bathroom.” With that, he spun on his heel and marched back into the coffee-shop that he had no doubt been waiting outside of for Andrew to pass by.

Andrew followed silently, ignoring the lukewarm coffee that was dripping down his chest. There was a tiny bathroom with two cubicles, of which Neil somehow had the key for. He spun around and leant against the door, eyes dark.

“Neil,” Andrew said. “What the fuck?”

“I can’t be seen with you, or talking to you,” he managed, voice slightly raw. “Things are - not great, right now. I’m sorry I vanished.”

“You have to give me context,” Andrew insisted, stepping closer. “What the hell is going on?”

Neil shut his eyes. “If I promise you that I’ll explain everything, afterwards, will you help me?”

“I take my promises seriously,” Andrew warned.

Neil nodded weakly, wringing his fingers. “I know.”

Andrew sighed, taking some paper towel from next to the sink and patting himself dry. “What’s happening?”

Neil swallowed. “My father’s going to court, based on charges of tax evasion and money laundering.”

Andrew gestured for him to continue.

Neil hung his head. “I’m going to usurp him, him and his closest allies. I need a cop I can filter information through to, so that they can be locked up permanently. All five of them.”

“Someone once told me that they’d never be safe unless the threat was dead,” Andrew said, voice low. “You can’t fool me into thinking you just want them in jail.”

Neil had the audacity to look surprised, like maybe he thought Andrew wouldn’t remember. He’d learn to assume Andrew knew everything soon enough. “He has enough enemies that it’ll be taken care of, for me. Honest enough for you, officer?”

Andrew straightened out. “And when he and his crooks are gone? What then?”

Neil’s smile was almost sad. "Then I will take his place.”

“You could dismantle it entirely,” Andrew argued. “You don’t have to follow his footsteps.”

Neil just shook his head. “There are higher powers at work, Andrew. It’s my legacy: I have no choice." He in a shuddering breath. “If I could abandon it all, I would. I don’t want this life. I don’t want his name, or his smile, or his bloodthirst. I don’t.”

“Neil,” Andrew warned.

The man squeezed his eyes shut. “You know I watched him kill my mom? She didn’t want this life either. He was going to kill me too. Maybe he should have.”

“Neil.”

Andrew had the man’s chin pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his eyes.

“I’ll help you,” Andrew said, against better judgement. “Tell me your name and I’ll help you.”

Neil’s swallow was constricted, weighted. He took out a tiny slip of paper and tucked it into Andrew’s pocket. “I'm still Neil.” His inhale was desperate. “I am still Neil.”

Andrew nodded slightly, stepping back and watching as the man unlocked the door and slipped out.

Slowly - carefully - Andrew unfolded the little piece of paper.

It was a business card, the logo embossed into the paper.

Nathan Wesninski and Co. it read, accented with gold.

March:

“How the fuck...” Dan said, flicking through the file. She, Wymack and Renee all sat opposite Andrew, peering over his work with trepidation.

Under a strictly Need-To-Know policy, Kevin was excluded for his previous ties to Riko Moriyama, who was the son of a yakuza boss (though that was not widely known). Matt was excluded on the basis of too many mouths to control, though Dan would probably fill him in. Seth was excluded because he sucked and Andrew hated him. That left his partner, his captain and his sergeant, all of whom were mildly shocked that Andrew had picked up such a large and intricate case independently.

“How did you find all this?” Dan demanded, recoiling from the contents of his file. Beside the many photographs laid a dried chunk of flesh in a sealed bag, of which DNA tests would confirm to be Mary Wesninski’s, who vanished over 14 years ago. Neil said he’d cut it from the branching aorta of his mother’s heart, of which his father kept in a small container, alongside her tongue and eyes, seeing as his father would miss a whole organ, but not a chunk of the underside. He didn’t get his name the Butcher for nothing.

“Unless we have a weapon, or something with prints that connects Wesninski to that-” Wymack pointed to the piece of Mary’s heart. “It’s still circumstantial without your CI coming forward as a witness.”

“They will die,” Andrew said calmly. “I’ll keep working for a connection, but nothing about my CI gets published. Nothing.”

“Okay,” Renee agreed, smiling warmly as she rounded the table. She waited for his nod to drop a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles of warmth. “We’ll figure something out, Andrew.”

“I can’t believe we have a chance against Wesninski,” Wymack muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Not yet, we don’t.” Dan reminded him.

Not yet, Andrew agreed.

April:

Neil walked a slow circle around Andrew’s apartment, eyeing the windows and doors, the fire escape, the kettle, probably even the fucking toilet paper. Andrew watched as he toed off his shoes, pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands and finally joined Andrew in the living room.

“Got bored of figuring out the best point of exit?”

Neil scowled, settling on the couch beside him. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, yours wasn’t exactly an option, was it?”

Neil just drew his knees up to his chin, curling into a small ball on the couch. “The trial’s been set for late September.”

“I know,” Andrew agreed.

“You haven’t brought any evidence to the prosecutor yet.”

“I haven’t.”

“Was what I gave not good enough?”

“No,” Andrew grimaced. “A chunk of Mary’s heart tells us she’s dead. Without prints, or a weapon, or DNA evidence surrounding her body, there’s no way to connect Nathan to her death.”

Neil winced, teeth biting into his lip. The minute rocking back and forth was beginning to get on Andrew’s nerves. “I can’t...I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Andrew insisted. “We solve crimes for a living. There’s always an answer.”

Neil scoffed, body still shaking. “You’re probably aware of 20% of what goes on in this city.”

“So tell me the other 80.”

Neil stared.

Andrew gestured vaguely. “The different gangs, the territory lines, shoot outs and brandings and who’s having an affair with who. I don’t care. Just talk.”

“What good is gossip?” Neil wondered aloud.

“You’d be surprised,” Andrew said lightly, like this wasn’t completely for Neil’s benefit. He needed to get Neil out of his head. It looked like the man hadn’t sleep in weeks, his nails bitten down to the quick and body stiff with bandages. The fact that Andrew couldn’t help him much more than this - at least not now - was putting him through the wringer.

“Fine,” Andrew huffed when Neil wasn’t forthcoming, getting off the couch. From under the TV he grasped a random DVD and shoved it into the player that Nicky had bought for him a few years ago.

“What’s this?” Neil blinked, owlishly.

Andrew just dropped back down onto the couch. “Do you trust me?”

Neil looked at him, eyes narrowed.

Andrew reached out to push the long fringe away from Neil’s eyes. “Neil, do you trust me?”

“I...” he looked down to his hands. They slowly curled into fists. “I want to.”

Andrew tilted his chin up with the tip of his finger. For a moment there was nothing else, just blue and gold and fate and future. “Then believe me when I say I will find a way.”

Slowly, Neil nodded.

May:

“Dimaccio, Plank, and the Romero siblings,” Andrew leant on the table with his fists, the fies splayed out around them. “We lock them up, one by one. Nathan loses his circle, loses his security. He’ll put out the wrong foot without anyone else to fall back on.”

“Who should we start with, then?” Wymack inquired, letting Andrew steer this investigation down to the very last report signature.

Andrew arched an eyebrow, momentarily recalling the jagged scars on the inside of Neil’s elbows.

“She’d wanted to cut my tendons, once,” he said, before yanking down the sleeves again.

“Ladies first,” he told Wymack, picking up the photo of Lola Malcom and pinning it right into the centre of their case-board.

June:

Dimaccio snarled as he was lead away in shackles, hair shaved close to his skull. He was probably double Andrew’s height and width and had three police escorts shoving him into the back of a wagon. Across the back of his hand had been the characteristic X, the one Neil bore, the one Lola had worn too.

Two down, three to go, Andrew thought, something like pride grinning wolfishly within his chest. These were only the bail hearings: proper convictions wouldn’t be till the new year. It didn’t matter: so long as they were locked up, Andrew could move forward. Wymack stood beside him, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

“Nice work, kiddo,” the chief acknowledged, shaking out a cigarette and gesturing to the exit. Andrew followed.

Leaning against the courthouse’s sandstone exterior, Andrew stared up into the cloudless sky with an accusatory squint, till Wymack nudged him.

“Your phone’s ringing,” he muttered, cigarette drooping with ever syllable.

Andrew fished out the burner that he always kept tucked into his back pocket. He flicked it open immediately: there was only one person who had this number.

“Andrew,” Neil panted. “Thank god. Okay. Hi.”

“N -” Andrew glanced at Wymack before turning away. “What’s going on?”

“The chances of me being able to contact you from now on will be slim to none: with two of them gone, I have to step in.”

“Christ,” Andrew muttered, stubbing out his cigarette. “Where are you now?”

“Bathroom,” Neil muttered. “Some stupid event thing for his business front. I’m not who matters right now. Do you have family that’s traceable to you? A next of kin?”

“You’ve met Nicky and Erik,” Andrew said, suddenly cold all over. “My twin and his wife live in Chicago.”

“They should be alright,” Neil murmured. “But Nicky and Erik have to go. Can they win a flight overseas? I’ll wire you through money if you need it -”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sort it out.”

“You need to be careful,” Neil insisted. “He’s going to come after you. That’s twice your name’s been on the front of the arrest records. I’ve sorted something out, okay?”

“Forgive me if that sounds less that appealing.”

Neil laughed weakly. “It’s not a pretty solution, but it’ll work. You have to keep working, and if I can’t keep interacting with you without blowing this whole thing over, then our only choice is...”

“Allison,” Andrew muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

Neil hummed in agreement. “She’ll pick you up from yours in an hour. Be ready.”

“How does she know where I live?”

“Like she doesn’t track my every move, Minyard. She’s my accomplice. Gotta go, now. He’ll get suspicious.”

Something twisted in Andrew’s throat. “Stay safe.”

Neil paused, then mumbled “You too,” and disconnected the call.

Wymack was watching him with an arched brow.

Andrew shrugged. “My CI’s quick.”

“Unpredictable asshole,” his boss muttered, shooing him off with a derisive flick of his fingers. Andrew saluted him as he departed, before twisting on his heel and jogging back to his car.

“Guest room, guest bathroom, living room, kitchen, blah, blah.” Allison waved her hand around emphatically, her manicured nails glittering with rhinestones and pearls. They were probably real, if her apartment was anything to go by.

Everything was white, grey or pink, aside from the dark-oak parquetry on her floors. The marble countertops were polished to sparkle, every device in her kitchen practically unused. It was Nicky’s dream penthouse.

“It pays to murder, doesn’t it?” Andrew wondered when he’d inherited Neil’s loose tongue.

The look Allison gave him was withering. “I don’t murder. I clean up.”

“Because complacency is so much better than participation.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Nicky didn’t tell me you were a fucking cop. Would’ve never set you up on a date if I knew.”

“I’m going to have his father in max security by the end of the year,” Andrew reminded her. “Don’t make me abandon the case.”

She grinned. “You wouldn’t. He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” At Andrew’s glare, she waved him off. “Don’t worry: he’s just like that. I never said that I ain’t wrapped around his finger too. It’s impossible to not want to shield him away, wrap him in copious amounts of blankets, kiss his forehead and tell him it’ll be okay. I tried it once,” she grimaced. “It didn’t work.”

Andrew didn’t picture Neil, a mobster’s son, wrapped in blankets on Andrew’s couch, smiling (genuinely) as Andrew pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye. He did not picture that. He did not.

“For what it’s worth,” Allison said, in a voice softer than Andrew thought she was capable of as she looked out the enormous windows that overlooked Baltimore’s busiest district. “I’m glad he trusts you. And I’m glad you’re helping us.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Reynolds,” he pointed at her in warning. “I’ll lock you up too, if you give me a reason to.”

