#figured it would be best to jump straight into the machine itself and not deal with the violent precedent
Text
Murder podcasts
Spencer Reid x reader
Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy)
A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out.
The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help?
Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now.
I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago.
Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast.
“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.
I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass.
“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device.
“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink.
I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy.
I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me.
Spencer's cheek turned red immediately.
“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.
“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend.
“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula?
Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.
“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek.
“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said, rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.
“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.”
“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background.
“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face.
I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face.
“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls.
“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind.
“You wanna talk about it?”
I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.
When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me.
He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips.
I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven.
As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him.
“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly.
“What did you cook?”
“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back.
A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle.
“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food.
Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here.
“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?”
“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?”
He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday.
“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”
“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils.
Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever.
#spencer reid#spencer x reader#doctor reid#spencer reid x reader#reid x reader#reid fluff#spencer fluff#cm#cm x reader#criminal minds#dr. spencer reid#spencer#spencer reid fluff#x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer x you#y/n
320 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay with me - tony stark x fem!reader
A/N: I've re entered my marvel phase once again and I'm not mad about it! I'm so desperate to see Black Widow it looks so good! Anyway enjoy this. The details about panic attacks are based on my personal experiences but they can effect different people in different ways.
Warnings: Panic attacks, swearing
***= Time Skip
Word Count: 2680
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Guys I’m going to be fine. I always am. It was a one-time thing, I promise” I sighed as Nat, Steve and Bruce followed me into the kitchen of the avengers compound.
“We just want you to be okay, it didn’t exactly look like you enjoyed the experience.” Nat said sitting opposite me.
“You almost passed out. That happening while your out is the last thing any of us want for you.” Bruce added. I sipped my drink, not wanting to continue this conversation. The team had becoming increasingly cautious around me since I had a really bad panic attack last week. The truth is I’ve been dealing with them since I was a kid, before I’d even met any of the avengers, I just learnt how to hide them. But last week, things got too much, and I lost control. I don’t remember much but evidently everyone found out. They thought this was a new thing to me and were now trying to wrap me up like some sort of fragile object.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to be with Casey, and I’m literally just going to be sat in an office all day. The hardest thing I will have to do is battle her shitty coffee machine” I joked, trying to get them to drop the subject. My best friend Casey had asked me to come into work with her to sort through a bunch of files that her boss had dumped on her after she broke up with him. I have no clue what she actual does but she was apparently ‘up to her tits’ in paperwork so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to join her. Just then my phone rang.
“Hey Case, I’m just about to leave. Yeah I’ll meet you at the station. Okay cool. Bye” I hung up and grabbed my bag. “Well, this has been fun, but I have a train to catch so I’ll see you all later.” As I turned to leave I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me back.
“You’re not getting the train. Get happy to take you.” Steve said causing me to roll my eyes.
“Steve I’m not a child, I’m capable of getting a train. Plus, it’s not Happy’s job to chauffeur me around, he has tony for that.” I replied.
“Who has me for what?” Tony piped up walking in.
“Nothing, I have to go.” I said before once again turning to leave.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y call happy and tell him to get the car ready.” Tony said not looking up from his phone.
“Right away Mr Stark”
I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”
“Hey for once I agree with capsicle. We don’t need you dying on a train now do we?”
“I hate you.”
“Ouch my heart.”
It was starting to piss me off at how the were treating me. I get that they just wanted to look out for me, but it was just making me feel even more pathetic than I already did. I slumped down onto the sofa irritated. Suddenly I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Looking up I saw Nat leaning again the back of the sofa, looking down at me.
“I know it might feel like we’re being unfair or irrational, but we just want you to be safe. We need you.” I smiled slightly at her words.
“Thanks Nat.” She nodded at me before walking off.
“Miss Y/L/N. Happy is ready for you.”
“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y” I grabbed my stuff, yelling a quick goodbye to everyone before making my way downstairs and into the back of the black Mercedes parked outside the compound.
*******************************************************************
“Seriously did you have to dump him 2 weeks before you were due to leave? There’s so much crap here.” I groaned jokingly, sifting through the many papers laid out in front of me.
“It’s not my fault he was boring. I just couldn’t hack it anymore” Casey replied chuckling.
“Why did I agree to this?” I said leaning back in my chair.
“Because you love and care about me.” She said smiling at me
“Hmm that’s debatable.” I joked, causing her to swat my arm with the file she was holding. Thankfully, there was a small knock at the door that saved me from any further attacks.
“Excuse me Casey, boss man needs you in his office. He didn’t sound too happy.”
“Okay thanks, I’ll come now.” She replied. As she left the room she shot me an anxious look to which I responded a very supportive thumbs up. I know, I’m great.
*******************************************************************
I don’t know how long Casey had been gone but I’d suddenly began to feel a trickle of anxiety wash through my bones. I’d felt uneasy as soon as she’d left but I tried to push the feeling away and throw myself back into the paperwork. But every time I looked at the page, my eyes couldn’t focus. All the words were merging together in front of me.
“Please not now.” I mumbled to myself. I could feel my heart hammering a mile a minute against my ribcage as my hands began to shake uncontrollably. My throat felt as if it was collapsing in on itself as I tried my best to get oxygen into my lungs. I wanted to get up, to run outside, but I felt like if I moved I was going to be sick everywhere. So, I stayed there, trapped, with my head in my hands praying for this to be over. After what felt like a lifetime, the feeling began to dissipate – only to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of tiredness. Physically unable to hold myself up any longer, I let my head fall against the desk. I felt so drained, so weak I wasn’t sure how I would get home at this point. Where the hell was Casey?
---AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND(third person pov)---
“Mr Stark. You told me to alert you when Miss Y/L/N’s heart rate began to climb. It has rapidly increased over the past few minutes and does not appear to be settling” F.R.I.D.A.Y said. Tony rushed over to the screen that was currently displaying Y/N’s heart rate.
“Oh shit.” He said to himself, running his fingers through his hair. A moment later, Steve entered the lab.
“Everything alright stark?” He asked leaning against one of the desks.
“Not at all. Y/N’s having another panic attack right now.” Tony explained, visibly stressed.
“What?” Steve said standing up straight.
“I have to go get her.” Tony said pulling his jacket on. Before Steve could even reply, Tony headed for the door.
---BACK AT THE OFFICE(first person pov)---
I’d been able to prop my head up in my hands once again, but I was barely able to keep my eyes open. All I wanted was to go home. Suddenly I heard the door open.
“Oh my god Y/N. What happened? Are you okay?” Casey said rushing to my side, clearly noticing my dilemma.
“N-no” I stuttered. My voice came out as a sort of broken whisper. I’d never felt more drained. I heard the door open once more.
“Casey?-“
“Not now, I’m busy”
“No seriously-“
“Did you not hear me? Go away john”
“But Tony stark is looking for you.” He spat out. Relief spread throughout me at the mention of his name. Casey jumped up and ran out, soon retuning with Tony.
“Thank god” I breathed. Tony knelt down beside me in an instant.
“Hey you.” He said softly. “Let’s get you home okay?” He smiled at me sympathetically. I nodded and went to reach for my stuff.
“I’ll get that, put your jacket on.”
“Didn’t bring one.” I mumbled.
“Of course, you didn’t” He said sarcastically as he pulled his off and wrapped it around my shoulders. I slipped my arms in and hugged it tight to me, enjoying the heat it was providing.
“Come on then.” I felt Tony slip his arm around my waist as he pulled me to my feet. I wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders as the other fell by my side. “You okay?” He asked.
“Just get me home.” I whispered.
“Why do you think I’m here?” He joked. We made our way down the hall, tony taking the most of my weight.
“Thank you for coming.” I said as we got into the elevator.
“Anytime gorgeous.” He replied with his signature grin.
“How come you are here though? How did you know I needed you?” I asked.
“I have a sixth sense. Like peter, expect I sense panic attacks” he said chuckling.
“Seriously tony. I didn’t even call you.” I pressed. He fidgeted uncomfortably next to me.
“Okay don’t be mad at me. Because if you think about it if I hadn’t done it I wouldn’t have known you were freaking out and you’d probably still be stuck there, and I know that that’s the last thing you would want so technically I-“
“Just spit it out stark”
“I tracked you.”
I starred at him. “You tracked me?” He nodded sheepishly. “Wha- How?” I stuttered.
“You know I gave you that new watch? Well, I may have changed some things” He said avoiding my eyes.
“What things?”
“Well, I just made sure it would be able to give me your location. A-and if your heartrate reached a certain point, F.R.I.D.A.Y would let me know.” He explained. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t even mad, but I like the fact he thought I was. “Look before you have a go at me I just wanted to keep you safe.” I smiled at his words.
“I know. I’m not mad.”
“Oh, thank god.”
********************************************************************
The journey home was harmless. The fresh air had done me the world of good. Even those I was still worn out; I was feeling a lot more human. When we pulled up to the compound, Tony rushed to my side to open the door and help me stand.
“I’m okay tony you can relax now” I chuckled.
“I just don’t need you passing out on my watch, Steve won’t let me hear the end of it” He joked.
“Nice to know you care about me.” I replied. As soon as we walked in, I saw Steve talking anxiously with Nat and Wanda.
“Y/N thank god.” Nat rushed over to me, pulling me in for a hug.
“I’m alive guys false alarm.” I said light-heartedly, letting her go.
“Do you know why this keeps happening to you all of a sudden?” Wanda asked. Before I could answer she gasped slightly. “Oh…” Shit. I forgot she could read minds. She’d figured it out.
“What is it Wanda?” Steve asked. Wanda starred at me for a moment. I really didn’t know if she was going to tell them so I cut her off before she could.
“Casey was having an affair with her boss.” I blurted out, causing them all to look at me. “That’s why I went in with her today, she broke up with him and to get back at her he’s been giving her a shit ton of paperwork for no reason. While I was there he called her into his office, leaving me alone. I guess I was just so stressed about what they were talking about I worked myself up.” I lied. Wanda nodded in agreement with me, but the look she gave me made me think that this conversation definitely wasn’t over.
“Okay well I’m going to get this one into bed, see you guys later” Tony said coming up behind me, placing his hand on my back. We made our way up to my room where I promptly flopped onto my bed, gladly expecting the comfort it provided.
“Nope come on get up.” Tony said tugging my leg.
“What? I thought we came up here so I could sleep? I’ve had a long day tony.” I groaned.
“Yes but you need to change. I’m not having you sleep in jeans. The thought of it alone is enough to give me nightmares.” He replied, pulling me so I was sitting upright. “You stay there, don’t fall asleep.” He said before quickly dashing out of the room. I sighed, leaning back on my elbows. Tony was my best friend, sure, but that didn’t stop him being a massive pain in the arse. He soon returned, holding what looked like pyjamas.
“Why have you brought those? I have my own clothes you know.” “No shit sherlock. But I know that you like to wear these when your ill so I figured you might want some comfort after what happened today.” He said setting them down beside me. His words caused me to stare at him for a second. The genuine care in his voice was enough to make my stomach flip. The fact that he’d even thought of something like that caused a few tears to come to the surface.
“Stop starring at me, it’s creepy” He said with a chuckle. When he looked over at me, his face dropped. “Y/N? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He knelt down in front of me, taking my hand in his.
“I just- Thank you. For the clothes. The fact that you noticed that means the world to me.” I said softly, gazing at our hands.
“I always notice” He mumbled. I looked at him fondly, a strange feeling growing inside of me. We settled in a comfortable silence for a moment. For some reason, my view on tony shifted. That one gestured made my entire opinion of him change. I’d always known I cared for him deeply, more so than myself. And I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve been in love with him since I first met him, because that sure as hell isn’t the case. We’d been friends. Nothing more, nothing less. But now, seeing this side of him, maybe there was a possibility for us to be something more. Whatever that was we didn’t need to figure out right now. But I wanted him with me.
“I’ll leave you to get changed.” His voice snapped me from my thoughts as he dropped my hand from his.
“No, wait don’t go.” I said hurriedly going to pull him back.
“I’ll just be on the other side of the door.” He chuckled. I let him go and went about changing. He’d left me one of his old Metallica t shirts. It wasn’t too big for me, but big enough to be comfortable. I paired with a pair of basketball shorts I’d bought him a couple years ago for Christmas. Not that he actually played basketball, I just thought they were cool. I went over to the door and opened it, not expecting tony to fall back onto my feet. I laughed as he scrambled to stand up right.
“You could’ve knocked or something.” He said straightening his shirt.
“I didn’t expect you to be on the floor” I laughed.
“Whatever” He rolled his eyes, sitting at the edge of my bed. Once I’d calmed myself down, I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He moved so his arm was round my shoulder, allowing me to move closer.
“I like this.” I said softly.
“Like what?” “
This. Being with you.”
“So do I” He whispered.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the silence.
“No, you’re not falling asleep like this. Lie down” Tony said shrugging me off his shoulder. I didn’t even have the effort to argue as I slid back and pulled the covers over me.
“You’re coming to.” I stated, looking expectantly at him. He rolled his eyes before climbing in beside me. I curled into him, placing my head on his chest as I wrapped my arms around him. I felt him place his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. After the shit show I’d been through earlier, this was the exact peace I’d been craving. No matter where things went from here, Tony would always be my rock. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better.
#tony stank#tony stark#iron man#the avengers#natasha romanoff#tony x y/n#steve rogers#wanda maximoff#tony x reader
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
for the drabble prompt thing: smth abt how Sammy Lawrence became an ink person?
The Ink Machine is screaming.
He watches as gallons of pure black ink gush out of the nozzle of the thing, straining the floor black and covering up the patches of blood that had soaked into the wood. It had made this noise the last few tries, of course - at this point, Joey was almost used to it.
The problem was that the last few tries hadn’t exactly been successful.
The machine seems to shudder and lurch, and something huge and gooey and black slides out from the nozzle, leaving trails of half-solidified ink clinging to the metal. The machine’s noise steadies to a dull pulsing thud, and Joey finds himself holding his breath as he watches the mass.
“Boris?" He tries after a moment, waiting for a response. A cold sense of dread settles in his stomach as he continues to watch the ever-growing puddle, and he licks his dry lips nervously. “…Sammy?"
The mass of ink suddenly lurches forward, grabbing at the side of the machine for support. The excess ink rolls down as the thing slowly tapes shape - globs of ink slowly refining into five fingers, then four. Something resembling a head and shoulders forms and a now-recognizable arm grasps for one of the cogs on the machine to pull itself upward, white pants and suspenders forming out of the sticky black ink making up the figure.
Joey wheels towards it, leaning forward in his chair, heart racing. This is it. It had taken so many tries, so many employees, so many sacrifices and promises to the Gods that he would supply them with whatever they wished for as long as they helped him make his dream come true, the dream he'd give up anything to achieve. And now it was finally, finally happening.
And then the dream ends.
Boris - no, not Boris, not quite yet - lets out a sharp, choked gasp of pain as his body suddenly stops forming correctly, the area where his legs should have been forming too fast, too sloppily. For every part that’s trying to form, there’s another one melting away back into the puddle. There’s so much ink. Joey’s not sure how much ink is needed for this, pints or quarts or gallons, but there’s too much.
There had been… so many failures. So many attempts at bringing Bendy and friends to life. So many times where things had seemed almost perfect only to fall apart at the last minute, dissolving back into puddles, into faceless screaming things. He had thought he had figured out the perfect candidate this time - unlike the others, Sammy Lawrence and Boris’ shared a natural love for music, and that bond would help the two become one. It had to. He wasn't sure how many more failures he could take.
Joey can barely breathe as he wheels over to the machine, panic taking over his usually calm demeanor. He pulls the spout off of the back of the machine, then the box cutter from his back pocket, leaning against the ink container for stability. The blade makes an angry red slash across his palm and he closes it, allowing extra blood to roll off his hand and into the pitch black ink below. It's not much of a sacrifice, but it's better than nothing.
Please, just let this one wish come true.
Joey falls back into his chair, and the machine screeches, jolts, pumps out a fresh wave of thick black ink that coats the half-melted figure on the ground, then goes still. Joey realizes how tightly he's gripping his chair and he forces himself to relax his grip as the mass of ink on the ground slowly pulls itself - himself - forward until he's fully out of the puddle. Sammy collapses and Joey half expects him to melt away right there, but the form holds despite the ink dripping from it.
“Joey…" The voice is still Sammy’s all right, soft and deep and musical, but it’s tainted with pain and confusion. The former director weakly raises an arm out towards him, ink slowly dripping off of it and onto the floor. “What did... What did you... do… creator?"
He’s not Boris, not even close. But he’s stable, and solid, and can still speak and think and do something other than scream like the others. His wish came true.
And Joey finally relaxes and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
#bendy and the ink machine#batim#sammy lawrence#joey drew#tw: body horror#tw: self harm#Anonymous#ask#outdesign attempts to write#for every two mundane fics I write I must have at least one decently fucked up one it's the law#figured it would be best to jump straight into the machine itself and not deal with the violent precedent
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
52 Project #38: All We Wanna Do Is Eat Your Brains
Like “No Lullaby” at number 19 and “The Lake” at number 20, this is a songfic. Unlike those, the song itself -- Jonathan Coulton’s “Re: Your Brains” -- is comedic, so this is a comedy wrapped up in the skin of a horror story. Trigger warning for zombies, but no speaking characters get killed by zombies in this story.
-----
The fifth floor of the six-story Peaceful Pines Towne Centre shopping mall was entirely occupied by the business offices of the real estate company that owned and managed it, and many other similar shopping malls.
It was divided into two halves, the west side and the east side, with elevators in the center, and locked, heavy wooden doors between the two sides. At one point both of those doors had been unlocked. On the west side, there had been attractive, frosted glass doors leading to the reception area; those had been smashed. On the east side, there were security doors painted the same color as the wall. Those were locked, but could normally be opened with company badges. The system that allowed the badge locks to work had been unplugged, and the badge lock itself had been disconnected from the inside.
Once upon a time, the salespeople and the financial analysts and the C suite had all had offices or cubicles on the west side, and the IT people, engineers, and facilities management had all had offices or cubicles on the east side. HR had been on the west side, but right near the doors; all the people from that department were all on the east side now.
The bathrooms were in the hallway; the break room was on the west side, with the coffee machine, refrigerator and water cooler. On the east side there was nothing to support human life except air, the water cooler replacement jugs, and several packages of granola bars that one of the engineers had stashed in her desk.
The security cameras still worked, so it was quite possible to see, if you were looking at the monitor screens, a disheveled, pudgy man with short, straight dirty-blond hair, wearing a suit, with skin that was normally the pinkish-beige of a white guy but was now kind of grayish and also yellowish, standing in front of the security doors. “That you, Tom?” he said cheerfully.
“Uh, yeah?” The man on the east side of the security doors was tall and skinny, with black hair in a ponytail. He was also white, but had the kind of skin color which could maybe mean Greek, Southern Italian, Northern Middle East, or something like that, except that it hadn’t seen much sun in months, maybe years. It also had a bit of a sallow cast to it, but nowhere near as strong as the man on the other side of the doors.
“Hey there! It’s Bob, from down the hall. Good to see you, buddy! How’ve you been?”
“Uh… okay, I guess? Overall? Today hasn’t been great though…”
“Oh, I feel ya, buddy, I feel ya. Things were going okay for me, too, but now I’m a zombie!” Bob chuckled. “Isn’t it funny, the curveballs life throws you?”
“Uh, yeah. Funny. Hey, if you’re a zombie how come you can talk?”
On the monitors, they could see Zombie Bob shrug. “I’m no egghead. I’ll let the scientists figure that one out. But we’re not all dumb just because we’re zombies, you know. I’ve been the head of Strategic Marketing for two years now… oh, but I guess you know that!” Bob laughed. “I know, I know, we’re coworkers! I don’t have to explain my position to you.”
“Sounds like maybe a touch of memory loss, there, Bob,” Tom said.
“Nah, nah, I’ve just been meeting with so many new people today! This zombie thing, it’s really underrated. I know I was practically pissing my pants when I realized I’d been bitten, but now that I’m a zombie? Oh, I know I look kind of unhealthy, but actually I feel great! No pain, and I’m never gonna have to worry about dieting again! Yeah, I’m gonna miss French fries, but to be honest I was considering doing keto, and this is kind of like extreme keto, right?”
“But zombies eat people. Right?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course we do. Mostly brains, those are the best part. Hey, listen, Tom? Could you do me a solid here?”
“Uh… what do you want?”
“Ah, it’s not a big deal. I just need you to open up these doors so me and my new colleagues can come inside and eat your brains.”
Tom took several seconds to process this request. Finally he said, “Why, exactly, do you think we’d be willing to do that?”
“Hey, I know. It’s a big step, right? You just get a little bite, then you turn into a zombie and you live forever, long as you can keep eating, but we’re gonna be eating your brains, so you’re not gonna be turning into zombies. I can see why you’d be reluctant to do that.”
“Okay, so why did you ask?”
“Well, here’s the deal, Tom. You’re all gonna die screaming. It’s gonna happen. Maybe not this minute, but by the end of the day, it’s happening. So why put it off? Why put yourselves through the agony of anticipation? Just, you know, rip the bandaid off and get it over with.”
“Yeah, no. We’re not doing that.”
“Come on, I don’t think it’s unreasonable. All we wanna do is eat your brains. It’s not like anyone’s talking about eating your eyes here!” Bob laughed again. On the monitor, the elevator opened, and two more zombies came out. They began to scratch mindlessly at the security doors. “Hey, hey there, folks, we’re not getting through these bad boys unless they let us in. Save your fingernails and teeth for a softer target, okay?”
The zombies actually seemed to listen to him. They stepped back and stood quietly.
“I’m not sure you’ve fully thought this through, buddy,” Bob said in a genially condescending tone. “Don’t mean to nitpick here, but this isn’t much of a plan. I know you’ve got a few guns in there, and maybe you’ve got the extra water cooler jugs and the refills for the vending machine? But really, how long’s that gonna last? You haven’t even got a bathroom in there. Bet it’s getting pretty stinky.”
“We’ve got some supply closets over here , and some buckets. We’re getting by.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like you can open a window and let some air in, or dump your buckets! Those windows in there, they don’t open. I know! I kept sending memos to facilities, asking if I could get a window that opened, and it was always, no, none of the windows open, they’re not designed that way! Guess they didn’t want any of C-suite to be able to jump if commercial real estate tanked again.” Bob laughed.
