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littlepadika · 4 years ago

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Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #frankie morales x y/n #catfish morales #calling home series #i would die for frankie #frankie morales has a sexy voice #daddy!frankie

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shushiyuii · 3 years ago

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Subject T0M au

This is an Au I’ve had stockpiled for a while wkakdnknak. It’s going to multiple parts too, once I get to working on those. If you have any questions you’re welcome to ask!

I hope you guys enjoy it (Also gimme your fucking requests UwU /lh)

Warnings: Experimentation, injury? And Horror elements (It’s mainly fluff i promise :3)

Words: 3K

Document – T0MMY1NN1T

Assigned to: Doctor Wilbur Soot Watson

Description: Subject T0M was once a [REDACTED] by the name of [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. His age is of kin to an elder teen, probably around the age of [REDACTED] to [REDACTED].

The appearance of Subject T0M is like a human, they have blonde hair and pale skin. Their most common height is 6’3 on average but can change depending on the form. Their face, arms and legs are covered in a black substance of unknown origin, it mainly takes on half of their body and appears to be almost liquid.

Their face is completely black, the only thing apparent is their fangs like a wolf when they open their mouth to feed, multiple fangs, the only other feature on Subject T0M’s face is their light blue eyes that glow in the dark.

Subject T0M isn’t very intelligent, they have some semblance of human intelligence, understanding simple language and commands.

They’re quite approachable as well but Subject T0M is to be approached with caution, as they could be quite dangerous. If angered there’s no knowing what Subject T0M is capable of.

Their abilities consist of being able to manipulate the material of their body, being able to change shape and size, their favourite is to mimic those around them. It is not an exact copy; it is apparent that Subject T0M is themselves because the material of their body will still be there even if they changed forms.

They can also create weaponry and different things from their material but again not exact copies, they’re quite harmless usually.

Subject T0M is to be assigned to Rookie Doctor Wilbur Soot. Under the watch of Philza Watson.

Entry 01 – 02/09/20—

So today was my first-day researching Subject T0M, from what I can say so far is that they’re quite interesting but so far besides the examinations, they haven’t shown much behaviour. Only staring at me from a distance.

Also, I’m not used to this sort of thing like writing documents and reports, not my favourite thing in the world but it’s not the worst thing either. So, Subject T0M already has a lot of his abilities recorded, I’m just here to see if he develops any noteworthy changes and watch over the guy.

Currently, there is no change in behaviour, he just stares down at me at a distance, like I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, perhaps that’s the case?

He seems so lonely in that containment cell, it’s just an empty white box surrounded by glass, perhaps at some point I could request an upgrade to higher-ups for the lil’ fella? That way he can have a more comfortable place. Rather than a highly lit, bland, cold box.

Entry 02 – 05/09/20—

So Today, Subject T0M did something quite interesting, it’s a drastic difference from the last few days by just staring at me through the windows of the cells.

You see, instead of just watching me from the other side of the office, as usual, it can get quite boring in the office once you finish the days' assignments of reports, schedules, contracts and more and having to watch this guy and do the usual routine gets quite boring so I decided to work on some personal things and bring my guitar, so I could work on my songs, practising the guitar and stuff.

So, I played some things, the next thing I know is that one moment I’m singing, the next in shock as I look over in disbelief. Subject T0M had moved over towards the window, his hands and face on the glass, dead staring me in my eyes, they were filled with curiosity and interest like an infant listening to music for the first time.

A way to describe it would be that Subject T0M seemed so much happier, but when I stopped, he looked almost disappointed, I stared at him in amazement for a moment and I started to play again, and his expression went back to being amazed.

My music seems to interest Subject T0M so perhaps I should do more research and experiments with different kinds of music to see which they prefer?

Not only that but it’s nice to have someone rather than my dad that enjoys my music. They’re almost my second biggest fan. I’m looking forward to seeing more of this kid.

Entry 03 – 06/09/20—

As of now, I have started the experimentation of music with Subject T0M, he seems to prefer rather upbeat, pop music and general music.

I also played him some songs from popular games, one of them being The Able Sister’s from Animal Crossing, he really seemed to enjoy that one.

Besides the experiments, I’ve started to talk to Subject T0M as it does get lonely here, plus he’s the only other guy here in the department. Although he doesn’t talk, he’s a great listener, nodding whenever I state my opinion and even trying to communicate verbally from time to time, even though he doesn’t seem to have the ability to speak.

And I’ve also seemed to have started a habit of calling Tom or Tommy, it suits him! He’s also been showing more personality, he seems more aggressive like a gremlin but not in a bad way, he’s just displaying more emotion it seems.

Entry 04 – 09/09/20—

So, the experiments and communication of Tommy have made significant progress. He’s become feistier and more vocal, he’s not aggressive in a physical sense, just annoyingly loud. He’s like a fucking child.

And today was another experiment with Tom, with the test subject being myself since it seems safe enough, so need to gather others or security over it.

I entered his containment cell, and the moment I did, Tommy showed no difference in behaviour, to begin with, just a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Probably because this was the first time, he had seen me so close.

I carefully approached at first but then a thought came to me. So far I’ve been treating him like a human so maybe treating him the same way now would have the same effects?

I sat down next to him and started talking to him as usual, and he slowly started to move closer to me, cautiously. He seemed almost nervous, but his focus was on me, rather than himself. I found it rather odd, maybe something is wrong?

Again, he tried talking back but of course, it sounded like a fucking crack pipe, so it didn’t quite work. But he was talking and for some reason, it just brought a smile to my face.

I felt like an older brother would be a way to describe it, I made a promise in my head to protect him. We even tried singing together, it was a lot of fun, I look forward to spending more time with him.

Entry 05 – 12/09/20—

The past couple of days have been a lot of fun with Tommy like I’ve gained a friend. You see, growing up I was always a bit lonely, I was social, but I never found myself clicking with anyone because nobody had the same interests as me, so I turned to focus more on my studies, science in fact like my father told me too. And look at me now!

I’m a training researcher in the same facility as my dad, as this place is one of a kind opportunity, so I guess I got pretty lucky. And it seems Tommy agrees maybe, he reminds me of well me, I don’t want him to be lonely like I was, maybe I could arrange a meeting between other monsters?

Entry 06 – 14/09/20—

Tommy and I have been bonding a lot more lately and I’ve also improved a lot myself with finishing work sooner and taking up more assignments.

Speaking of which my father said if I keep this up, I may get more recognition in the facility, maybe even a promotion which I’m happy about. I’ve sent in a request to the higher-ups to allow Tommy communication of other monsters to which I hope they approve.

Besides that, I was talking to Tommy as per usual and he displayed a different emotion, excitement. He seemed eager to show me something and when I asked, “What is it?”. His form changed to be slightly taller and more of his black substance covered his body but after a while, his form changed to be similar to my own, he tried copying me.

Like physically. It was quite surprising if I’m honest, my shocked expression to Tommy made him realise the situation and immediately changed back and tried to reassure me, I felt bad and tried to reassure him it was okay. It’s funny to look back on.

Entry 07 – 15/09/20—

I got approval from the higher-ups, probably getting special treatment since my dad is one of the higher-ups, others aren’t normally so lucky. Dad, or should I say Doctor Philza? He said we could have a meeting between Tommy and his subject, R4NB00 or as he says Ranboo.

Dad said that his subject Ranboo does need to socialise more since he appears to have symptoms of social anxiety so maybe this will do them both some good since they both seem to be around the same age. Like Tommy, Ranboo only socialises with him and another subject T3chn0, or the blade, blood god. He’s got quite a reputation around here.

Anyways, I’ll say what I know about Subject R4NB00 as of his report, so I know to look over it in case of emergency.

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

Report 16/09/20-- - Meeting of Subject T0M and Subject R4NB00

Today was the meeting of Subject T0M and R4NB00. Both were properly secured successfully and safely in transportation cells with the required security of 5 guards each in each truck and successfully transported to the meeting facility without stress or failure.

Both researchers were safely secured behind the required monitoring window.

The meeting was rather successful between the two creatures. To begin with, when the two saw each other they both maintained distance, for Subject R4NB00 it was because they were anxious about meeting another creature and for Subject T0M, meeting somebody else rather than their researcher.

Subject T0M was the first to contact Subject R4NB00 by trying to communicate verbally with them, it was unsuccessful and resulted in Subject R4NB00 being confused. The two sat in silence for a moment longer until Subject T0M attempted another move of contact by cautiously approaching Subject R4NB00, which resulted in them backing up into a nearby wall and trying to get away from Subject T0M.

Subject T0M then backed off and changed their form to mimic R4NB00, this is theorised to be Subject T0M trying to either comfort or entertain Subject R4NB00, they then changed back into their regular form.