Her laugh was pearlescent, her grin cat-like. “Neil would scalp you before you could even say my full name. Don’t forget, Minyard,” she winked. “I’ve got him wrapped around my finger, too.”

this will continue in p.2 with july-december!! after that we’ll go back to our regularly scheduled softness and humour. i’ve already got another one-shot planned around kevin and neil.... :D

#andreil #mobster/cop au #pre-slash #plot!!!!!! what??????#neil josten #andrew minyard #butcher!neil #cop!andrew #p.1 #allison reynolds #david wymack #cop!foxes #this was getting too long i had to cut it half way #all for the game #aftg #im so gay for allison can u tell #jem writes

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shianhygge-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Sundown 勿忘草 [Reno/Reader]{Final Fantasy VII} Episode 2

AN: Here’s the next part of Sundown Wasurenagusa! I’m sorry that I’ve been slow on posting any new story material! I had a bit of a writers’ block, and I’m still trying to work through it!

I had intended for this to be much longer, but I felt like this part was a good length to post. The first part of this ‘episode’ is going to be formatted weird because I can’t get Tumblr to format a text conversation in the way that I want.

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|

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

December 12

Reno {07:10}

[Good morning, sleeping beauty]

Me {08:30}

[Morning]

[Do you not need sleep?]

[You probably went to bed late last night]

[And while it truly does make my day to hear from you]

[Why? It’s so early ;.;]

Reno {08:40}

[Can you blame a guy for being eager to talk to you?]

[Lol, Sorry. I didn’t disturb you, did I?]

Me {08:59}

[>///<]

[No, you’re good. I gotta get up to get ready anyways.]

[Flatterer]

Reno {09:34}

[I mean, can you blame me? ;) ]

[So, I was thinking about taking you on a date outside of Midgar, but I realized that I should probably get your opinion on it first]

Me {10:01}

[I mean, that depends? How early do I have to get up on my day off? And how long will it take to get there?]

Reno {10:05}

[Um… well, it’s getting pretty chilly in Midgar, so I was thinking about taking you to Costa del Sol… beach date :P]

Me {10:30}

[…]

[Costa del Sol is pretty far, Reno…]

Reno {10:31}

[And?]

[I’ve got a way]

[Don’t sweat the details]

Me {10:32}

[You’re taking a company helicopter, aren’t you -.-]

Reno {10:33}

[Ack! You’ve figured out my master plan!]

Me {10:34}

[Are Turks even allowed to take company assets out for joy rides?]

Reno {10:35}

[ TT^TT I told you not to sweat the details!]

Me {10:40}

[I just don’t want you to get into any trouble.]

Reno {10:50}

[Awww, don’t worry about me.]

[You have a party to attend later, so do me a favor and have fun, okay?]

Me {11:03}

[That reminds me…]

Reno {11:05}

[??]

Me {11:11}

[bluedress.jpg sent]

(The image is of you in a sapphire blue dress, the sleeves long and neck high. The dress itself ends just below your knees)

[This dress?]

[reddress.jpg sent]

(The second image is of you in a backless ruby dress that ends just above the knee. There are no sleeves to this dress despite the fact that it has a high neck)

[Or this dress?]

Reno {11:13}

[…]

[Y/N]

Me {11:15}

[Reno]

[???]

Me {12:01}

[If I don’t look good in either of them, just be honest ;.;]

Reno {13:05}

[Gah! Sorry, I got pulled away for something]

[The red one. For sure]

Me {13:06}

[Just because red’s your color… >.>]

[I hope you’re okay, Reno ;.;]

Reno {13:15}

[Hey, first of all, remember what I said about red being your color?]

[I don’t lie, k?]

[But also, yeah. Also because it’s my color, you should wear it ;)]

[Do you have a sixth sense or something?]

[image.jpg]

(Opening up the image file gifts you with a selfie of Reno, looking minorly roughed up and being supported by an infrantryman. He looks like he’s by the old church that Aerith likes to visit. Despite needing to be supported by the infantryman, the red headed Turk’s winking and holding up a peace sign)

[Just a few minor bruises ;P I’ll be fine]

[Unless….]

[You want to kiss me better? ;)]

Me {13:30}

[… Well. I’m sorry for worrying (¬_¬) ]

Reno {13:45}

[Joking, joking! :D]

[All patched up]

Reno {14:07}

[Y/N?]

(´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

[I’m sorry.]

[Please talk to meeeeeee]

Me {14:00}

[image.jpg]

(It’s a picture of you in the red dress. Your hair is done up with an attractive amount of make up. You’re wearing a sensible set of black flats.)

[The party starts in an hour, so I might be answering my phone too often.]

[And Costa del Sol sounds perfect for tomorrow ;) I’ve got my outfit all picked out]

Reno {14:15}

[Uh, yeah, that’s gonna be your new contact photo]

[I’m picking you up earlier than we agreed so that we can have more time to relax in the sun]

[Duty calls. Have fun tonight, okay?]

Me {14:20}

[And what? My contact photo for you is going to be this?]

[screenshot.jpg]

(It’s a screenshot of your mobile phone screen. There’s an edit with a red arrow pointing directly at the photo icon for Reno’s contact…it’s the photo that he sent earlier except you’ve photoshopped cartoon ‘uwu’ eyes and added pink anime blush to his cheeks)

[And don’t worry, I’ll probably have enough fun for the both of us.]

[We’ll have fun tomorrow, be safe, okay?]

Reno {14:30}

[I’ll try ;) But if not, I’ll have you to take care of me.]

[Also? That picture?]

[P.E.R.F.E.C.T]

Me {18:30}

[Hope you’re safe!]

[Message me after work to let me know you’re okay!]

[image-2.jpg]

(It’s a group photo of you and your friends in silly poses)

Me {19:21}

[image-3.jpg]

(It’s a close up shot of a delicious plate of food)

[I should have brought you with me ;.;]

|You called Reno| 20:58

[Unable to leave voicemail]

December 13 - 08:21

The morning after the confrontation with AVALANCHE at the Sector 7 Pillar, one would expect the medical bay in Shinra HQ to be jam packed full of patients. There should have been a horde of doctors and nurses, running around to treat the injured infantryman and civilian survivors. But there were only two individuals in the med bay, Reno and Rude. When the plate fell, only a handful of infantryman were able to escape the chaos. Many were left behind to fend for themselves.

Despite surviving a helicopter crash and the brawl with Tifa, Barret, and Cloud, Rude only sustained a few bruises and minor bone fractures. He had been assigned bedrest after being treated by the doctors, but the weight of what he and his partner had been tasked to do twelve hours ago felt like an overwhelming burden. Needing something to keep his mind occupied, the taller of the iconic Turk duo simply engrossed himself in a novel that Elena had brought over during her visit.

On the bed beside Rude’s, Reno groaned in pain as he sat up, eyes still not open and alert as he raised a hand to press against his pounding head. “Gah, what the hell.” Reno’s face stung at the cheeks when his face scrunched up at the pain that seemed to come from every part of him. Even the act of sitting up proved too painful due to his newly broken ribs.

Rude watched his partner sink back into the sheets from his own medical bed, sunglasses on as was usual of him. He wondered how long it would take Reno to realize that it had been nearly twelve hours since they had dropped the plate. He also wondered when his sassy partner in crime would realize that he had a date this morning. Of course, Rude didn’t think you’d get angry at Reno for missing a date when he was hospitalized, but the taller of the iconic Turk pair knew that Reno would never forgive himself for skipping out on you.

While Rude watched, Reno allowed his body to collapse back into bed, an exhausted and pained groan escaping his lips as he want, arms flopping onto the bed as he fought to remember what had happened to land him in such a pitiful state.

Oh yeah…Rude and I went to Sector 7’s plate… and we fought blondie’s group of self righteous freedom fighters… and then…I blacked out. Cracking both eyes open, Reno furrowed his brows and turned his head to examine his surroundings. Med bay back at HQ… The red head swiveled in place to stare at Rude, “The mission….” He trailed off with a questioning tone.

His partner merely grunted, “We finished it and escaped.” Lacking in detail, but still straight to the point.

Sighing in relief that his work track record wouldn’t have a stain on it, Reno flopped back down, “Whooo…” The red head cheered sarcastically, pumping a fist without any energy or cheer behind it. Gah, and I promised Y/N that I’d be safe… Reno’s eyes snapped open and he bolted to a seating position with an alarmed cry, “Crap! Y/N! What time is it?” Shit, I gotta message her to let her know that I’m going to be running late! The Turk second in command thought as he pat down his person for his cell phone.

When he couldn’t find it, Reno turned to his partner, who gestured towards the bedside table. “It was damaged during our fight with AVALANCHE, but it should still be working.”

Not paying any attention to the fact that he was now bleeding through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, Reno grinned, “Whooo boy! Partner, you’re a life saver!”

The sheer amount of relief within Reno voice made Rude stop and stare at his partner. Hmm… maybe Reno’s serious about her after all.

Meanwhile, Reno quickly unlocked his phone screen, ignoring the fact that the glass display seemed shattered beyond repair. When he pulled up the chat room that he shared with Y/N, Reno cursed, “Five missed messages and one missed call.” Quickly reading through the text messages, and smiling at how much fun you were having at the party, Reno tapped out a quick message in reply to you before listening to the voicemail that you had left.

Yesterday

Y/N {19:21}

[image-3.jpg]

(Reno’s mouth watered at the sight of the food in the picture)

[I should have brought you with me ;.;]

|Missed call from Y/N| 20:58

[Click to listen to voicemail]

Today - December 13

Me {08:43}

[Gah, sorry Y/N, I may have bit off more than I could chew yesterday.]

[I just woke up in the med bay at HQ]

[I’m going to be a little late picking you up]

[And I’m a little roughed up]

[But nothing is stopping me from taking you on our date!]

[See you in an hour?]

When Reno lifted his damaged cell phone to listen to the voicemail that you had left him, the only sound that reached his ears was an error notification that the voice recording app had failed. “I’m sorry, but the voicemail recording that you wish to listen to failed to load properly. Please quite all applications before trying again. If the problem still persists, please contact Shinra Mobile’s technical support service to resolve this issue.” The phone recording informed Reno, pleasantly.

Knowing from experience that getting through to technical support at the current hour was next to impossible, Reno merely tapped out another message.

Me {08:47}

[Hey, the voicemail that you sent to me didn’t go through.]

[What was it about?]

Satisfied with the messages that he’d sent out, Reno shifted to get out of bed, an excited grin on his lips. “Welp! Time to get going! Got a wonderful day off with a gorgeous gal!”

Sighing, Rude lowered the novel to look in his partner’s direction. “Your date with Y/N?” When Reno only gave a sassy shrug in reply, Rude shook his head, “Just remember, you’re still injured.”

“Will do, partner!” Reno saluted the older man before dashing out of the med bay, dodging the nurses swiftly as he made his way to the elevators, itching to get back to the Turk dorms to change into something that would help him blend into the slum crowds of Sector 5. On his way to his room, the red headed Turk would raise his phone to check for any new messages, lowering it in disappointment every time there was no response.

“That’s weird, normally she responds by now.” Reno mused, sending out another quick text once he’d changed into dark jeans, a red hoodie, and a dark beige trucker jacket.

Me {09:12}

[I’m on my way to your place now.]

[Are you awake?]

Around twenty minutes later, on the helicopter ride down to the Sector 5 slums, Reno furrowed his brows and bit the inside of his lip when you didn’t respond again.

Me {09:32}

[Y/N?]

[Please answer.]

[I’m on a helicopter down now]

[Message back. I’m getting worried.]

When there is still no response, Reno taps on your contact and brings the phone up to his ear, trying to call you.

“Hey, this is Y/N. I’m probably away from the phone right now, so leave a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as possible.”

Straight to voicemail.

Something wasn’t right, and Reno could feel it in his bones.