Tom stepped away from the door for a moment, speaking quietly and urgently to Nishant, who was waiting for an update. “They don’t know about the windows,” he whispered to Nishant, who grinned briefly, and then ran back toward the IT manager’s office. It was Tom’s office, but it was on this side, with his department, rather than on the other side where all the other managers’ offices were.
He returned to the door to talk to Bob. “We’ll get by,” he said.
“Whoo-ee. Only thing I can smell anymore is tasty meat, but I tell you, I don’t envy you. Hey, why don’t we compromise? You open up the doors so you can dump your buckets, and then we all come inside and eat your brains.”
“That isn’t much of a compromise, Bob.”
“Sure, Tom, but have you thought through your alternatives? I mean, what’re you gonna do, spend the rest of your lives locked up in half the fifth floor of the shopping mall? Good enough for now, I suppose, and maybe you’ll get used to the stink, but sooner or later you’re gonna run out of food and ammo. Guess you’re gonna have to make a tough call then, huh?”
“I guess so,” Tom said.
“No, I don’t envy you at all. The way I see it, your options are, die of starvation, wait for us to break down the doors and eat your brains, or let us in, and at least the third option’s pretty quick.” He laughed again. “Though I’m gonna be honest here, Tom, I’m gonna eat you nice and slow.”
Tom sighed. “I have to say, Bob, I’m a tolerant guy but I’m really leery of this lifestyle choice of yours. I mean, eating brains? Have you ever considered not eating brains?”
“Well, I’ve considered it, but frankly they’re so goddamn tasty, who wouldn’t? I mean, if you guys manage to hold us off long enough, maybe it’ll come to the point where you have to eat each other, and then you’ll be eating your own brains. It’d be better to just get it out of the way quick, don’t you think?”
“I think we’ll manage.”
“I don’t think you’ve really thought things through, though. But that doesn’t really surprise me. You were always a detail-focused guy, never had much of a head for the big picture. Always trying to solve the problem of today, even if it causes problems tomorrow. But me, the big picture is what I do.”
Tom had heard this particular spiel before. “So what’s the big picture, then?” he asked, as behind him Ekaterina tapped him on the shoulder.
“The big picture here is that you’re gonna be dead one way or another. The whole human race is gonna go, Tom. And by the way, I don’t appreciate your comment about my ‘lifestyle.’ I’d be reporting you to HR, but I’m pretty sure all of HR is on your side of the doors.”
“Who’s on your side?”
Bob laughed. “Oh, wait, I got it! You’re mad at the comment I made about gay lifestyles a month ago! That was supposed to be a zinger, right?” He chuckled again. “Well, you’ll be pleased to hear I don’t care about any of that stuff anymore. You remember Kevin, right? The graphic designer?”
Kevin had been 23 and engaged to a boyfriend who was a guitarist in a band. “I remember him.”
“Well, now he’s one of us, and that’s all any of us care about. Gay, straight, white, black, it doesn’t matter once you’re a zombie. We’re all united together.”
“When you say ‘us’. Who’ve you got?”
“Well, right off the bat we got Horace. You would never imagine how delicious he was. You’d think all that fat on his gut would be a problem, but I’m here to tell you, he was exquisitely marbled.”
Horace had been the CEO. Tom shuddered, as he removed his pants and shirt, stripping down to his underwear. “I meant, who’s a zombie?”
“Well, honestly, most of the folks over here, we ate them. I got bit on my lunch hour, and after I turned, I led a bunch of folks from the mall up here. They’re good people, though, Tom. Really focused and dedicated. Hard workers.”
“Working hard at eating people.” Tom handed his clothes to Ekaterina, and she ran them back tto his office.
“Hey, it’s hard work to catch you guys. It’d be a lot easier if you’d just let us in.”
“Okay, break it down for me, Bob. What’s our ROI on letting you in? Where’s the win-win?”
“Sure thing! Now you’re speaking my language, Tom. I think it’s really great that you’re willing to work with me on this.” In the monitor, Bob smirked. “So here’s the deal. We’re all really hungry and we really want to eat your brains. You’re stuck in half a corporate office with nothing to eat and nowhere to go the bathroom. And no toilet paper! Man, that's gotta be rough. So what I’m suggesting is, you let us in, we eat your brains, you don’t have to live through any more of this bullcrap, and you don’t have to watch your families and loved ones get eaten. What do you say?”
Tom swallowed. The laser printed message in 48 pt font, on the paper Nishant was holding up, said “15 FT SHORT.”
“I can see you’ve got some good points there, Bob. But we actually don’t want to get eaten, so I think we’re gonna stick it out for now.”
“I sympathize with that, Tom. And I appreciate how you’re listening and considering my proposal. I’d really like to help you out, any way I can. What if I offer fast mercy killing? We don’t start eating you until you’re already dead, and we bludgeon you to death fast, no biting and tearing. How’s that?”
“Give me a minute to run that past some of my people,” Tom said, and walked over to Nishant. In an urgent whisper, he said, “You can’t find any more cloth?”
Nishant, who was naked except for Western-style underpants, shook his head. “The bras and underpants for everyone here wouldn’t get us the rest of the way, either,” he said. “It’d be different if we didn’t have to support Jason’s weight=”
“No one gets left behind, Nish.”
“I know, but that’s why we’ve had to make what amounts to five ropes in parallel instead of just one, because Jason’s arms are not strong enough to support 400 pounds.”
“Okay, and is anyone proposing a solution?”
“Xi said we should toss down cardboard boxes, but they won’t take his weight either.”
Tom sighed. “I can probably stall Bob for another five, ten minutes tops. You’re engineers. Figure it out or we’re dead.” A 15 foot drop wouldn’t kill most adult humans, but it might well render a lot of them unable to run afterwards, and in a zombie apocalypse, that’d essentially mean death. “Have we got confirmation on the helicopter?”
“They say it’s on its way,” Nishant whispered, shrugging.
“Okay. I’ll tie him up as long as I can.” Tom returned to the door. “Sorry, that’s a non starter. I’ve got a counter-proposal for you, though.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Bob said approvingly. “Hit me.”
“What if, and I’m spitballing here, you let half of us go, and you just eat the brains of half of us?”
On the monitor, Bob shook his head. “That’s not going to work for us, I’m afraid.”
“What about a quarter?”
“It’s logistics, Tom. There’s no way you get out of here except the stairs and the elevator, and they’re both overrun with zombies. I can’t control all the zombies in this mall, just my own people. You’re not getting to the bottom uneaten, and frankly, if someone’s going to eat you anyway, it should be me and my fellows. You can see my position on that, can’t you, Tom?”
“You could turn half of us into zombies, and eat the brains of the other half,” Tom suggested.
“No, afraid that’s not doable either,” Bob said.
“Mind filling me in on the decision process there?”
“No problem,” Bob said cheerfully. “We’re really hungry.”
“Huh. Well, I guess I can respect that, but that doesn’t get us past the hurdle that we don’t want to get eaten. You have any suggestions?”
“Sure, I can compromise a bit. I want to work this out with you, Tom. I’m not a monster.” He paused. “Wait. Technically, I guess I am. Huh. A horror movie monster.” On the monitor, he shrugged. “It doesn’t feel too different from normal!”
“I doubt most monsters think of themselves as monsters,” Tom pointed out.
“Hey, good point, good point.” Bob looked at his wrist, which did not have a watch on it. “Look, it seems like we’re at an impasse for the moment. I’ve got another meeting, so maybe we could wrap this up?”
“Well, we haven’t worked out a deal yet…”
Nishant came back. This time the 48 pt font on the paper he was holding up said “ROOF. JASON’S UP. REST OF US GOING.”
Tom nodded to acknowledge the message. He didn’t really want to know how his mostly nerdy and unathletic coworkers could have climbed to the roof in the first place, but it was only one story overhead, unlike the ground five stories below, so it was a good plan. He turned back to the door. “But if you have a meeting, I guess there’s no help for it.”
“Yeah, we’d better table this for now, sorry. We’ll come back to this. I know we can get to common ground, somehow. Just gotta work it out,” Bob said. “I need to report in to my colleagues who’re chewing on the doors. Real dedicated folks.”
“Sure, and I need to report to the engineers with the guns that that’s what they’re doing.”
“Hey, I appreciate you taking the time to hear me out! I know we’re all busy as hell, and time is the one thing we can’t get more of, right? Especially for you guys.”
“Not a problem, and I'm grateful for all the advice.”
“I’m glad you take constructive criticism well, “ Bob said, the genial condescension back. “Not everyone does. We’ll swing around to give another go at working things out later, and we’ll put this thing to bed when I bash your head open, all right?”
“Sure, if you don’t get a skull full of lead first.”
Bob laughed. “Man, Tom, you’re a funny guy! You should’ve done stand-up. See you later!”
As soon as he was gone, Tom ran for his office.
Bob seemed to have normal human intelligence despite being a zombie. As soon as Tom had realized that, he’d known he’d have to keep Bob distracted so the zombie couldn’t hear any of the sounds within, especially the sound of breaking glass. He was right that the windows weren’t designed to open… but that wasn’t much of a barrier for a dozen desperate engineers.(Well. Technically nine desperate engineers and IT personnel, and three desperate people from HR.)
It was a good thing Bob himself wasn’t an engineer, or he might have figured out what Tom had known, in a cold pit in his stomach, the whole time.
The security doors were nearly impenetrable. But the walls they were attached to were just standard drywall. And they didn’t even go all the way to the real ceiling – just to the drop ceiling where the wires were. So any zombie who knew that could climb up into the ceiling and then jump down. If zombies could keep their human intelligence, then it was just luck that only one of the engineers had been down at the food court earlier today when the zombies attacked, and he’d moved fast enough to escape.
The window in his office was shattered. There had been a heavy hammer in the facilities closet, and Alexey had managed to grab two guns and ammo from the Bass Pro store in the mall before coming up the freight elevator and getting in through the delivery door – which was, thankfully, on the east side. The glass on the fifth floor was thick, but between the hammer and a well-placed bullet, it had broken enough that they’d been able to smash the rest of it out.
Dangling just outside the window, where he could easily grab it and pull it inside, there was a cradle made of four ropes, where the ropes had been made by tying together scissored strips of everyone’s clothes. Tom stepped into the cradle, using the loops that had been tied onto the ropes to secure his wrists, and the straps on the bottom of the cradle to secure his legs. “Okay! I’m ready!” he yelled upward, and tugged on the cords.
His team pulled him up to the roof, with Nishant, Alexey, Xi and Timothy pulling on the ropes, and Jason sitting on the roof with the ends of the ropes tied behind him. Jason’s heart condition wouldn’t allow him to pull the ropes, but he could use his body as ballast to make sure none of the team fell. His face was pasty white, like there was no blood in his body, and he was breathing hard and sweating, but since Jason usually looked like that after any kind of minor exertion -- his heart was barely managing to do its job -- Tom wasn’t afraid he had turned.
Pete was holding one of Alexey’s two rifles. Ekaterina was unraveling the fifth rope and tying pieces of it around people’s waists and women’s chests, so they could have a tiny bit of modesty back.
“How did you guys manage to get to the roof?” Tom asked as he untied his straps and stepped out of the rope cradle.
“It was Ashley, actually,” Nishant said.
Ashley from HR was a petite woman, but in nothing but her bra and underpants, she was more muscular than Tom would have guessed. “ I do parkour and mountain climbing,” she said. “I’m not saying getting up here was fun, but you know, when the alternative is getting your brains eaten…”
In the distance he could see helicopters. “I know we contacted them already,” he said, “but let’s wave them down. Just to make sure.”
“We’ve got plenty of cloth to make flags,” Ekaterina said.
Tom wondered what Bob would think, when he and his zombies got the door open and found that they’d all gone through the window. The ropes had been pulled up, so he doubted that Bob’s first guess would be the roof… but Pete and Alexey were on guard with the guns, just in case.
Indrani, one of the programmers, leaned over the edge to see where they had come from. “Uh-oh,” she said. “They’ve found the window… looks like one of them is climbing out on the ledge.”
Alexey walked to the edge, cocked the rifle, and pointed downward. He fired. “Not anymore.”
They could all see the zombie fall. The shot hadn’t killed it – it was a chest shot, and they could see it flailing – but when it landed, a puddle of red appeared beneath it, including under its head, and it no longer moved.
“How much ammo have we got?” Tom asked.
“Enough to kill about 300 zombies, if every shot is perfect,” Alexey said.
“Which it’s not gonna be,” Pete added, somewhat unnecessarily. His brown hands were clenched so tightly on his rifle, the knuckles had turned white. “I’m… not the world’s best shot. I go to the range sometimes, get in a little bit of practice, but mostly I suck.”
“You’re probably better than most of us, though,” Tom said.
“I knew I should have gotten a shotgun,” Alexey complained. “At close range the rifle is almost useless.”
“You were under time pressure,” Ekaterina said. “If I’d been in the food court when a zombie turned and started biting people, I don’t think I would have been able to think clearly enough to go to the end of the mall and get a gun from the Bass Pro. Let alone two, and ammunition.”
“I think I see Bob down there,” Indrani said. “He’s… what is he doing?”
“Don’t fall off the side!” Timothy went to his knees rapidly, ready to grab Indrani’s ankles.
“I won’t. What are they doing?”
Rachel from HR peered off the side from a different vantage point on the left of the broken window. “They’re forming a human chain. Well, a zombie chain. One’s climbing on top of another and they’re holding onto each other.”
“That’s not good,” Pete said. “Alexey, you need help there?”
“No, stay covering the door to the roof.” It was chained and padlocked shut and the door was a metal security door, but who knew what would happen if enough zombies banged into it. Alexey took aim, and shot the bottom zombie of what was now a three-zombie human ladder, and all three fell. One managed to grab a ledge; the other two fell to the ground. One stopped moving; the other crawled feebly, her arms and legs obviously broken.
Tom looked up at the helicopter coming toward them. It had a rescue basket, large enough to fit all twelve of them. Twelve. The company had been thirty-three people this morning. He thought maybe one of the sales guys had been out in the field on a call, and the regular receptionist had been out sick, so… thirty-one people in the office had turned into twelve survivors. Plus some that had become zombies, like Bob.
A phone rang. Everyone looked at Donatella, the third of the refugees from HR. She was as underdressed as the rest of them, but she had a purse on her, made of a crunchy plasticky recycled material that no one had thought would hold up to the stress of being part of their escape ropes. The phone was ringing from inside it.
Donatella withdrew the phone, her hand shaking, and answered it. “Rose and Weldon Company, this is Donatella Antonucci, can I help you?” She listened for a moment. “Why don’t I put you on speaker?” And looked up at Tom. “It’s for you, do you want it on speaker?”
“Is it Bob?”
Donatella nodded. Tom rolled his eyes. “Fine. Put him on.”
“Hey there, Tommy boy! You there? It’s me, Bob, again.”
“Yes, Bob, I’m here,” Tom sighed. “No, we’re not going to let you in to eat our brains.”
“Yeah, I can see that you’re on the roof,” Bob said. “Who’s that with the gun? That Russian dude? Ilya or something?”
“His name’s Alexey, and yes.”
“He’s good,” Bob said approvingly. “But listen, Tom, it’s not too late to open up the door on the roof and let us in. We’re in the stairwell.”
“Then who’s trying to form human chains down there?”
“The correct word is ‘zombie,’ Tom, not ‘human’. Please don’t misattribute our species.”
“Okay, fine, who—”
“That’s Barry from Sales. You remember Barry, right? Always bragging about his workouts and his gym routines and the times on his runs? Well, turns out he wasn’t all hot air. I thought he got away from us – he sprinted off when we almost had him, and he was too fast for any of us to follow. But then an hour later he came back and joined us, because one of us had landed a bite and turned him. Isn’t that cool?”
“It’s really not as cool as—”
“I sure think it’s cool.”
“Bob, I’m a busy man, please get to the point.”
“Sure, Tom. I know your time is valuable, I don’t want to waste it. It’s just that you should know, Barry’s a talker, like me, so he has our colleagues doing the zombie ladder thing there, and I’ve taken us up to the roof, and I’m pretty sure we’re gonna manage to knock this door down sooner or later.” There was a “thump” from the chained, padlocked roof door. “So I’m just offering it up as an option here, you might want to consider just letting us come outside and eat your brains.”
The helicopter was getting larger, but the closer it got, it seemed the slower it was coming. “I imagine you could do that,” Tom said. “How many zombies you got in there?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“No real reason,” Tom said. “Just, we’ve got a pretty defensible position here and a lot of ammo.”
“That’s good to hear. Makes it challenging. A good workout before dinner always makes the meal tastier, isn’t that what they say?”
“Actually they say you shouldn’t eat until half an hour after working out…”
“Pretty sure that’s a myth, Tom. But you could Google it on Donnie’s phone. I know you don’t have one of your own, I found it ringing in your office when I tried to call you.”
“So what’d you do, wardial numbers until you hit one that rang?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I probably should have thought of one of the HR ladies first, since I know they got over to your side before you closed the doors. By the way, Bart? In sales? You know, the guy who didn’t make it to the door before you shut and locked it? Dee-lish. Appreciate you leaving him for us.”
“Bob, have I ever told you what an asshole you are?”
“That’s really not professional language, Tom.”
“I know, but I’m standing here in my underpants and you want to eat my brains, so I’m not feeling very professional. I have a counter-proposal for you, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I think you guys should strongly consider the merits of eating shit and then dying. Especially you. After fucking off so long and so far there’s no longer any off to fuck. And also going to hell, straight to hell, without passing Go or collecting 200 dollars.”
Bob laughed. “Man, you’re funny, Tom! I’m gonna miss these little chats after I crack that skull of yours like a steamed mussel shell and scoop out the brainy goodness inside.”
Another “thump” from the stairwell. Alexey shot another zombie chain, sending three more of them falling. “This is fun,” Alexey said. “Tell Bob I’m looking forward to blowing his head off. I want to see if he still has red blood or if it’s turned green like some of these guys.”
“I heard that fine,” Bob said. “Is that Alexey? I’ve always liked Russian food.”
“Were you this big of a clueless narcissist when you were alive, or is this just a zombie thing?” Tom asked.
“Oh, come on, Tom, I thought we had a rapport. I thought we were making some progress, working on this thing together.”
“Bob, when you and I worked together on identifying cities whose legislature might be open to letting us build a new Towne Centre shopping mall in their town, we had a rapport and we made progress. You really wanting to eat our brains is just not our problem and I don’t feel obligated to help you with that.”
“Yeah, what do you guys even do for the company?” Bob snarked. “We’re not an IT company, we don’t write programs. We develop and sell commercial real estate. All we ever needed was one dude to hook up our PCs to the Internet. We didn’t even need servers, we could have kept it all in the cloud.”
“We did keep it all in the cloud, Bob. We haven’t had servers in about five years.”
“So what did your department even do? How did you justify your salaries?”
“Among other things, your database marketing plans wouldn’t have gone very far if we hadn’t been maintaining the database… but that isn’t even the point.” The thumps and the sounds of the shots had grown more frequent, and the chain, somewhat rusty, was actually rattling hard. It was entirely possible that if Bob and his zombies just kept throwing themselves at the door, it would break open.
Again, not the engineers’ solution. But Bob, and Barry for that matter, seemed to have retained their normal human intelligence… not gained any intelligence. Bob hadn’t thought of makeshift explosives yet. Or shoving a long heavy-duty file into the crack and filing away at the chain. Or anything else that might work.
“I can’t hear you very well, Tom, what’s going on out there? Sounds like you’re standing right next to the air conditioner, or a generator?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bob, maybe it’s the line on your end,” Tom lied as the helicopter, finally above them, lowered its rescue basket. It was hard to hear Bob through the “whup-whup-whup” of the helicopter blades, but Tom made the effort to talk normally, rather than shout into the phone as instinct told him to do.
“What?”
“I said maybe it’s the line on your end,” Tom said, as rescuers directed Jason to sit in the exact center of the basket, and then had the rest of them spread out by estimated weight, to balance the load.
“What? I can’t hear you at all, Tom, what’s going on?”
Very loudly, because now he was in the basket and standing right under the helicopter and its whups, Tom yelled, “What’s going on, Bob, is fuck you!”
He hung up on the zombie and handed Donatella back her phone as the helicopter climbed, pulling the rescue basket into the air. “Block him.”
There was another human chain of zombies forming, now that Alexey was no longer in a good position to shoot them down. Tom, on the edge of the basket facing the building, stuck his middle finger up and leaned out as far over the edge of the basket as he dared, making the gesture at Barry and his zombie ladder as broadly and visibly as he could.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mama Fortuna
C-04: Moving Day, and A Human’s Best Friend
Note: I am not a scientist. I just googled some things and started writing. I’m going to take some artistic liberties here.
P.S.: Superman lied to us.
~*~
Explaining to movers what the hell your “coffee machine from hell” is, is a harrowing experience, let me tell you. It was necessary, though. There was no way I would be able to lift that thing by myself.
I think back to the making the machine, and the aftermath. Creating that machine took all the strength in me, as well as most of my kitchen appliances. It also scared the heck out of my children.
=
My eyes flutter open as I come to wakefulness on the ground. The first thing I see and hear are Sunshine and Ellie chittering, chirring, and beeping above me. Their bright green optics are trained on my face as they worriedly shake me. Seeing me awake, they stop making noise for a couple seconds before assaulting me with a barrage of “Mama” and “Ok?”
“Sorry for worrying you. I’m okay. I’m just really tired, so mama is going to bed early, okay?”
Sunshine jumps to my shoulder as I heave my tired body off the ground. Ellie grasps my pant leg asking to be picked up, which I do.
=
So, to catch you up, apparently my little stunt with the machine knocked out all power for not only my house, but the whole block. Eventually the problem was fixed by everyone resetting their breakers, but the “mysterious power outage” was raising questions.
I’m not sure if Samantha was ever a paranoid person, but I sure am. I need room to work, and this little house in the middle of a populated suburb in the city is not smart if I want to remain unnoticed. Thus, moving… and worrying. My babies are not used to foreign people in their home, or the idea of their safe space no longer being theirs.
I have a feeling we will be doing this a lot more, though. Imagine the kinds of people that would love to have their hands on me and my children. I shudder. No, I imagine we’ll be moving a lot.
Eventually the movers and I get into our moving trucks and head out.