Despite being confused, Subject R4NB00 seemed to notice that Subject T0M meant no harm and then tried to approach subject T0M. Subject T0M did not move.

When Subject R4NB00 approached, there was approximately 1 meter between the two, Subject R4NB00 looked at the two researchers to look for approval to which he got from Doctor Philza via a thumbs up.

Subject T0M curious looked to where R4NB00 was looking and noticed the two researchers and made a noise of happiness towards his researcher, to which Doctor Soot responded with a smile and a thumbs up.

Both Subjects looked back at each other and sat down beside each other. Subject R4NB00 began to communicate with Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 introduced themselves and made small communication, to which Subject T0M responded positively too, as they couldn’t communicate back. After that, the meeting was concluded.

After their meeting, when asked about the meeting by their researchers. Subject R4NB00 responded positively to seeing Subject T0M again and talked positively about them despite not being able to communicate.

Subject T0M appeared upset a few moments after the meeting, scratching at the windows of his cell, whining. When asked if he wished to see Subject R4NB00 again, he responded positively. Another meeting between the two has been arranged.

Entry 08 – 17/09/20—

Tommy seems to miss his new friend quite a bit but it’ll be a while before the next meeting between them as it has to be approved again and it’ll be a while.

Doing our normal routine keeps him happy for a while but if I leave him for more than 15 minutes he begins to whine again. I wasn’t quite sure what to do as I couldn’t keep him company all day.

On my lunch break I talked to my co-worker Doctor Puffy about the matter, she’s a smart gal and rather motherly, she reminds me of my mom at times. She suggested that I give Tommy a gift, like a plush bear to befriend so he wouldn’t feel so lonely while I was gone.

So, I quickly made my way to a store, it was rather odd to see myself, an adult in a toy aisle but I found a decent plush. It’s a Minecraft spider plushie. I gave Tommy the plushie and introduced him to the plush, when I asked him what he wanted to name the plush he responded with a sound, it honestly sounded like he said shroud, so I suggested it. He responded happily so I guess we now have Shroud the spider.

Now I’ve got the peril of getting medication for my father as he’s somehow gotten sick.

Incident Report #19283 – 18/09/20-- -

No staff or other creatures were harmed during the containment breach, minor damages to the building, broken walls and broken windows within the cell. All to be fixed within a minimum of 3 hours. Subject T3CHN0 was successfully contained in a holding cell as we interviewed him as to why he breached containment, to which he responded that “Nobody told me where Phil was.”.

Doctor Philza was then contacted to talk to Subject T3CHN0 to explain his current predicament of being sick, to which Subject T3CHN0 huffed in response and refused to cooperate with us further.

Subject T3CHN0 escaped containment in a rampage, the reasoning being as he was not informed of his researchers’ location, as Doctor Philza was sick for the past two days before the incident. Both researcher and creature are rather close with each other, as to why the Subject was upset.

Prior to the incident (recorded by security cameras), Both Subjects of Doctor Philza were speaking to each other about the current location of their researcher, both concluded that neither of them had any idea of where the Doctor was, both subjects ask their temporary carer as to where their researchers’ location was, to which the carer wouldn’t respond so Subject T3CHN0 decided to find his answers.

Subject T3CHN0 broke through his containment cell’s window and then proceeded to break through multiple walls trying to find his researcher.

(The document then goes into detail about what T3CHN0 did during his rampage before he was contained)

During the rampage, Subject T3CHN0 broke through the walls of Doctor Soot’s office and his creature, Subject T0M. As Subject T3CHN0 entered the office, Doctor Soot was frightened at the unexpected visitor as tried to get away from the approaching Subject T3CHN0, Doctor Soot demanded that he get away, to which T3CHN0 huffed in response.

Subject T0M took some time to register that his researcher was in danger, but when he heard he did, he sprang into the action of defending his researcher.

His form changed into one of being described as fearsome, they changed heights to one over 15 ft tall, his hands turned into claws, long sharp fangs became visible, a sharp tail and pair of horns after appeared with this form. (Doctor Soot has been requested to do further research into this form)

Subject T0M roared in warning towards the other, then proceeded to pounce through their containment cells window, shards of glass scattered throughout the room.

They then ran towards their researcher and in a crouched position, picked up his fallen researcher and held him close to his chest, growling furiously at T3CHN0.

The two Subjects stared at each other for a moment until T3CHN0 began to communicate verbally by asking where his researcher was, Doctor Soot was too much in a state of shock to respond.

Subject T0M held his researcher closer and tried to comfort him in a way of purring, even nuzzling his researcher for a response, to which Subject T3CHN0 left due to being impatient.

Subject T0M continued to hold onto his researcher and eventually Doctor Soot snapped out of his state to stare in awe of Subject T0M, When Subject T0M saw their researcher responding he made worried sounds to them, to which Doctor Soot responded with a laugh and said: “I’m fine buddy”.

Subject T3CHN0 was then contained shortly afterwards.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #sizeshifter!tommy #tiny!ranboo #tiny!wilbur #giant!tommy #giant!techno #tiny!phil #Shushi's writings #Subject t0m au

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years ago

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Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay.

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.”

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.”

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.]

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest.

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up.

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus).

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow.

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality.

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point.

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth.

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart.

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship.

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march.

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly.

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…”

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback.

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight.

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp leonardo #the way this man makes me have So Many Thoughts #every time i remember this story i just go dreamy-eyed #hes an absolute romantic and i die head empty only love comte #not incorrect quotes #rambles #fangdad propaganda #comte propaganda

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years ago

Text

REDACTED verse - A special night

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Ordering a sweet treat to be delivered to the other person at home/work

Word Count: 2,136

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Gavin/Freelancer. Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: NA

Summary: Having an Incubus boyfriend comes with many perks. The Freelancer and Lovely really should have seen it coming.

ConCrit: Y

Well, I guess this can be a sequel to my previous oneshot, REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest. I really wanted to write the Freelancer and Lovely interacting after their first, proper meeting so this oneshot suddenly comes to mind!

Exam week is the bane of every student, everywhere — even for the magical ones.

An uneasy atmosphere lingers around D.A.M.N as the current semester hurl the students into an intense week of revisions, study groups, and extra classes; all for the upcoming exams.

The seniors are frantically cramming for their final papers and projects under the watchful eyes of the lecturers. The Freelancer doesn't envy them one bit when they caught a Sonal Energetic screamed into his backpack for a solid ten minutes.

His scream shakes the student lounge, and the windows shattered.

Once he got that out of his system, he focused back towards his textbook, expressionless. The rest of the students around the Energetic hardly bat an eye over what just happened.

On that day, the Freelancer learned to avoid a large group of seniors until the exam week blows over.

"The tension alone in that lounge could make a Serenity Daemon hide underneath a bed." The Freelancer narrates their experience to Lovely. The two of them are currently having their own study session over at the Freelancer's apartment.

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and yet here they are - flipping through textbooks, reviewing and swapping notes and downing cans of coffee and Red Bulls from as early as 9 AM. "Even the janitor wasn't fazed by it. He just snapped his fingers, and the windows were good as new!"

That night after their proper introduction, Lovely and the Freelancer had become quite good friends, much to Vincent's annoyance and Gavin's pleased smirk when the Freelancer told him that Lovely would be coming over for their study session.

"Aww, look you, Deviant. Arranging a little study date with that friend of yours," Gavin teased during breakfast this morning. They both woke up early to prepare meals that could last the Freelancer and Lovely throughout the whole day. When his Deviant absentmindedly replied, "Uh-huh" as they were busy chopping the vegetables, Gavin couldn't help but plant a fond kiss on top of their head. "Anyway, I'll be popping into Aria for a bit today. A few of my, ah, older brothers and sisters called for a meeting. Can I trust that you two won't be having too much fun without me?"

The Freelancer stopped chopping to gave their boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Gavin, we'll be studying." They explained. "Our first paper is literally next week. So I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be any fucking happening." They then stop themselves. They suddenly recalled something. "I don't want to be on that Solaire Prince's hit list too."

Gavin just cooed at their disgruntled partner, as if the genuine possibility that the both of them being shred to pieces by Lovely's possessive boyfriend amused him.

Nonetheless, Gavin pulled his weight to ensure there was enough food and comfortable pillows and blankets in their shared apartment so that his Deviant and the Electro Energetic would be comfortable for their revisions.

An hour before Lovely arrived, Gavin kissed the Freelancer goodbye and Rifted into his home dimension.

And now we're back in the present.

"I think those students around that guy were his classmates," Lovely commented. They take a quick sip of the lemonade that Gavin prepared to refresh their parched throat. Even in a simple pair of slacks, baggy t-shit, and hair pulled up in a bun, they still look as breathtaking as ever. "They reacted as if it was like a regular Tuesday for them. It's so crazy to think that we'll be seniors like them soon."