When the helicopter started to land in the Shinra barracks, Reno didn’t even wait for the helicopter to fully land before jumping out of the aerial vehicle, landing solidly before taking off in a sprint towards your apartment.

She’s not answer any of the text messages… Did she lose her phone last night? Did she accidentally break it?… Did she find out what I did yesterday? Is she ignoring me?

The worries and thoughts that raced through Reno’s mind became more and more self-depricating as he neared entered the main town area and brushed past the crowds of people gathered in the streets. I know I said it was too late to grow a conscious, but damn it, please don’t let this be the reason she decides that she doesn’t want me around.

All but flying up the metal steps to your apartment, Reno starts to bang on your front door, calling your name in the meanwhile. “Y/N!” Bang bang bang “It’s Reno!” Bang bang bang “You weren’t answering your phone. Are you ready to go?” It took another few minutes of knocking before Reno head a door open below and slow footsteps ascend the metal stairwell.

Turning and expecting to see you standing there, Reno’s shoulders visibly slumped when he came face to face with a tiny old lady. “Oh, uh. Sorry for causing a disturbance.”

“Are you looking for Y/N, young man?” The old woman inquired, tilting her head to look up at Reno through friendly old eyes.

Feeling as if he was being judged by the elderly woman, Reno stood ramrod straight and nodded, clearing his throat, “Uh, yeah. We had plans for today.”

The old woman nodded sagely, “I see, I see. Ah, to be young again. I’m sorry to disappoint you, young man, but Y/N hasn’t been home since yesterday afternoon. I think she’s still at her friend’s home.”

The first traces of alarm flashed through Reno’s head, and suddenly his Turk persona was back, “Do you happen to know where her friend lives, ma’am?”

The old woman shook her head, “I only know that dear Selene doesn’t live in Sector 5. I’m sorry, young man.”

Suddenly jittery, Reno only nods and descends the metal staircase again, “Thanks for the help. I should get going.”

Reno doesn’t hear the old woman’s reply because he’s sprinting back towards the Shinra barracks, ears ringing and vision narrowed as he contacts a friend in Shinra’s tech department for help tracking down your cell phone’s location and retrieving the voicemail you’d left him. And while his friend works on it, Reno decided to change into a clean set of his uniform, mind suddenly kicked into overdrive as he tries to recall where you said your friend’s party was.

Gah, Reno… you pay attention to everything else she says, but you can’t figure out where her friend Selene lives? Some Turk you are! Reno scolds himself as he paces back and forth in Y/N’s office, somehow trying to find comfort in familiar surroundings. Damnit, think! What has she mentioned in the past about her friends. I only remember her talking about living in Sector 7 for a whi- Reno pauses in his steps as dread begins to pool in his stomach. “No.” He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility that you had gone to a party at your childhood sector the same night that he was tasked with dropping the plate on top of hundreds. But the more that Reno thinks about it, the more likely the possibility is, and he sinks to his knees in the middle of your office, eyes wide with horror and denial. “No… I refuse to believe it. Gotta wait for-”

His phone chimes with a notification.

Pulling out his phone as fast as possible without fumbling the already hazardously damaged device, Reno unlocks the screen, only to see that a voice file had been sent to him along with tracking coordinates.

Clicking on the voicemail and tracker, Reno’s frown deepens and his face pales as he stares at the map of Sector 7 Slums with a red dot in the center of it, the sounds of your final message to him playing in the background.

No.

The voice recording loops until Reno regains his bearings, body shaking and eyes burning as his ears pick up the sounds of explosions in the background, of your sobs as you fought to leave a last message for the man who had thoughtlessly killed you, and of your fear and acceptance that you wouldn’t live past that moment. The phone slips from his hands and clatters to the floor as Reno’s fingers go slack. “No… I didn’t… Y/N…” A strangled sob escapes Reno’s lips as he raises a hand to grip onto his hair, trying to maintain his composure, “I didn’t mean to… If I’d known, I would have…” The Turk second in command paused and hunched in on himself, not caring if anyone could see him through the glass walls of your office.

M-maybe she left her phone behind when she ran? But… if she’s not there, then where would she have gone if not home?

There weren’t any excuses or any other reason he could come up with. Reno knew that. If he had known beforehand that you would be in Sector 7 Slums, he would have warned you, but you would have tried to evacuate as many people as possible from that sector, and AVALANCHE might have managed to leave, therefore ending in a failed mission. He would have done everything he could to make sure you stayed away from Sector 7, but in the end, he’d still go through with the mission.

“I killed her.” Reno sobbed in realization, biting his bottom lip so hard that he tasted copper, “Just like I killed all those people.” Shaking his head, inconsolable, Reno could only mourn quietly. “I’m just the worst. This is karma for all the shit things I did in life, isn’t it?”

Eyes dulled and slightly puffy, Reno hastily wiped at his face and sat down with his back against your desk, his phone ringing with notifications as Tseng and Rude sent him requests for ‘status’ updates. And the Turk second in command ignored his colleagues, eyes staring into nothingness as he wreaked his brain for what to do next.

I really was looking forward to the date. Reno’s thoughts trailed off, It’s sappy as hell, but I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend. Tseng said that relationships for Turks never ended well, citing Veld as an example, but… gah! This is the worst situation for Tseng to be right!

It was only the early afternoon… maybe he could start a search party for survivors… it was probably too late, but Reno knew that he had to do something to look for you. With renewed purpose, Reno got to his feet and marched out of your office, blue eyes burning with fiery determination as he hung onto the faint hope that you might have survived.

December 13 - 12:13

You groaned in pain and shifted your body, eyes cracking open to be met with blinding industrial lights. The pain from the glaring lights startled you into closing your eyes again, turning until your body was facing away from them. For a moment, you wondered why you were laying on some sort of weird metallic floor instead of your soft bed, and then the memories of a falling sky sent your eyes flying back open as you took in your surroundings.

The floor was indeed cold and metallic because it looked as if you’d woken up in a maintenance passage. Despite most maintenance passages usually being dimly lit, the one you found yourself lying in was lit from both of the walls. The ceiling above your face had a hole in it, though it was covered with metal and concrete chunks. You assumed, as you clambered to your feet, that you’d fallen through that hole and rolled a few feet away due to the pile of rubble directly beneath the hole. Wincing slightly, you poked and prodded your person for bruises, broken bones, or fractures. Slightly satisfied with just a few small skin lesions, bruises, and maybe a fractured rib, you patted yourself down for your mobile phone, hoping to call for help. Frowning, you found that you did not have your cell phone on you, nor was it anywhere on the floor near you.

Since you hadn’t expected to live through a plate falling on top of you, you could only look on the bright side of things, turning to walk down the metal tunnel with determination set on your face. I didn’t almost die from a plate falling just to give up in an empty tunnel. Plus, a fond smile appeared on your face, I have a date waiting for me when I get back topside.

It seemed pretty simple to you. You’d falling who knows how far down, but you knew for sure that the way out was up. So the only thing to do was to keep walking until you found a passage up. Easy peasy.

December 13 - 15:35

There’s a fierce snarl on Reno’s face as he stands by several parked helicopters. All around him, emergency responders and Shinra infantrymen scrambled to load up supplies and equipment. The dark look on the normally sassy, easy-going Turk’s face seemed like a literal beacon for anyone not bearing good news to stay the away. Though, if some of the troops were to be honest, Reno had very good reason to be irate. The Turk second in command had called in an emergency rescue operation for survivors trapped among the plate wreckage nearly three and a half hours ago, and they were only just beginning to start the rescue operation.

After Tseng, the Turk commander, had authorized the mission to rescue anyone buried under the rubble, the mission had quickly been side-tracked by Shinra executives Scarlet and Heideggar. Scarlet had protested against the operation simply because of the notion that dogs living in the slums were of no use to Shinra, and therefore, the mission was a waste of resources. Heideggar, meanwhile, had agreed that while in times of disaster, Shinra’s army bore the responsibility of launching operations to rescue civilians affected, the members of AVALANCHE were widely unknown and could easily disguise themselves as regular civilians.

It took nearly two hours of careful negotiations and subtle ego inflating by Tseng and Reeve, before both executives agreed to support the relief effort. Viewing it as a strategic move to improve public opinion of the Shinra Company, President Shinra gave little to no resistance when Tseng forwarded the mission brief to be sanctioned.

Now, an hour after the mission was sanctioned, Reno felt the beginnings of a headache forming as he directed the flow of supplies to each helicopter before making sure that there were rotations of supplies and emergency responders that would journey to and from the wreckage of Sector 7 once he landed with the first round of helicopters.

When he had deemed all in good order to head out, Reno sighed and hopped into the helicopter cockpit, buckling himself in to the pilot’s seat. Plopping the headset on while he waited for the rest of the crew to load up into the helicopter, Reno busied himself with flipping switches to make sure that pre-flight and the ride down to Sector 7 would be as smooth as possible. When his co-pilot buckled himself in and gave Reno the thumbs up, the red headed Turk spoke as clearly and seriously as he could into the mic. “Alright guys and gals in all active units, hope you’re all buckled up with headsets on because I sure as hell will not be repeating this briefing.” After a brief pause, Reno continued to speak while directing the helicopter off the platform. “You all probably heard about what happened yesterday. The official reports from HQ state that AVALANCHE launched an attack to compromise Sector 7’s plate pillar. Despite all efforts directed to stop the terrorist attack, the plate still fell. Our job is to go down to the disaster zone to provide relief to all affected civilians. We will also be launching search and rescue operations for survivors.” Reno paused once more as helicopter gained enough air to safely fly out of the landing zone. “I’m gonna be real with you all. Someone important to me was in Sector 7’s Slums when the plate fell and I’m going to try my damnest to look for her. So if any of you fuck this up… not gonna lie, I’m gonna be pissed.” Nobody replied to Reno’s admittance… not that he really expected much of a reply after he dropped that bomb on them. Having enough of the silence, Reno exhaled, “Alright… good talk.”

December 13 - 16:03

It wasn’t easy peasy. Definitely fucking not.

The chrome walkways and exposed piping-lined maintenance passage that you had fallen into hadn’t been a simple few meters under the surface as you thought. No. It’s was more like several meters down with a layer of minor blocked off passageways right above. And, as if that weren’t terrible already? The maze of pathways that made up the layer above seemed to take joy in bringing you up a level, just to drop you back down a level because some asshole decided to seal off the passages at various points.

Your eye twitched in annoyance when you walked down a metal walkway only to be face to face with another fenced off passage lined with reinforced plating. To your surprise, you could see a man stumble around the corner of the opposite side. When you saw one another, your eyes widened. “Holy shit!” The man gasped, stumbling forward with a noticeable limp and sliced up arm. “I didn’t think there’d be another person down here!”

“This place is like a maze, so I’m not surprised that any survivors had yet to meet up. A-are… are you okay?” The blood leaking from the deep scratches in his left arm seemed to ooze a poisonous purple color.

The stranger bit his bottom lip as he hastily hid his injury, “Yeah… I’ll be fine. Listen, girl, you should watch out while down here. I think the rumors about the underground lab were true after all. There are monsters running around everywhere.” Your expression must have been one of utter dismay and despair because the man coughed and reached into his pocket to roll two materia under the fence. “Uh. Shit. Well, it looks like you could use these then. It’s a Cura and a Fira. Hopefully you won’t need it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Anyways, I hope you make it out of here, girl. I gotta keep looking for other AVALANCHE survivors.”

When the man made to jog away, you called out to him, “Wait! You said that you’re looking for AVALANCHE members? Are you one of them? Do you know what happened?” You pressed yourself against the fence in order to see the stranger from around the corner.

The stranger turned around to stare at you with a grim expression. “Whatever you’re thinking, AVALANCHE didn’t cause this, okay? We were framed by Shinra.” At your confused expression, the man scoffed, “C’mon, you really think that Shinra was going to let civilians protest and riot against them? They couldn’t figure out who was a member and who wasn’t, so they figured they’d drop the entire plate on top of us to get rid of us all.”