We drive quite a way into the country side. I don’t really have the money or resources to move too far at a time, so we are moving to an old farmhouse that is a couple hours away from our first home. It’s a half hour’s drive from the nearest town, so we should be good for experimenting. Samantha, apparently, has savings built up over the years, but it would be too easy to squander. Considering I do not have a job and don’t know whether I would be getting one anytime soon, I have to take into account the cost of food and rent.
~*~
“Thank you so much. Safe trip back, yeah?”
“Will do. Have a good evening.”
“Have a good evening.”
The movers leave, and I don’t stop watching until they’re long gone out of sight. I let out a relieved sigh, and head back indoors. The ‘coffee machine’ as I have been calling it could have been brought indoors (if barely), but after sparing a thought of the potential danger it posed, it went into the garage. By now, it has been 2 and a half hours since we left, and I was already tired.
I wanted to make sure we had some place to sleep tonight, at the very least, so that meant reassembling the metal structure that was my berth.
Bed. I mean bed. I shake my head at the mistake. Wow, I must be really tired.
~*~
Later that evening, I’m tucking my children into bed. I know they’ve been having trouble with the move. All throughout setting up the bed, they wouldn’t leave my side, not even when I suggested they watch some videos on the internet! They love YouTube.
It makes me sad that the new environment just didn’t feel ‘safe’ to them. I would have to find out a way to make them feel safer. Maybe talking with them about how to deal with strangers would be a start. I could also see if I could set up some kind of security system. It would be a bit hard when we keep moving, but it would be worth the time.
Giving my little ‘spider’ a kiss, I giggle at the soft chittering they respond with. Cute.
“Rest, Sunshine. You’re safe.”
Seeking comfort, Ellie reaches up from under the covers. I turn and gently hug them and give them a kiss as well.
“I’ll protect you, Ellie. You’re safe.”
I tuck them tightly under the electric blanket.
They prefer my body warmth, but being human, I tend to move in my sleep, and hog the blankets, so it’s better for them to cuddle under the warmer blanket instead.
~*~
I wake up the next day, have some instant coffee (my kettle survived the making of the last machine, thankfully) and prepare myself for the other coffee machine I have been unconsciously avoiding. It doesn’t look very impressive, quite scary really, but considering what it is meant to do… I have to face it sooner or later.
Last night’s dream showed me bits and pieces of what the mysterious ‘coffee’ should look like. I realized I would need a vessel that would not melt in contact with the liquid, or otherwise have them drink straight from the nozzle.
Unfortunately, I have no idea what kind of vessel that would be. The dreams and visions tend to not be very specific. I saw the ‘coffee’ in all sorts of forms in my dream: gas, crystal, raw energy, or liquid. Because of the nozzle on the machine, I assume it’ll come out as a liquid. Nursing my coffee, I mentally list the resources I have available to me:
Plastic. No.
Glass. No.
Aluminum. Probably not.
Unmolded, leftover steel… Unknown.
Well, to be honest, most of the machine is made of steel or the elements that make up steel. Iron, carbon… Steel has a higher melting point than aluminum, anyway. The problem with this idea, however, was that I would need to use my power to mold it.
Feeling my anxiety rise, I chug the rest of my shitty coffee. Just because I have it, doesn’t mean I like it. I think that applies well to my main problem, too. I sigh. I would try. I like the idea better than forcing an uncontrolled amount of liquid down my babies’ throats.
~*~
While searching the property, I find a bag of coal in a shed. I bring it to the garage.
~*~
Staring at my collection of metal and coal in a pile over the concrete, I start to have doubts.
I can do this, I reassure myself, steel thyself. Ha.
I put my hands over the pile and concentrate. Thinking back to how long it took to make the machine, I’m not prepared for the quick whirlwind of materials that leave me with a couple shiny tanks of some glassy material and steel, as well as a mush of unknown material that is both hardening and oozing beside them. Ugh. That doesn’t look safe… Wait, is that shiny stuff…
I lean forward to take a closer look, gaping widely.
I was expecting something shoddy, considering how fast it formed… But this, this…
I would never expect that I could make diamond! For example, coal has carbon in it, but it also has a lot of other elements, as well as organic material. I think it’s too impure to simply add pressure and form diamond.
It used all the coal I brought to the garage, but the tanks have a thin layer of diamond reinforcing the inside of the steel tanks. Now, the tanks themselves aren’t very big… but neither are my babies. So maybe it’ll be alright.
Grabbing the newly created vessels, I spare a thought for the oozing mess beside me. Feeling a little more confident in my abilities, I focus on burying the mess. Tapping the ground with my foot, I watch as the ground ripples like water and swallows the mess whole.
… I’m sure it’ll be fine. Probably.
~*~
Feeding my children takes a bit of experimenting, but I figure out where the battery is, and how to charge it. Simply placing my hand where the ‘battery’ is and focusing is enough to charge it. I stop charging as soon as I notice the machine running; it seems there’s no on-off switch.
I take out the mask and thick gloves. Better safe than sorry.
Taking a breath, I fill up the tanks. The liquid itself isn’t… quite how I remember from the dream, but it’s close enough that I can quiet the doubt circling in my mind. Maybe it’s not as pure as the ‘coffee’ in my dream, but I pray that it’s enough. It has to be for my children.
After talking with them, I decide to give a tiny amount to Sunshine as a test. We’ll give it a day and see what effects it has.
~*~
The next day, Sunshine is a bit more chatty than usual. They run us ragged as they bounce around the room on their multiple legs. In contrast, I notice Ellie becoming more sluggish, and frown in worry. Ellie has never slumped like that after a play session… I don’t think I have any real choice anymore.
Worried about the impurity of the ‘coffee’, I feed small amounts to both Sunshine and Ellie over the next few days, until they seem to be at good health.
~*~
I can make diamond, I will realize many days later, and all the implications that it brings.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Please Don’t Leave {Eijirou Kirishima}
A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I tried something a little different with this story and having included a character we don’t know very much about was challenging. Writing this piece was interesting to say the least lol. This was partially inspired by the book/movie “If I Stay” and if you haven’t read/seen it I def recommend!
The silence was strange. Maybe it was just because it was there. Living with nineteen other teenagers could seem deafening at the best of times and quiet moments were rare. Her body felt strange too though, like she both could and couldn’t feel. One minute she felt weightless, comfortable like she was lying on a giant pillow, and the next she could feel a deep, pulsating throb in her head.
When the pain disappeared is when she opened her eyes to see grey all around her. It was dull and seemingly endless, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.
“Man, it’s gonna be nice to have someone to talk to!”
She jumped at the energetic words, blinking rapidly as she fought the sluggishness of her body to sit up. Below her she noticed what sort of did look like a large white pillow but also the smiling boy floating at her side.
He was tall and his fluffy light blue hair made him look even taller which may have felt intimidating if his blue eyes weren’t so friendly as they stared at her from above a white strip across the bridge of his nose. A blue aviator hat and goggles were visible below his hair and he wore a dark blue gi beneath a brown aviator jacket, dust and dirt clinging to the material.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Where are we, and why is everything grey? Are you sitting on a cloud? Wait, am I?”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’s my quirk! I like to ride on them and when you started to appear I could tell you weren’t awake so I made you a cloud bed!”
“How—? Where—?”
“Oh, sure, sorry,” he said quickly. “I dunno where exactly we are but I’ve always called it ‘the in-between’ because we’re between life and death which explains the grey but probably sounds really scary and uh, it is? But at least we have each other! My name’s Oboro Shirakumo!”
She tried to process his rapid-fire words but the only thing she completely understood was his name.
In-between life and death? Why was she seemingly dying? What had happened? She couldn’t remember anything happening to put her life at risk, at least not lately.
“You look really confused and I get that, I feel bad having to give you such heavy news and you probably don’t remember much. I was the same way when I got here, but after a while you should be able to remember and it’ll all come back…” he trailed off, and when she realized the expectant look she said her name. He smiled and repeated it before continuing, “You’ll figure out what led you here.”
“Can I ask what led you here?” she asked quietly when silence stretched between them.
He smiled sadly. “I am—or I guess was?—a hero course student and a villain attack didn’t exactly go my way. Managed to save a class of schoolkids though, and my friend took out the villain all on his own. I’m guessing by your costume you’re probably in a hero course too.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine being alone for so long after all of that. You’re right that I’m a hero course student and my class has been through a lot, but we’ve always been together afterwards.”
“Well, I really don’t know if it’s been long,” he replied thoughtfully. “Time is strange here and being alone definitely doesn’t help. You know how you feel after a really good nap? Like you don’t even know if its day or night or if you were asleep for two hours or two years? That’s sort of how it feels being here.”
“January 8th is the last day I remember seeing on my lock screen,” she mumbled. “I saw it when I woke up and started getting ready for my work study. If something happened on patrol…”
“Not to interrupt but uhm, January 8th of what year?” he asked, eyes bugging when she answered. “There’s no way.”
“What, is it a long time after your villain attack?”
“Yeah. Fifteen years.”
Her eyes widened too. “You’ve been here for fifteen years by yourself?!”
He opened his mouth to reply but she couldn’t hear if he actually did, the searing pain in her skull returning as her hands flew to the back of her head. She pitched forward as tears gathered in her eyes and she cried out in pain.
Darkness surrounded her and from the heavy feeling of her eyelids she knew they were closed. She felt like she was floating again but this time she could hear voices, garbled and far away. She understood snippets but couldn’t follow the conversation and she couldn’t tell who was saying what.
“…brain… body can try…”
“Stop crying…”
“…class soon… you’ll… without you…”
“…another way! Someone…”
The pain was so much more intense even as she laid still, but then the blackness consumed her and the pain was gone.
Shirakumo’s hair was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes and was back in the in-between. Still disoriented, she could see that his mouth was open in surprise.
“What just happened?!” she asked, panic bubbling in her chest. “It hurt and I could hear people but I don’t—it was dark.”
“I think you tipped back towards life,” he murmured. “Whatever you heard, do you remember much? Sometimes it helps figure out what’s going on wherever your body is.”
She sniffled, wiping tears from her cheeks with her wrist. “I heard someone talking about a brain, I think? And a body trying to do something but I don’t know what. Do you think they mean me? My brain, my body?”
“Probably,” he said softly. “It can be really hard to hear things when your spirit leans back to life. Sometimes I remember things I never actually saw or heard. The memory itself is hazy, like there’s a dark mist over it so I can’t see much, but I can make out certain words or bits of conversation if I try hard enough.”
“There were other people though, saying to stop crying and asking for another way. I feel like I should know the voices.”
“The more you tip towards life the clearer it is, I think,” he shrugged. “All we can do is hope you move closer to waking up.”
She nodded, lying back on her cloud. If she was hurt badly enough to be suspended between life and death that meant her class was probably going out of their minds, her boyfriend most of all. Maybe he was there speaking to her, maybe he was one of the voices she heard. If he was she could only imagine he was asking for her to wake up. Kirishima was always a beacon of hope, one she was more than happy to follow and prayed would guide her through this too.
He didn’t mind hospitals for the most part, but long hours spent in various ones throughout the country in less than a year didn’t put them on his list of favorite things either. The waiting he had been doing for the last six days in an uncomfortable visitor’s chair was driving him mad and the lack of significant progress in his girlfriend’s condition was even worse.
Sure, she was in the best possible place for treatment and was monitored around the clock but she wasn’t awake. She wasn’t talking to him or poking his nose or kissing his cheek; she was just lying there in the hospital bed looking as if she was going to be swallowed by machines and wires. At least she could breathe on her own and there were no tubes down her throat—he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to handle seeing that.
But still he sat by her bedside any chance he got. After classes ended for the day he took the train straight there, his uniform still on and bag carelessly left in the classroom at his desk. The bag always made its way to him though.
“Kirishima I swear if you don’t start bringing your shit with you you’re giving me money for the train to and from this place. Do your homework while you sit here,” Bakugo snapped at him like every other afternoon as the bag was dropped at his feet.
With a sigh he dug through his bag to find his assignments and opened his notes to work through the homework sheets because he was right, he needed to keep up with schoolwork. He had to be able to help her when she woke up, right?
“Oi, don’t start starin’ into space!”
“I’m not! I’m not, I’m just… this is hard, you know?” he said quietly. “I’ve never gone so long without talking to her and I miss her. She’s right in front of me but I miss her.”
Bakugo scowled. “No one ever said you should be smiling at the fact that your girlfriend had her head scrambled, hair for brains. This is the type of shit we have to deal with if we’re gonna be heroes but that doesn’t mean time stops for you to mope. Besides, didn’t the doctors say she’s doing better?”
“Yeah, they said the swelling’s gone down to the point where it’s really hard to see on the scans so that’s good. But they also mentioned that she’s still low on this coma scale thing, like she’s a six which is just one up from critical. Her only response is to pain and—"
“Tch, you’re just impatient. She’s gonna be fine once her body’s healed enough to wake up. Then the old lady’s gonna kiss her and shit’ll be back to normal.”
“I—
—really, really hope you’re right.”
“’Course I’m right, you idiot.”
The pain was still there but more a dull ache than before. It let her focus on the voices and she knew them, she knew her boyfriend and his best friend were there with her. She wondered what Bakugo should be right about. He probably was, whatever it is.
Her time in the in-between wasn’t terrible because Shirakumo was good company but she did look forward to the moments when everything went dark and she could hear everyone around her body. She heard her parents and boyfriend most often but her friends were there sometimes too. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she was awake, but she hoped she could open her eyes soon.
“You smile a lot when you snap back from tipping,” Shirakumo observed. He was sat on one of his clouds, elbow on his knee and chin in his hand.
“I hear my boyfriend,” she said with a grin. “It’s just really good to hear his voice, you know?”
“That’s nice,” he said quietly.
She furrowed her brows. “I know you haven’t since I’ve been here but don’t you tip towards life sometimes too? Don’t you hear your family? Your friends?”
“Nah, I don’t know anyone who’s speaking around me. Never recognize what I see through the haze either,” he explained. “I don’t know exactly what that means since it seems like with you, you hear what’s being said to your body. I rarely tip towards life anymore but when I do it’s like I’m on autopilot or something. It’s probably just a dream.”
“Well what do you hear or see?”
“Once I was in a hospital I think but that’s all I can remember, no voices and all I saw was darkness,” he said thoughtfully. “Another time I was in a dome, like a stadium almost. There was a lot of yelling and mostly I can remember shapes and colors. Black and red, green and orange, some white spots in the corner of my eye. Loud bangs like firecrackers were the last thing I heard before tipping back to the in-between.”
She listened intently, the details he described vague but familiar though she didn’t know exactly why.
“Other than those it’s just whispers while I’m in a black fog. It’s just snippets like I mentioned. A word or two here and there.”
“But never your family or friends?” she repeated.
“No, but I can’t really expect that if it’s been fifteen years, huh? My family had my little siblings to look after and my friends—well they’ve gotta be hotshot heroes by now. We wanted to start our own agency together, and I hope they did even without me. The dream shouldn’t die just because I did.”
“What were they like?”
“What’s your boyfriend like?” he teased.
“I asked first!”
“I’m older, respect your elders.”
She let out an exasperated sigh but smiled nonetheless. “His name is Eijirou Kirishima and he’s… he’s like a bright light in the dark. He’s brave even when he’s afraid and he wants to help people because it’s the right thing to do. He’s in the hero course with me and… shit, I miss him.”
“Bet he misses you too,” he said with a soft smile. “He sounds like a good guy, and I hope you can see him again soon.”
“Me too,” she whispered, then after a moment reminded him, “Your turn.”
“Ah well, my buddies were kinda opposite of each other—one loud and energetic, always the center of attention and the other quiet and introverted, sometimes had a tough time believing in himself. But they were both gonna be great heroes! All of Japan was going to know Present Mic and Eras—”
“—erhead,” she finished breathlessly, and Shirakumo grinned.
It had been eleven days since the villain attack that had put her in the hospital and Kirishima still saw her head slamming into the concrete siding of the office building so clearly it may as well have been playing out in front of him all over again. In reality she was extremely lucky that her skull hadn’t been cracked wide open, the only fractures being in her left arm from twisting awkwardly as her body met the building.
Her arm would be easy to heal thanks to Recovery Girl, but the head injury was more delicate and what really needed resolved first. It would take time for her body to recuperate which was the reason she’d fallen comatose; they’d been told that her body was pausing everything else so the damage could be repaired. Once that damage could be taken care of then the other injuries could be tended to. It wasn’t likely to last more than a few weeks but to Kirishima even a few hours seemed like an eternity.
Yet each day after class and on the weekends he waited that eternity, had done it eleven times over. It was difficult—near impossible—to make him leave even for a quick dinner in the hospital’s cafeteria which meant only one person could convince him, and he made sure to do so as crudely as possible.
“Do you fuckin’ think she’s gonna be happy waking up to your stomach growling at her like a goddamn beast? Get your ass some food. If you’re back in under half an hour I’m exploding your ugly fuckin’ face. She won’t recognize you and neither will your shitty mothers.”
It was tiresome to endure the constant yelling but it was true, he needed to eat. “Okay, okay, I’m going. But just make sure—”
“If she wakes up I call the nurse, then you, then her family, then your mothers, then the media, then go fuck myself, I know,” Bakugo finished as his eye twitched. “Get your fucking food, asshole.”
With a defeated sigh the redhead left the room, a glance over his shoulder lingering on his sleeping girlfriend for just a moment as he stepped out into the bright hallway. He let his mind wander as he walked. After eleven days he didn’t need to think of how to get to the cafeteria, his feet knew where to take him.
Bakugo sat back in the visitor’s chair Kirishima had been using as a table for his homework, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. He didn’t hate silence despite what many probably assumed, but this was he sort of quiet that was eerie and uncomfortable because of the circumstances.
“Wake the fuck up.”
Slow, even breaths were his answer.
“What, you embarrassed that you got thrown like a long dart into the side of an accounting firm of all things? Almost couldn’t blame you if that’s why you’re just laying here.”
Nothing.
“I know you can hear me. Know you can hear Kirishima too since—
—he never shuts the hell up. Probably heard him cryin’ over you too, huh?”
A steady heartbeat and no pain in her head, she breathed in deeply at Bakugo’s words. Of course she’d heard him, the few other times she had come back to her body clearer each time. Her heart broke to hear what she knew were quiet sobs and soared when he would relay the absurdity the class had gotten up to that day.
“It’s your fault he’s upset.”
She hated that he was right.
“Your tests n’shit say you should be wakin’ up any time now. They told him that two days ago and he’s holding on to that but here you are, not even putting up a fight to get back to him. The hell’s that about?”
It… she was trying. But it wasn’t easy when her body felt like it was tied to concrete at the bottom of the ocean and couldn’t possibly surface. She just wasn’t strong enough yet, that’s all. Tipping towards life was lasting longer and longer each time and soon she’d be at the point where she never went back to the in-between. It was just taking time.
“After you blacked out he froze. In the middle of a goddamn villain attack downtown he froze. It was only a few seconds but it coulda cost him, you know that. Then I’d have both of you idiots here probably,” he huffed.
Was that fondness?
“He kept fighting though. He fought until we won but I know he doesn’t think it’s a victory. If he can fight, why can’t you?”
That was the question wasn’t it?
“You better start fighting your ass off to open your eyes. Naptime’s over.”
She hadn’t tipped again since hearing Bakugo’s scolding guilt trip to wake up and while time seemingly didn’t exist in the in-between she felt like days, weeks, months, possibly years had gone by. It was terrifying enough to know that Shirakumo had been there alone for over a decade and never realized it but what if that happened to her too? What if Shirakumo tipped back to life and woke up to resume living or even took the final step towards death? Then she would be alone in the infinite grey abyss with only her thoughts.
What if she never tipped back to life again? She wouldn’t hear a goodbye or say one herself to anyone—not her parents, not her friends, not to the boyfriend who’s kept vigil for what had to have been two weeks by then at least.
“I know you’re scared.”
She looked up to see Shirakumo watching her with an unreadable expression.
“It’s okay to be, you know? This place is like the perfect definition of uncertainty, but you said that last time you heard that you should be waking up soon right?”
“That’s what Bakugo said,” she murmured, staring down at her hands. “But I haven’t tipped since then and now I don’t know if I will again.”
“You don’t feel it at all?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t heard anything.”
“Ah no, I mean you’re… when you go closer to life you look different to me. Like you’re… smudged?”
She stared at him.
“So I see you,” he tried to explain, “but then it’s almost like you’ve got a shadow around you? It—okay, you know how when you draw with an oil pastel you can blend it out? When you tip towards life you look like that.”
“Alright, but what does that have to do with anything right now? I’m not going towards life.”
He gave a weak smile. “Yeah you are. You’ve been smudged since you last heard your friend. It was faint at first but its lingered and now you’re sort of fading out. I think… I think that means you’re waking up.”
“How can I be waking up if I’m not hearing anything there? I’ve been with you this entire time!”
“I don’t know, I’m just guessing! It’s a good thing if I’m right, it means you’ll get to see your boyfriend and your friends and your family.”
“I just… I don’t want to hope and then it be for nothing,” she whispered. “Of course I want to wake up but that’s all I’ve wanted this entire time and I just don’t know how and it’s awful to know I’m causing all of them to worry over me and hope for something that may not happen.”
“Hey I get it, okay? It’s hard knowing that everyone there wants you back but you don’t know how to get to them. But heroes don’t get to lose hope. You can have your moments of weakness but you should never lose hope that it’s going to get better.”
She turned away from him, lip bitten between her teeth. Of course he was right—as heroes they couldn’t lose hope when they were the ones who brought hope to the hopeless in the times they needed it the most. But that also begged the question of how they kept that hope. Who inspired them in the darkest times?
It was an obvious answer once she shed the cynicism: family, friends, loved ones, the people they would fight the hardest for. Her family, her friends, her class, her boyfriend. They had hope for her to wake up and when they spoke to her they were keeping that hope alive.
“It’s okay to be upset,” Shirakumo said softly as he watched a tear make its way down her face. “But you’re gonna wake up, I know it. Just… take a deep breath and we can talk about something else.”
“Okay,” she whispered, turning back to him as she sucked in a breath and let her eyes fall closed.
He watched with a smile as her faded form grew even more faint, then disappear completely as she let out the breath.