The Freelancer pours more lemonade into their glass from the pitcher beside them. Their books, notebooks and snacks are spread all over the dining table. A large and fluffy pillow is propped behind the Freelancer so they can lean back on their chair comfortably. "Urgh, mood. I can already imagine the coursework we'll be forced to do in our final semester." They groan. Their brain is fried from all the information and notes they've been reviewing since this morning. On top of that, the thought that they will be getting even more work once they hit their senior year is starting to freak them out.

Seeing the Freelancer is having an internal crisis, Lovely quickly glance at the time on their phone and decides, "OK, I think we seriously need a break. You look like you're going to pull a stunt similar to that Sonal Energetic, and I don't think your boyfriend appreciates coming back to a half-destroyed apartment."

"Gavin can fix the apartment with his magic, don't worry." The Freelancer is quick to assure Lovely. "He did that after he and Vega trashed the place anyway."

"Uh, what? Who's Vega?"

The Freelancer snapped their attention back to Lovely once they realised the name that they accidentally dropped. "N-Nothing! I didn't s-say anything!" They laugh awkwardly, doing their best to brush off Lovely's concerned expression. "Anyway, break! Yeah! That's a good idea! Are you hungry? We can watch something on Youtube and eat in the living room. You're OK with that?"

Lovely gingerly nods; it's best not to comment or ask about this Vega person since the name alone made their friend jumpy. They push their chair back, stretch their stiff spine, and get up to help set the plates and cutleries while the Freelancer heats the lunch they made in the morning.

They then move to the living room with a tray of food and drinks, where the couch and coffee table are surrounded by pillows and blankets thrown around messily.

"You play video games, right?" The Freelancer asked after Lovely settle down on the couch with a blanket over their lap. "Do you want to watch a playthrough or something?"

"Sure! Do you and Gavin play video games too?"

"Gavin does, though he usually only plays those dating sim games for girls. It's a guilty pleasure of his."

"Oh, Otome Games? My respect for your boyfriend just levelled up. Has he ever played Hatoful Boyfriend?"

"Uh... I don't remember he ever mentioned that title. What is it about?"

"We're watching a playthrough of that game. Right now. You can watch it with me, but you can't tell Gavin anything, OK? I promise you're going to love his reactions."

Lovely's eyes light up with glee and grin widely as the Freelancer switch on the Smart TV. When thumbnails of pigeons with pink hearts in the background pop up on the screen, they immediately throw an incredulous look at the Energetic.

"That top playlist is good to watch. Come on, sit beside me." Lovely pats on the empty spot on the couch beside them, unperturbed at the look the Freelancer is giving them. "I think you're going to like Okosan."

The Freelancer press play on the first video and kick back on the couch with the Energetic. What's better than having a break after a long study session? Hanging out with a friend with some good food while watching a crazy romance video game about pigeons!

However, when the fourth video starts to play, the doorbell rings.

"Uh... are you expecting someone?" Lovely asks curiously; their head is tilting towards the door. Their plate of eggplant pasta and buttered abalones are polished on their lap. The Freelancer internally preened when they enthusiastically complimented on theirs and Gavin's cooking skills.

Anyway, the Freelancer moves their empty tray onto the coffee table and flip over the blanket to get up. "Not really. Gavin said he'll be coming back home at night." They explain and went towards the door when the doorbell ring once more.

A delivery man greets the Freelancer with a stoic face, an armful of flower bouquet, and a thick, rectangular item wrapped in hot red packaging.

"I, uh, think you got the wrong address?" They said, confused to hell and back.

The delivery man blinks, unfaze at the Freelancer's greeting. "Good afternoon. Delivery for..." He pauses to read the card attached to the bouquet. "Deviant? We received a request from Gavin to arrange a flower bouquet and some... special chocolates. He also left a message for you: My Deviant has been working so hard lately~ So I got you something to... help you relax. PS: give some of the special chocolates to that gorgeous friend of yours and their boyfriend."

The Freelancer could only gape when the delivery man finished reciting Gavin's message. From the living room, Lovely is also doing an excellent mimicking of a goldfish. Their stunned expression made the man sigh tiredly. "Look, I'm not going to judge your... bedroom activities. Just take the packages already. I still have more stops to deliver."

"O-Oh my god! I'm really, really sorry about my boyfriend!" The Freelancer finally snaps out of it and stammers an apology. Their face is bright red. They hurriedly accept the flowers and package, shoot a quick thank you and slams the door shut.

Lovely watches as the Freelancer stares into the bouquet with a mixed feeling, something between fondness and extreme embarrassment, before they scream into the large sunflowers.

They patiently wait for the Freelancer to get it out of their system before Lovely delicately asks, "So, uh, does Gavin do these sort of things often?"

"No. This is the first time ever." The Freelancer replies. Their voice is muffled because the flowers are still pressed onto their face. "That's what I get for dating an Incubus, I supposed..."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, dude! I think it's super sweet how much Gavin loves you. Flowers and chocolates? Boy got some serious game; might even give Vincent a run for his money, and you should've seen how we first met."

The Freelancer peeks through the petals and is relieved to find that Lovely wasn't put off by Gavin's forward nature. In fact, they are very accepting of the Freelancer and Gavin's relationship.

Feeling the warmth on their cheeks slowly disappearing, the Freelancer made their way back to the couch. The rectangular package is tossed onto the couch, and the bouquet is on the coffee table. The Freelancer figured they could put the fresh flowers in a water-filled vase later.

"The guy said that Gavin sent you some chocolates?" Lovely reiterate as the Freelancer began to untie the ribbon and unwraps the box.

"Special chocolates, and knowing Gavin, I kinda have an idea of what kind of chocolates they are." They admit and make quick work of tearing the paper wrappings.

Apparently, Gavin ordered two types of chocolates for his Deviant. One box holds a fancy gourmet assortment of salted almonds dipped in rich Belgium chocolate, double chocolate raspberry truffles, vanilla pieces powdered with light matcha and some white praliné hearts.

Lovely whistle, impressed over the spread. "Your boyfriend really went all out for you!"

The box below it contains rows of heart-shaped chocolates, but the short message written on the card of said box proves it's anything but ordinary treats.

'These are homemade chocolates made by one of my close associates. She's a Succubus, by the way, and renowned for her aphrodisiac desserts. You can try some first if your Energetic friend doesn't mind being a voyeur.'

The Freelancer promptly throws away the card and cues them, and Lovely shrieking in embarrassment. Neither of them expects the second batch of chocolates.

"These are sexy chocolates? Like, legit aphrodisiac chocolates made with magic!? Oh my god, I didn't know they were a thing!"

"I didn't either! I was expecting sex toys below the chocolates!"

"Wait - didn't Gavin wants to give these to Vincent and me!? Dude, does he has a thing for Vincent? Because at this point, I should tell you: he noticed that Gavin was purposely riling us up when they first met, and he's been thinking that your boyfriend is out to get him. But, uh, not in the sexy way, but I'm thinking otherwise now. And if that's the case, then you can warn that Incubus to be ready and catch these hands."

The Freelancer groans and hides their face in their hands. "OK, you know what? I'm going to put the special chocolates in the fridge, and then we'll continue watching a few more videos from the playthrough and get back to studying."

"... You're in denial."

"I'm just trying to keep whatever sanity I have left. It's been a crazy year."

"Urgh, tell me about it."

That night, at Lovely's and Vincent's apartment:

"Vincent, baby? I'm back. Look what I got!"

"Welcome home, Lovely. Dinner's ready if you're hungry. Hmm? What's that?"

"It's homemade aphrodisiac chocolates made by a Succubus. Gavin and the Freelancer gave some to us."

"...I'm gonna punch that Incubus in his smug ass face."

"...Does that mean you don't want them in the bedroom tonight?"

"OK, I'll punch him tomorrow. C'mere, Lovely. I've missed you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #freelancer (listener)#lovely (listener)#gavin #vincent solaire

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ejzah · 3 years ago

Text

A/N: And now for the comfort aspect of this story. And some more angst.

***

Where It Hurts Most, Part 6

“Kensi, is everyone alright? Did you find Deeks?” Fatima asked in Kensi’s ear, bringing her back to the present.

“Yeah, we found, found him and we’re all fine,” she told Fatima, gently releasing Deeks to take a step away. “But Deeks does need to see a doctor. He, uh, he has some facial trauma and possibly other injuries.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Fatima let out a hefty sigh. “Ok, I’ll call ahead and let the the ER to expect you guys. Paramedics should also be on the seen in about five minutes too.”

“Thanks, Fatima,” Kensi said gratefully. When she turned around again, Deeks was halfway across the room.