“But that’s such a drastic move!” You protested, wanting to believe that your employers wouldn’t have such blatant disregard for human life. “They wouldn’t just sacrifice thousands to eliminate AVALANCHE!”

“Believe what you want, girl. But the reality is that my friends and I all went to the pillar to stop Shinra from dropping the plate, and it dropped anyways because two Turks were sent to finish the job.” The stranger didn’t allow you to retort as he limped away. Not that you would have responded anyways with how the stranger had said that two Turks had arrived to help ensure that the Sector 7 plate dropped.

Pulling away from the fence, you knelt down to pick up the two orbs of materia, the color of your skin taking on a sickly pale pallor. Two Turks were sent to the pillar to drop the plate on top of all of us. Your mind instantly supplied the first Turk pair that you could think of and you felt like you were going to dry heave. I don’t know Rude too well, but from what I know, he and Reno wouldn’t do something so horrendous. Surely, there must have been another pair of Turks who were sent to do it. But you did work in a different department as them, how did you know that there were more members of the Turks? And with Reno’s position within the group… He could have known what was happening…

You told Reno that you would be hanging out with your best friend… that you guys were having a party. He’s smart enough to deduce that your friends still lived in Sector 7… Did he forget? Or… Your stomach churned violently as you sank to your knees on the cold metal walkway. Did Reno just decide he didn’t care if I survived or not?

The edge of your vision burned with tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. A simple blink sent them trailing down your cheeks as you stood upon shaky legs. “Can’t worry about that now.” You muttered, eyes filled with determination as you gathered the excess fabric of your dress to gird up your loins. “I need to find a way out of here. The tunnels might not be able to hold for long.”

Lifting your arm, you pressed one of the materia into your forearm, like you’d seen a few SOLDIERs do before, marveling at how the orb of power sank into the flesh of your arm. Smiling at how seamless it was to merge flesh with Materia, you pressed the other faintly glowing orb into your other forearm, concentrating for a bit before casting Cura upon yourself.

Newly rejuvenated, you back tracked through the metal corridor to find the ladder leading down. “Welp, there’s no time like the present,” you mumbled to yourself as you descended further into the tunnels below.

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

#shian imagines #final fantasy vii #Final Fantasy 7 #ffvii #ffviir #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii:remake #reno #reno x reader #final fantasy vii reno

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vindogy · 5 years ago

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Part 4 of the Skully ask that turned into a whole AU

(A little somethin extra at the end too)

After a concerning amount of time, Brian finally began regaining consciousness. Opening his eyes and letting out a few groans of pain, wincing at the soreness of his body, he looked down and instantly realized he was bound to the chair he was so familiar with. No longer having his vision obscured as he was so used to having, he realized his mask was off. He set his sights on Jay, giving him a knowing glare. He stayed silent, his gaze burning into Jay, but didn’t struggle from his position. All he had was an intimidating expression on his face that Jay wished was aimed at someone else. Mustering up some courage, Jay decided to break the silence at long last. But to his surprise, it was Brian who spoke first.

“Y’know, there were better ways to do this.”

Jay gasped in surprise. He assumed that one-word answers were all Brian could manage at this point, but it looked like that wasn’t the case. Brian continued speaking, a sly grin beginning to spread across his face, despite the several bruises and bloodstains.

“For starters, this chair is barely being held together after Tim nearly broke it. Metal’s bent, and I could struggle out pretty easily. Second of all, you can’t tie knots for shit. I already got a little wiggle room and I didn’t even move yet. Third…”

Brian turned his gaze to Tim, who was still crouched down and silent.

“… have you forgotten? We’re a team. I know how to control him, you don’t. Hell, I could tell him to kill you right now and you’d be none the wiser.”

Jay looked down in shame. He really didn’t think this through, and Brian was making sure he knew that.

“Seriously, what were you thinking? I don’t blame you though. I’ve seen how you act. You can be pretty damn stupid sometimes.”

Jay wanted to respond to the insult, but he couldn’t think of an adequate response. Brian let out a laugh and looked down at the blood dripping onto his jeans. He looked back up and flashed a crimson smile at Jay.

“But let’s say you weren’t a dumbass. Let’s say you took me far into the forest, Tim nowhere in sight. You tied me tight enough to make my limbs numb, and you have a jagged knife in your hand, ready to cut me up and bleed me like a pig if I don’t answer your questions. Let’s say you’ve absolutely broken me, and I’m sitting here crying in pain, begging you not to tear into me anymore. My eyes are gouged out, my clothes have been torn off, and you’re there making sure I feel as much pain as possible. Even then, I wouldn’t tell you jack shit. Let’s say you’ve trained Tim and you’re making him crush every bone in my body into fine dust. Hell, let’s say you’ve buddied up with Alex and he’s siccing The Operator on me, making me live through a thousand years of pain in one minute. Even then, I won’t tell you shit!”

Brian let out another laugh, taking sick pleasure in describing his own brutal torture.

“But none of that’s happening. You’re here, having me tied onto a flimsy chair, right next to one of my most vicious partners, and you didn’t even have the brains to gag me! You’re a real riot, Jay, I’ll give you that.”

In an instant, his tone shifted drastically, now looking at Jay with a stone-cold expression.

“But this is all so, so, so useless. Curiosity killed the cat, Jay, and right now you’re looking like a nice defenseless cat caught in a bear trap, surrounded by nature’s top apex predators. Why don’t you give me a reason to not kill you where you stand?”

Sweat was running down Jay’s back. He was terrified. Brian was not like this at all. Not the Brian he knew. Jay stuttered, trying to think of a valid reason that wouldn’t get him killed.

“W-well… you uh… y-you need me!”

Brian raised an eyebrow and smirked. Jay knew exactly what Alex was feeling when he told him to wipe that stupid smile off his face.

“I do?”

Jay tried his best to hide his fear. The shuddering overtaking his body was on obvious tell that he was very bad at hiding it.

“Y-yeah. You and T-Tim can’t take on Alex. Y-you’ve tried before! You need me!”

Brian looked to the side and nodded.

“Alright. Fair point. You can live for now, but if you t-”

“Wait!”

Jay made a sudden and brave interruption. He wanted answers, not another reason to fear the hooded man. Brian seemed surprised by the sudden courage as well.

“Whoa. Didn’t know you had the guts to interrupt me when I’m talking. What do you want?”

Jay stopped shuddering. He had to find out at least one thing.

“Why does the mask calm Tim down? Why does the mask turn him into that?”

Brian gave Jay a pained smile, looking like he’d been wanting to answer this for a long time.

“Aw well, that’s easy. See, when Timmy boy doesn’t get his meds, he gets real, real angry. It was always a slight problem. Back in college, the worst that would happen is that he’d lash out and maybe yell, but that’s about it.”

Brian paused for a moment, and Jay swore he saw a look of guilt in Brian’s eyes.

“But then enter Alex and The Operator. Yeah, that thing had latched onto Tim, but he did a pretty good job at not letting it get to him. Alex, on the other hand, oh boy. One encounter, and he’s out here killing people left and right, unknowingly feeding that thing. The Operator is a pretty messed up thing, y’know? If it doesn’t swallow you up in its dimension to keep your hopeless corpse in for god knows how long, it’ll instead chew you up and spit you out, breaking your mind in the process. Happened to me, happened to Tim, and now it’s happened to you.”

Brian’s eyes began to water, yet his voice didn’t waver.

“And man, let me tell you, it fucking sucks! Tim got even more violent before I was even there to intervene. He’d go on rampages late at night, running around the forest and tearing up all those poor innocent animals he saw. Dude was strong enough to take down a deer with his bare hands. That’s pretty impressive, ain’t it? Too bad I didn’t get any superpowers. All I got was a nasty cough and the worst trauma of my life!”

Brian’s voice was now breaking. He was beginning to lose his composure.

“You know how it feels to wake up one morning with no memory of what happened last night, and suddenly realizing that you don’t care about anyone anymore? I could cut up my own parents with a rusty razor, hear them cry my name and beg for mercy, and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing! Not even a drop of remorse, nope! And believe me, I wish I could. I wanted to care so much. But now, I couldn’t give a damn about what happens to anyone! Not even myself! I can’t live a normal life anymore. Society would lock me up and let me rot. I can’t have friends, I can’t have a family, I can’t have anything a normal person can have! And you know what? I’d prefer being dead!”

Brian let out a shaky laugh, several tears dropping onto his hoodie. He was vulnerable right now. Going against his morals, Jay decided to take advantage of this.

“Is that why you want to go to the ark?”

Brian immediately stopped. He looked up, his intimidating glare having returned. But just as soon as it came, it left. Tears welled up as Brian burst into tears, finally letting out years of pent up trauma and grief.

“Yes! Yes goddammit. I saw it! I saw the ark and by god, it was the worst experience of my life, but it has SOMETHING. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to how I used to be. I want to. I want that life back so bad. I want all those lost years back. I want to have hope in the future, but right now I’m feeling that the only thing the future has for me is my lifeless corpse in the middle of nowhere.”

Brian took a moment to compose himself. Despite easily being able to free himself from Jay’s restraint, he chose not to do so. Jay wondered if this was a sign of submission.

“You though. After all those years, you began watching those tapes. You learned everything. And all of the sudden, I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a little sliver of hope in my life once more.”

Brian gritted his teeth and shook his head, regaining his anger.

“But you weren’t doing ANYTHING helpful. You just walked around like a headless chicken, getting yourself in spats with Tim. And then one day you team up with Alex despite knowing damn well something was up with him, and together you fucking broke Tim’s leg. No Jay, you weren’t just not doing anything. You were actively HURTING my efforts. You made it all worse getting all inflammatory with Tim. And I went back to being alone. Even more alone than before, since you took Tim along with you only to traumatize him even more.”

Jay immediately snapped back, shocked at Brian’s lack of self-awareness.

“I’m the one who traumatized him? Don’t you think treating him like your personal attack dog would have a worse impact on his psyche?”

Brian lashed out at the accusation, though Jay could see his facade beginning to break.

“Doesn’t matter what I do to him when he’s like that. He doesn’t remember any of it anyways. Unless of course, two lanky idiots decided to break his leg. That would matter quite a bit.”

Jay was getting heated as well. He knew that he wasn’t the most responsible decision maker, but Brian had a lot to be blamed for as well.

“You kept stealing his meds. You forced him into that state, robbing him of the normal life he tried so hard to have. He can’t hold steady work, and his mind is getting worse and worse every time you use him like that. Does that not matter to you?”

Another flash of guilt appeared in Brian’s eyes. He tried to deflect it once more.

“What matters is getting rid of The Operator. One casualty is nothing compared to the damage it d-”

“You never answered my question.”

Brian paused.

“Huh?”

“I asked you why the mask calms Tim down. Answer me.”

Brian’s face got red.

“Well, it’s because uh. . . it reminds him of the old days. I did my research. Back when he was being hospitalized, they’d always place a mask over his face to administer anesthetic to get him to calm down. Tim was too violent, though, so a normal mask wouldn’t work. They had to lock up his entire face into a heavy-duty one, made so that it couldn’t be ripped off or broken. Any time he wears that mask, it reminds him of those times. By instinct, it makes him calm and obedient.”

Jay shook his head as he glared at Brian.

“You’re fucked up. Don’t you feel any pity for him?”

Brian stayed silent.

“Well, do you? Tim was your best friend. Surely you feel at least SOMETHING for him?”

Brian bit his lip as he tried to stop the tears from flowing once more. He remained silent but pensive.

“What even is the ark, Brian? What is this thing you deem so important that you’re willing to ruin your best friend's life to even get a chance of seeing it?”