The darkness was back. It enveloped her like always but there was no pain in her head. She felt cold, like the air conditioning had been dropped low and created a makeshift icebox out of the room she was in. She also felt stiff but that was both the cold and the fact that she hadn’t moved in what? Over two weeks by then?
There was shuffling to her right. She wondered who was there—was it her parents? Kirishima? The little chuckle answered that quickly.
“Your fingers always twitch when you’re asleep,” she heard him say. “When you fall asleep on me in the common room your little finger twitches tickle because they’re so light. I miss that.”
She never knew she did that in her sleep, and she wondered what made him bring it up.
“You’ve been doing it more and between that and the blinking the doctors say it should really be any time now. I… I miss your eyes. When you blink its so fast I can barely see them so wake up soon, okay?”
She’d been blinking and moving? Could she do that now? She tried to move her left index finger but she couldn’t tell if it worked. Maybe she was still too stiff.
“As much as I love your eyes I think I miss your smile the most,” he said quietly. “Seeing you smile after we confront villains has always been so important, even before we were together. When we saw each other after the USJ and you smiled at me… that was when I realized I had to tell you how I felt.”
He did, right before the sports festival took place. Afterwards he often joked that he advanced as far as he did to prove he was worth keeping around. She could only roll her eyes because he could’ve sat out every event in favor of eating from the food vendors and she would’ve kept him as close as possible.
“When I saw you get hurt I panicked but I knew I had to keep fighting. If nothing else we had to win so I could get to you and make sure you were okay. After we won I practically threw Ojiro and Todoroki out of the way,” he laughed lightly. “I apologized later but I still feel a little bad about it. At least they were understanding.”
Always worried about her, wasn’t he? The feeling was mutual though. She was worried even as he spoke safely from a hospital visitor’s chair just because of the occasional hitch in his breathing. She wanted to see him, to grab his hand, to reassure him.
“Was that finger twitch supposed to be disapproval? I said I apologized!”
Wait, had she really moved?
“They really were understanding though. Heh, probably because I was in tears honestly. Not seeing you smile after a win was just… it hit my heart, y’know?”
Yeah, she knew. He was hitting her heart right now.
“And then you wouldn’t wake up.”
The emotion in his voice was thick and she could picture the pinch in his brows as he tried to hold back tears.
“It didn’t look very good at first and that terrified me more than you could ever know. You barely responded to pain and the swelling took awhile to go down. I don’t know if you could hear me then or even if you can now, but I sat here with you as often as I could and I just kept hoping you would wake up. Well I’m still doing that, but in the beginning I really didn’t know if you would. I held your hand and I cried more than I want to admit just begging you not to leave me.”
How had she gotten so lucky to have him as a partner? What good deed had she done in a past life?
“Even with you moving like that and blinking and everything the doctors have said I’m still scared. They keep saying any day now but I just… when? I’ll sit here every day until you wake up, holding your hand and talking to you. If you can hear me you’re gonna have to get used to me begging even more. Please don’t leave me. I need you here smiling, okay? I want… I want to be a hero you can be proud to stand beside.”
A warm weight settled on her right hand and she realized it was his hand holding hers. She could feel him. She could feel him and she could hear him.
Her body was still so stiff and her eyelids felt like lead but she breathed evenly, gathering all the strength she had. It wasn’t much but it was enough to open her eyes just a bit, light flooding through her lashes and making her close them almost immediately.
Soothing circles were being drawn on the back of her hand and she wanted to see Eijirou smile. It sounded like he hadn’t in so long. She wanted to make him smile.
Her eyes fluttered open just a bit more on the second try but fell closed again at the light. Dammit, hospital lighting shouldn’t be that bad! She tried again, opening her eyes wider and only squinting at the brightness. She kept them open as long as she could before blinking quickly and fixing her eyes on the opposite wall’s small dry erase board; she couldn’t read what it said and she didn’t know if that was because of just waking up or from the injury but she decided to worry about that later.
She could feel the warmth on her hand still and from the corner of her eye she could see red but her head still felt heavy and even turning to the side seemed like an impossibly difficult task. After the fight to just open her eyes she could imagine it wouldn’t be easy. But she desperately wanted to see those red eyes and that sharp smile.
Well her fingers could move and that should be easier than shifting her head to the side, right? So she focused on her right hand and squeezed against the solid palm holding it. She did it once, and then again, and finally a third time. She felt the grip strengthen and soon her line of sight was filled with red hair and red eyes and a blinding smile. She tried to smile back, hoping that the small quirk of the corner of her lips would suffice for now.
In six weeks she had come a long way. After waking up she stayed in the hospital for an additional two days for testing and monitoring before being released back to Aizawa to go back to the dorms. Recovery Girl finished the healing process for her arm and things were, for the most part, back to normal.
Some issues from her time unconscious persisted but were able to be worked through to the point where she didn’t have many difficulties. Initially she had thought there were no effects but as she was dressing to leave the hospital she froze with the laces of her shoe in hand with no idea of what to do next. She knew how to tie her shoes and had known for most of her life, but as she stared down at the white laces in her grip she couldn’t even guess as to what she was supposed to do.
It was a small miracle that her parents were there with Aizawa as she was being discharged because she didn’t think she could handle her teacher having to tie her shoes for her. Relearning wasn’t terrible when she had the help of Eijirou and her friends. They were kind and without much teasing unless she initiated it first. With all the combined effort she was double knotting her laces within two weeks.
Slightly stranger was her perception of music she’d heard prior to her injury—everything sounded just a bit faster, as if it were half a beat ahead of where it should be. It was odd to experience because to everyone else it was normal and just as it should be so she avoided music for a few weeks to shake the uncomfortable feeling it gave her. After roughly a month Jiro convinced her to try listening again and when she started a familiar tune it was just as it should be, no altered speed. It was weird but at least it was over.
She was even back to full contact combat training in hero lessons which was all she had wanted the entire time Aizawa had given her alternate assignments. Most of the class were nervous to work with her even after she was cleared, but she was thankful when both Bakugo and Todoroki challenged her as if nothing had ever happened. That helped to get everyone else back to treating her like the fighter she was.
Eijirou was much clingier and more affectionate with her too. He’d been attentive before but when he’d said he needed her smiling, he had meant it. More than before there was always a hand on her hip, an arm around her shoulder, fingers intertwined with hers, and she enjoyed the increased contact. His goal of making her smile was met a thousand times over within the first two weeks alone, she was sure.
“I did hear you, you know,” she said one night as she laid against him on one of the common room couches. She had one of his hands in hers and traced patterns against his palm. The rest of the class was white noise around them. “I would fade in and out at random times but I heard you the most.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Whatever you heard, I meant it.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, “I know you missed me and my smile and you didn’t want to lose me. You’ve told me all of that since I woke up.”
“Of course!” he agreed quickly. “I was there every day and I just couldn’t imagine you not waking up.”
“I’m glad I woke up when you were there. I was fighting to get back to you just like Bakugo yelled at me to do. I’d heard how upset you were and I didn’t want you to cry over me anymore, I wanted to see you smile too.”
“So you remember a lot of what you heard while you were out, huh?”
She nodded. “There’s a lot I remember but I’m sure I’m missing some things.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, catching her fingers to lace them together.
“I think I want to talk to Aizawa about it more. There’s just some stuff Hound Dog wouldn’t understand.”
“Like what?” he asked, kissing her temple.
She sighed. “Just some other things I remember from while I was unconscious. I think he might have some good insight.”
Eijirou gave a nod of understanding and they fell into a comfortable silence.
She was so glad to back with her friends and boyfriend and seeing her parents again had been amazing. At first it felt like she had missed everything in the sixteen days she had been unconscious but they all worked to fit her back into normal life. Knowing they cared about her was heart-warming in a way she’d never experienced before and she was thankful beyond words.
A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I’m still a little unsure of how this fic turned out though that sometimes when I try something new. Also I know I put Kirishima through a lot of shit around here but I swear I love him and want the best for him! We love an unwavering and sturdy hero on this blog
#eijirou kirishima#Kirishima Eijirou#kirishima imagine#bnha imagine#mha imagine#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#eijiro kirishima#kirishima eijiro#eijirou kirishima imagine#kirishima eijiro imagine#eijiro kirishima imagine#kirishima eijirou imagine#bnha imagines#mha imagines#boku no hero academia imagines#boku no hero academia imagine#my hero academia imagine#my hero academia imagines#manga spoilers#bnha fanfic#mha fanfic#bnha manga spoilers#bnha spoilers#vigilantes spoilers#bnha vigilantes spoilers
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
here’s uhhhhh part two of the aftg volleyball au
(part one)
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Neil can’t seem to catch his breath, and sweat drips down his nose no matter how many times he wipes it away. His eyes are wide and constantly moving, but he can’t seem to take in much beyond a shrinking bubble of space around him. The spectators in the stands are raking through their cheers, mostly in tandem but way out of tune. He can’t make out individual words anymore, just a chorus of sound, far away and unable to filter in clearer.
Everything is a little fuzzy around the edges, and there’s a faded ringing in his ears. He’s angry. He’s annoyed.
They’re receiving, and Neil’s sandwiched between the twins on the back line. Andrew just lost a point on his serve and Aaron’s swapped in for Allison. Three liberos on their back line, three attackers in the front. This might just be their strongest rotation, which is why the last point is rubbing Neil the wrong way. It was a block out, and that’s such fucking bullshit because with Kevin and Matt as the wall the spikers should be running away or taking the challenge to plow through. Going for an intentional graze is too smart, and the Foxes never deal well with smart opponents.
To Neil’s left, Andrew snaps his fingers twice, the first getting his attention and the second keeping it. “Stop thinking so loud. You’re bad at it, and you’re annoying.”
They have a few seconds before the whistle calls for the serve, so Neil turns to look at Andrew. All that fuzziness fades away to perfect clarity as he takes in Andrew in his ideal location – his orange jersey with a bold black ‘03’ sticking to his back and proclaiming him as a permanent starting member of the Foxes. He’s set up and ready to receive – Neil knows Andrew can get the ball up, has watched him do it countless times – but he doesn’t look interested at all. From the side profile Neil can see of his face, Andrew looks like he could sleep at any moment.
Andrew is right, though, and Neil’s willing to admit it. Neil plays based on instinct. When to move, where to run, how high to jump. He knows how to move when he’s in the game, but the moment he starts thinking about how to win beforehand, he’s already lost. “I’ll leave the thinking to you, then.”
“You should.”
The first referee blows his whistle, and Neil turns his gaze forward to watch the serve. It cuts right towards Andrew, and Neil dives for it without thinking – he knows that this is the correct course of action without having to think through any scenarios. The movements are pulled from him like he’s a marionette he’s in perfect control of. Andrew’s the setter, so he can’t go for the receive – they’re absolutely fucked if he does, because no one else can properly set, and just connecting to a spike isn’t going to be enough to break them out of this losing streak. Neil’s fast enough to get there, so he dives. And Andrew, who no doubt had already worked this out in his head, moves out of the way.
“It’s long!” Neil calls as his forearms connect, even though it’s not going to be all that close to the net, and he doesn’t have to tell Andrew where it’s going, because Andrew’s already moving.
This isn’t going to be his ball, because the ace is in the front and Neil can’t spike forward of the ten foot line, but he scrambles to his feet anyway because if he looks like it’s coming to him – if he can make their opponents doubt for even a fraction of a moment – then he’s bought Kevin that much more time and given him that many more options.
“Two blockers!” Aaron yells, moving out of Neil’s line of sight as he loops around to cover for a block receive along the edge of the boundary line.
The ball goes up for Kevin, because Kevin’s the ace and they’ve lost two points now and they can’t get any fucking momentum back and Neil wants to scream because he’s useless on the back row. The blockers are tightened up for a straight, but that’s fine because Kevin has a good cross hit, too – one that Neil’s incredibly jealous of and trying his best to catch up to in practice.
Kevin hits the ball, and like magic it smacks into the palm of a fast third blocker who jumped out of nowhere, and just like that it smashes into the floor on the Foxes’ side of the net.
It’s over by the time Neil’s feet touch the ground. Even though Aaron, Andrew, and Dan dove for it, the point is gone.
Kevin swears, staring across the net at the high-fiving blockers. “That was disappointing.”
“Actually,” Andrew says, pushing slowly to his feet, “I found that a rather refreshing change of pace.” He sways once from one foot to the other as he turns around, walking back into his corner.
“Honestly,” Matt agrees. Dan snorts into her fist and doesn’t succeed in disguising it as a cough.
“I can hear you,” Kevin says, cutting his arm to the side as if to end the conversation. It works, but Matt still laughs his way over to Dan.
Andrew. Neil smiles, small and private, as his eyes follow the setter back to first position. Sure, it probably wasn’t his intention, but Andrew’s witty comment just saved the team from drowning in their lost morale. It certainly allowed Neil to break the surface and take his first breath of clean air in a while.
“Hey.” Neil waits until Andrew looks at him before continuing. “We should switch positions.” They can’t, technically – at least not until the serve goes up. Luckily, this server isn’t incredibly powerful, and she doesn’t have stellar control of the ball. That’s a handful of seconds they could use to their advantage.
Andrew tilts his head. “Do you have enough sense to let go of what’s already in your teeth if the ball comes for you instead?”
Aaron walks over. “Don’t worry about it. I can cover a little wider. She’s a slow server.” He nods once at Neil. “I think it’s a good call. It’ll be easier for me to get the ball to Andrew if he’s in the middle, too.”
With a sigh, Andrew looks around the court at their teammates, then up into the stands like the people gathered are too bright to look at directly. “Okay.”
Neil wasn’t prepared for the type of excitement he would feel to have Aaron backing him up, but it settles along his spine like iron plating. They’ve come a long way – the whole team has. All of their cogs are working together in this new machine Wymack’s constructed, but they’re not very well-oiled. Any place where the gears don’t grind is worth celebrating.
“Hurry up and score!” Allison calls from the warm up box. “I want to get back on court!”
Neil whips his head towards her and laughs, and Aaron walks back to his corner with a shake of his head and maybe even a smile. Which just leaves Andrew and Neil to figure out their new placement.
They had divided up the back court neatly into thirds, given that all three of them can cover their area if need be. But that can’t play out anymore – and really, they should have thought of this before – because Andrew shouldn’t be getting the ball. Judging by Aaron’s new position, he’s not quite planning on covering two-thirds of the back line, but still a good chunk of it anyway. Neil decides to put himself and Andrew in the middle of what’s left, because while he’s sure the server is aiming at Andrew, he’s not sure she’s going to pull that off twice in a row.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, widening his stance and then holding out his hand.
Andrew looks at it but doesn’t immediately react. This shouldn’t feel like tightrope walking across a ravine, but the wind knocks itself out of Neil’s lungs anyway when Andrew takes his hand. Andrew’s grip is tight, so Neil’s is, too. They’re going to have to pull each other in opposite directions, Andrew pulling a little harder than Neil. Thankfully, that won’t be the hard part.
They’ve never practiced this. Not running into each other or tripping on their own legs is going to be the key here.
“Yes,” Andrew says.
Neil knows already, but that yes is still a priceless chip of diamond that he’s trying desperately not to drop. He can feel the weight of Andrew’s gaze on him even as the whistle blows and the serve goes up. The absolute trust for Andrew to have – for a libero, even one who is currently a setter – to not watch the serve coming over the net does not slip past Neil’s understanding. And then beyond that, this is Andrew, and they’re clasping hands and bumping knees, touching more than any scenario would normally make acceptable. The last thing Neil needs right now is to lose focus of the game, but he’s unable to stop thinking about a history of Andrew’s hands on him – pushing at his nape, pulling at his collar, grabbing his chin, holding him steady for a rooftop kiss Neil never saw coming.
The server’s palm connects, and Neil yanks on Andrew’s arm. Andrew pulls back, following the momentum, and because he was looking at Neil and not the serve, they swap perfectly. Neil’s eyes stay locked on the ball from the start, trusting Andrew to get him where he needs to go. They release each other at the same time, and Neil bends his knees and puts the serve up right where it needs to be.
“Give it to me!” Kevin calls, first tempo keeping him grounded for the moment but not for much longer.
Neil watches the ball, watches Andrew. His forearms sting from the connection of the ball, and his palm is burning with the memory of Andrew’s touch. He isn’t sure he wants to erase that feeling with a spike, but he’s going to pretend that’s the thing he wants most in the whole world.
“It’s mine!” he shouts, backing up for momentum and then barreling forward towards the ten-foot line. He jumps with everything his has, arm back and ready to spike.
It’s not his, and he knew it wasn’t going to be, but the blockers at the net couldn’t take their eyes off of him, and Kevin spikes a straight past a blocker trying to cover too much ground.
Matt and Dan cheer like they hadn’t just been refreshed to see Kevin get blocked, and Kevin takes the small dog pile with as much grace as he can when Matt is jumping off his shoulders.
They broke their losing streak.
Neil’s smile finds Andrew’s impassive face as Allison jogs onto the court, swapping a high five with Aaron as he finally rotates off.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew says, but Neil really can’t stop himself.
Dan claps her hands for attention, set up in the center of the net now that Kevin’s rotated back for his serve. One more rotation, and Neil gets to be in front again. “Let’s take this break and run with it!”
The team calls back as a combined unit, a practiced and engrained vocal response to their captain’s provocations.
Kevin steals two points for them and then Allison’s hard block goes out of bounds, and they’re still behind but at least they’re moving.
“Don’t mind,” Neil calls, pushing his breath out slowly as he lowers his center of gravity and gets ready to receive the next serve. He remembers this server, the attempt to hit the ball without a spin last time. “Get under it,” he calls, just as the whistle blows and the ball goes up. It’s a jump floater, and it’s high, but there’s no rule against the back row jumping behind the ten foot line. Neil cuts over towards the center and jumps, touching the ball like he’s the setter and then letting it hang perfectly in the air for Andrew to get underneath.
Andrew tosses the ball to Allison, and she gets the point back with a savage yell.
The Foxes rotate, and as Neil steps over that horrid boundary line, Andrew calls out to him.
“Make some trouble,” Andrew says, before looking to his right at Kevin. “And you. Start jumping.”
Feeling buoyant and much warmer, Neil takes up his stance at the net, bouncing from one foot to the other as the player in front of him turns to the side to watch for the receive. Neil hasn’t hit the ball since he got to the back line, and his palm is starting to ache for it.
Matt’s jump serve goes over powerfully, breaking up their formation and making the spikers move out of place to compensate.
Neil waits. His whole body is buzzing, but he makes himself wait. Nothing slows down, nothing takes eternities to happen. The ball goes up for the setter, the setter tosses the ball, and Neil takes off towards Allison.
The best blocks start from a solid jump.
He plants his feet, straightens his body, and launches into the air.
“One touch!” he calls, his fingers on fire after the rebound. He lands lightly and sprints away, having already taken in and accounted for the positions of the other players. He knows the left is open, and he doesn’t care if he’s going in for a slide hit from the wrong direction. If the ball comes to him, he’ll figure out how to hit it.
He’s in the air already when he looks over his shoulder at Andrew in the center of the court, both feet planted firmly on solid ground. Neil sits in that view, suspended like the split second of brightness right before the sun touches the horizon. Andrew’s pale blond hair is sticking to his face in pieces but mostly falling away as his head tilts back to watch the ball, which settles neatly into the basket of his fingers. His eyes are on fire.
The ball comes to Neil, cutting through the air in a motion that should be too fast to keep track of, but he feels like he can see it perfectly, the same way he feels like he can see the blocker rising up in his peripheral.
Too slow.
Neil, body moving left, smacks the ball down to the right, cutting past the blocker’s arm and all but leaving an indent in the floor.
He stumbles and lets himself fall when gravity reclaims him, knowing it’s better to bruise his hip than overcorrect and touch the net. His palm burns, but when the whistle blows for his scored point, he slams it into the floor anyway, a scream of delight and vindication ripping out of his breathless lungs.
Andrew tossed to him.
Neil takes the hand Allison offers him and climbs to his feet, giving a high five to Dan when she jogs over to join the tiny celebration.
Sweat drips past his bandana into his eyes, and Neil wipes it away with the band on his wrist. He looks at Andrew, who’s watching him closely, maybe waiting for something, maybe proving that the sun isn’t ready to go down just yet. Andrew’s toss is so fast; Neil doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it. He wants to praise Andrew endlessly, but that never gets him anywhere except pushed away as Andrew tries to hide his blush against a quiet night sky.
“One more,” Neil says.
Andrew tilts his head, like he’s still trying to figure Neil out. He has more answers than anyone ever will. “Keep finding openings.” That’s as good as a promise. Andrew’s going to keep tossing to him, and that means Neil’s going to fight for every second he has on the court.
#the foxhole court#the foxhole court fic#aftg volleyball au#i know the ending is super similar to the ending of the first one but#i'm too tired to carry on through the whole ass game#my fics
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Melt IV
Fandom: Thunderbirds
Rating: Teen
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst
Characters: John Tracy, Scott Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy, EOS
Part 4 of my entry for @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday: Smell.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
I’d say I’ve got this fic back on track - despite John going off on me at the start of this part - but that would be a lie. I know where I think it’s going to go from here, but we’ll see if it listens to me. I’m doubtful.
“Talk to me, Scott. What happened?”
Virgil wasn’t the only one worried. All John had had was heat readings way past Scott’s suit’s parameters to deal with to tell him what was happening to his older brother as the avalanche had borne down on him and Gordon – who, aside from an increased heartrate and rising temperature in his gloves, had no maladies reaching Thunderbird Five’s sensors. Scott would no doubt be devastated when he found out that John had sacrificed Thunderbird One to the avalanche to shield them; ideally he’d have opened the cargo bay doors and swallowed both brothers up, away from the snow, but there were limitations to remote controlling Thunderbirds from space. He’d done what he could, and no matter what Scott had to say about it later, John would never regret it.
Lives before machines. Relegated to listening and watching rescues and his brothers’ recklessness (all four of them, no matter what Virgil might claim about being the responsible one), John had learnt to prioritise. A Thunderbird could be repaired, or replaced. A brother could not.
He had no desire to ever be the eldest brother, and if he had to destroy his sole big brother’s Thunderbird to keep that title away from him, then he’d do it as many times as it took. Similarly, he had no desire to end up an only child, nor indeed to have anything less than one older brother and three younger. John had always had a gift for gaining unauthorised access, but it was with his own Thunderbird that he’d honed that to the art it was now. His siblings thought he did it to help them with their missions, to take part as best he could.