Several additional agents and police were starting to arrive and she could only guess how overwhelmed he felt. Although he didn’t have any obviously severe injuries, Kensi noticed he moved slowly.

As she headed towards Deeks, she noticed Kessler was stirring. He lifted his head just enough to catch her eye. She let her gaze sweep over him as a paramedic examined his knee.

“Have fun learning to walk on that again,” she said coldly. It was a harsh, cruel comment, but she didn’t feel a hint of guilt. Kessler growled something unintelligible, which she ignored in favor of hurrying to Deeks, and slipping her arm around his back.

There were more paramedics waiting and when Deeks noticed them, he held back, his hand tightening on Kensi’s arm.

“I don’t want them to touch me,” he said adamantly.

“You don’t have to.” She’d make sure no one objected.

“Kens,” Callen called out, quickly walking towards them. “I need a statement before you leave the scene. Deeks can give his after he gets checked out the hospital.”

Kensi gave the barest description she could, using as clinical of terminology as she could, conscious of Deeks’ presence. When she was finished, Callen let her go without question.

Deeks slumped in his seat a few minutes after Kensi started driving, exhaustion clear in his face. Every time he would begin to doze off, he’d jerk awake after a few seconds.

The third time it happened, Kensi reached across the console to take his hand. She squeezed it tightly and Deeks glanced over with a grateful look.

***

When they reached the ER, Kensi had Deeks sit while she checked him in at the front desk. As promised, they had a cubicle waiting for Deeks and Kensi silently thanked Fatima again. For her own peace of mind, she needed to know that he was alright, and she could tell that Deeks’ anxiety was increasing with every second.

By the time he was safely ensconced in the tiny cubicle, his legs were vibrating, right foot silently tapping against the linoleum.

His face looked significantly worse under the bright lights, each bruise, cut, and abrasion highlighted. His chin was blood, reminding Kensi of that horrible day years ago. A shudder ran through her and she reached for Deeks, this time for her own comfort.

She touched his temple, the unbloodied side, carding her fingers through his hair. It was tangled with blood and dirt, but she didn’t care.

“That feels nice,” Deeks whispered, leaning into her touch. He covered her hand for a moment, then shook his bangs out of his eyes, glancing up at her with a tired smile that was tinged with sadness.

The curtain to the cubicle slid open then, revealing a familiar face.

“Dr. Bartholomew,” Deeks said, quickly straightening with a wince.

“Mr. Deeks, Agent Blye,” he greeted them, nodding to Kensi.

Kensi felt Deeks relieve ever so slightly, some of the tension leaving his body. Dr. Charles Bartholomew had treated Deeks a few times over the years so knew some of Deeks’ medial history, if a highly redacted version.

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you…” Deeks shrugged and trailed off, giving his best attempt at a joke at the moment. Dr. Bartholomew allowed a half smirk, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. Now, you want to give me a rundown?” He addressed the question to Deeks, but glanced at Kensi as well.

“I, uh, might have some bruised ribs, my left shoulder is kind of sore, and then there’s this,” Deeks answered, gesturing to his face and head as a whole.

“And your wrists,” Kensi added quietly. “He was bound with restraints and zip ties for several hours.

“Uh-huh. Somebody certainly had it out for you Deeks,” Bartholomew observed quietly as he pulled on gloves and gently began pressing his fingers along Deeks’ hairline. His tone was non-judgments, only sympathetic.

“You could say that,” Deeks agreed darkly. He was silent for most of the examination unless asked a direct question. He flinched again when Bartholomew rolled his sleeves back to check his wrists.

After giving Deeks a couple of liquid stitches for the larger gash in his temple, Dr. Bartholomew slid his rolling stool back a few feet, and scrawled a few things down on a script pad.

“I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic and some pain medication. I know you’re probably not going to fill the second, but it’s there if you need it.” His brow rose a tad sardonically as he held out the prescription orders. Kensi accepted them, tucking both into her pocket.

“I didn’t see any signs of damage to your teeth or jaw, but I’d still like you to see your dentist or a orthodontic specialist,” he continued. Kensi noticed how careful he was to avoid the word trauma this entire time. “Given your history, I just want to make sure everything’s still in place.”

“Got it,” Deeks agreed, clenching his jaw. He’d handled the oral examination well, though he’d held Kensi’s hand the entire time, grip so tight her fingers ached.

“Good. I’m going to have a nurse bandage your wrists and give you a shot of antibiotics, then you should be good to go.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“No problem. Take care, Deeks. I hope I don’t see you for a while.”

A nurse came along a few minutes after Dr. Bartholomew left. She set up a tray of implements and bandages without looking at Deeks. She abruptly grabbed Deeks wrist and he jerked out of her grasp, much like he had with Kensi.

“Sir, I need to bandage your wrists,” she told him sharply. “Hold still.”

“No,” Deeks said, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the hospital bed.

“Deeks,” Kensi murmured, stepping between him and the nurse. “It’s ok.”

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, nearly pressing himself against the wall as the nurse descended on him. She could see instinct and fear were taking over.

“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to call security,” the nurse threatened.

“Lisa, is everything alright?” A soft voice inquired as the curtain around Deeks’ bed was pushed aside yet again. Lisa spun around to face the young woman, dressed in light blue scrubs and a headscarf, who entered the room. “Would like me to take over, Lisa?” I think Dr. Favor needs assistance in room 8.”

Nurse Lisa gave the second woman a glare, but left without comment.

“My name is Ifrah,” the younger nurse introduced herself in that same soft tone. “Is it alright if I take care of you, Mr. Deeks?”

After a moment, Deeks reluctantly nodded and sat back down. His body was fully tense again and Kensi could tell it was taking all of his willpower stay out.

Ifrah seemed well aware of this and made sure to tell Deeks exactly what she planned to do before she touched him. As Kensi held his other hand again, Ifrah began to clean his left wrist.

She talked about her teenage daughter who was starting driving lessons in a few weeks and the garden she was planting. It was mindless, but Deeks calmed under the soothing rhythm of her voice. Kensi felt his breathing slow as Ifrah carefully bandaged his wrists.

When she was done, she gave him a pat, and nodded to Kensi.

“You can check out when you’re ready,” she told Kensi.

“Thank you,” Kensi said fervently, gratefully. Ifrah just nodded and left as quietly as she’d come.

“Sorry about that,” Deeks apologized, rubbing a hand over his face and then eyeing the think bandages with distaste. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. What you went through…we understand,” she finished simply.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Deeks hesitated a moment and then slid his hand across the bed until he could twine his fingers through hers.

“Why didn’t you kill Kessler?” he murmured. “I mean, I’m not saying you should have, but I thought you’d want him gone permanently.”

Kensi drew in a long breath.

“I wanted to,” she admitted. “I think I planned to. Up until the moment I shot him, I wanted to kill Kessler more than anything.” She shrugged, avoiding Deeks eyes for a moment. “But as I was standing there and I saw what he’d done to you, what he planned to do to you, and everything else he’s done to us, I decided killing him was too easy.”

She heard Deeks inhale sharply and she purposely met his gaze.

“He doesn’t deserve to get off that easy. Kessler deserves every moment of pain and punishment from now on and I want to be there to make sure it happens.”

“What if he gets out again sometime?” He shook his head slowly, eyes filled with worry. “I don’t think I could take this again.”

“It won’t,” Kensi assured him. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t. After what he did today, everyone on this team will use all their power to make sure Kessler never has the chance to hurt us again.”

“Ok,” Deeks said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Kensi ran her fingers through his hair again and pulled him towards her.

“We’re free, Deeks,” she said, pressing their foreheads together. He made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and tilted her chin up to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with relief, the remnants of pain, and more hope than Kensi had felt in months. “We’re free,” she repeated, holding Deeks closer.

***

A/N: And I think that’s it, guys! I hope this was a satisfying ending for you all. Thanks so much for your enthusiastic and lovely response to this story, which was somewhat outside my normal range.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #angst #hurt/comfort #ding dong Kessler’s gone #where it hurts most #part 6 #ejzah fanfiction

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unforth · 3 years ago

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Me, yesterday, while queuing art for mdzsartreblogs: ...this art looks really familiar...like the art of [redacted]...

Me, yesterday: pokes a little at their tumblr Well there's no big DNIs or anything, that would suggest they're not [redacted]...and I don't have them blocked already...but this could be a new account...oh well, guess I'll queue it...

Me, today, while queuing more art: ...oh here they are again...this REALLY looks like [redacted]...

Me, today: maybe I'll just poke around a liiiittle more...just in case...cause seriously I never want to interact with [redacted] again. Ever.

Me, today: ...there's a carrd link now, that's new...

Them:

Me, today: shoulda trusted my instincts yesterday. Definitely [redacted].