Brian looked up. His violent spirit had also been calmed, replaced with a softer tone that Jay could tell had a lot of fear behind it.

“The ark is where The Operator keeps all its victims. I saw it when Alex fed me to that thing. An ever-growing empty landscape filled with bodies. Some still conscious, but their minds gone. Some rotted, some freshly killed. Some still crying for help. The Operator feeds off of their despair. It prefers people on the brink of death, so it can suck out as much despair from them as possible. It keeps the corpses to induce even more despair into those who go into it.”

Brian’s gaze went off into the horizon, empty and unblinking, as he remembered everything.

“You’re a religious guy, aren’t you Jay?”

Jay nodded.

“You know the story of Noah’s Ark? Of course you do. There’s a reason why I call this place The Ark.”

Brian grinned for a moment before returning to his somber expression.

“There’s two of each.”

“What does that mean?”

Brian bit his lip once more, this time drawing blood.

“Every person in the world you can think of. A shy lonely man with social anxiety and a knack of bringing danger to his friends. A troubled man running from his past. A cheerful girl who dated the wrong man. Any person you can think of, any combination of traits or personality, anything. Absolutely any and all people you can think up of, no matter how specific, The Operator wants two of. Doesn’t matter how unique you think you are. In there, at some point, you’ll eventually find someone just like you. And that’s when you lose all hope. That’s when you realize that if someone just like you never escaped, you’ll never escape as well. How you’re just a bag of flesh with no purpose. And that’s when The Operator digs in, having the biggest feast of a lifetime.”

Brian took a deep breath, having to compose himself yet again. The stoic personality he kept in his hooded form had shattered thanks to Jay’s conversation.

“The Operator loves taunting us. Sometimes it’ll toss you into the ark without a second thought, wanting you to feel nothing but despair. But I want to go there. I know better. I can go in there with hope and help people escape. The more I help, the more people that can help others. It only takes one hole to sink a boat, after all. Once the ark is empty, The Operator has nothing left to feed on. From there, it’ll starve. And that’s one less horror the world has to deal with.”

Brian’s gaze suddenly turned hopeful.

“And that’s where my plan comes in. If I can get into the ark without being on the brink of death, I can save someone. Just one person. That alone would be enough to hurt The Operator and leave it from attacking us ever again. But that’s not what I want. I want it dead.”

Brian looked up at Jay, his eyes now kindled with a familiar warmth behind them.

“Catch my drift?”

Jay nodded. Brian had completely changed from the psychopathic sadist he was before this. Was a good conversation all he needed? Jay’s internal questioning was interrupted by Tim shuffling in front of Jay. This reminded Jay of another point he wanted to address.

“Wait! What about Tim? Do you really want to keep him like this?”

Brian nodded, then paused, shook his head, then nodded again.

“I uh. . . I don’t know. He’s more useful this way for sure but. . . if you take that mask off him and give him his meds again, he’ll be fine. But is that what you want? How do you think he’ll react to seeing you, not only still alive, but in cahoots with his presumed dead best friend who ended up being his stalker all along. How do you think he’ll react knowing that two of his closest friends brutally attacked him and broke his mind? Do you think he’ll be cooperative?”

Jay was stuck. Brian had a good point. Turning Tim back to normal would cause a lot more problems, and chances are it would traumatize him more than anything. But keeping him as an obedient, unthinking bodyguard felt wrong, and would only worsen his mental state. Meanwhile, Brian had already freed himself and was standing next to Tim, a bottle of pills in hand. He could tell Jay was having a rough time deciding.

“Well, what’ll it be Jay? Free him, or keep him masked up for a while longer?”

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

(Surprise! I don’t know how to follow this up so I’m just gonna say fuck it and let whoever cares enough about this to choose. Of course, if I get requests for both I’ll write em both, but I’m interested to see where people's hearts lie in this situation.)

#mine #marble hornets #long post

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emma-nation · 5 years ago

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Thinking Of You (Mona x MC Fanfiction) - Chapter 8

You said move on Where do I go? I guess second best Is all I will know

Summary: Years later, Allison has everything she wants, a brand-new internship as a doctor, a handsome boyfriend… but her first nightshift won’t go as expected…

Genre: Romance, Angst

Tag list: @zoe6111, @simsvetements, @mvrinettes, @whoinvitedalx, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @abunchofbadchoices, @kamilahmademedoit, @janurary, @talkinlikeateen, @eagle-one-1, @andreear17, @tia-bi, @monagf, @monahott, @fal-carrington, @crazzyplays, @honorablebicycle, @teja-desai (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

Notes:

- English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes.

“Party, Allison?” Mr. Wheeler questioned. “This is how you intend to catch a serial killer? By taking her to a party?”

“Dad, first we need to get the seller,” she explained. “And what place is better than a party to catch a drug dealer?”

“I did not assigned you to the mission so you could hang out with her. You have a fiancé, don’t you remember? And besides, there will be alcohol, sex and...”

“We’re no longer teenagers, dad. We know what we’re doing, right Mona?”

Mona was not even paying attention. She was sitting on the couch, focused on Allison’s laptop. She wasn’t hearing a single word of the argument, she just kept a concentrated look on the screen, while she typed uninterrupted.

“What?” She finally asked. “In case the two of you haven’t noticed, I have an essay to finish.”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Mr. Wheeler told. “Bring me more suspects, more evidence. This is what you’re supposed to be doing in college. Once the mission is over, you’re out.”

“Right, I forgot that wasn’t for people like me,” she scowled, closing the laptop. “Thanks for the reminder, Pops.”

Mona left to the bedroom, leaving Allison alone with her father.

“Dad, she has been so engaged with this college thing. Why did you have to ruin it?”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Allison. That’s the truth. They’re only allowing Mona there for the mission.”

“B-But can’t we arrange anything, after this is over? I mean, look at her essay. She’s so incredibly smart. All the teachers are commenting her performance in classes. It’s the first time I really see her finding pleasure in anything, other than... her past habits.”

“I’m sorry, honey. This isn’t my business and neither should be yours. She has made her own choices and there’s nothing we can’t do to change it.”

Allison went to check on Mona, but after the argument with Mr. Wheeler, she was no longer social or even accessible. She followed to the guest room, where she was supposed to have one final conversation with Griffin about their engagement. Though he was online, he took a long time to pick up the call.

“Allison, baby. Hey.”

“Hey Griffin,” she sighed. “Do you finally have a moment so we can speak? It has been days I’ve been trying to...”

“I’m sorry, I’m very busy right now. Yellow Fever epidemics. Too many patients to check.”

Another excuse. Allison rolled her eyes. It was almost like he knew what she was about to tell him.

“It’s only for a few minutes,” she insisted, losing her patience. “Come on, you had time to fly to Spain over the weekend, but you don’t have a minute for me?”

Griffin’s expression suddenly darkened.

“S-Spain? I’ve never been in Spain, Allison. I’m trapped here in this small village, without internet signal most of the time. Trust me, we barely have water to drink!”

“Well, your phone was displaying a different location a few days ago.”

“Oh...” he looked down for a moment, pensive. “I had to sell my old phone. That’s it, the new owner must have forgotten to disable my ID. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem, now can we...”

A message of lost signal was displayed on her screen. Allison punched the keyboard, frustrated.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

----------

When Mona woke up in the morning, she was still in a bad mood because of the Detective, who was only using her to do the job he was unable to. Things only got worse when she had an accidental meeting with Allison. In the bathroom. When she had just finished. What lead them to be awkward around each other for the next hour.

"My bad," she was getting used to pronounce those words.

"There'd be no problem, Mona," Allison's cheeks went red again, "if you hadn't stared for so long."

"I was only appreciating the view. I hadn't seen it in a while, so..."

"No! Please, can we just forget it?"

"It'll be kinda hard, but I promise I'll try my best."

"Mona!" Allison's face was reaching a new shade of red.

"Consider it unseen," she spoke as Detective Wheeler arrived in the kitchen. "But I liked it," she whispered.

Allison's father interrupted them with another command. The University's basketball team would be hosting a 'Welcome Game', though Mona didn't have the smallest interest in attending, now she'd be forced to.

"Keep an eye on your suspect," he ordered, "and on this guy."

He showed the picture of a slender young male.

"He's the star of the team. Has been reported to be exhibiting abnormal behavior over the last few weeks. Watch who he speaks to, before and after the game."

She didn't have much work, as soon as they arrived in the University, the famous basketball star was casually chatting with Brian, who went back to his dorm carrying a small package.

"It'll be easier than I thought," Mona thought, snapping some pictures.

Later in class, she finished her lab experiment before any other students, so she took the time to search for places to take Allison after the game, as an apology for the morning incident.

"How do you even do that?" Her lab partner whined by her side.

His name was Leon, the leader of the RPG club, and only member too. He bonded with Mona for being rejected by the rest of their classmates as well. Later, they found out they had more in common than they could’ve imagined. He was in love with a med student, who was already committed to another guy.

"Using my brain?"

"I'm using mine, but it just... don't react!"

"Like this," Mona did all the procedure again, triggering the correct chemical reaction.

"B-But..." Leon stared at her in shock. “I followed all the instructions!”

"Now write your report, I'm not doing this for you either."

As they finished writing, they began to chat. She learned Leon had good computer skills, what could be useful at some point, in case they needed to hack Brian's phone to obtain proof.

"And how are things going with Allison?" He wanted to know.

"The same," she told, hopeless. "She hasn’t broke up with the douchebag yet. I guess I’ll just have to force him out of my way.”

"Are you bringing her to the game tonight?"

"Yes, I was kinda planning something special for after the game, but I don't really know what she likes."

"Bowling Alley," he suggested. "They have this fabulous milkshake and I've managed to achieve success with a couple of dates in there."

"Thanks for the tip."

---------

"So let's recap the plan," Allison said before they entered the stadium. "I'll seduce Brian, while you break into his dorm room and get pictures of the drugs."

"He's a bastard, Allison," Mona disagreed. "I couldn't let you do this alone. You're coming with me, I've assigned someone else to keep an eye on him. While he's distracted at the game, both of us will break into his dorm."

"D-Did you told someone else about the investigation? My dad said we should be as secretive as possible."

"We could use a hacker. Besides, Leon is like a fluffy unicorn. Loyal as a puppy."

Before they follow to the basketball game, Mona inhaled deeply, getting courage enough to ask.

"Hey Allison, would you like to do something after the game? Leon suggested we should go to the Bowling Alley, but he has been developing this stupid game, and... I don’t wanna go by myself."

She knew things didn't end well the last time they went out, but this time was different. Allison had clearly expressed she was no longer interested in keeping her engagement.

"No. Way." Allison frowned, scaring her a little. Then, her expression softened again. "You're not allowed to make such an effort yet, remember?"

"Oh, the doc's back," Mona smiled. "Anyways, he said they have a great milkshake. We don't really have to play it."

"So I'm definitely in!"

Leon was sitting in a strategic spot as combined between he and Mona. For her surprise, and displeasure, there was somebody else among the crowd, sitting in the VIP area, her father.

"What on earth is this guy doing here?" She angered. "He's clearly stalking me!"

Soon she got her answer. Before the game started, he was announced as the team's new sponsor. He looked at her and winked.

"I wish I could just go down there and pull this smirk out of his face!"

"Hey," Allison held her steady. "Focus! You said he's no threat. Let's stick to our plan."

Through his laptop, Leon sent her a message. Brian had arrived and was sitting only a few meters away, in the middle of a group of girls.

"We're good to go."

Leaving the stadium, they followed straight to the male dorm. The game was only getting started, what meant they'd have a decent amount of time to search for evidence.

"Do you have his room's number?" Allison asked.

"Yes," Mona answered. "It's right around the corner."

At the corridor, they bumped into another person. Krista. She was just leaving one of the rooms.