They weren’t wrong; John was a member of International Rescue just as much as the rest of them. It just wasn’t the entire reason – or even the main reason, if he was honest to himself. Gaining control of the most innocent of things – a plane door, a train signal – was always to keep his brothers as safe as they could possibly be in this dangerous job their father had left in their hands.
Sometimes, John resented their father for that, in his darkest moods, when there’d been yet another too close moment, when he’d been the sole witness to a brother’s breakdown because the pressure was just too much. He resented him for leaving them, even if there was really no other way Jeff Tracy could have left the world – with a bang, saving lives.
That end awaited them, one day. One day, all together or one by one, they wouldn’t come home from a rescue and the world would mourn a hero, forgetting that heroes had families, too. Up in space, in a constant state of danger as opposed to the ever-fluctuating levels his brothers threw themselves into, John didn’t know if he’d be the first or last to follow their parents. He suspected the latter, because that was all he could ever do, wasn’t it? Watch, and be useless when he most wanted to be able to do something.
He hadn’t been useless today. He’d had Thunderbird One at his disposal, and both his brothers were alive. It was just another day of too close, bringing back to the fore the ever-lurking fear that one day too close would become too late.
EOS was taking Thunderbird Two to the nearest hospital with a burn specialist unit. Not New Zealand – for all that was their usual hospital, the local one they liked to use whenever they had a choice, there were other, better hospitals closer, and John was worried.
“The HeliPod exploded,” Scott rasped at him. He looked awful, and John didn’t bother trying to convince himself that it was just the hologram’s blue tinge making him seem pale. Enough of his big brother was being projected into his Thunderbird that he could see where his mangled uniform had been cut off, stuck to burns that should never had happened. “Some of it landed on me. Gordon tried- Gordon! John, how is Gordon?”
Typical Scott.
“Gordon is fine.” He knew for a fact that Scott had already been told that. Several times.
“Has he woken up?”
“We’re talking about what happened,” John reminded him. Gordon had woken up. In fact, he’d been awake since Virgil had put him in the cargo pod, but all three brothers had unanimously decided that Scott was a higher priority. If Scott was thinking properly, he’d have known that Virgil would not leave an unconscious patient alone for that long (as much as John hated it, as long as he was only there via hologram he didn’t count), but he wasn’t and all three of them had unashamedly preyed on his concern about Gordon to get him to co-operate.
Cruel? Probably, but Scott had long since proven that the only way to get him to even vaguely co-operate with medical care was manipulation. They’d deal with Storm Scott later when he figured it out.
“Give me an update on Gordon, Thunderbird Five.”
Of course, the downside was that Scott had a single-track mind regarding their younger brother and getting him to focus on anything else would be an absolute nightmare. Right now, John was rather concerned about an ‘exploding’ HeliPod, considering nothing Brains ever built and approved for use would explode unintentionally, and would appreciate more details.
Besides, Scott had suffered through the first stage of treatment.
“He has a broken leg and a broken wrist, but both breaks are clean,” John assured him. “His suit protected him from the cold so there’s minimal concern regarding hypothermia. His fingers have some first degree burns, but nothing of concern. And yes, he has regained consciousness.” Scott visibly relaxed, and John kept a close eye on him for an escape attempt even as a hurriedly typed message to Virgil informed him of the update to Scott’s knowledge. A moment later a text reply arrived.
Almost done w G.
“Now, what was that about the HeliPod exploding?” he asked Scott. “That shouldn’t happen.”
“I don’t know,” his brother groaned. “Gordon took us around the peak, and then it fireballed.” No, John did not like the sound of that.
He immediately pulled up all the scans of the area, looking for anything that could have possibly caused a malfunction of that level. Nothing immediately showed itself, but John was nothing if not persistent.
Especially when his brothers were involved.
“Thunderbird Two will be arriving shortly,” EOS chipped in, just as Virgil left the pod and headed back to Scott’s side.
“Thank you, EOS,” his brother said. “Scott, this is your stop.”
“What?” Scott sounded horrified at the idea, and John watched Virgil jump forwards to lightly hold him down, securing the straps enough to stop any successful escape attempts from their injured brother. “What do you mean, my stop?”
“Exactly what I said,” Virgil said matter-of-factly. “You might be conscious, but you’re still seriously injured beyond anything we can handle at base.”
“This hospital has a specialist burn unit,” John interjected, before Scott could start arguing back. It didn’t pacify their older brother at all, but there was nothing he could do about it as Thunderbird Two landed and Scott found himself being pushed out to the waiting paramedics. Virgil ushered the climbers out as well, to thanks and more apologies.
“We’re not leaving Scott there alone, are we?” Gordon asked him and he turned to his younger brother’s hologram. Of all of them, Gordon knew best what it was like to be alone in a hospital, and always made a point of ensuring none of the rest of them were alone for long. The only thing stopping him this time was his own injuries, none of which were severe enough to justify taking up hospital space when they could treat them just fine at home.
“Kayo’s on her way with Grandma,” he informed him. Their sister was furious at what little information he’d already streamed her way, and it had taken some stern words from Grandma to get her to agree to go to the hospital instead of heading for the crash site to investigate. “Scott won’t be alone.” Gordon sighed but seemed pacified enough for the moment.
There was no cameras John could legally use in the hospital, but when it came to his brothers, John wasn’t overly concerned about legality. It took barely a minute to get into the security system, tracking Scott’s journey and watching as he was taken straight to the burn ward. There was no sound, but he could see Virgil debriefing one of the physicians before heading back to Thunderbird Two.
There was nothing more John could do for his brothers; EOS kept the feed from the hospital up in the corner, always showing whichever camera was currently focused on his brother, but John had better things to do than sit and watch helplessly as they began work on Scott’s injuries, although he couldn’t help glancing over periodically to see high-grade anaesthetic being administered before treatment began.
Thunderbird Shadow was quick to appear, landing next to Thunderbird Two. John watched as hugs were exchanged, Grandma briefly entering the module to hug Gordon, and then the two women were heading inside. He directed them to the relevant ward personally, rather than letting the well-meaning staff waylay them, then watched Thunderbird Two take off for home.
Satisfied for now that his brothers were in good hands, and allowing Gordon to patch himself through to a by now agitated Alan – who had been largely kept out of the loop and therefore getting more and more frustrated ever since Thunderbird Shadow had taken off – he turned his attention to the biggest concern of the day.
He needed to talk to Brains.
Part 5
#sensorysunday#sensorysunday2020#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds are go fanfiction#tsari writes fanfiction#john tracy#scott tracy#virgil tracy#gordon tracy#alan tracy#eos#kayo kyrano#grandma tracy#melt
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Scared to go to Sleep(Five Hargreeves X Reader)
A/N I got bored a decided I wanted to write something I'm really sorry if its bad. Five and you are around 19 years old and there's a cuss word or two in this so sorry. Also he went into the future and all but stopped the apocalypse.
You've been having nightmares all week causing you to have restless and terror filled nights. Each night you go to sleep knowing your fears will haunt you but you hope that maybe last night was the last night you had to go through the tears and cold sweat. You realized that the nightmares wouldn't stop so you decided to stop sleeping. If you didn't sleep then there was no way for the nightmares to scare you awake each night.
This was your second night of no sleep at all and you could feel yourself nodding off. It was 2:47 in the morning and you knew you needed to find something to keep you up or go to sleep and join your night terrors in a game of chase. Thinking of something to help keep you up you stumbled to the kitchen in search of you solution. Coffee. You walked over to your coffee machine going to reach for a coffee bag. Your fingers went into the ceramic jar holding all your coffee bag things when your fingers felt none and you peered in to see a nightmare itself. You were out of coffee, after your second night of absolutely no sleep, and your solution to staying up was gone. You groaned putting your hands to your head and tugging at your hair in frustration before sluggishly grabbing you keys and walking to your car. The rational part of your brain knew it wasn't the best idea to drive while you were sleep deprived but you needed coffee to the point were you didn't give a single fuck.
You entered your car before leaving your apartments parking garage and heading straight towards the nearest place that sold coffee, Griddy’s Doughnuts. You walk-ran in going to the counter, seeing a nice lady.
“Hi what would you like?’
“Can I have 10 shot of expresso mixed with black coffee please” you felt awkward as you asked for your odd request.
The lady made a concerned face before saying she’ll back with the coffee in a few and leaving you to sit at the counter in doughnut shop. You looked around the shop to see it empty except for a kid around your age staring at you confused drinking a coffee. You looked back at him with a small smile before turning back waiting desperately for your coffee. The lady gave you your coffee and you paid tipping her generously for your absurd order. You took a sip of your coffee feeling the warmth and taking in the bitter taste. As you started taking your second gulp the boy came and sat next to you.
“What do you want” you asked tiredly.
“I was just wondering why you ordered 10 shots of expresso with black coffee. I can’t figure it out.” he said bluntly.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Ok then. I’m Five Hargreeves nice to meet you at 3:17 in the morning.”
You perked up at his name and turned to look at him better. ‘no way is it Five’.
“Five, it’s me Y/N” you exclaimed.
“I had a thought that it was you but I didn't know for sure.” he said smirking.
“Wow this is a surprise I haven't seen you since high school. Didn't your siblings force you to go there.” you chuckled out.
“Yeah, they’re quite annoying” he turned to look at you scanning you’re face. “It’s weird to see you again.”
“Yeah it is kind of weird to see you. You were probably one of my closest friends.” you turned to face Five more quietly giggling.
“aww how flattering. Now are you going to tell me why your here.” Five said with a smirk, leaning in slightly to show he was listening.
“Well, it’s kind of stupid.” you said nervously, you didn't want to sound stupid in front of Five even if you hadn't seen him for 2 years. “It’s just I've been having these nightmares and they, well they’re the kind of nightmare that wakes you up in a cold sweat. You wake up scared and drenched in sweat and tears and then you cant get back to sleep because every time you close your eyes its back again. The nightmares follow you into the day time as well, everything reminds you of the monster. So I well decided to stop going to sleep, it wont last long but even though these few days have been exhausting it’s better then the nightmares.” All that’s been happening poured out of causing you to rant.
You looked up to see Five shocked and if it weren't for these circumstances you would have taken a picture and laughed your ass off but he looked so concerned it hurt your soul to see his face like that.
“It’s not that bog of a deal, sorry I put that onto you I'm so so-’ Five cut you off.
“No it’s not that sounds terrible and I completely understand but you should get some sleep. Even with the coffee you won’t stay up long.” a concerned edge crossed his voice.
“I cant Five they’re to much” you almost whimpered.
Five almost flinched at the pain and fear in your voice causing him to make up his mind.
“come on” he said calmly grabbing your hand.
You started to protest before you felt him tense and blue clouded your vision. You felt a nauseating pull in your gut before you felt your feet hit the ground again and you dropped to the floor holding your head in pain groaning.
“Sorry Y/N.”
“It’s fine I guess but where are we?” you said stumbling up and looking around.
Five put a stabilizing hand on your shoulder. ”Where at my apartment. I thought maybe you could get to sleep better if you were with someone.” he said blushing awkwardly.
“Thanks Five.”
“Come on.” he muttered, leading you to his bedroom.
He pushed open the door to his room leading you to his bed. He sat you both are the bed before he leaned down to take off his shoes. When you didn't do the same Five looked at you pointedly, signaling you to take off your shoes. You bent down slipping off your shoes before sitting back up not knowing what to do.
“One second ill go get you something to wear” Five said getting up and going to his closet.
He threw you a shirt and sweatpants before turning around and taking his shirt and pants off causing you to look down and blush. After he put his shirt and sweats on he turned around to face you.
“You can change in the bathroom if you’d like or I can turn around and you can change in here”
You blushed before saying “turn around” in a soft voice.
Five turned around and you took off your shirt and bra(is(if you wear one) before slipping on the shirt and then sliding off your jeans and replacing them with warm grey sweatpants. You took a hair tie from your wrist and pulled your H/L H/C out a ponytail and brushing your fingers through your hair.
Turning back towards Five you called out “You can turn around now.”
Five blushed looking at you in his clothes before walking towards you and the bed. He grabbed your hand tugging you into the bed before jumping over to turn the lights out. He jumped back to you and crawled into bed. You felt nervous but felt panic rise up in you since the lights were out. You squirmed into Fives arms, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.
“sorry” you muttered quietly.
“No it’s ok” he said before comfortingly wrapping his arms around you and brushing his fingers through your hair.
This went on until you fell into a peaceful sleep. For the first time in days you didn't have a nightmare.
#number five#five hargreeves#five x reader#five hargreeves x reader#tua#The Umbrella Academy#sorry if its bad#five x y/n#five hargreeves x y/n
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dust - Part 3
Marvel
Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader
Word Count: 3690 (Yeah, I know, sorry, but it wouldn’t have worked if I split it to more than one part)
Warning: grief, endgame spoilers, injuries, angst to the max
Summary: A continuation of my fanfic of Infinity War, set in the plot of Endgame.
A/N: Before I begin, I just wanted to let everyone know who is reading this that I wasn’t happy with Endgame. The treatment of female, LGBT and POC representation was appalling and in 2019 you would expect us to be a lot further along than we are now. The ending of Game of Thrones also had the same problems, showing just how poorly women, LGBT and POC are treated in media. I don’t really know how I would have changed Endgame here to better represent people without changing the whole movie, but I hope by having a female character - who by all means can be a person of colour or LGBT, I make sure to leave it as unspecific as possible so you can put yourself into (Y/N) - having a bit more agency and involvement in the plot will let you know that we do deserve representation, and it is not okay that we are not getting it. Also, Nat deserved better, so I’m giving her better. Hope you enjoy it.
Dust, Part 2
I give no warning before hand when I arrive at the Avengers compound, sitting in the backseat of one of my dad’s old cars he wired to be able to drive itself. Pepper offered to drive me, but I wanted to come alone. This was something I wanted to keep my mom and Morgan far away from. I’d also managed to fill the car with holograms and projections of various ideas for a time machine. Jumping between them all, I pulled different aspects from each that I thought were most likely to work, trying to combine them into something that would give us the best possible chance to bring them all back.
My heart leaps in my chest. I try my best to disassociate what I’m planning and building from the implications of what it could mean. The thought of my dad and Peter gives me so much hope that I feel fear churning in my stomach, an emotion that throws me so much I can barely think straight. So, I refocus on the holograms.
“Miss Stark,” the robotic voice of the car pulls me from my thoughts, “we are here.”
Looking up towards the doors of the compound I see Nat and Steve already rushing out and making their way towards the car. With a deep intake of breathe that falls between a sigh and a shaky gasp, I close all the holograms and open the car door, stepping out.
They both look confused, but hopeful. Steve has a glint in his eyes that suggests he knows what I’m about to say while Nat’s lips are curved up ever so slightly, you would have to know her personally for a long time to be able to notice it. They don’t say anything, waiting for me to say why I’m on their doorstep. I sigh again, thinking about my dad and Peter, my mom and Morgan.
“I’m in.”
Steve and Nat’s faces crack into smiles, and I cannot resist the urge to let my face do the same.
---
I’ll admit, I really was hoping I’d get through the whole time travel plan without having to feel much. I was hoping it would be all serious and down-to-business, like the good ‘ol days when I went on missions to an icy tundra to take down a baddie with my second family of superheroes and it would end with us all going home for takeout. This mission did not end up like that. I had agreed to join Steve to go back for the Tesseract, which meant going back to the attack on New York and Thor’s chaotic brother.
Seeing my dad again, years younger and still alive, I wanted nothing more than to just give up. Grab him and drag him back to the present with me. It wouldn’t take long to catch him up. Then I thought of Peter, his laugh echoing in my head and his smile painted like a mural in my mind. The other half of the population also rushed to the forefront of my mind, the smiling faces on missing person posters from when Thanos first snapped his fingers plastered in front of my eyes.
We’re the Avengers, there is no giving up. Quickly wiping my tears, we managed to get the tesseract without any hiccups.
But seeing my dad again wasn’t the end of the heartbreak. Returning to the present and watching Clint fall to his knees as he returned alone felt like my lungs were about to collapse in on themselves.
“There must be some way to bring her back.” I hear a voice reason, but they sound a million miles away as my hearing muffles and my vision blurs with tears. All I can think about is how I’ve lost someone else. Another part of my family gone.
“It was her life as a trade for the soul stone.” Another voice says, sorrow matching how I feel. “It was the only way.”
Then my mind starts to whir as the cogs turn and I take in a deep breathe. Wiping my eyes, I manage to pull myself together enough to think straight.
“We can get her back,” I say, and all eyes turn to me. “In the same way we got the stones.”
Most of the people before me look confused, some go to object, but I cut them off.
“I know we have to return the stones to the exact spot we took them from. But couldn’t we do the same with Nat? We only have to make sure she returns to that point in time to sacrifice herself to get the soul stone. But who’s to say she can’t live her life before then?”
Faces of confusion change to understanding. Bruce almost looks like he is going to smile.
“So, we go back and get Nat, bringing her to the present like we did the stones. She gets to keep living, and only has to return to that time before she dies,” Bruce reiterates, taking a moment to think it through “that could work.”
“It would be risky, and she would probably have to give up being an Avenger. But if any of us deserve to retire, it’s Nat. Especially after this.” I state.
“Then let’s go,” Clint says, already getting to his feet and moving to put his helmet on again.
“Wait,” I stop him, “we should wait until we’ve reversed everything. If something goes wrong and it puts her in danger – because we all know she would be there fighting alongside us – we could put the future in jeopardy.”
There is a round of nods and mumbles of agreement. A feeling of determination rises in the air.
“Then let’s reverse everything.”
---
Sometimes I hate being right all the time. Not bringing Nat back there and then was definitely the right choice, seeming as, as soon as Bruce snapped his fingers while wearing the gauntlet, supposedly bring back the other half of the universe, the compound promptly exploded. In all the confusion, I managed to make it up through the rubble and was met with the bane of my life. The looks on Steve and Thor’s faces as they joined me amongst the remains of the compound seemed justification that Thanos was also the bane of their lives.
Pushing the manic thought of how the other half of the universe was mostly likely alive again – dad, Peter, I turned my attention to the titan that wanted to take it all away from me. Again. Memories of a blade slicing through my dad’s stomach, of him and Peter turning to dust in my arms. Anger boiled in my blood.
I barely registered most of the fight. At one point I’m pretty sure Steve had Thor’s hammer, but I was so blind with anger and pain and loss and heartbreak that all I could focus on was blasting Thanos to high hell. The warning signs my suit flashed in my face as I took hit after hit, dealing him my fair share too, only proved to annoy me. Eventually, I took my helmet off. The frenzy had died down and I appeared to be the only one standing apart from Thanos. Pain crept through my body, but I ignored it. I felt Steve struggle to his feet next to me.
Thanos takes this time to monologue, and I watch as his army comes to join him. I don’t really know what is happening. I don’t know where the other half of the universe is, if Bruce’s use of the gauntlet even brought them back. I don’t know if mom and Morgan will be safe after this, I don’t know if I’ve ended what little happiness we had. I don’t know how this is going to end, or how I’m going to die.
But I do know I’m not going down without taking as many of Thanos’ army – if not the mad titan himself – down with me.
I glance at Steve. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes seem to be projecting the same thing. He grips what is left of his shield and I clench my fists, feeling the energy charging through my suit.
A voice crackling through the intercoms in our ears makes us pause. At first, the words are impossible to make out, but soon we understand them.
“On your left.”
As if on que, the sound of a portal pulls our attention to behind us. I can already feel a grin clawing at my face when I realise the voice is Sam’s, but triumph courses through me when the portal opens enough for three figures to step through it. Okoye, T’Challa and Shuri. The latter decides now is the time for a wiggle of her eyebrows and confident wink. I actually laugh at the surreal cockiness of my friend.
My friend, I think. Living and breathing.
It doesn’t end there. The sound of other portals surrounds us, and I turn completely to watch, ignoring Thanos entirely. Some are massive, allowing whole armies to pass through them, while others are smaller with only a few figures emerging. One in particular catches my eyes. Doctor Strange comes through first, followed by the Guardians and then two more people.
I feel like my heart is going to explode. Peter swings through the portal, landing on a large slab of rock. My dad just walks out, his suit fully on but he quickly loses the helmet, looking directly at me.
‘I love you,’ he mouths, the words clear as day on his lips from the amount of times I’ve remembered him saying them to me.
All I can do is smile in disbelief, feeling tears cut their way through the dirt and dust on my face. Steve’s words stop me from running to them, reminding me of where we are.
“Avengers,” he shouts, making me tear my eyes from my dad and Peter and turn back to Thanos, putting the helmet of my suit back on. Steve finishes the phrase in a chilling whisper. “Assemble.”
And we attack. United, it is clear Thanos doesn’t stand a chance.
I attack with the same ruthlessness I did before the portals opened, but this time it is spurred not by the determination of a last stand, but the strength of winning a final battle. Unfortunately, my injuries from fighting Thanos one on one come back to haunt me, making my movements slower and I make more mistakes. I’m soon backed into a corner against the remains of a wall, surrounded by Thanos’ soldiers. My suit screams at me to get myself away, but I cannot escape, and for the first time since the battle began I feel a surge of panic.
Then the soldiers are attacked from two sides – one attacker closer than the other – and soon they are all gone. The helmet of my suit comes down again so I can breathe as I slump to the floor, deciding I deserve a few seconds of time out.
“(Y/N), are you alright?”
“Mom?” I look up to see Pepper, heading towards me, crouching down next to me and taking my face in her hands. Her eyes are filled with concern, but it is difficult to register as I try to figure out how she is here. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I supported you, didn’t I? How was I supposed to do that from back home?” She tucks some of my hair behind my ear, her other hand still cupping my face.
“Who’s babysitting Morgan?”
“Who’s Morgan?”
Both mine and my mom’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates at the voice. We scramble to our feet, but we are almost knocked to the ground again at the sight of my dad.
“Tony,” my mom whispers, before running to him. They meet in the tightest hug possible for two people wearing big metal suits, eyes already watering with tears. They’re both mumbling loving words to each other, and all I can do is stand there watching.
“You coming in for a hug too, kid?”
He doesn’t need to ask me again as I sprint towards them, letting them engulf me in a joint hug that I have waited so long for. I bury my face in my dad’s neck.