Me, today: removes their posts from the queue. blocks them.

I will never understand why some people who claim to not want certain types of interactions work so, so hard to obscure that. [redacted] has changed their username at least four times - this time by making an entirely new account - since they sent me ageist anti insanity last year. Like for someone who supposedly wants certain groups of people to avoid them...they sure make themselves fucking hard to avoid...it's a good thing their art style is so distinctive or I coulda ended up having to deal with them again.

#unforth rambles #i probably shouldn't even post this #but i'm tired and i have insomnia and the amount of effort this person is making me go to in order to avoid them is fucking annoying #if you don't want people to interact with your stuff #then why the fuck are you posting in the main tag #and burying your dni four links deep in your carrd

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whentherewerebicycles · 10 months ago

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it feels bad to feel so bad about this dynamic at work 😩 and so unfair when every other part of the job is so good. I had stress dreams about it all night and woke up feeling almost hungover from the experience. also I asked for and thought I’d received permission to work from home because I’m attending this all-day virtual conference but then [redacted] said “see you tomorrow” in an email sent at 7pm last night so now I feel like I’m expected to commute an hour round trip so I can sit at my desk on zoom with the door closed for six hours. in an empty office because most of the team is on spring break. which I’ll do to avoid further issues but also like. bleh. just have this bad feeling in the pit in my stomach about all of it and I hate it I don’t like feeling this on edge :((( I also think the fact that I’m still in pain/sleeping poorly is making me feel even more vulnerable and off-kilter. so I guess I should keep in mind that my stress reactions might be heightened right now and just try to like. breathe.

the day:

5-7 coffee, emails, feel bad in bed I guess

7-8 shower/get ready, breakfast

8:30-9 commute to work

virtual conference all day but between sessions:

work on documentation for PR

meet with CB

email SP about student speakers

email RD about program funds

work on slides for PC workshop

figure out parking for tomorrow

work on program description for DS

then after work today:

walk dogs

do laundry

pack for trip

arrange dropoff time with dog sitter

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daisybeewrites · 3 years ago

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Academy Blues

avoi-dance!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: nightmares

ship: dousy (daisy johnson/daniel sousa)

ahahaha dousy is becoming a spark

Shaking.

Quaking.

Rubble falling.

Bones snapping.

Something dark on the floor.

He’s gone.

Daisy bolted upright, ribs expanding and contracting rapidly. The bed was shaking. A small cacti was on the floor, sand and pebbles thrown across the rug, pieces of the decorative pot shattered. She looked over at her clock.

2:14am. Great.

Daisy quickly rose, gathering her rug in one hand and a sweatshirt in the other. She walked down the hall, quiet as a mouse, still shaky.

Breathe, Daisy, She told herself.

She reached the bathroom without encountering anyone. She set the rug on the counter, gathering the tiny cactus and shaking it out of the soil.

“Ouch,” She inhaled sharply. Cacti are prickly.

The mirror rattled a bit as Daisy shook the sand and pebbles into the trash. She held back tears, the aftershocks of her nightmare hitting her.

A presence in the doorway caught her attention.

“Daisy? What’re you doin’?”

Jemma sounded like she had just woken up, her accented voice thick and scratchy with sleep.

Daisy opened her mouth to respond, but her voice cracked on the first syllable. Jemma’s eyes widened, registering the sight before her. She rushed over, enveloping Daisy in a tight hug. Jemma could feel Daisy’s chest racking with sobs. At least she could comfort her now, like she wasn’t allowed to before.

Jemma slowly pulled away as Daisy’s cries became quieter and less frequent. The small cacti was still resting on the counter, the rug discarded on the tiled floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jemma asked gently.

Daisy looked up, the rattling of the mirror lessening as she exhaled.

“I broke my cactus,” She sniffled, a few tears escaping as she stared at the broken succulent. She was really looking forward to watching this one grow.

Daisy shook her head, wiping her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeve. Silently, the pair picked up the rug and walked back to Daisy’s room. Daisy saved the small cacti, not quite able to just throw it in the trash. Jemma surveyed the furniture, making sure that nothing else had fallen. Her room was in its usual messy yet organized array. It made Jemma’s skin itch, but at least Daisy knew where everything was. Daisy collapsed onto her bed, pulling a fuzzy blanket around her shoulders.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Daisy thought for a moment, watching Jemma fidget with her fingers and rub her neck, noting her under eye circles and the sluggish way she smiled.

“I’m good,” Daisy said.

Jemma raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “Are you sure? I don’t mind, really,” She offered.

Daisy nodded. “I promise, I’m good.”

Jemma hesitantly nodded, then left, softly closing the door behind her.

Daisy flopped backwards onto her pillows. She wasn't sleeping anytime soon.

Daisy woke at 9:36 later that day, her alarm buzzing softly and her phone screen lit with several missed calls from Elena and May.

7:04–May

Are you otw?

7:10–Yo-yo

daisy, you’re late

7:15–Missed call from May (2)

8:02–Yo-yo

may is pissed

get your best sorry ready

Daisy sighed. Fuck nightmares.

She had already missed half of second period, not that it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know how to do. Might as well take advantage of the empty canteen.

After speedily brushing her teeth and getting dressed, Daisy grabbed her backpack and headed out.

True to routine, the canteen was void of people, save for a group of fifth-years chatting in the corner. Daisy grabbed her usual cinnamon raisin bagel and coffee and found a spot near the back doors. If May came in, she would run. It was too early and Daisy was too tired to deal with May’s concern.

Daisy glanced up as the doors across the large hall opened again, almost spitting out her coffee at who walked in.

Ohmygodhe’scomingoverhere, don’t be an idiot!

“Hey, Danny Boy,” Daisy greeted. Smooth, very good start.

“Hey, Dais,” He said, morning voice rough and low. Daisy ignored the rising number on her biometer watch and quickly hid her hand under the table, resting on her bouncing knee.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Just getting up, are we?”

Daniel shrugged, “My alarm clock is broken, and I’m ahead in all my classes anyway. Missing one to trade for sleep won’t hurt me.”

“Aren’t you in May’s class, though? She hates when people skip,” Daisy asked.

Daniel thought this over for a second before responding, demeanor a tad sheepish. “I might have already asked for the notes for this week, everything she’s teaching today I’ve already been studying.”

Daisy smiled. Nerd.

“Well, in that case, would you care to join me in my avoidance of classes?”

Daniel checked his analog watch, second period was almost over. “Sure. My third is calculus, and all we do in there is textbook work anyway.”

Daisy stood up, stretching a bit. Daniel followed her out of the canteen, across the grounds, and around the girls’ dorms.

“Uh, Daisy, where exactly are we going?”

Daisy grinned. “Ever been on the roof, Sousa?”

Sousa looked up at the top of the building. “Are we allowed up there?”

Daisy furrowed her brows, responding with a noncommittal hum. Did he not want to go up there?

“To master the art of avoidance, you must be unpredictable. Go where no one will find you. Dance along the edge of expectations,” Daisy exclaimed dramatically. “That’s why it’s called avoi-dance. We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Daniel laughed, eyes smiling. “Ladies first,” He offered.

Daisy clambered onto the iron fire escape, waiting for Daniel on the first landing and giving him a hand. They started up the stairs together, wind blowing softly over their faces.

“So,” Daisy started when they reached the top, “This is it.”

Daniel watched as Daisy made a grand gesture, crouching down near an outlet to plug in the lights.

Putting on her best realtor voice, Daisy led Daniel around the space.

“In this corner we have a lovely, absolutely gorgeous three-hundred-sixty degree view of campus. Look! There are students in their natural habitat!

“And over here, we have a wonderful assortment of plants, both alive and barely clinging to life, just like most of the human inhabitants of the building!”

Daniel chuckled, nodding sagely. “Now, let’s talk money. What is the price per square foot, and how much are you suggesting as a down payment?”

Daisy’s grin faltered, not sure exactly what Sousa was talking about. Daniel’s smile grew wider at the slightly confused, completely adorable look on her face.

“Were you planning on getting work done?” Daniel asked.

Daisy shrugged, setting her backpack down and leaning against the low wall surrounding the edge of the roof. He joined her, sitting with one leg out and the other bent at his knee.

“It won’t take me long to finish this,” Daisy said, opening her laptop.

Daniel watched on as Daisy coded, taking mental notes of how her fingers glided over the keys, typing at a speed he could barely comprehend. She bit her bottom lip in concentration, pausing for a moment to assess her work, then continuing to circumvent the little red error messages that appeared at the top of her screen.

“How do you know what all that means?” Daniel asked. Daisy stopped typing for a moment to look over at him, tilting her head a bit.