"Remember, Doug. Ezekiel 18:21 for our studies this week. See you there!"

"Hide me, please," Mona begged, but it was too late. She had been spotted.

"Mona, hi!" The girl greeted. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the game."

"I... uh... Leon, my classmate. He forgot his wallet in his dorm room. I came here to get it for him."

"And this is...?" She looked at Allison.

"Allison," Allison introduced herself. "You look strangely familiar, have we met before?"

"Hmmm, I don't think so."

"Yeah, I'm much older than you anyways."

"Hey Krista," Mona decided to mess up with her a little bit, as a payback for the other day. "I've decided to get rid of my sinful car. I'd like to purchase one exactly like yours, how much did you pay for it?"

"Good for you, Mona," she looked a little bit unsettled. "I don't know how much it costed, it was a gift from my godfather. Anyways, I should go now. I have an essay to finish."

With a satisfied look, Mona followed to Brian's room where she started picking the lock.

"Remember, your dad said I could do anything to obtain proof. Right?"

"Yes," Allison confirmed. "I'm your witness."

As the door opened, they both covered their noses.

"Ugh, it smells like rotten cheese," Allison commented.

The room was an extreme mess, it was hard to decide where to start looking for evidence. Mona started by Brian's computer, where Allison opened opened some drawers.

"No way I'm touching that pile of clothes in the corner of the room," she told. "It stinks like something died under it."

"It can't be more disgusting than that," Mona pointed to the computer screen. "He's ranking the freshmen girls and... I've got a 10, for the tough girl attitude?"

"Not even Brian could resist you, huh?"

"No one can, babe. No one."

There was nothing on his e-mail, except for Football Newsletter and party advertising. Mona sighed frustrated.

"If you were hiding your drugs, where would you hide them?"

"Under the mattress?"

"Good one," Mona lifted up the mattress a little bit, to find... romance books. "Really?"

"Come on, he deep down he must be a softie! So, in the closet maybe?" Allison suggested, but before they could even act, the door opened. Brian was back earlier than expected.

“What are you two doing in my room?!” He shouted. “I’m calling campus security, right now!”

----------

“Will you, bad boy?” Mona teased, in a intimidating manner. “Because I’m sure the last thing you want are the cops here, in your room. Am I right?”

“Oh, do you think a little thief like you? I’d like to see you prove, before I get your ass expelled from the university.”

Allison stood frozen, looking at them both. Mona had that look on her face, from when she was ready to get in a physical fight with someone. That would jeopardize the entire investigation, besides getting them both kicked out from university. Without thinking any longer, she made a decision. This is exactly what a brainless moron like Brian would like to see.

“Actually,” she removed her shirt off, revealing a lacy violet bra. “We were preparing you a surprise.”

“Excuse me?!” Brian asked, staring at her features.

“Mona told me about you and how irresistibly hot you are...” she pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him. “I’m sorry she isn’t good showing her feelings. I decided to give her a little hand.”

“P-Please, go ahead...”

Brian was smiling broadly. Allison winked to Mona, who was in extreme shock, inviting her to go along with her plan.

“What would you like us to do now, huh?” Allison asked him, in a seductive tone. “Anything you want.”

“M-Make out. The two of you. Please!”

Allison looked at Mona, to see if she consented. She was too dazed make a move or gave her any answer. Instead, she took a step ahead, cupping Allison’s face between her hands carefully, before placing a small kiss on her lips. Allison knew that wouldn’t be enough. Not for Brian, and especially for herself.

She pulled Mona by the waist, bringing her closer as possible and deepening the kiss. For a long time, she hadn’t felt so much pleasure in her life. The softness of Mona’s lips devouring hers, their tongues moving together, it all brought her that burning sensation she had been desiring for years. She wished that moment would never end, prolonging the kiss as much as she could, until they were both out of breath.

“Now, take off your clothes!” Brian ordered, bouncing in excitement.

“Let’s finish this...” Mona grabbed a pair of handcuffs from her pockets and restrained him on the bed post.

“Hell yeah, baby! It’s gonna get kinky here!”

“Where did you get those?” Allison asked curious.

“I stole from your father. I thought they could be useful at some point. Now go, finish searching his desk. I’ll check to the closet.”

“Wait...” Brian was confused. “What’s going on here? Are you guys cops?”

“Sort of,” Allison answered, irritated, “and if you open your mouth again, I’m going to gag you!”

Mona emerged from the closet, with the package she had previously seen Brian carrying in the morning.

“The party is over, bad boy.”

“No, please,” he begged as she unwrapped it. “D-Don’t tell anyone, I-I... I’ll pay you! My dad has a lot of money.”

“Oh shit,” Mona exclaimed, staring at the content. Allison approached, noticing some familiar blue pills.

“Really, Brian?” Allison tried to muffle a laugh. “We thought you were a drug dealer and you...”

“Can’t get it to work properly?” Mona completed, bursting into laughs.

“I have a medical condition, okay?! And if you ever tell this anyone, I’m going to kill you both!”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.”

“As long as our secret is safe too. And stop harassing girls, I mean it.”

After uncuffing him, the three of them sat down to talk about their task and what had been going on. Brian assured he wasn’t involved in any kids of drug dealing and would warn them in case he noticed anything suspicious, as long as his big secret was safe.

“I felt bad for him in the end,” Allison said as they left the room.

“Yeah, me too. All this jerk act he plays is because he...” Mona started laughing again, “has issues down there.”

Suddenly loud screaming and a big commotion started coming from all places in the University. Mona and Allison’s phones started ringing at the same time. The basketball player had fallen unconscious in the middle of the game. He had been hospitalized in a life-threatening condition.

“Stay where you are,” Mr. Wheeler ordered through the phone. “We need to check his dorm for evidence.”

----------

The police wasn’t able to find anything at the young athlete’s dorm, every evidence had been professionally cleaned. Their only hope were the surveillance cameras footage, that could’ve been caught who last entered his room.

Mr. Wheeler asked them both to go home. There was nothing else for them to do in there. Mona remained silent inside her car, blaming herself for aiming at the wrong suspect. Allison insisted and they stopped at the Bowling Alley as planned.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told Mona, as they shared a milkshake. “It happens all the time with my dad and he has been a high-skilled detective, for years.”

“I should’ve known better,” Mona shook her head in denial. “We’re dealing with an expert, Allison. A psychopath. They don’t usually show this dark side of them. We need to start aiming for someone more... normal.”

“Any suspects?”

“None yet, but I’ll be thinking about it.”

Allison let out a deep and weary sigh.

“Jeez, I never thought this could be so intense and emotional. Even if we were just faking all the time.”

There was something else that wouldn’t leave Mona’s mind. That kiss. Was it only part of the role or Allison had true intentions when she decided to go deeper into it?

“Were we faking all the time?” Mona asked.

Allison looked down, avoiding her gaze for a moment.

“Not at all,” she finally answered, biting her lower lip.

Mona approached her, lifting up her chin.

“Would you mind doing it again? Only to be sure it was real?”

Mona leaned forward, her lips only one breath away from Allison’s. She hesitated for a moment, then placed a hand on Mona’s chest and slightly pushed her away.

“Would you mind waiting only a little longer? I still need to break off my engagement. I feel bad for doing this to Griffin. While I no longer have feelings for him, we had an entire history together.”

“I’ve waited eight years,” Mona grinned. “What’s only a few more days, right?”

“Yeah,” Allison grabbed her hand, “until the weekend I’ll be free. I promise you.”

As soon as they got home, Detective Wheeler was already waiting for them with a scowl on his face. He advanced in Mona’s direction, pinning her against the wall.

“You! You’ve ruined my investigation!” He yelled. “I’ll assure you’ll get severely punished for that!”

“Dad!” Allison shouted, pushing him aside. “What are you saying? We followed the wrong lead, and so did you, multiple times!”

“Allison, she included a total stranger in the investigation. This kid named Leon. The security cameras’ footage is gone. Considering his computer skills, he’s our main suspect now.”

“L-Leon would never do that,” Mona argued, Allison could tell she was somehow scared. “I-I was in contact with him the whole time... he was sitting at the stadium, watching the game for us!”

“While he hacked into the security system and erased everything! Now, because of your irresponsibility, we’ll need to contact the company in charge of campus’ security and attempt to retrieve footage from their server. It’s going to take weeks! Do you have any idea of how many people will die until then?”

Mona stared at the open tab on the Detective’s laptop, the security company’s website and then she realized...

“Leon didn’t do it. This security system is 99,9% impossible to be hacked. And don’t worry. Until the weekend you’re getting your footage, Detective.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“My mom developed this security system and trust me, you don’t wanna mess with her tech skills.”

#playchoices #ride or die #mona #mona rod #mona x mc #choices stories you play #ride or die fanfiction

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multi-fandom-fanfiction · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I please have a male TVD/to ship?? I’m short with brown hair and blue eyes, and I’m currently in college for neuroscience 🤗I love to dance, and I was dance captain for my high school (ThePac Walden grove- watch the avengers! I’m Stephen strange). I’m competitive and I play football. I’m a very direct person, and I speak my mind no matter what. I’m a romantic, but I usually only show it in private. I have a tendency to act kinda crazy, mainly cause I go off my add meds haha. Thank you!!

The vampire diaries or the originals Nah you get both

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Damon always said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen

Damon wasn’t too into college unless it was something to do with a party or at least he wasn’t until you went to college

He loves to cuddle with you after a long day or go to the grill and drink with you while you rant about your day or tell him cool neuroscience facts

Damon wouldn’t admit it but he loves to dance

He could dance for hours with you

When you were captain of the dance team Damon went to every competition

He would bring water and power raid saying you needed to stay hydrated

Damon had a humongous ego so your egos sometimes clash

It causes some powerful arguments and sometimes heartbreaking breakups but you always make up and both you and Damon apologize

Damon is a vampire very little can kill him so he is very careless and lacks regard for his safety

You are also reckless and just wanna have fun but your human and can get hurt very easily

Damon enjoys having a partner in crime

even though he is very protective and concerned for your safety

He lets you have fun but he also hovers just in case

The older Salvatore also forces you to drink a little bit of his blood daily so if you were to die you would become a vamp and he wouldn’t lose you

Damon and you are both arrogant

You both believe the only person better than yourselves is the other person

Damon is used to getting what he wants or was until you can around

Now Damon doesn’t even try to argue with you he just gives in and gives you what you want

because you are the most stubborn person he knows

and he knows he will lose

Your stubbornness isn’t the only thing that stops your boyfriend from arguing with you

your determination was definitely the biggest reason

When you set your mind on something you didn’t stop until you got it or did it

Damon tried to stop you in the beginning but he soon realized it was a lost cause

Damon was always competitive

He always wanted to be number 1

You both believed in healthy competition in your relationship

Everything was a competition

(who could eat breakfast faster, who could down a bottle of bourbon quicker, Who was the better dancer, Who could get through there morning routine quicker)

It was a long time since Damon had played Football when he met you

He dabbled in it when it was first created but it wasn’t his thing back then

He tried it again because you wanted to play one quiet Sunday morning when you and your friends' group were bored and he fell in love

Now you guys made it a tradition to play it every Saturday

Damon appreciates that you are direct

Everyone in his life hides things and lies so it was refreshing you were honest

Damon loves that you speak your mind

He feels more people need to do that

Damon is a secret romantic

He enjoys taking you to extravagant or fun dates

He showers you in compliments and gifts

He has to appear hard because he doesn’t want to show people he has feelings so they could hurt him again

He is damaged and has trust issues

But with you, he feels comfortable and safe to be vulnerable and wants to show that

Damon can be a bit crazy so he understands when you miss a dose and goes off the handle

He calms you and gives you your medication when you forget them

He does try to avoid that though by constantly trying to make sure you are okay and you take you meds