“I missed you,” I tell him, the taste of my own tears on my lips.
“I missed you too,” Tony replies, hand moving to the back of my head.
The three of us stay in that hug for longer than we should while in the midst of the biggest battle of the universe, but Thanos himself couldn’t have pried me from my parents’ arms then. It was my dad who eventually ended the hug. Pulling back, he looked between me and my mom.
“So, are you going to tell me who Morgan is? Is she the new dog or gerbil?”
My mom laughs, moving her hand up to my dad’s face.
“She’s your daughter.”
My dad’s face splits into a grin, and he looks to me for confirmation. I just nod, realising there is not a single difference between my dad’s grin and Morgan’s. I’m almost about to pull up a photo of her with my suit to show him when we’re interrupted.
“(Y/N)!” The sound of a person landing is heard from behind me, and my name on their lips is the greatest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Peter!” I shout, sprinting at him the same way I did to my dad seconds before, only this time I manage to take Peter to the ground with this hug. He pulls me close, arms tight around my body. He’s rambling in the same way he always used to, telling me about how he woke up and came through the portal.
I don’t really register his words, pulling back to look at his face, taking in every feature I’ve only been able to imagine for the past five years. I faintly make the connection that we’re in the same position we were when he died, but it doesn’t affect me as I cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face as close to mine as I can. Peter responds in kind, hands cupping my face as he relaxes into the kiss. We pull apart with slightly swollen lips and dopey grins.
“That was nice,” Peter sighs.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” I tell him, about to lean in for another.
“Would you mind waiting a little longer? It appears we’re still in the midst of a battle.” My dad interrupts us before we can kiss again, Peter’s cheeks becoming a strong pink as I feel heat rise to mine. We’re quick to get back to our feet, but still stay close.
“Right, yeah, it can wait,” I reply, getting myself ready to carry on fighting, “only been five years, but sure I can go a little longer. No biggie.”
We all just stand there smiling at each other for a moment before being rudely interrupted by some of Thanos’ soldiers and we’re back in the action again. Continuing to fight, I manage to stay close to all three of them to some extent, as we all make sure we have each other’s backs in some way. The fight continues for a little longer, until somehow it is me, my dad and a few other Avengers up against Thanos. Somehow the titan manages to overpower most of us, despite losing the gauntlet. I try to make my way towards it, but that only results in me being thrown far out of the way, slamming into a large chunk of rubble that manages to wind me despite the suit. However, it gives my dad a window to get close to the gauntlet.
I can only watch as he hovers over it, looking up at Strange who holds up one finger. It takes me a moment to work out what he means. One in fourteen million.
No.
Iron Man and Thanos both jump for the gauntlet. From where I am slumped, unable to move as my suit desperately tries to mend both itself and me, I don’t see who manages to get it. They fight, close combat, and I remember the last time that happened. I was in the exact same position; paralysed and unable to help. They eventually break apart, the gauntlet on Thanos’ hand. He looks triumphant, but I can see what he is missing.
“I am inevitable.” He snaps his fingers, expecting to win but receiving nothing.
I look at my dad, stumbling to his feet, the hand of his suit bejewelled with the infinity stones. He turns his hand, so they are in plain view of Thanos and utters one final famous phrase.
“I am Iron Man.”
And he snaps.
The battle comes to a sudden end. We all watch as Thanos’ army turns to dust, the titan soon following them. My suit manages to stop screaming at me and I scramble out of it, leaving it beaten and broken behind as I stumble to where my dad lies. Everyone else isn’t far behind.
“Dad,” I cry out, already at his side. He doesn’t answer, just looks into my eyes. I hold his gaze, trying desperately to ignore his mutilated arm. I soon feel my mom and others join me. I can hear Peter breaking down, and the sorrow of everyone surrounds me. My dad is going to die right in front of me. Again.
My mom tries to hold me as she speaks to him, assuring him how everything is okay. I barely feel anything, leaning into her slightly as my eyes drift to his hand, the infinity stones still sitting in the burnt remains of his suit. One last stupid, reckless idea springs to my mind through all of the grief. I may not be allowed to live out my life with my dad, but Morgan deserves to know him. As Pepper leans in to kiss his cheek, I take my opportunity to pry one of the stones off Tony’s hand. The purple hue almost speaks to me, telling me what to do.
Admittedly, plunging it into my chest to wield as much of its power as I could was probably not the best idea, but I could already feel it tearing my hand apart so making it as much a part of myself as possible seemed the best option. I hear voices cry out my name, but I ignore them, pushing through the immense pain and focusing solely on my dad. I put every ounce of my being into reversing his pain, healing him.
I lose consciousness before I know if I was successful or not.
---
The beeping of a monitor in time with a heartbeat is the first thing I notice. It takes me a little while to work out it is my heartbeat. Slowly opening my eyes, I find I’m lying in my own bed. An IV drip is connected to my arm and my desk is littered with ‘get well soon’ cards and large bouquets of flowers.
What I don’t understand most about the situation is I feel completely fine. Sitting up, my condition doesn’t change, so I pull off everything attached to me and get up, making my way towards the door. I hear murmurs of voices that sound like they’re coming from downstairs. Slowly making my way out I walk towards the stairs, soon discovering that pretty much everyone I know is in my living room.
Morgan is the first to notice me as I’m halfway down the stairs. She gasps, making everyone look at her, before sprinting towards me. I catch her at the bottom of the stairs, picking her up and hugging her close to me. The last thing I remember is intense pain and the destruction of a battle, so it is a nice change to be suddenly back in my own home with my little sister.
And the world and his brother. I’m soon engulfed by people, asking me questions and saying my name, but most keep their distance. Except for my parents, who hover around me like I’ll break at any moment and Peter who is the only person to treat me normally, running to give me a hug just like Morgan.
“Hey, okay, listen. I’m fine! What’s going on?” I ask, and everyone quietens down. “What?”
“Look down.” My dad instructs as he nods at my chest. I’m overjoyed to seem him perfectly fine, and with a confused look I do as he says.
“Oh.” A purple light shines from underneath the fabric of my t-shirt. I pull the shirt down enough so I can see what it is, finding out it’s the infinity stone I pried from the others embedded in my skin. “What the…”
“You should be dead,” my dad states bluntly, earning him a nudge from my mom, “but I think the stone is keeping you alive.”
I begin to notice the tingling of power in my fingertips. Maybe it is giving me more than just a second chance to live. I don’t mention it to anyone.
“But if the stone is keeping me alive, how do we return it to where we took it from?”
“Looks like you’ll have to do the same as me.” Nat emerges from the group of people still surrounding me, and despite what she just said I run at her with a grin on my face and pull her into a tight hug.
“So be it,” I reply, “I’m alive. We all are.”
Looking around, I smile at the faces of everyone I know. The people we brought back, the people who survived. I look to my family, Pepper’s arm around Tony’s waist while Morgan sits grinning in her father’s arms. I look to Peter with his warm eyes and charming smile. I imagine kissing him again and again once everyone gets out of my house. The idea of living a normal life with everyone I love thrills me to the core.
“We won,” I state, relishing in the feeling.
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#endgame#avengers endgame#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#stark!reader#tony stark x daughter!reader#peter parker x stark!reader#fanfiction#fanfic
324 notes
·
View notes
Text
follow me - |3|
peter parker x reader
summary: you just got your spidey powers and have no idea how to use them, but lucky for you, a certain spider-boy is willing to teach you his ways.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: fluff!
a/n: hehehe fluffy chapter before the Real Shit goes down! :) so excited for y’all to see where this series goes
chapter 2 - chapter 4
Now that you were almost a month into your training, you’d pretty much mastered the whole “sticking to things” aspect of your powers (thank goodness), but yet another obstacle had presented itself. Instead of sticky fingers, you were now struggling to distinguish real danger from other, non-threatening triggers caused by your spider senses.
This was proving to be a struggle on your current mission. You’d heard reports of an illegal arms deal, and when you and Spidey told Tony about the rumors, he’d asked for you two to go check it out. (He was very specific about NOT engaging- he didn’t want you to make your presence known.)
After a few minutes of instruction, Spidey led the way to the site of the arms deal, motioning for you to hide with him in the darkness of a nearby underpass. A white van filled with weapons was parked beneath you, the squeaking of the doors resonating in your ears as they opened up the back of the car. Two men in masks stood watch next to the vehicle as a tall woman with icy white hair climbed out of the back, lifting her chin and extending a hand to her customer.
They began to speak quietly, but you weren’t close enough to get a clear understanding of exactly what they were discussing. However, Spidey seemed to be tuned into the conversation, most likely using his suit’s AI as a sound amplifier. You wouldn’t mind having one of those yourself.
Now, as previously mentioned, you were having some… issues... with your spidey senses. Spider-Man was trained, so he was able to use his senses effectively to keep himself safe. You, on the other hand, hadn’t quite mastered that yet. Although nobody was holding the weapons, just their presence was sending waves of paranoia and adrenaline throughout your body. It tingled down your spine and up your scalp, raising the hair on your arms until it stood up straight. Obviously, the weapons did pose a small threat, but the sensation of anxiety washing over of you was almost too much to even be able to focus on the mission.
“Hey,” Spidey must have taken notice of your stressed out state, because he placed a comforting hand on your forearm and whispered, “Just take a few deep breaths, okay? I promise we can work on this later, but for now, just try to breathe and push the signals out of your mind.”
You nodded before jerking your head back down to the scene below you, a flash of light grabbing your attention. The woman was pulling something out of her pocket, but it was angled so you couldn’t see it well. As you leaned forward to catch a better look, a moth flew past your face, causing you to swipe it away. Your gloved hands were covered in dust from the underpass, and when they flew past your nose, you accidentally inhaled a bit. Dread pooled in your stomach as you held back a sneeze, the pressure building more and more until you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Achoo!” you sneezed into your elbow, taking in a sharp breath as Spidey’s head snapped between you and the arms dealers below you. The woman had turned her head in your general direction, her guards’ bodies visibly tensing.
“Shit,” Spidey whispered, “Don’t move a muscle, but be prepared to fight if we need to.” You answered by doing just what he said, heart in your throat as the woman continued to stare in your direction.
Thankfully, it was way too dark for there to even be a chance of her seeing the two of you.
She nodded her head quickly at the guards and made a quick comment to the customer before jumping in the back of the van, swinging the doors shut. The vehicle took off, leaving dust behind it before the car of the customer took off in the opposite direction.
Once everything was silent, you looked over and saw Spidey visibly exhale, motioning for you to drop to the ground.
“I think I need a new suit…” you joked half-heartedly as Spidey crossed his arms. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the disappointment radiating off of his body, the tension filling the air.
“Let’s take a look around,” he sighed, dropping his arms back to his sides, “See if we can find anything useful to bring back to Mr. Stark.”
You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck and turned around, scanning the area for anything unusual. After a few minutes of searching, you spoke up again, the silence becoming almost unbearable.
“I’m really sorry,” you apologized, sincerity soaking every word, “That was a pretty dumb mistake. I can’t believe I alerted the people we were supposed to be spying on…”
Spidey paused, your comment taking him back to the first arms deal he spied on. “Don’t worry… I’ve done something similar before.”
Before you could ask him about what happened, a small purple light caught your eye. You jogged over to the bush and stuck your hand in it, pulling out a small, purple, glowing device.
“Hey Spidey, is this important?” You held up the device in front of your face, trying to identify it. It almost looked like it was filled with a liquid, and the shine of the device was so bright that it lit up your entire face in a purple hue.
“Oh my god…” Spidey carefully took the device out of your hand, his white suit eyes the widest you’d ever seen them, “I can’t believe this… How…. is this even possible?”
“Uhhh… is everything okay?” you were growing concerned; you’d never seen Spidey so shaken up by something.
“We need to get back to Mr. Stark, NOW.”
___________
“Should we be worried? Has he broken out? I thought he was in jail!”
Spidey was throwing his hands around in wild gestures as he asked Mr. Stark question after question that you didn’t understand; you were nervous that he would accidentally break one of the high-tech machines sitting on the lab table.
“He’s definitely still in jail,” Mr. Stark was messing with a display, pulling up information on a criminal whose face you recognized as being Liz Allan’s father.
“Then why were these people selling his weapons?” Spidey demanded, pulling back a bit when Tony raised his eyebrow in question.
“I think that there were just some left over from when he was in business,” Tony proposed, “There’s bound to be a few weapons still in circulation, even after his arrest.”
“What can we do about it?” you budded in, despite the fact that you didn’t really know what they were talking about.
“You two,” he switched off the screen in front of him, “Don’t need to do anything. I’ll figure out a way to shut down the devices. Meanwhile, you kids can sit tight until I have another assignment for you. Now scram.”
Spidey turned to you as you left the room, pausing once the door slammed shut behind you. “Hey, I was thinking about something you mentioned back there at the underpass-”
He was cut off by your watch’s alarm beeping, telling you that you were about to be late for coffee.
“I’m so sorry,” you begged, “But can this wait? I’m about to be late for something. I’ll catch you later?”
“Yeah-,” Spidey glanced at the time on his wrist, “Oh, me too! Yeah, I’ll catch ya later.”
You scrambled out of the tower, bursting into the first gas station that you saw. Giving a quick nod to the cashier, you proceeded to locate and then lock yourself in a bathroom, throwing on some normal clothes you had packed in your backpack. As soon as you finished, you ran through the back exit, flipping your head in both directions to figure out the fastest way to get to the coffee shop where you were meeting Peter. Recently, the two of you had been hanging out a lot more; he’d also been a lot more open than usual. You weren’t sure what had changed, but it was like he trusted you more. It also felt like…like you were getting to know him even when you weren’t with him, which was pretty odd. You didn’t even have his phone number.
After rounding the corner, the coffee shop was in your sights, the tan sign hanging just down the sidewalk. Just as you were about to grab the door and open it, somebody opened it for you, the cold air from the shop breezing past your face.
“Thank you-” you turned around, stopping mid-sentence when you saw it was none other than Peter holding open the door, “Oh! Peter! Thank god, I thought I was late!”
“Me too,” he smiled kindly at you, brushing some stray curls away from his face, “I’m starving. Mind hurrying up?”
You gave a sarcastic eye roll in response to his tease, purposefully walking as slowly as possible to the counter so he’d be stuck behind you. “This fast enough for you?” you snarked over your shoulder, giggling when he gave you his best pouty face.
“Pleaseeee?”
Sighing dramatically, you picked up the pace, ordering your favorite drink of all time once you reached the counter. You waited for Peter to order before taking a seat in a booth, giving the barista a smile when she sat your drinks down in front of you.
“Soooo,” Peter started, taking a sip of your drink, “How are you doing? Anything exciting happening?”
You shrugged, a little torn between being honest or polite. After an eyebrow raise from Peter, you decided to tell him how you were really feeling. He was one of the nicest people you knew, and you really needed somebody to vent to.
“I guess you could say that life has been a little crazy lately,” your lashes fluttered as you looked down, placing your chin on the palm of your hand, “The internship has really started piling work onto my desk, and that paired with a ‘side project’ of mine has really put a lot on my plate. I’m kinda drowning, if I’m being honest, and I don’t know how I can keep balancing both of those things with school and a healthy social life.”
Peter nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gave you his advice on the situation. “You know, I understand what you’re going through pretty well. What I did, and still do, to handle that kind of stress is a little… private, and somewhat unorthodox, but I’m willing to share it with you because I trust you and I’d do anything for a friend in a tight spot.”
He paused, almost as if he was waiting for your approval to continue. Clearing his throat after you gave him a small nod, he went on with his explanation. “When I feel overwhelmed, I like to go to the roof of my building and look out on the city. It’s my safe space. I never let myself bring any sort of work, stress, or problems up there with me. I keep it clear of any anxiety, and that allows me to just… relax when I’m up there. It clears my mind.”
“Really?” You were intrigued; after all, Parker didn’t seem like the type to enjoy heights.
“Yeah. Now, a rooftop might not be your safe space, but I recommend finding one that is personal to you. It might take a while to find one, but you’ll know when it’s right, as cheesy as that sounds.”
You nodded your head, genuinely thankful for the advice he gave you. For some reason, you felt like he really understood what you were going through; even more than just a surface level type of relation.
“Anything in particular happening with you?” you sat up straighter, putting all of your attention on him. After all, if he helped you with your problems, you wanted to help him with his.
“Actually,” his cheeks tinged a light pink as he paused, thinking of a way to phrase his next statement without giving it away, “I’m kind of working on a big project for somebody, and I’m a little nervous they won’t like it.”
“I’m sure they will,” you emphasized, making sure to pack your words with reassurance and hope, “After all, I’ve heard you’re an amazing gift giver.”
“Oh really?” he laughed, “Well, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I only get gifts for people I actually like.”
“Ouch,” you chuckled lightly before pausing, clearing your throat to take on a more sincere tone, “Hey Peter?”
“Mhm?” he took a sip from his drink, looking at you from over the rim of his glass with wide eyes.
“I’m really glad I have you.”
He froze, a warmth spreading throughout his chest. Suddenly, it was a little harder to breathe, and his heart was beating faster and faster by the second. “Y-yeah, of course,” he stuttered, voice small and nervous, “Just let me know if you need anything. Like, ever.”
He paused for a moment.
“Do I have your number?”
Shaking your head, you scribbled it down onto a napkin, sliding it to him across the table. “Text me later tonight so I can put you in my contacts,” you smiled, standing up from the table, “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later, okay?”
“See ya!” he waved, voice still a little shaky.
_________
Later that night as you sat in bed, scrolling through your social media, a small text alert popped up at the top of your screen.
unknown number: hey! it’s peter :)
A soft smile crossed your face, butterflies filling your stomach as you filled in his contact name. That’s strange… a single text shouldn’t be making you feel this way, right? Why was he only just now making you nervous, even though you’d known each other for months? Were there deeper feelings hidden underneath the surface level friendship you had with him?
Were you alone in these thoughts, or did he feel something for you, too?
follow me taglist;
@spiderrpcrker @lovely-parker @tommyhollander2013 @baybay123455
taglist;
@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven
peter parker taglist;
@lostnliterature @lovely-parker @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder
join my taglist!
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker reader insert#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker blurb#peter parker fic#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#peter parker oneshot#lainey writes#fanfiction#reader insert#xreader#spiderman x reader#spider man x reader#follow me
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
White Widow - Chapter Five
White Widow - Chapter Five
Fanfiction.net | AO3
Title: White Widow
Chapter: Five
Author: Blue Rose
Rating: M (Hard R)
Pairing: Sasuke/Sakura
Summary: “Running away was easy; not knowing what to do next was the hard part.” - Sakura needed to stop fantasizing about running away to some other life, and start figuring out the one she had. [Sasu/Saku, Modern AU]
Warnings: Adult Content
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I damn sure don’t make a single red cent for this either. So please, don’t sue the Blue
Author Notes: (8/11/20 UPDATE): Chapter has been beta'd and a few edits/changes. Huge shout out to my new beta - CherryBerry12. Thank you so much for your assistance :)
Even if it's just a word or two, I really appreciate any feedback. I welcome emoji's and Lenny Faces too 💙💙💙 (づ ͡° ³ ͡°)づ . Thank you so for reading :)
Chapter Five
Sakura's heels clicked loudly towards the elevator bank, the sound echoing against the marble flooring. As nice as they looked, she was trying her best to ignore the slight pinch the black shoes caused near her smallest toe.
Pushing a button to recall one of the elevators, she felt a teeny bit of regret with her footwear choice today. Having spent the last few months in sneakers and hiking boots her feet didn’t appreciate being thrust constantly in heels that had been previously collecting dust in closets. But fashion was pain, as they'd like to say. And she couldn't allow the small pang to stop her strut. Most of her shoes needed to be broken into anyway. They had sat on shelves looking pretty long enough, and if she wasn’t going to wear them, then what’s the point?
When a loud ding signaled the arrival of an available lift, her mind drifted to another choice she had made today. One that she didn’t regret, she thought slyly.
Discreetly texting Sasuke during her meeting with her mentor.
She thought she'd done a good job of being sneaky. Tsunade not verbally calling her out for being distracted made for a successful mission, in her book. At least, that was until the device went off twice; back-to-back. There wouldn't be a chance for a third.
"Do you need to get that?"
Ok... so, maybe she hadn’t been as covert as she’d thought she’d been. It only took a few seconds to see what was written while the apology was flying out of her mouth. Maybe a few more to type out a reply before she finally switched the phone to silent mode out of respect. She tucked the plastic under her thigh and sat up straight. The last thing she wanted to be was rude.
Another opportunity presented itself when Tsunade received a call from her desk phone. Excusing herself to answer it, her office chair spun away from the pinkette. Sakura didn't mind at all, using the time to bring her phone closer, eyes glinting as she responded to the last message she received from him.
He was going to bring her coffee.
She felt a flare of anticipation blossom inside at the thought of seeing him again, in the flesh. Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips before they simpered into a smile.
She had briefly mentioned yearning for the hot beverage during their exchanged texts. Usually tea would be her preferred choice, but not today. Even the Keurig machine she passed in the hall was ignored. No, she was craving something hot and fresh. A roasted brew of delight that was sure to perk her up nice and good.
His response to the passing comment?
Message:
"How do you take it?"
She didn't put much thought into it at the time. It was easy to write it off as small talk or just plain curiosity. It never occurred to her where typing out a simple order could lead. And when he replied with an ETA, it became all too real that yes...
He was in fact, on his way to see her.
It was hard not to feel excited, but even that didn't stop her from trying to refuse him. She was more than capable of scoring her own liquid gold and tried to politely decline. Making sure to emphasize that, really... she was fine. There was no need for him to go out of his way for such a trivial thing.
Not to mention, the last thing she wanted to be was a burden.
What if he wasn't in the area? Was he really going to brave mid-day traffic just to bring her some coffee? Granted, the city wasn't too vast. But depending on the time of day and where you wanted to go... you could find yourself stuck behind the wheel much longer than anticipated. Sasuke’s curt reply a moment later stated that it wasn't a big deal... and that he would call when he was a few minutes away. She had no choice but to let him have it his way. If he really was this insisting, who was she to turn him down? It was such a small gesture. Really, it was only coffee...
But…
Contentment warmed her from within and she took a defiant joy in it all. So maybe she was crushing hard. Probably a lot harder than she originally thought.