“I guess I just picked it up pretty quick. When I was still living in my van, before Coulson found me, I had to make money somehow, so I started building codes and programs for people who needed it. They were definitely shady, and it got me into a couple tough spots, but I could always just move my van away, drive somewhere else.”

Daniel didn’t press for more information. Daisy seemed not to want to talk about it, as she turned back to her computer and let her hair fall into her face. A few minutes later, she pressed enter, and threw her hands up.

“Yes! Finally!”

Daniel peeked at her screen. Instead of a red error message, there was a small check at the top of her screen.

“So what exactly did you just do with the numbers and the symbol things?”

Daisy laughed lightly. “Sometimes SHIELD creates programs specifically for Academy students to hack into, so we can practice getting around firewalls and beating different layers of protection. At the end is usually some redacted file or just a blank document. Sometimes the Professors let the advanced students hack into companies and emails if they need help. It gives us ‘a wide range of practical experience.’”

Daniel scrunched his eyebrows, checking his watch. “So does it normally only take you fifteen minutes to complete assignments like this?”

Daisy smirked, “I don’t mean to brag, but yes. Most kids in my class can do it in forty-five, but I like to challenge myself.”

Daniel’s jaw dropped, amazed. “Wow. So in a couple years I’ll be doing that? I can keep up with CS 1, but that is…” He trailed off, not sure exactly how to describe it.

Daisy nodded, “It takes awhile to get used to, to understand. It’s like learning any other language, it helps if you start young, and I practically depended on coding for survival when I was in my teens. It gave me a huge leg up.”

Daniel let his gaze wander over Daisy’s face. She had a lot more to her than meets the eye. He looked into her eyes, finding her already staring at him, an intent look on her face. She opened her mouth to say somethi—

Briiiiiiiiiiing.

The bell cut her off. Daisy looked away quickly, cheeks tinted pink. Daniel made no move to get up, and neither did Daisy. They waited until it was over to speak again.

“I guess we should probably get going?”

Daisy agreed, standing up and reaching out a hand for Sousa to take. They walked back to campus together, parting ways to get to their classes.

Daisy passed by May’s room on her way to Physics, walking quickly and staring straight ahead.

“Daisy!”

Daisy stopped, walking backwards to stand in the open door of May’s classroom. No one was there but May.

Daisy slowly approached May down the rows of desks, smiling rather guiltily.

“Hey, May! How are you?” Daisy asked, voice an octave higher than normal. May had on her ‘Mom Face’, as Daisy called it, eyebrows slightly raised and lips pursed in a straight line.

“You know, leather jackets look great on you!” Daisy tried, picking at her nails, unable to maintain eye-contact without her chest constricting. May stayed silent.

Daisy dropped the cheery façade, sighing. This would get her nowhere.

“I’m sorry. I had a rough night and slept through my alarm. If it makes you feel better, I also missed my first three periods,” Daisy rushed out, exhaling sharply.

May sat back onto her desk, patting the space beside her.

“Call me next time,” May said, voice soft. “Asking for help isn’t weak, Daisy, and I don’t know how to help if you don’t tell me. I don’t have a class next period.”

Daisy nodded, a slight sting in her eyes. May continued, “You’ve had a rough year. I get it. But Daisy, running from those you love, who love you? It doesn’t work. Trust me, I’ve tried. The only thing that will work is facing your fears head-on, and keep running at them until eventually they’re powerless. You need closure.”

Daisy rested her head on May’s shoulder, unable to look her in the eye.

“I’m sorry, May,” Daisy apologized, voice small.

May wrapped an arm around her in a side hug.

“You don’t need to apologize. Let’s go work out some problems, my way.”

In the canteen, Jemma and Fitz sat in their usual spot by the back windows, both munching on spaghetti and rolls.

“Fitz! Tell me you didn’t!”

Fitz looked up from where he was tinkering with a piece of tech that looked suspiciously like an ICER with a small cloaking device attached to the side.

“I didn’t,” He replied. He kept tinkering with the small gun until it made a loud pop! and shocked him.

“Ouch!” Fitz winced, promptly dropping the modified ICER on the table, empty cartridge bouncing onto the floor. He bent to pick it up, reassembling the tech and taking another bite of pasta.

“Have you figured out the problem?” Jemma asked.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “It’s not a problem, Jemma, it’s just that I, uh, I can’t get the…” Fitz paused, waggling his hands in the air as if he was grasping for the right word.

“The concentration? Weight? Bullets?” Jemma supplied.

“The bullets work! Non-lethal, heavy stopping power, break up under the subcutaneous tissue. Same ones from when we were working on The Bus. No, it’s the, um, the safety. It keeps going off without my permission,” Fitz finished.

Jemma took a bite of her roll. “Are you using one-hundred nano-liters of dendrotoxin like I suggested?”

Fitz nodded. “That’s in the bullets. This is just the design. I can’t figure out the balance, with the addition of cloaking, it’s thrown my whole design off.”

“Maybe Daisy has an idea? She’s listened to us ramble on for years, she’s actually used them.”

Fitz and Jemma looked around for Daisy. It was 6, dinner started at 5, and they always ate together.

“Usually she’s here by now,” Jemma frowned. The three of them had fallen into a comfortable routine, meeting at lunch and dinner and making plans to study after.

“There’s that guy she’s been hanging out with, er,” Fitz paused, snapping his fingers, “Sousa! Maybe he knows something,” Fitz pointed to where Sousa was eating a plate of chicken and rice near the entrance to the canteen.

“Are you going to go talk to him?”

Fitz looked back at Daniel, considering his options. On one hand, he had never talked to the guy. What if he said something wrong and made a bad first impression? On the other hand, Fitz needed to make sure Daisy was okay. They had a routine they had agreed to stick to, and if she was off routine, it meant something was wrong.

“Let’s go together,” Fitz half-suggested, half-asked.

Jemma nodded, getting up and walking with Fitz across the cafeteria to stand in front of Daniel.

“Hello,” Jemma started, “Have you seen Daisy lately? We’ve noticed the two of you together recently.”

Fitz stood slightly behind Jemma, fingers weaving themselves together.

Daniel took in the two of them, noticing Jemma’s thumb swiping nervously across her palm.

“Would you like to sit down?” Daniel offered.

“No, thank you, we’d really just like to find Daisy,” Fitz rushed out, looking slightly above Daniel’s eyes as he talked.

Daniel nodded. “Are you guys Fitzsimmons? Daisy talks about you a lot, I’m glad to finally meet you. But to answer your question, I haven’t seen her since third period. Is something wrong?”

Jemma sighed. “She had a bad nightmare last night, but when I left she said she was fine. I went to check on her this morning but she didn’t answer, I assumed she was out for a run.”

Daniel furrowed his brows. Daisy hadn’t mentioned a nightmare. “Is that why she was missing her morning classes?”

“She’s sleep deprived and has a tendency to entirely abandon routines if she doesn’t get off on the right foot. I bet she’s with May,” Jemma said, looking to Fitz for confirmation.

Fitz just nodded, staring at Jemma.

“Great,” Jemma clapped her hands, “Should we go find her?”

It took Daniel a moment to realize the question was directed at him. “Oh, uh, yes, sure,” He stammered, getting up and jogging a bit to catch up to Fitz and Jemma.

“Oof!” Daisy exclaimed. She and May had been sparring for the past couple hours. Hours. Daisy was absolutely exhausted. May was feeling fine.

From the mat, Daisy reached a hand up so May could pull her up. Instead of getting up, though, Daisy pulled hard, flipping May over. May rolled rather chunkily, ending in a position that was half-squatting, half-sitting.

Maybe she was a little more tired than she let on.

“Good one. Next time, roll with the flip, too. If your attacker is faster than you, you could’ve just given them a free shot.”

Daisy got up slowly, dusting herself off and extending a hand out to May.

“Truce?”

May nodded. Then Daisy’s world spun, and she was flat on her back.

“Ughh. I deserved that,” Daisy panted.

May smirked, staying on the floor with Daisy.

“Feel any better?”

Daisy shrugged. “I’ll at least sleep hard,” She said, still catching her breath.

“There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Daisy lifted her head off the mat to see Jemma and Fitz walking into the gym. Daniel was behind them.

Daisy sat fully up, allowing Jemma to help her to her feet.

“Sorry guys. I should have called,” Daisy grimaced.

Fitz shrugged, “It’s okay, Dais, we got Daniel to, er, tag along with us. He was a good ‘replacement you’ for a while.”

Daisy looked over to Daniel, who was trying to hide a blush by clearing his throat and looking anywhere but Daisy.

Oh, right. She was wearing nothing but a sports bra and spandex training shorts.

Daisy walked over to the edge of the mat, stretching out her arms and grabbing her SHIELD sweatshirt, tugging it on.