The Originals

Klaus Mikaelson

Klaus’s eyes found you at the Mikaelson masquerade ball and he was hooked since

The original hybrid had seen and been with many beautiful women but you were by far the best

He found your body and soul perfection

Klaus loves to listen to you talk about your passions which included neuroscience

He thought you were the smartest woman he had ever met

He liked to drive you to school and walk you to class

While you did your homework he painted or sketched listening to you spur random facts

When it stressed you out too much he made sure to make you pause and relax

speaking of him painting you were his muse he had tons of sketchbooks filled with sketches of you as well as hundreds of paintings of you

Klaus wasn’t big on dancing but he loves to watch you dance

He even occasionally puts the big bad hybrid persona away and takes you out dancing for date night

When you were captain of your dance team he went to every competition

He tried to compel the judges a few times to make you win

but after you yelled at him he never did it again

He just loved how happy you looked when your team won

when your team lost he took you all out for ice cream

He made sure you had an excessive amount of water and Gatorade to keep you hydrated

Klaus’s lifestyle demanded a certain amount of carelessness and disregard for life but he still wished you were less reckless

Klaus loved you and considered you one of the only people that he trusted so he didn’t want to lose you

Klaus feeds you vampire blood daily in case you were hurt

He makes sure you are protected as much as he can anyways

Klaus was the most arrogant person you ever met and he had an ego to rival yours but that didn’t stop the love that had blossomed between the both of you

Your egos clashed and caused so terrible fights and crushing breakups

The both of you couldn’t live without one another though and always reunited

Klaus always got what he wanted

He was used to stubborn Rebecca’s biggest flaw was she was stubborn but you put his sister to shame

You weren’t afraid to fight him

And you didn’t stop until you got what you wanted

The Mikaelson was always determined first to break his curse, to create hybrids, to protect his family especially you and hope

He always thought he was the most determined person/thing on the planet that was until he met you

You put your mind to it or you wanted something you got it no matter what stood in your way

It was one of the many attributes that Klaus fell in love with

You both competed about everything

(Who could plan the better date, who could paint a better picture, or could sketch the most sketches in the amount of time, who could cook better etc.)

Klaus was alive long before football but he never tried it he was too busy

but one day you were all celebrating and decided to play a game

He watched you laugh and smile

That alone made him love it

but he also loved the game

now the family plays it all the time

Klaus has trust issues

He hates people lieing to him and keeping things a secret from him

So he definitely appreciates your honesty and how direct you were

Klaus pretends to be a monster but for you, he shows just how much of a helpless romantic he is

He loves to cuddle and spend time with you

He showers you inexpensive or creative gifts

He takes you on extravagant and special dates

Klaus does everything for you

He can’t show this side to just anyone so it is special that he shows you

The original hybrid had a tendency to be insane and snap

Klaus didn’t blame you or shame you when you forgot your dosage and became a little mad

He would just calmly take care of you

He would make you a nice meal wrap his arms and a weighted blanket around you give you your meds and lay with you until you were calm

He did try to avoid that because he didn’t want you to hurt

So he tried to remind you to take your medication

(A/n Sorry about the description I watched both Doctor Strange and the avengers but googled his personality. It said he has a massive ego and that he was careless and had little regard for his life. The website also calls him Arrogant, stubborn and determined. So I am sorry if this doesn't want you meant by being like him. On the other note thanks for requesting a ship I hope you enjoy it if not let me know and I can take another crack at it)

(Remember everyone my asks box is always open for ship and imagine request or just to talk and answer questions the same goes for my inbox. I would love to talk and befriend all you lovely people)

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verseofthedead · 5 years ago

Text

Different characters trying to work out voices in a different scene. Psylee communicates telepathically and it’s usually in italics. However, I am lazy.

Psylee put the ship on auto pilot as calmly as she could. To anyone who happened to observe her in the moment; “calmly” equated to slamming a series of buttons before turning and kicking out so hard it left a large boot-sized dent in the nearest hull wall. Her reason for this angry outburst was being currently being lugged from the decompression chamber into the med bay. Anger and worry filled her head; her lover, Cass, would be feeling her emotions by now. In fact anyone who spent enough time on this ship would be feeling residual anger at this point as Pales telepathic nature could leave minor impressions on those in close proximity to them. While not as intense as a life partner would feel, the whole crew knew their Captain was about to get an earful, or a mindful as it were. As Psylee sharply rounds a corner, the comptech, Grimm looks up from his HoloDX in surprise. In an act of overdramtic self preservation, Grimm launches himself into the nearest alcove, the metal prosthesis of his arm clanging up against the wall. “Go get, ‘em champ.” He jokes as she passes him. “Now is really, really not the time, Grimm.” Hearing her response is his head, he feels her anger lashing out like a whip. Shrugging as he steps back out from the alcove, Grimm swipes over a few things on this tablet, bringing up a few camera feeds from the ship. He chuckles as he sees the Captain and first mate make their way to the med bay. Leaning on each other it look as though they are taking part in a strange three-legged race. “Hey Livvy, tell Kerrick to check out the feed I sent them.” He calls out without looking up from his tablet. As Livvy complies he twirls his tablet between his fingers . “This is gonna be good.” First mate Jillian Deckard had been bestowed upon the unpleasant task of going on most missions with her longtime friend and current Captain, Cass. While in the past stirring shit was just part of the fun, her friend's partner was a bit of a buzz kill. Especially when the shit they got into more often than not, left her girlfriend bleeding out, as was the current situation. Deckard’s black hair clung to the grey skin of her forehead as sweat dripped down he temples. Dragging around her half-conscious friend was not her idea of fun. Nor was the impending shit show lined up for the night. She might be able to save Cass from her current predicament, nothing a minor surgery couldn’t fix. However, saving her from her angry girlfriend would go over as well as asking Grimm to perform heart surgery on a Selarian. That is to say, it wouldn’t. “Captain. Cass, if I may. I’m gonna impart a little bit of advice.” The First mate bodily hefting the weight of the woman she was dragging along higher onto her shoulders; reaching out with her other hand to punch in the key code to the med bay. Cass objects the sudden movement with a pained grunt through her clenched teeth. The small bay doors open up with a hermetic sound as she muscles the two of them through it. “What might that be, Deckard?” Cass’s reply came out as a pained grunt. Her head felt so light and her body so heavy she thought one might float away from the other woman at this point. She held her hand tightly against the wound on her right side, feeling the blood ooze out between her fingers “One, don’t eat so much your shipmates can’t carry you. Two, and listen closely on this one, when your partner tells you not to do something stupid, for fuck’s sake listen.” Cass hissed sharply as Deckard dumped her body on the unforgiving metal of the bay’s only med table. Deckard breathed heavily through her nose as she turned to grab a few things from various cabinets along the wall. “You’re a fucking idiot, Captain. I’m not even stupid enough to cross a Pale, let alone one I promised myself to. If Lee wants to kill you, I’m going to let her.” Snapping on a pair of black medical grade gloves she sets about, prepping her biomed supplies to remove the shrapnel and suture up the wound. “That’s fair.” Cass’s breath was becoming more labored as she spoke. “If I may, Deckard, a couple of counter points. One, Maybe you should work out more. And two,” She gasps out in a sharp breath, losing whatever fight she had left in her. “And two…I have no defense for two.” Cass slumps forward both exhausted and defeated. “I fucked up.” “Well, you can tell Lee that yourself.” Deckard muscles Cass out of her long black leather jacket and her olive greeen undershirt; both bloodied and ripped beyond repair, revealing the wound. The gash that starts at the right of her ribs and follows the slope of her muscled stomach down to her waistband is far worse than Deckard was expecting. Survivable, but it wasn’t going to be without a nasty reminder. One that was only going to anger Psylee even more. Right now her task was to patch up her friend. “You sure you want me to heal you? Since Lee is gonna kill you anyways.” Poking around the wound she finds a few bits of shrapnel embedded in the skin. “She’s not going to kill me. Death would be too easy an escape for her liking.” On cue the door slid open. The sound somehow made harsher by the tall woman ducking through it. Drawing herself to her full height, eyes boring down on Cass’s own, Psylee scoffs at the statement. “You’re fucking right about that.” She looks awful. The normal vivid glow of her white skin was gone, replaced with a grey pallor. Her gold eyes were dim against the blacks of her sclera. Her normally contained braided white hair had been pulled out of its holder, sending it haphazardly around her shoulders and across her forehead. All signs of the stress, anger and worry she had gone through in the last twenty minutes. She marched over to where Cass was being operated on, her eyes cataloging every scrape and bruise. When her eyes finally landed on the wounds Deckard was attending to, she spoke. “Deckard, did Cass sustain any leg injuries?” her voice was loud and strained in her head. Cass wincing slightly at the tone. “I’m right here, my leg-.” Cass starts before being harshly cut off with a glare, effectively shutting her up. Feeling a sense of shame, Cass averts her eyes away. “I’m not speaking to you. Deckard answer the question.” “No she did not, why?” “Good I won’t feel bad about this then,” Psylee delivered three swift punches to the outside of Cass’s left thigh. A chorus of, “Stupid, stupid, stupid” followed by a string of swears in her native tongue rung out in their heads. Cass yelped in pain and nearly tore her wound further. Deckard clamored past the med table to grab the upset woman’s fist firmly. “Lee, stop. She’s in my care. I’ll patch everything up but those bruises. Go it down.” She inclined her head towards the spare bed. Cass sat there clutching her thigh, her jaw clenched as she watched her girlfriend. Guilt and worry lined her face.