Tsunade chose that time to place her call on hold, warning Sakura that she was going to be tied up longer than planned. It didn't come as a surprise to either of them. A woman of her stature had a very demanding schedule, and being pregnant was not going to slow her down anytime soon. It was something she had loudly vocalized during the weeks after announcing that she and Dr. Dan were expecting.
They would need to catch up another time it seemed.
Completely understanding, Sakura excused herself from the office, making plans to connect later as she waved goodbye.
Now, as she found herself inside the descending lift it was damn near impossible to suppress the giddiness she felt. Her silly little grin only broadened when she caught her reflection against the gold plated doors.
But as she stepped outside the building and into a blooming courtyard, her mind cautioned against such distractions. Because… really, her attention should be elsewhere.
Like concentrating on her impending schedule. Many things to worry about there. All the forms and paperwork, exams... just to name a few things. All of which would be added to her calendar, very soon.
The pinkette sighed, bringing a hand up after wincing. It was easy to recognize the signs of an incoming stressed-related headache. Making an attempt to rub away the tingle she felt behind her eye, she willed herself to calm down.
Sure, there was much to be done between now and the start of classes. There was plenty of studying to catch up on... not to mention moving into a new place. She could easily become overwhelmed, if she wasn’t careful.
Luckily, Sakura considered herself to be a fairly organized person. All she needed to do was use her time wisely from there on out. And there was no time like the present to start planning, she supposed. At least, that was a phrase her mother used often.
Part of a good work ethic is planning ahead, she would say. Don't wait until the last minute to do something, if it can be taken care of now.
She just needed to have a little more faith in herself, she thought, feeling her confidence return as quickly as it left. Maybe start trusting that everything would work out? There was no need to start fussing so soon.
Besides, what was a little coffee and meetup going to hurt? Surely she could handle academics and boys at the same time just fine. It's not like she hadn't before...
Sakura brushed away the stray thought. There really wasn't a need to go traveling down memory lane. It was probably best to stay concentrated on the task at hand. Her steps quickened on the pathway, finally making it through the garden maze and out to the main street. It was definitely noisier than the courtyard she'd just come from. Pausing to look around Sakura hoped to catch sight of the tall, dark, and handsome distraction. A distraction who should be arriving soon, actually. She almost jumped when her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. A new message had come through.
He was here.
She raised her chin, watching a large SUV pull to the curb further down the block. Weaving forward when the lights flashed briefly, she forgot about the small pain on her foot. Trying her best to plaster on her best poker face, the pinch in her feet had all but disappeared when she strolled towards the waiting vehicle. She would do herself no favors if she appeared as giddy as she felt at that moment.
The phone was raised to her ear, and cracks of a small smile kept slipping through with each step she took.
"Is that you?"
"No... it's a serial killer with duct tape and rope." Sasuke's rich voice answered her smoothly, dripping with sarcasm.
Ok, so maybe that was not the best choice of words to say to her… but it did spark an amusement in him like nothing else. The look on her face changed in the span of a heartbeat, and he chuckled when she got closer. Was she always this easy to rile up?
Sasuke ended the call while pressing the unlock button, his eyes following her through the window. She reached up to open the door, and he couldn’t help but take her in.
Idling on the curb, their eyes met while she still grasped the door handle. Hesitant, she leaned in... eyes darting between him and the seat, calculating the distance.
Holding his tongue, he pointed to a handlebar with a nod.
Sakura rolled her eyes, yet her slender hand reached for it anyways. Balancing one heel on the step bar below the door, she swung the other inside.
His eyes caught the way her curves finally settled, her opaque tights matching the black leather of the cars' seats. Sasuke adjusted the temperature on the console dash, catching a glimpse of pink on her rounded cheeks.
"Are you sure you should be in the front seat? I could pop the trunk open… that's usually where victims are kept, right?" he continued as she shut the heavy door.
She huffed, eyes challenging as she met his.
"As if… I could gut you in four different ways before you ever got the chance," Sakura confidently fired back, but she did greet him with a smile. So innocent and sweet despite the threats of bodily harm just a few moments ago.
Damn did she have a pretty smile.
And, he had no doubt she could make good on her promise.
Akamaru decided that now was a good time to make his presence known. Nothing but fur and wet snout as his head popped up between them. Sasuke watch her turn, instantly greeting him with a larger smile than the one she had gifted him.
So now the mutt was going to receive more attention than him?
'Wonderful.' Sasuke thought mockingly, observing them over the soft sounds of her coo'ing.
Sakura busied herself by petting Akumaru's head a bit more, only her thoughts were elsewhere. The puppy sensed it was time to settle down and retreated, and Sasuke’s voice trailed behind him. The threat lingered in the air; if he pissed on anything back there, there would be hell to pay.
Scoping him from the corner of her eyes, Sakura wanted to know what else pissed him off. Sure, it might sound a little weird, but her fascination got the best of her.
What were his other ticks and dislikes? What made him smile? Things that he did for fun....or what was his favorite show?
These weren't bad questions, right? Just... random, completely harmless inquiries about his favorite color or the meaning of those intricately placed tattoos.
Maybe, a little audaciously, how he liked his eggs cooked in the morning?
It was partially his fault, she concluded, just as Akumaru barked. She turned slightly towards Sasuke, but his focus was on eyeing the puppy through the rear-view mirror.
That dark appeal he exuded just begged to be peeled back. Her analytical mind wondering about all the layers that made him who he was as she traced his sharp jawline. Unfocused and lost in her thoughts, her eyes lowered.
There was this urge to analyze the feelings that seemed to linger between them, and it grew the longer she found herself in his presence.
Maybe she could shed some light on their magnetic chemistry. And why the attraction was more intense now than it had ever been before. To Sakura, it didn't make sense because it should have already peaked, especially after their rumble between the sheets. Honestly, how could either of them forget the passion from that fateful night...?
But even now, here in the present, there was this... yearning.
It manifested physically when her hands became itchy and needy. Her fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch him and she couldn't help but notice their proximity. How he was sitting close... but yet, much too far away.
Sakura made a silent promise to not be greedy... a few touches would placate her for the time being. Hell, even holding his hand; as simple that was, would do just fine. Hands that were so much larger than her own, she noticed. And not for the first time, either. Strong fingers stemming from a large palm that was hotter than most.
Sasuke's blood burned through his skin and seeped into your own pores when you were pressed against him. Not too blistering to be uncomfortable, but definitely noticeable. A thermogenic effect she had ignored when their bodies were cooling on the sheets months ago. She wondered briefly if it would be awkward sleeping next to him in the warmer summer months. When the nights could get humid and sticky.
Would she try to move away?
Or seize the opportunity to bask in the balmy heat no matter how torrid it was, because-
Sakura mentally hit the breaks… swallowing thickly as her eyes fluttered up to catch his gaze before turning away.
Eyes that dark, should not shine that bright.
"Hi."
His deep salutation sounded closer than she was prepared for and her averted eyes widened a fraction. Bonus points to her for not jumping out of her skin. Biting back nerves, she responded in turn.
"Hi."
And both of their delayed greetings sounded soft, even to her own ears. Damnit... she was too grown to be daydreaming about a guy, specifically if said guy was sitting right there next to her.
Sakura could still feel his eyes on her and shifted in the seat. Her toes curled slightly as she became nervous at her own inability to keep her more... deviant thoughts in check. Trying to taper them down was becoming harder and harder these days. And that was a very dangerous thing for someone like herself who was too expressive for their own good. Besides, she still had to solidify exactly what she was looking for with wanting to spend time with him.
Was she even looking for anything at all?
And what about him and his intentions? She could think of one or two things he might be interested in, but...
In the end, it left her with more questions than answers. It really drove home how careful she should be around him. At least until she figured some things out. Undoubtedly, it did not stop her heart from picking up a beat or two in her chest. Focusing, the cadency continued with strong beats but continued on for a different reason...
He was still looking at her.
Sakura could feel his dark eyes lingering on her form as she kept her own averted, gazing out the windshield before looking down. She was running out of time to compose herself and a small hand came up to brush against her industrial piercing, hoping her hair was covering her ears. The cartilage must be painted with color by now with how hot she was feeling.
'Dah fuck? Pull yourself together and at least try to act normal. And stop fidgeting!'
Her eyes finally rose from her lap as Sasuke reached down and grabbed something from the cup holder, raising it between them.
'Oh.'
She was so preoccupied that she completely spaced as to why he was here in the first place. Sakura's eyes brightened in pure excitement as her own hand extended.
It was at that moment, she realized just how quiet it was around them, in their little bubble. There currently was no music playing, and Akumaru had settled down in the back for a quick nap. So in the silence, as she reached for the coffee that was much appreciated...
Her stomach took the opportunity to let out an angry growl.
She winced.
And he gave her a dirty look.
"Have you eaten?"
She winced again, shying from eye contact for the second time. Avoiding it, of course. The decoration on the cup looked really, really interesting all of a sudden.
"...What?"
"Food. Have you had anything to eat today?"
It was supposed to be a question, but she easily picked up the accusation in his tone. Her eyes narrowed, not wanting a fight, but sure as hell ready to give one. There wasn’t a need to be so defensive, she’d think later. For now, she was not one to easily back down. Even if he was hot as fuck.
"Yes-"
She extended an arm to reach for the hot brew but really, she should have known better. Nothing regarding Sasuke Uchiha would ever be that easy.
"When?"
The beautiful dark grey iris she was always charmed by, trapped her for a second. However, she was quick to move again on principle alone...
"This morning..." She bit out, ignoring how she managed to sway to his will and answer. It didn't matter, she thought, moving to try again.
"......"
He held it just out of reach without a word, and if she wasn't afraid he'd accidentally spill it everywhere, she'd deck him good.
Or... at least nudge him in the arm for being so cruel. She could smell the sweet scent drifting towards her and he was being a big, fat jerk right now.
"I had a smoothie for breakfast earlier, ok? Now can I please have my coffee?"
"You mean your crack?" A smirk had spread across his face, mistaking the deep craving she had today for a caffeine addiction.
Sakura's fist clenched, a knuckle popping.
He brought the drink in front of her, and she would never know if it was because of mercy... or self-preservation. Taking a deep breath, she allowed the vanilla to seep into her pores as her fingers gripped the warm cup. She didn't bother to turn and sit properly before she took her first sip, still facing him when her eyes closed, and letting out a soft moan of contentment.
Sasuke's eyes followed one swallow, then another… before finally cutting his eyes away. He grabbed his own drink from the cup holder, grateful to have something for his suddenly parched mouth. She smiled and ultimately settled back, giddy, and happy now that she'd gotten her prize.
"So... what are you in the mood for?"
Sakura opened her eyes and tilted her head in his direction.
"Hmmm?"
While he did not enjoy repeating himself, there was a lack of annoyance in his tone.
"Where do you want to go for lunch? Pick something, or I will. And make sure it's something good too because you will eat every bite... especially if I'm paying." The smirk had returned on his face... softer this time. Hiding it behind his own cup, he took another sip.
The corner of Sakura's mouth quirked and she mirrored his expression... before reaching for her seatbelt.
✧･ﾟ* : * ﾟ･✧
"-and if they were going to change their minds, surely you would have shared that information by now."
The wallpaper that stretched across the back western panel never failed to catch his attention whenever he visited. Arriving at the door to the spacious office, the man couldn't help but glance to the left at the piece he'd considered more art than décor. It was a replica of the world map with a solid black background. Slate grey lines outlined every continent and body of ocean.
"Well, maybe you should speak with Mr. Andrew Williamson at the downtown branch. The little shit would sell his elderly mother to gutter stock if it meant getting-"
Leaning against the door frame, he tuned out the call. Instead, his eyes followed along the surface... tracing the names of the continents and countries etched along the surface. The calligraphy was uniquely outlined in silver glittery ink, causing the reflection to sparkle like faded diamonds. Numbers lined the borders, mapping coordinates to places he'd never been…
Places he'd probably never see.
"-how the hell should I know? That's YOUR job. A career that should be reconsidered, if things progress the way they have-"
Every moment spent admiring the craftsmanship reminded him that he really should take a vacation, while simultaneously mocking him for even bringing up such a thought.
"-don't call me until it's done, understood?"
The phone slamming down into the plastic cradle dispersed any musings or pipe dreams.
Seems like that unfortunate phone call had wrapped up.
The figure leaning just inside the doorway straightened slowly. He adjusted his pose, folding his arms as his booted feet shifted. Opening his mouth, he was stopped by a cutting gesture from across the room.
Seated behind the large oak desk, the other man present raised an eccentric hand in the air, halting any dialogue. The other hand was directed towards his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. Sunlight beaming from the window glinted against the gold band of his watch when his pressed cuff pulled higher on his wrist. Grunting, he voiced the displeasure that his deep frown lines could not hide.
"If this is more bad news, I'm afraid I have very little patience for it, at the moment."
"Hmph. Quite the opposite, in fact."
The dark-haired man behind the desk lowered his hands to peer at the doorway. Standing, he removed his reading glasses when the figure at the door flicked his wrist in a come hither motion.
Moving to stand at the entrance they both looked down the hall to another figure waiting at the far end. The dark-haired man turned back to his business partner with raised brows.
"Karashi-… something or another." He answered easily, inclining his head. "But he goes by the name 'Chef'."
"And why would I care about some kid named Chef?"
The youth in question was unaware of the pair of eyes on him as he stood waiting at the end of the hall. His phone kept changing color as the screen flashed while loud music could be heard humming from his earpods.
"Because he's the answer to that little problem we had. Remember the group that hacked the app? Well, Karashi here was a part of that group. Wasn't hard to find… little shits these days can't help bragging. Will tell anyone who wants to listen. So, I thought… what better person to track down exactly what happened than someone responsible for the mess in the first place?"
The dark-haired man squared his shoulders, nostrils flaring with his disgruntlement. Pondering over the statement, hard onyx eyes looked away to regard the unsuspecting topic of conversation.
"If what you say is true… then why shouldn't I put a bullet through his meddling skull now, and be done with it? Since he's the reason my money is missing." Their voices were kept low, but the teen was none the wiser.
"Weren't you the one who just cautioned against more killing?" The visitor contended.
"Yes, I did. And if I remember correctly, I'm sure that was mentioned before you… took care of Hidan." The dark-haired man deadpanned.
"And what exactly would you have me do? Seal him in some deep hole, in the middle of a magical hidden forest? Imprisoned?"
Sometimes the best option was to give someone a... permanent, good night’s sleep. Sometimes it was the only option. And he would swear by that, as long as it rang true. Albeit, he was willing to take into consideration the other's wisdom and refrained from rolling his eyes.
"I would warn for more caution, regarding our future moves. That includes taking care of problems, that took care of other problems. The last thing we need is to leave any trails behind. One mess is enough to deal with."
An eerie pause floated as a shadow cast, turning the steel gaze into something more ominous. Eyes focusing on the teen, he continued.
"After this one... of course. But only if needed."
Both men nodded, their gazes meeting briefly in understanding.
The tall, dark-haired figure glanced down the hall a final time, before returning to his office.
He needed a fucking Advil... and a shot of something strong.
✧･ﾟ* : * ﾟ･✧
She could not remember the last time she'd eaten ramen.
Funny thing was, she had not had a craving for it in ages... but something about today made her palate crave something steamy…
Salty…
Familiar.
Maybe it was in the way Sasuke had fussed over her eating… or lack thereof. The concern, quickly followed by trying to shove something edible down her hatch, well... it was something that reminded her of another person...
Of a different place and another time…
And before she knew it, a shadowy figure came to mind, in the midst of it all. That beaming smile… so full of concern and care. Bright enough to ease the sting as he'd often berated her wacky eating habits.
"You need to eat… Sakura-chan-"
Sakura mentally shook herself from thoughts that made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.
She tried clearing away the memories along with the accompanying voices as fast as they manifested. Trying to save herself from the impending heartache that line of thinking would surely bring. Now was not the time to be getting sentimental and teary-eyed.
Especially in the presence of her current company.
It was easy to pivot, matching the grin Sasuke threw her way. He continued on with the conversation without interruption, and she perked up to tune in and listen once again. There wasn't a valid reason she should be distracted, not when he was here. The corner of her eyes crinkled as her smile widened and she found herself lost in his eyes.
So piercing...
Mesmerizing... stealing away her attention and she actively gave in, wanting to lean forward just a bit, if only to get closer.
This was nice.
Just being here at that moment with him. So carefree and chill... it was everything she needed right now. Like a balm on a wound she wasn't aware of.
So...
Soothing... and peaceful.
Like a warm blanket you wanted to snuggle under during a chilly night. A feeling she had not felt in a very long time, and she wished this moment would last just a bit longer. But she needed to come back down to earth at some point.
"Thank you for the food, I haven't had ramen in forever."
She drew a palm across her full tummy, her fingers running across her wool houndstooth mini skirt.
Sasuke's chest rose and fell with a snicker, recounting that this was the cheapest date he'd ever been on. Admittedly, the ramen food truck was the most delicious either had in a while, though.
Wait… this was a date?
The question slipped out and he turned towards her… his mouth twitching in amusement.
"I don't know, is it?"
Sakura released an unladylike snort, folding her arms.
"You never asked me out… so no." She could be very stubborn when she wanted to be. A certified brat, if left unchecked.
The hand resting on the steering wheel moved so he could rest his forearm on the midrest between them. Several glossy strands of ink fell into one eye as he turned towards her. “… ’s that so…?” He trailed off.
Sakura felt compelled to lick her lips and his greedy eyes followed the movement. Her forearm brushed closer to his when she slackened her folded arms, tilting her head. Meeting his gaze she felt an amorous heat underneath her that had nothing to do with the heated seats.
Dark lashes broke eye contact as he moved forward, but her own eyes stayed stubbornly open in surprise as his nose bumped against hers, her pupils dilating with the soft brush.
He inhaled her sharp gasp when their lips finally touched. A small sweep of sweltering heat that was barely anything crept between their lips. Shallow but still so real. Lascivious need prompted her to deepen it, but he leaned away to open his eyes. Sending her a teasing glance, draped in want… he licked his lips. Tasting the 'hardly-a-kiss' around an imp of a smile.
It made her feel daring, knowing her earlier thoughts were not so crazy after all. Daring enough to lock gazes with him before she took his bottom lip between her teeth, taking advantage of the reduced distance to scrape the soft flesh between ivory. A hint of tongue was meant to dampen the sting after the fact… but, oh... it just made things worse.
It was her turn to swallow his gasp as her onslaught brought them closer together. The intimate press was everything she'd been craving since at least this morning…
And she wasn't talking about the coffee.
He appeased her, tilting his head in just the right angle to take over. Her hand came to touch his angular jaw as he pressed his tongue to her lips, sighing when she let him in.
His kisses were as sweet as she remembered them, with just the right amount of recklessness to make her fingers curl up into his hair, moaning into every savory caress. Receiving another taste she wondered what his reaction would be if she slid into the seat with him to remove all distance and smiled. Her inner self was always more daring than she'd ever cared to be in reality. It didn’t often make an appearance but seemed to be completely on board with the impromptu makeout session. And dammit... she knew she promised not to be greedy but he was the one pushing closer to her now, completely dominating the heated lip lock. She followed his lead, softening against him at every point of contact.
A small whine curled up between them and Sasuke broke away first, eyes peeking open to study her. Their sharp breaths sounded around them as they gasped for air, heat slowly clearing. It took awhile for her to gather her wits, breathing harshly along with him. She shook her head as her voice spoke up, scratchy and low but-
"That wasn't me."
Another second went by long enough for their minds to clear from the sensual fog and to mutually place the sound as they drifted further apart, eyes darting to the back seat of the warm interior.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"
The driver's door was opened and closed faster then she could fully process just what the hell was going on.
Sasuke circled around the back, before coming beside the rear passenger door. The heavy metal was whipped open so rapidly her hair stirred around her head, even though she was sitting in the front seat. A jingle of chains and another curse before the door was closed firmly.
Sakura turned in her seat to look out the dark tinted window as Sasuke stood a short distance away, Akamaru squatting next to a tree to do his business.
A tinkering laugh sprung free before her hand could cover her mouth. She hoped he was too far away to hear anything... the windows were up after all.
But the sharp glare Sasuke threw over his shoulder let her know that she'd failed.
End Chapter
✧･ﾟ* : * ﾟ･✧
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
- ﾟ･*･ﾟ- Chap 1 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ- Chap 2 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ- Chap 3 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ- Chap 4 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ-
1 note
·
View note
Text
Out of Time Chapter 31 is finally here!
Been a while, but for anyone still wanting updates, here is one for you.
Chapter 31: Places to be, people to absorb
Story Summary: Vegeta and his eight year old son Trunks go back in time to warn the past of the Androids' arrival. When the machine needs repairing the two of them are stuck. At least the past has good food! Can Vegeta ensure his son's birth, defeat the Androids, and save the world?
Recap: Last chapter, the androids arrived, along with Cell, and Young!Vegeta showed up, ready to kick ass.
Chapter Summary: Young!Vegeta takes on Cell. Eighteen complicated things. Some friends from the past show up.
Relief washed through Vegeta as he reached his son and checked him over. Trunks was fine. Other than ruffling his straight hair and giving the boy a light coating of dust, the blast hadn’t touched him. Vegeta turned to his younger self, a thrill rushing through him when he felt the power radiating from his ki signature. He’d not only attained the legendary power, but honed it. How his younger self had done it in such a short time, Vegeta didn’t know, but he suddenly felt less doubtful about their chances.
Vegeta drew in a sharp breath as a small figure dropped from the air and landed next to the young Vegeta, crouching into a fight stance that looked eerily similar to his own. It was difficult to see the them clearly. The sun had dropped, casting a red glow behind them that shadowed their faces, but Vegeta knew that ki signature - and it was one he’d never expected to feel again.
“We just defeated an empire,” the new fighter boasted. “You’re just a green bug waiting to be crushed.” Then she burst into golden flames alongside Vegeta’s younger self.
Read more on FFic or Ao3, or keep reading below the fold.
“Seria,” Trunks said, the name barely coming out as a whisper. And then he let out a whoop, jumping and fist pumping the air before flying over to her, nearly knocking her down with a hug.
“Did you think you could start the fight without us?” Ara asked as she landed beside them on the outcrop, dressed in full battle armour and holding an energy gun that was almost as large as her.
“You’re alive,” Vegeta said, proud that his flat tone didn’t portray just how relieved he felt.