“Thank you, guys, I appreciate the concern,” Daisy checked her watch, “You already ate dinner?”

Jemma and Fitz nodded.

“Okay, I’ll grab something with May and see you at the dorms?”

Fitz gave her a thumbs up and left, Jemma right behind him. May grabbed her water bottle, letting Daisy know that she’d be in the canteen.

“And then there were two,” Daisy laughed nervously, threading her fingers together and shifting from side to side.

Daniel smiled, “And then there were two.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them.

“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning. You didn’t have to,” Daisy blurted.

Daniel shrugged, frowning, “I wanted to.”

Daisy turned away from Daniel, face heating up. He wanted to hang out with her?

Daisy bent to grab her gym bag. When she turned back around, Daniel was waiting for her.

“You can tell me, you know, if you’re having a rough go of it. I won’t judge,” He stated, calm and collected.

Daisy nodded, unsure how to respond. She rose up onto her tiptoes and rocked back, once, twice, three times before letting out a slow exhale.

“Have you eaten dinner?” She asked.

“Sorta. I was about to eat before I left with Fitz and Simmons,” He said.

“Well, you’re welcome to eat with me and May,” Daisy offered.

Daniel grinned.

“I’ll take your bag.”

They arrived a number of minutes later at the canteen, Daisy offering to take her bag every couple minutes and Daniel readjusting the black duffel on his shoulder, refusing.

May thought they were exceptionally cute.

“Took you long enough,” The short woman said, amusement lacing her words.

Daisy plopped into a seat before Daniel could pull one out.

“I’m gonna go get some grub, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Daniel announced.

May raised an eyebrow at Daisy, whose face promptly went pink.

“He’s a dork,” She said, “He was awed by my CS homework.”

“Was it the homework, or was it you?”

May shot Daisy a very pointed look, to which Daisy rolled her eyes.

“Whatever.”

“He’s very square” May observed, watching him over Daisy’s shoulder.

Daniel came up behind her, holding a plate with a cinnamon raisin bagel in one hand and a plate of chicken and rice in the other.

“I didn’t know what else you’d like, but I felt bad for not grabbing you anything.”

May hid a laugh by clearing her throat. Daisy reached out to accept the bagel, avoiding eye contact with May.

After dinner, back at the dorm, Jemma and Daisy were sprawled out on Daisy’s bed. Jemma held her flashcards in her hand, quizzing herself while Daisy talked.

“May says I need ‘closure’, whatever that means. I thought I had closure. I went to his funeral. I hugged his sister!”

Jemma set her cards down, accepting that she wasn’t going to get any more studying done.

“But you don’t know what happened. You were being controlled, you weren’t here. Daisy, you’ve always needed answers. You’ve never been able to leave a problem alone if you didn’t have the full story.”

Daisy sighed. Jemma was right.

“Well… On to happier subjects. Tell me about the new marine bio elective. How’s that going?”

Daisy smiled softly as Jemma’s face lit up and her hands came up to flap excitedly. Jemma went off on several different tangents about the professor’s experiences as a wildlife photographer and the different coral reefs they were studying in class. Daisy tried to listen, really, she did, but she found herself stuck in her head, responding with passive hums and ‘yeah’s.

Eventually, Jemma seemed to run out of steam, her smile still wide and face slightly flushed from how she had been ranting about climate change’s effects on the world’s reefs.

“It’s 10. I’m going to head up to bed.”

Daisy nodded. She had a plan.

She walked with Jemma back down the hall to her room, bidding her a good night. Daisy got back to her room, breathing in the quiet, then settled onto her rug against her bed, laptop sat in front of her. Lines of code danced on the screen, the light from the computer highlighting her face.

“You have to do this. You need closure,” Daisy murmured.

Daisy sat up, stretching. She changed positions several times, finally landing upside down on her bed. She craned her neck to read her clock, 11:23. Last chance to turn back, you know the consequences. You could get kicked out of SHIELD. They won’t trust you anymore.

Daisy pressed enter.

#daisy johnson #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#dousy #daniel sousa #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #philindaisy #aos fic #mama may #marvel #melinda may #phil coulson #ash writes

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Serpent of Eden (Part 2 - Reid Series)

~ Reader’s one-night-stand with Spencer turns into a year long semester ~

Summary: Spencer and Reader attempt to navigate through the shock, horror, and confusion of the revelation that Spencer is a professor at Reader’s college. Couple: Fem!Reader x Professor Spencer Reid Category: Series, Fluff, Angst, (eventually smut) Word Count: 1.5k (this will probably be my shortest chapter) Content Warning: mentions of one-night-stand, age gap, teacher-student relationship Disclaimer: This is a filler chapter, and you’ll probably find it boring, but it moves the story along so that we can get to the exciting parts next chapter.

PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

What’s that saying again?

It’s a small world?

Well, after today - I certainly agree.

More as a comment to myself, I muttered, “I guess I should’ve asked for your last name after all, Spencer.”

Was this my cruel and unusual punishment for my first one-night-stand? If so, this was enough humiliation to convince me it should be my first and last one-night-stand.

His eyes were wide with astonishment; his eyebrows knitted together. “I thought you said you worked at a law firm.”

He wasn’t mad or accusing me of lying, but he was more stunned than anything that I was really here standing in front of him. I knew his voice to be too kind to be accusatory.

“That wasn’t a lie. I do work at a law firm - I’m an intern there,” I said matter-of-factly. “I only said that to impress you because you were older and had this big shot job. Which reminds me - you said you were part of the FBI.”

“I am, but I occasionally teach here.” He almost chuckled.

It was the slight pout of both of our mouths that proved a mutual resignation to the fact that we’d reached a stalemate. We both ran out of moves and there was nowhere for us to go if we kept on this path, not unless one of us surrendered to the other, which wasn’t really an option here. Simply by the look on his face, I could tell he was going to assume the responsibility of inciting a productive discourse. And I let him, for subconsciously, I looked to him to be the bigger person, the more mature one, the wiser one, for he was the older one, too. Whether or not this was taking advantage of the natural assertiveness one gains with age, I wasn’t sure.

“W-what are you doing here?” He finally asked, bringing me back to the harsh reality of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Had this been any other teacher, I might’ve not been so embarrassed to admit I was 20 years old and serving detention for being dress-coded. But, alas, it wasn’t any other teacher - it was Spencer . . . or Dr. Reid? Is that what I have to call him now?

“I got detention.” I sheepishly admitted.

The furrowing of his brows and narrowing of his eyes told me he didn’t believe me; all the signs of skepticism plain on his face.

“I was dress coded earlier.” If it was at all possible, that statement sounded even more ridiculous.

“Dress coded?” He clarified, like he almost didn’t believe me.

“I started taking off my sweater - not like that!” I quickly redacted, and the stunned look on his face told me he almost took it that way and found amusement in doing so. “I wasn’t stripping in front of the entire school. I just wanted to take my sweater off.”

“That shouldn’t warrant detention, though.”

“That’s what I was saying!”

And the comfortable, lighthearted dynamic that brought us together only two nights ago resumed as if it had never paused. It felt like we were at the bar again, talking as strangers falling in love, but here in this sterile classroom, I was chilled by the reminder that we were no longer two strangers getting drunk off the other’s presence. We were a student and a teacher in a professional setting.

“I’m just gonna sit down, now.” I awkwardly announced, fumbling into the furthest seat from him.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just report to Ms. Whitman that you served detention, but you can go now. You don’t have to stay.” He turned away from me sharply and towards his desk, all but refusing to meet my eyes.

“No, that wouldn’t be right.”

As the sentence came from my mouth, my mind wandered into a trap my words had set. “What was right about this?” Because really, nothing was.

I knew I was charting dangerous territories by staying in his classroom alone with him, but those weren’t my intentions. If anything, this was one of those times where my “goody-two-shoes” mentality failed me. I was only furthering the chance something might happen and heightening my own attraction.

The more and more I sat across from the ever contemplative Dr. Reid, the more his figure began transforming into a work of art. I started to notice the little details, the nuances, the paint strokes. I couldn’t be bothered to figure out what he was actually doing, but I took notice of the manner that he was doing it in. He studied his papers carefully with almost the same level of intent as I had looking at him. Occasionally, his tongue would poke out between his lips and wet them, scarcely reacquainting me with the thought of how they felt against my own. His eyes would narrow at the words while he read them; his eyebrows twitching up every so often as a physical reaction to his reading material.

“Are you just going to spend the rest of detention staring at me, or are you actually going to get some work done?”

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my daze and before I could re-enter this dimension, he was already looking at me through smiling eyes.

“I am doing my work!” I defensively screeched.

“Oh, yeah? If I come over there right now and you haven’t written a single thing -”

“What?” I jested. “You gonna punish me?”