Psylee pushed away her hand and stomped over to the second bed, leaning on it, her arms crossed tighly over her chest. She looked down, unable to make eye contact with wither woman. Deckard warily began to remove the small bits of shrapnel from the wound. Each clank of metal on metal only seemed to make Psylee’s hurt and anger grow. The slurry of projected emotions was starting to make Deckard shake. Cass grunted in pain, but her eyes never left her partner’s face. Grey eyes searched for gold ones, with no success. “Hey, Lee. You really need to calm down a bit or I might accidentally hurt Cass, again.” Her tone was as soft as she could make it while still sounding firm. The taller woman turned and glared, fierce and imposing, before her body fell forward and anger and resentment turned into the pain of worry and fear. The surge of heartache that followed made Deckard yank out the last shrapnel piece a little to roughly. Cassandra hissed in pain, otherwise remaining quiet. Reserving herself to the punishment she deserved. “She’d deserve it for being such an idiot.” There was no venom in her words, just defeat. Cass and Deckard had been out running errands when the Federation’s goons had caught up with them. They had radioed to the others to get back to the ship, where Psylee had been waiting. Psylee had told Cass not to engage them so unprotected. She did anyway and an errant grenade had gone off, sending shrapnel flying. Cass had ignored her pleas to disengage and fall back, going as far as shutting of her commlink when the pale began to express her displeasure. That had been the final straw for her. Having her partner ignore her wishes was painful, but having her shut her out in a dangerous situation was reckless and stupid. She always had to play the goddamn hero. Slowly, Psylee’s feelings retracted from her mind. Cass had turned her head away from Psylee’s position, her face school into a blank slate staring ahead in a despondent manner. She could almost hear her beat herself up. Deckard moved the pan with the removed shrapnel to the counter and picked up her bionic suture (come up with a better name). The biosuture was shaped like an odd pistol with a small datapad on the back. She punched in a few details and Cass’s information popped up on the screen. Pulling the waistband of Cass’s pants down a little Deckard looked up at her friend to silently ask if she was ready. Cass side-eyed her and gave a curt nod. She leaned over the wound and pressed down on the trigger. Instantly a soft blue light blossomed over the bottom quarter of the wound. Shutting her eyes to the point white explosions blossomed behind her eyelids; Cass gripped the table trying to keep herself still, anchored, as she screamed in pain. Having your flesh rapidly re-knit itself back together is not a fun process. Her chest heaved with the effort to keep still. This was a pain she would endure. Five minutes later, that section was knit back together, twenty minutes later all that was left was a long red patch of skin where the gash had been. The only signs the Cass had ever been hurt was the blood that stained her paints and the destroyed leather jacket. As soon as she finished, Deckard began hastily cleaning up her materials, throwing out the bloodied med supplies and putting away the suture. “Psylee, I am going to leave the med bay now. Keeping this idiot here alive took way more effort than I wanted to expend. Please don’t puncture her skin. Bruises heal.” Patting Cass on the head, she turns to the door giving Psylee a once over. Affirming that she has calmed down. “And don’t forget to clean up after.” For a moment the only sound in the room was Cass’s labored breathing. Psylee kicks up off the bed, pulling over a chair and sitting down next to her partner, arms crossed and brows drawn together. Neither woman made eye contact, each waiting for the other to speak. As the minutes passed, Cass’s breathing evens out. Pushing herself up into a sitting position with a grunt, Cass breaks. “I am the worst.” She sighs, looking up at her partner. Psylee drawing her arms closer to her body, still refusing to look up at her lover. “I knew how you felt and yet I still ignored it. I-I- could have walked away and it would have been manageable. It was like Tannar. I was ready to take them all on.” Cass begins to clench and unclench her fists looking over at her partner. Psylee sighing, letting an overwhelming feeling of sadness overtake her. Cass sobbed in response. That is how I felt when you shut off the comms. Suddenly I couldn’t hear you, I couldn’t know you were safe. When I heard a grenade had gone off near you. I thought I had lost you. Uncrossing her arms she reaches out and puts a hand on Cass’s left forearm. Her thumb strokes along an old scar. Her arm is warm and she is alive. Stupid, but alive. You know what you did was stupid, I’m not going to lecture you. You can look at those leg bruises and think about it. Cass sniffs and barks out a laugh. “I can’t promise I won’t be stupid,” She takes her right hand, the inner mechanics whirring softly as she does, and puts it over the long pale one resting on her arm, picking it up to rest on her face. “But I promise I will never intentionally make you feel this way ever again.” She kisses the inside of Psylee’s wrist, looking into her eyes. “You have my permission to kick my ass if I fuck it up.” “I was going to do that anyway.”

#more shit i wrote #echoes in space

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whatarubberchicken · 6 years ago

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Lukadrinette - Part 2

I feel bad not getting my Marichat May fics in, but damn they got dark all of a sudden. To make myself feel better, have another section of the fic that’s currently eating away at my mind:

First part is here.

Again, adult language and situations going on. This happens years after the show.

Adrien woke to a queasy stomach, a massive head-ache, and sunlight in his eyes. He groaned and rolled over, trying to hide under the blanket.

The blanket smelled weird.

Dammit. Now he had to do laundry again!

He hated this part of getting drunk—wait. It wasn’t a bad ‘weird’ smell. Just different.

He sniffed again.

Floral… mint… salt… and some sort of cologne…

Aww, fuck. He wasn’t home.

He groaned again, wondering what hell-hole he’d managed to dive into this time. It couldn’t be too bad, he supposed. The smell was nice. At least he hadn’t woken up to somebody beside him. He hadn’t been drugged. He wasn’t naked. (Well, not fully-naked, he corrected himself, realizing he’d lost his shirt somewhere in there. And judging from the uncomfortable wet spot in his jeans, he probably should’ve lost those too before he’d pissed himself.)

He heard a chuckle come from somewhere in the room.

“Well, well. He lives!” a familiar voice called.

Adrien groaned. “Please don’t yell at me,” he whimpered. Crap, now he knew exactly where he was. And like always, his pulse quickened and he could feel his mood lifting, just by being the same room as this man.

“Ouch,” Luka laughed. “I’m talking softly, pretty boy. You really did a number on yourself.”

“You try getting left at a club by a girl who told you she loved you for two whole weeks,” Adrien grumbled. “See how you take it.”

“Wow. Two whole weeks,” Luka deadpanned.

“Shuddup.”

He heard the other boy chuckle again.

“Coffee?”

“Please,” Adrien sighed, finally surrendering to the inevitable and sitting up. Slowly. Dammit, his head hurt. Luka appeared in front of him with a steaming cup and two pills. Adrien nearly slumped with relief as he took them. “Bless you.”

“Meds first, or Mari’ll have my hide.”

Adrien obeyed. “Sorry about your couch,” he said, indicating his lower half.

“Ehh, you’re not the first drunk who’s crashed at our place,” Luka said, throwing himself into a nearby chair and grabbing his guitar. “We put some puppy pads underneath you to absorb it.”

Frowning, Adrien flipped over part of the blanket he’d been sleeping on. Sure enough, absorbent pads covered the cushions beneath him.

“I don’t know if I should feel relieved, or insulted about being considered a puppy,” he muttered.

“We got them after your buddy Kim tried to drink Jules under the table. That was the funniest shit I ever saw,” Luka said, shrugging as he lightly-fingered a few chords. “So, you can blame Marinette’s ability to plan for anything and everything. You did manage to make it into the vomit bucket every time, though. Thank you for that.”

“Wh-where is she now?” Adrien asked, clearing his throat awkwardly. He took a sip of his coffee to try to calm himself.

“Mari? She’s in the bathroom, getting ready for work. Someone has to feed my lazy ass.”

Adrien wanted to hate him. He really did. The other man had everything he’d ever wanted. A loving home, a beautiful girlfriend, a job he didn’t despise with his every breath….

… a hairbrush flying at his head…

Luka yelped and barely managed to duck it.

“Dammit, woman, we’re having guy-talk over here! Can’t you pretend I’m the king of this castle??”

“Not if you put yourself down like that,” Marinette called sweetly as she appeared in the doorway, putting on her earrings. “You are not lazy. You are in-between jobs because you got illegally sacked by a bunch of morons who don’t know how to carry a tune.”

Luka grumbled, running his hands through his hair. “Still not getting paid, though,” he reminded her.

“We’ll make it just fine,” she said softly, coming over and kissing the top of his head. “Joan will find you guys another gig and then I’ll never see you at night ever again.” They grinned at each other as she retrieved the hairbrush. Adrien didn’t even realize he was staring until Marinette looked over at him.

“How are you feeling, Adrien?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Good! Good,” Adrien said, nodding and clearing his throat again. God, she looked so beautiful. Hair up in a professional-looking bun. Makeup on. Killer outfit with a button-down blouse and matching slacks. So grown up and put-together. And here he was, sitting in his own piss and nursing a hangover.

Somebody kill him now.

“Make sure you take a shower before you go home,” she said, crossing into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee as well. “Luka can loan you some clothes while you throw yours in the laundry.”

Luka cleared his throat and pouted at her, giving her big, puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t think now’s the best time, Luka,” she sighed.

“Can I at least ask him??” Luka begged.

“Ask me what?”

“You are going to make this awkward!” Marinette snapped.

“It’s already awkward!” Luka argued. “Look at him, babe! He’s ready to bolt as soon as you leave! At least this way he’ll have something to look forward to if he stays!”

Adrien, who had indeed been thinking he’d make up an excuse to get out of this apartment as soon as his high-school friend left, snapped his mouth shut on his questions and looked between the two confusedly. What the hell could they possibly be arguing about??

“Luka….” Marinette groaned.

“Don’t you ‘Luka’ me!” her boyfriend snapped. “You know I’m right. You want him as bad as I do!”

Adrien blinked. Wait… what?

“Umm, look,” he said slowly, licking his lips, “if me being here is gonna cause a problem for you two, I can just go….”

“You’re not a problem, Adrien,” Marinette said. She and Luka locked eyes for a moment, silently battling it out. To Adrien’s surprise, Marinette was the first to look away, shrugging helplessly.

“Fine, ask him,” she said. “But if he runs away screaming, I’m blaming you.”

“Ask me what?” Adrien’s curiosity was eating him alive.

Luka turned to him eagerly. “I—we—were wondering if you’d like to stay here with me today,” he said. “Breakfast, shower, laundry, all that. But also, with the understanding that I desperately want to bend you over that kitchen counter.”

Adrien choked. He hadn’t taken a drink of his coffee, but he straight-up choked as he stared at the other man. Behind him, Marinette groaned and facepalmed.

“Babe, we need to work on your tact,” she said.

“What? It’s the truth!” Luka protested. “Oh, and Mari! Mari would like to join us when she gets home.”

“Mari would like to strangle her boyfriend with his guitar strings,” Marinette muttered under her breath.

“We’ll save that for the second date,” Luka winked at her.

“So, wait… both of you?” Adrien asked, trying to talk, even though his mind had been blown. They were already a couple, but… they weren’t talking about breaking up over him…. “You both want me?”

“Please ignore the horny blueberry in the corner there,” Marinette said, stepping around the kitchen counter. Luka made an offended noise. “But… let’s just say… in the past, we have considered adding you to our relationship and found that neither of us were against the idea.”

“Against the idea?” Luka scoffed. “You were screaming his name as I—”

“Quiet, you,” she growled. She focused on Adrien again. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she said softly. “If you just want to get cleaned up and go, that’s fine. Nothing has to change between us. But if you want to—”

“I can have both of you?” Adrien choked out, looking between them wildly.

God, the idea… he’d wanted Luka for forever. Before he’d even known that boys could like boys like that. He’d simply thought something was wrong with him until Nino had realized Adrien had never gotten any sort of “talk” from the non-existent parental units in his life. And Marinette was… well, Marinette! The one he’d secretly pinned after for years, hoarding every single picture Alya had sent him; always heartbreakingly-aware that she was far too good for him.

They wanted him? Even broken and pathetic on their couch? He knew he was pretty, but they of all people knew just how messed up he was! Most of his partners ran away once they realized just how deep the drama got. But Marinette and Luka already knew about all that.

And they wanted him anyway??

I can have this?

Even if they didn’t love him—if it was just a one-time deal…. Just the thought of them—both of them—holding him, touching him, kissing him, oh fuck, taking him, acting like he mattered—

Yes. YES. WHERE THE FUCK DO I SIGN??

“Hmm,” Luka chuckled, watching Adrien and leaning back in a very self-satisfied way. “I think he likes it.”

Marinette looked between them, biting her lip.

“Please,” Adrien breathed, ready to beg on his knees if that’s what it took. “Please. Let me have you, Mari. Both of you,” he added, looking over at Luka, who was grinning broadly. “I’ve wanted both of you forever. Please, I’ll do anything.”

To show he was serious, Adrien sank to his knees. Instantly, both of them leapt forward.

“Whoa, whoa, man!”

“Adrien, that’s not necessary!”

Because he was closer, Luka reached him first, pulling him to his feet. “No need for that, buddy,” he said quickly. “If we’re gonna do this, we all have to be on equal ground, okay?”

“Huh?”

“We’ve got some strict rules about communication, Adrien,” Marinette explained, placing a hand on his arm. Even their simple, friendly touches seared themselves into his mind. “If you want or need something, we need you to tell us, not keep silent because you’re afraid you’ll do something wrong and lose us.”

“I need you,” Adrien said immediately. Marinette gaped at him and then jumped as an alarm on her phone went off.

“Catches on quick, doesn’t he?” Luka snickered. “You’re gonna be late for work, babe.”

“I know,” Marinette grumbled, searching Adrien’s eyes for a moment more. She sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’m going. Luka, make sure you talk to him—”

“I will, I will,” Luka promised, shooing her away.

“And remember, don’t put jeans in hot water—”

“Got it, Mama-Marinette.”

Marinette made a face at him and finally ran out the door.

To be continued....

#lukadrinette #lukadrien #lukanette #not really too much adrinette yet #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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