The words slipped from my mouth before my mind could process its subtly seductive suggestions.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” My eyes fell to my homework that I hadn’t even started on as a way to avoid his. He looked so entertained by my previous words, and that made it even worse. How could he possibly enjoy my flirtatious advances when there was so much at risk?

“I guess we should talk about-”

“What’s there to talk about?” I abruptly interrupted. “It’s not like I have your class now, and I’ve been rejected from auditing it before, so we don’t have to see each other in school ever after today.” I rambled.

“In school?” He repeated.

“What?”

“You said we don’t have to see each other in school ever after today. Were you implying that you … you want to still see me outside of -”

“No!”

I answered all too quickly for it to appear like an honest response. He was too smart to see it as anything besides what it really was - a way to save my ass.

“I mean … yeah, I did want to see you again. But that was before I found out you’re a professor at my college.”

“Part time.” He emphasized, as if that somehow made things less illegal.

A frown formed on my face to tell him that that clarification didn’t make anything better.

“It’s your call.” I finally renounced. This was probably the most honest and raw my emotions could have been. I couldn’t have said anything truer to my feelings than that. “You have more at risk here than I do. If you say you don’t want to see me again, then you won’t. But if you think there’s something between us worth exploring, I’m willing to make it work.”

He was visibly conflicted; the weight of my words stealing his voice. He was quiet for more moments than comfortable, but he would finally tell me his answer only after rising from his desk to join me at the other end of the classroom. I stood up from my desk, making our lack of professional distance all the more glaringly obvious.

“(Y/n),” He slid a hand onto my cheek and up through my hair. “You’re worth the risk.”

He was about to seal his promise with a kiss, but when we leaned in, three hard knocks hit against the door. I jumped back in startlement, while Spencer did just the opposite. He leapt into action, abandoning me at the back of the classroom to flee to the front. He must’ve recognized the knocks were coming from the janitor just outside his door.

“Any trash you need taken out, Mr. Reid?” The janitor asked while scanning the room, glazing right over me.

“No, nope. I’m okay today, thank you. Bye, Randy.” Spencer waved him away with his hand, and luckily, I must’ve camouflaged into the wall because he didn’t seem to see me or my profuse blushing.

“I’m so sorry. I forgot he comes here every Monday at 3:45.” Spencer apologized while slowly making his way back to me.

“You forgetting something? How can that be.” I joked - well enough to hide my ever growing paranoia behind a mask of comical enjoyment.

“What can I say? That’s what you do to me. You make me forget everything else in the world.”

His words were enough to woo me certainly, even enough to accept his resumed kiss, but they weren’t enough to convince me to commit to the moment. It was spoiled by the knowledge of our sins, stolen by the fear of our actions. I simply couldn’t enjoy our relationship to the fullest anymore.

And I never would again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 HERE!

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taglist: @andiebeaword @jesspavlik0vsky

#serpent of eden #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #professor spencer reid #juniorgman187 #angst #fluff #smut

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smallblueandloud · 4 years ago

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dude… i’m thinking about starting doctor who… give me your thoughts lmao

AAAAAAA

okay. okay. i'm gonna be reasonable about this. i'm not gonna bias you against perfectly good seasons.

I'M TRYING SO HARD HERE I'M GONNA TRY TO NOT HATE ON THINGS THAT YOU MIGHT ENJOY. most of this is under a cut because i apparently have a LOT of thoughts about this, the show i was hyperfixated on for two entire years. go figure!

okay. first thing: don't skip nine. some people might tell you to, and like, you do you and all, but s1 of nuwho is one of my favorite seasons and i don't think anyone should skip it.

(for clarity's sake -- you probably know all this, but you asked for my thoughts, so -- there are two "kinds" of doctor who. classic who is doctors 1-7 and mostly in black and white. it started in the 60s and it's wild and i haven't seen ANY of it, but i know a few people who are super into it, so it appeals! then the show got cancelled. then they did a few movies with the 8th doctor. then they rebooted the series in 2005 with the 9th doctor. that show is still ongoing and it's what i mean when i say nuwho. it's all i've seen, so it's gonna be what i have opinions on lol. nuwho starts on 1x01 "rose", so you can make sure you're watching the right season.)

PERSONALLY, my favorite era of the show is RTD's, which are the first four seasons of nuwho and showrunned by Russell T. Davies. my favorite companion is donna, because her dynamic with the doctor is PERFECTION, but i also really really love rose and martha. the season arcs are kinda all over the place but they're really fun! the show has HEART, okay, it's all about kindness and helping people and solving mysteries and i love it. it doesn't treat its characters of color (martha and mickey) very well, which is my main issue with his run. it makes it hard to enjoy whole episodes of s1, so just, be aware.

then there's the moffat era, from seasons 5 to 10. he. sure wrote a tv show. many people have written about how much they love that era, which i would direct you to rather than trying to write it myself, since i'm... not a huge moffat fan, lol. a lot of people liked how elaborate his plots were and especially how he wrote 11 and 12! (also the master during his era is super popular, but i don't want to spoil much so i'm trying to avoid talking about them lol.) (i will concede, he wrote "blink" in s2 and i LOVE that episode, it's one of the more famous ones for a reason.) bill potts, the fourth (and final) companion of his era, is the first regularly appearing queer companion, and i haven't watched all of her season but i love her.

and right now we're in the chibnall era, which has had two seasons (11 and 12)! honestly i can't articulate what he's about yet, since it hasn't been very long, but his doctor is a DELIGHT and i love her companions. also spyfall was literally everything i've wanted out of television, ever, so i'm kinda legally obligated to enjoy his stuff.

okay, that's eras down. now for shipping: i'm a huge doctor/rose shipper. i can't tell you how popular it is in the fandom at large, but a quick glance at ao3 tells me 10rose has more than two times as many fics as the second most popular doctor who ship (11/river). so do with that what you will! the age gap is weird in the first season, which is why i don't usually headcanon that they're together then, but in s2 it's much more of an... equal partnership? idk if i'm wording this right, i have SUCH a soft spot for 9rose that it's hard to strike the right balance lol. the point is: if 9rose doesn't appeal to you, don't write off doctor/rose entirely, at least not until you've seen s2.

(can you guess which part of the doctor/rose ship appeals to me the most. Can You Guess. hint: there's a reason why s4 is my favorite dw season, and possibly my favorite of television ever.)

i'm also a HUGE fan of random femslash ships between the companions. rose/martha has stolen my heart, but rose/clara is popular (and very sweet) and also What If Yaz And Clara Dated. literally pick two female companions' names at random and i will be extremely into whatever ship that makes.

(sidenote, i'm looking at the ao3 ships again and PROPS to 13yaz shippers for having more fics than doctor/master?? Good For Y'all.)

oh okay and also the master exists. uhhh without too many spoilers: the master is another time lord who grew up with the doctor, and they're kinda... best enemies? (ignore me, i spent two hours today watching sarah z's video on a certain webcomic.) there is one certainty in the doctor's life and it's that they will always have to kill the master one more time. obviously that's the kinda angst that appeals, and they always have Delicious tension when they're both onscreen, so just like. yeah. if you want tortured gay time lords, stay tuned, because that'll be there.

(RTD is gay, i believe, so his storylines are. queer. you will not be surprised that he created jack harkness. the doctor's first onscreen kiss in the reboot, ever, was with a man. Thanks RTD!)

uhhhh that was a lot of words. one more thing: people are gonna tell you you Have to watch This Episode, or This Season, or whatever, and here is my advice on that. do whatever you want! listen to whoever's recommendations you want. it is perfectly fine to skip episodes or entire seasons if you're just not feeling them. i stopped halfway through the s8 finale and still, to this day, have not started s9, and it's fine! watch whatever you want. skip s1 if you're not feeling it! the show is pretty disjointed between doctors, which is disappointing if you want them to reference a long-gone companion, but makes it super easy to skip around.

okay, NOW i'm going to wrap this up. i was hyperfixated on doctor who for YEARS so i have SO MANY THOUGHTS. i keep meaning to get back into it and... hmm, is this a sign? should i go rewatch doctor who? i'm crying PREEMPTIVELY about [redacted episode that features a white wall, for all the whovians reading this] so obviously that is a yes and i will get on it immediately. PLEASE PLEASE let me know how it goes, i'd love to hear your thoughts as you watch!! good luck and enjoy the ride!

#claudiasjeanscregg #doctor who #sb and l rambles #sb and l answers #sb and l watches dw #oh MAN that was so many thoughts #uhhh closing thought is i'm looking at ao3 and rose is in more dw fics than any other character even the 10th doctor #It's What She Deserves Tbh #if you want fic recs i have those too!!!#literally anything oh my god this is so exciting i hope you enjoy!!

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