Ara of course wasn’t fooled, and she flipped her long yellow braid over her shoulder with a grin. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, asshole.”
Vegeta finally allowed himself to crack a smile. “I should have known you are too tough to kill by merely blowing up a planet.”
“Hopefully we don’t need to blow up a planet to kill this creep.” Ara frowned in the direction of the insectoid. “Your younger self tells me he has a family here now. Let’s slaughter our enemies then you can pretend to be interested while your younger self regails you with tales of how we defeated Zersa.”
“I can’t wait,” Vegeta said with a dry chuckle. Then he followed her lead and flew over to the other Saiyans.
“You may as well sit this one out,” the younger Vegeta said as he landed, barely sparing him a glance. “I’ve got this.”
Vegeta clenched his teeth in annoyance. Had he always been this arrogant? “He dropped Kakarot like he was nothing. It’s going to take all of us to bring him down.”
“Please.” His younger self rolled his eyes. “Kakarot is nothing. This is what I’ve been training for.” He set Vegeta a grim look. “Get in my way, and I’ll take you down too.”
“That… monster killed my brother.”
Vegeta actually jumped as he heard Eighteen’s voice behind him. Her lack of ki meant he’d forgotten she was even there. The moment he set eyes on her, he felt a dark, writhing fury as the memory of Bulma, covered in blood in his arms, came flooding back. “He deserved that end, as do you,” he hissed, clenching his fists to keep from lashing out.
Eighteen screwed up her nose. “Geez, what did I do to get you so worked up? I’m going to take this green freak down, and then you and I can have it out, okay?”
Vegeta blinked in the face of her confusion. It wasn’t actually her that had killed Bulma, he reminded himself. It was another version in another timeline. Still, pummelling her into the ground would give him great pleasure.
“If you’re all finished arguing,” the creature said with an air of boredom as he brushed imaginary dirt off his green, speckled chest, “can we get this over with? I have places to be, people to absorb, you know.”
---
“Are you getting this, Dad?” Bulma grinned at her father through the video screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she wrote a script to decode the data.
“This is incredible.” Her father’s voice crackled through the tinny speaker, and he smiled back at her, readjusting the glasses slipping down his nose. “The sensors are collecting their vital signs, and analysing their genetic makeup. You were right, they are at least partly biological.”
“They aren’t in combat though.” Bulma finished the script and glared at the results. “We aren’t going to get the data we need if we don’t see them in action. Keep looking into what we’ve got. I’ll get what we need.”
She shut the computer lid, ending the call with her father, then glanced at Yamcha, pasting her best pleading smile on.
“No,” he said immediately.
“We need to get to the others. Convince them to engage the androids in combat so we can get the data we need.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Bulma scowled, giving up all pretence of being nice to Yamcha. “How cute. You think I’m asking permission to go?” She stood up, picked up her gun, and pointed it at him. “You saw what damage this baby did to the android. How well do you think you’ll take it?”
“Whoa!” Yamcha raised his hands in surrender. “B, think about this. It’s a battlefield out there.”
“They aren’t fighting,” Bulma pointed out. “But we need them to. Now, you can either stay here, or come with me, or I can shoot you and save you the worry of deciding.”
“Listen, this isn’t-“
Bulma flicked off the safety and aimed.
“Okay, okay! I’ll come with you!”
Smirking, she lowered the weapon and strapped it to her side, then climbed onto her bike. “Get on then. No flying, we don’t want your ki warning anyone.”
“We sneak in, get the intel from the others, give them ours, then get out,” Yamcha said, climbing onto the motorcycle behind her. “Deal?”
Bulma kicked up the kick stand in reply, then engaged the throttle, speeding them towards the city.
---
Vegeta had sensed her pathetic power level the moment he’d landed back on Earth. What she was doing so close to the battleground, he had no idea, and he shouldn’t - no, didn’t - care. The woman could look after herself and unlike every other Earthing here (and he counted his older counterpart amongst them) she wasn’t an idiot.
Kakarot still lay twitching on the ground, alive but clearly drained by the odd green creature. Vegeta had seen a lot of weird alien life in his travels, and this scaly monster certainly wasn’t the most repulsive he’d come across, but it’s ki made him... uncomfortable. Like he had bile in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. It wasn’t a unified entity, but rather lots of ki signatures all battling each other out in odd harmony. Clearly the creature absorbed its victims, gaining their energy, but Vegeta didn’t understand how it wasn’t tearing itself apart from its own energy.
“Don’t interfere,” Vegeta said to Seria, knowing that she’d wear a disappointed pout without having to look. She’d do what he said though - he’d trained her well in the last few months. “Stay here.” He didn’t wait for her affirmative response, and certainly didn’t bother attempting to convince the others to do the same. Instead, he shot a blast at Eighteen - not one that would kill her, but one that would give him a head start - and then flew straight at the green creature, slamming his fists into it and propelling them both into a distant building.
“That tickled,” the monster said, delivering a retaliatory blow, but Vegeta caught the wheeze in his breath and grinned.
“Listen up, vomit-breath,” Vegeta said, grabbing the creatures tail before it could spike him, then using the grip to fling him into the ground. “I don’t know who you are, but the only one killing Kakarot is going to be me. And I’m going to be doing that right after I’ve killed you and the blonde bitch.”
“You think you can defeat the mighty Cell?” The creature burbled with laughter.
“Talking about yourself in third person is the first sign of crazy.” Vegeta grabbed his throat and squeezed, a thrill of pleasure rushing through him as Cell’s breath hissed out and his eyes began to bug.
“You… would… know,” Cella gasped out, swinging his tail around and forcing Vegeta to dodge to avoid getting punctured. Cell dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, his eyes looking wildly from side to side for an escape.
Vegeta smirked and landed in front of him. “Ready to die?”
“This is hardly a fair fight.” Cell took a step back towards to crumbled skyscraper behind him. “If you let me absorb the other android I might actually be a worthwhile challenge for you.”
Vegeta cocked his head, pretending to consider. “And I suppose you’ll absorb her power, become twice as strong, and kill us all.”
“Ah…” Cell clicked his tongue, his beak-like mouth curving in the corners. “You are afraid you won’t be able to defeat me. Understandable, really. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that you failed to defeat Son Goku in combat, and I just dealt with him easily enough in this form.”
Despite knowing that Cell was goading him, Vegeta couldn’t help but bristle with anger. He was quite sure that he could take down Cell and the remaining android without any issues but he had an overwhelming need to prove that he could. A need that had absolutely nothing to do with Bulma proclaiming that she knew it would be him to destroy the androids, and everything to do with… something else. There was definitely another reason. Besides, the girl killed Bulma in the other timeline, so it-
Something hard slammed into his back, and he went sailing past Cell, straight through the broken building, and landed headfirst into the fifth floor of the one behind it. With a groan - he’d barely had his ki up, stupid of him but he’d thought his enemy was in front of him - Vegeta pushed a broken fluorescent light off himself, brushed off the coating of white plaster now covering him, and looked around, trying to gain his bearings. Cell had moved across the desolate city, and fighting him in furious hand to hand combat was the blond android. The one Cell intended to absorb to double his power.
Vegeta powered up to Super Saiyan, ready to pull the idiot girl away from Cell, when he saw Cell’s tail open up wide at the end and cover the android’s head.
“Well, shit.” Vegeta sped towards them, but he already knew it was too late. It looked like he was going to get his challenge, whether he wanted it or not.
---
When Bulma saw the Z Fighters clustered around two strangers - one small, obviously alien woman with flawless dark green-brown skin and a badass gun that put Bulma’s to shame, and a small girl who looked normal enough except for some facial scarring and her obvious glowing Super Saiyan hair - she forgot all about stealth, and skidded her motorbike to a stop next to them.
“Who’s fighting the androids?” Bulma demanded, pulling out her phone screen as she dropped her bike on poor Yamcha’s unsuspecting foot. “I came to tell you to engage them to improve my dataset but someone is already doing that.” She looked around the group, suddenly noticing that Goku looked a little worse for wear, leaning oddly on Krillen’s short shoulders. She didn’t fail to notice that there wasn’t anyone missing from their group.
“Vegeta is fighting the weird bug creature,” Gohan said. “Or was. I think the girl android is fighting him now.”
“Vegeta…” Bulma set her gaze on Vegeta and Trunks. “The younger, I assume?”
At Vegeta’s sharp nod, Bulma pursed her lips together and dug into her pockets for the bag of senzu beans. The odd mix of joy that he’d actually come back, and fury that he’d dared to come back was strange, but she pushed it down and focussed on the matter at hand.
“Here.” She threw Goku a bean, and he he caught it neatly despite his injuries. “Now, on the off chance that my dickhead baby daddy doesn’t do the job right, I’m getting as much information on these creatures as possible. Wait a minute.” Bulma stared at the screen in disbelief. “There was two of them a moment ago. Now there’s only one.”
“He’s absorbed Eighteen.” Vegeta clenched his jaw before continuing. “His power… it’s grown exponentially.”
Goku’s eyes widened. “Even Vegeta won’t be able to take him down now.”
---
He was definitely not going to be able to take Cell down now. Vegeta realised this as he crashed through four buildings thanks to a punch that had broken five of his ribs. And that was after the kick to the head that had made him drop his guard in the first place.
Suddenly, Cell was standing over him again, before hoisting him up by the front of his armour. Vegeta felt his head loll back as he struggled to gather his wits about him. Blood poured into his eyes from a gash on his forehead and the hacking sounds he made as he breathed in and out were definitely not a good sign.
“Ah Vegeta,” Cell said with a dramatic sigh. “I could kill you right now, I suppose, but you are so much fun to play with. I’ll tell you what. Let’s go see your friends and play with them too.”
Vegeta groaned and swung a punch at Cell’s jaw. In his new form, Cell blocked it with his free hand and let out a low chuckle and he squeezed Vegeta’s fist tighter and tighter, the fine bones of the Saiyan’s fingers crunching beneath the thick white hands of the creature. Vegeta swallowed a cry of pain, only letting out a hissing breath as Cell released his hand.
Cell took to the sky, dragging Vegeta limply along with him before dropping him from a height. He hit the ground hard, all the air escaping his lungs, and Vegeta started coughing, blood splattering on the ground. He tried to get up, sensing the ki of all the Z fighters there next to him, but he couldn’t move, not even when cool, gentle hands cupped his face and he knew that despite being the least stupid person on this planet, she was somehow idiotic enough to be there, with him... and would now probably die because of him.
---
When Bulma had imagined her reunion with Vegeta (the younger), it had mostly involved her yelling at him. Maybe getting in a slap or two if she was quick enough. Definitely a blast with her gun. Still, in none of her imaginings had she thought he’d be thrown at her feet, covered in blood and clearly dying. She barely noticed the peculiar insect-like man who flew down after him, and instead rushed straight to Vegeta’s side, trying to assess the extent of the damage.
“What were you thinking, taking him on alone,” Bulma hissed at him, trying to blink back tears, but failing as they streamed down her cheeks. She drew him into her arms, knowing that the recovery position would have been better but desperately needing to hold him. She touched his face carefully, trying to work out where all the blood was coming from. “You stupid, thick-headed, moron.”
Vegeta blinked up at her, drawing in a wheezing breath, and recognition flickered in his gaze. Far from the angry taunting glares he’s given her in the one video comms they’d had after he’d left, the look he gave was slightly lost, almost tender, and reminiscent of how he’d looked at her during their visits to the lakehouse.
Bulma, he mouthed, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.
“Vegeta!” The strange Saiyan girl sank to her knees on the other side of the prince, grabbing his arm and shaking it, babbling in an oddly melodic alien language.
“Calm down,” Bulma snapped at her, even though panic was rising in her own throat as she frantically dug into her pocket for a senzu.
She was about to crush it and shove it in Vegeta’s mouth when she felt Yamcha’s hand on her arm.
“Don’t,” he whispered, nodding at the creature, who was currently declaring his desire to destroy Earth in some boring monologue. “He doesn’t know we have them.”
Bulma hesitated, trying to calculate exactly how long Vegeta would live. Knowing his freaky Saiyan genes, he’d probably survive a while longer. He was still breathing, although most of what he was inhaling was his own blood.
“So you see, not one of you has the strength to defeat the mighty Cell now,” the creature was saying. “I may as well kill you all now to be done with it.”
“But that’s not what you want,” Bulma blurted out as Cell began to draw in energy for a ki blast.
“No?” Cell paused and fixed his gaze on her. “Any what is it that you think I want?”
“Uh…” Bulma had only been half listening to his long speech, but she knew his type. Her and the rest of the gang had been fighting them since she was a teenager. “Recognition! You want the whole planet to know how mighty you are.”
Cell raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth curving. “I’m listening…”
Bulma thought fast. “If you kill us all now, that’s it, all your fun is over. No one will care that you are the strongest because they’ll all be too busy running for their lives. But if you held a contest, in say, two weeks, Earth could send its mightiest warriors to challenge you, along with the television crews required to broadcast to the entire planet. Then, when you defeat us, the whole world will know that you are the mightiest.”
As Cell stared at her, saying nothing, Bulma swallowed, worried that she may have oversold it. The Z Fighters were looking at her as if she was crazy. Well, all except Goku who looked positively thrilled at the concept.
Cell’s face broke out into a grin, and he began to laugh. “What a wonderful idea! I say, have you given any thought into becoming a villain yourself? You have the perfect mind for it.”
“I… uh…”
“You have three days.” Cell interrupted her stuttering. “That should be enough time to get the camera crews and a venue sorted. And then, the Cell games can begin!”
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rainbow 6 OCs
I!!!!! Finally!!!!!! Finished!!!!! My!!!! Rainbow 6 Siege OCs!!!!!!!!!!! I’m really happy how this kinda turned out jifjfi my new babies i love them. I’m gonna have so much fun implementing them in r6s universe lmao i’m gonna post my first (r6) fic about them soon lol
Also i cant draw shit so i made their (casual-look ofc cuz cant find military-chara sheet thing) character design using Picrew (this website is really great btw) so dont blame me if theyre looking too anime-y jdojofjfo
More info about OCs below!!!!
1. Beruang (’Bear’ in Indonesian)
Real Name: Lukman Susilo Sanjaya
Age: 37 (As of 2019)
Organization: Kopassus
Position: Attacker
Birthplace: Tegal, Central Java, Indonesia
Date of Birth: January 12, 1982
Height: 5'10'' (1.79m)
Weight: 177lbs (80kg)
Armor: Medium
Speed: Medium
Appearance:
He wears standard Kopassus uniform but his face is covered by black half-mask and shades. In his free time, he usually wears bland t-shirt and sport pants. He’s kinda hairy, has a little bit of stubble and scar under his right eye.
(Casual look:)
Personality:
Serious 24/7. Difficult to approach since he only gives necessary/short answers if asked. He never seeks company of other people, and sometimes can be oblivious about things not related to his job.
Appears stoic, but it’s not because he doesn't have any feelings. He just doesn't know or can't express his emotion to other people except Jasmine. Lowkey insecure about himself, like thinking he's 'not good enough' and people deserves someone better than him.
It's hard for him to have a close relationship with other people other than Kirana because of his insecurity as well his oblivious and stoic personalities. It's not impossible, just hard and take a lot of work before someone could call Lukman their friend or even boyfriend.
Special Gadget:
Bear Knuckles - It's basically a pair of gloves shaped like bear paws, used to further increase the power of Lukman's fist (It should be noted that his punch is already strong before he put on the gloves), allowing him to break any surfaces (except steel, for now at least). Yes, it's technically like Sledge's hammer but it's his fist instead lol. Punching a person without holding back with this will likely put them unconscious or heavily injured.
Unfortunately, it's powered by battery and can only be used a few times before it runs out. It must be charged before he can use it.
Short Biography:
As a son of the current Major General of Indonesian's Special Forces Kopassus, Beruang's life was revolved around how to be just like his father. With his incredible strength and agility, coupled with knowledge of various martial arts, a fight without a weapon is what he shines the most. Calm and obedient, Beruang is one of excellent soldier Kopassus had, a War Machine ready to serve under his country.
Psychological Report:
Suffers from a condition where he can't express his emotion and low self-esteem where he claimed that he's never good enough. It is believed that harsh training and upbringings from the environment he lived in was the cause of those problems. While he's good at his job, his social skill is very lacking, and he himself appears to be distancing himself with his teammates other than one person.
2. Jasmine
Real Name: Kirana Tunggadewi Pitaloka
Age: 26 (As of 2019)
Organization: Kopassus
Position: Defender
Birthplace: Malang, East Java, Indonesia
Date of Birth: July 18, 1993
Height: 5'5'' (1.65m)
Weight: 131 lbs (59kg)
Armor: Light
Speed: Fast
Appearances:
wears standard Kopassus uniform and her face is also covered with black half-mask and shades. In her free time, she usually wears colorful clothes, along with this black-chocker thing she always wear. She has short, neck-length straight short hair.
(Casual look:)
Personality:
She has two personas. A facade she used to manipulates others: Kind, supportive, and positive. And then her real self, which so far only Six and Lukman knows: Lazy, vengeful, manipulative, and cold. She loves gossip, and although usually lazy, she will put a lot of effort into works that beneficial/important to her (such as maintaining her face around other operators or learning 'perfect english' before joining Rainbow).
But, Kirana is loyal and helpful towards people she thinks as her friends. If they're in trouble, you bet Kirana will try to cheer them up or maybe even hurt those who hurt her friends. She can be easily stressed, which surfaced as paranoia and mild anxiety. She also has abandonment issues, but no one know about this.
Due to her upbringings and her job as a spy, she would do anything to obtain important information she ordered to. Like for example, if someone ask her for intercourse in exchange of information, she would do it as long that information is very important and worth the deal (if not, she wouldn't do it and if they lied about it, she would kill them on site). She doesn't believe in and sometimes even disgusted with people in romantic relationship (like dating/engaged/married/etc), especially those who is in relationship with their workmates, but she's down for one night stand and such.
(It's not impossible for her to be in romantic relationship, but it is very hard to tie her in it)
Special Gadget:
White Petals - Five small gadgets shaped together to look like jasmine flower. There's two set of this, one that function like Kapkan's gadget: Putting it on the side of a doors/windows/any openings and watch as everyone that walk through it get electrocuted. It's strong electric surge could even renders someone unconscious. Unfortunately, people could just jumped over/crawled under the gadgets to avoid it when it activates. But the gadget itself is very small, so it can be difficult to spot.
The second set of White Petals is a gadgets that works kinda like smoke grenade, usually used by Jasmine when she have to run. When thrown, it filled the entire room with a special, thick smokes that not even drone could see through. Unfortunately, it last only for a couple of seconds.
Short Biography:
Born and raised in a family where her parents worked as spies, naturally Jasmine herself was shaped to be one. Claimed to be one of the best spy her country ever had, she never failed to complete her mission in obtaining and gathering information. While her firearms skill is lacking compared to other operators, her skill of espionage, her cunning thinking, and her good self-defense skill prove herself to be a spy to be reckoned with.
Psychological Report:
Her facade personality seems to be a defense mechanism she put up to make herself appears benign and easy to communicate with, which what she needed for her job so she would be least suspicious. On rare cases someone's grow suspicious of her, she would be stressed which resort to anxiety and paranoia. Regardless, she doesn't have any issues in engaging in large group of individuals and offers genuine help and advice to people she care about.
3. Angel
Real Name: Florence Marie Walanda Tambayong
Age: 31 (As of 2019)
Organization: Indonesian National Armed Forces (Land)
Position: Defender
Birthplace: North Minahasa, North Sulawesi, Indonesia
Date of Birth: April 29, 1988
Height: 5'7'' (1.70m)
Weight: 143 lbs (65kg)
Armor: Light
Speed: Fast
Appearance:
Wearing standard Indonesian Army uniform, also wears crucifix-necklace. In her free time, she usually wears long-sleeves black/gray/white/pink shirts with silly designs (like some Indonesian words or random bootleg characters) or sweaters and capri pants. If she's on duty treating operators in the medical facility, she wears lab coat, surgical mask, and white gloves. Also her skin is darker compared to the other two ops.
(Casual look:)
Personality:
Brutally honest but also cheerful and friendly. She likes to socialize/interact with everyone, joining any kind of 'fun' activities, and laugh the loudest at jokes that’s not even funny. She cares a lot about her teammates' condition, so much to the fact that if she ever see any kind of injury or sickness, she will 'fix' them. She doesn't care if they refuse her treatment, she WILL treat them with or without their permission.
She's very dedicated and focus on her works. Even if she lose her limbs, as long she's still has consciousness and able to move, she will try her damnest to treat injuries and sickness.
Special Gadget:
Nightingale - A first aid kit she named after a figure she idolizes. Said kit is filled with numerous vitamins, boosters, bandages, medicines, scissors, needles, etc. It's equipped with every medical stuff you can imagine, people wonders how the hell can all that stuffs are stored in it. The gadget itself isn't very special, but Angel's adrenaline rush make her performs medical operations perfectly whenever she uses this kit on someone, so it's more like a mixture of a very-equipped first aid kit and Angel's excellent determination to save lives, just like Florence Nightingale.
In game, this could heals or revives operators to full-health with additional 30 health points. Unfortunately, it can only be used thrice before it ran out.
Short Biography:
Her involvement in medical world began at University of Indonesia where she eventually got her medical degree. After that, she worked as a nurse in a local hospital before she joined Indonesian Red Cross Society and eventually served as medical staff in Indonesian Army. With her excellent comprehension of human anatomy, she vowed to erase sickness and pain from everyone.
Psychological Report:
With her optimism and carefree attitude, Angel has no trouble making friends in every place she stay. However, trauma about her failure to nurse injured civilians back to health in 2009 Sumatra Earthquake took a toll in her mental state. This resulted in her strong dedication and commitment in her job, which usually would be a good thing to have but it made her force anyone with injuries or sickness, no matter how small it is, to be nursed by her. She doesn't take no for an answer, in fear of her past experiences. It is best for one to approach her in a healthy condition.
Trivia:
- Jasmine studied in Airlangga University and got bachelor's degree in Psychology, Angel studied in University of Indonesia and got (obviously) medical degree, while Beruang studied in military academy.
- Jasmine speaks Japanese to some extent, like she doesn't know proper grammar for each situation (Japanese has different grammars for any situation, like speaking in workplace or towards elders for example) but she can understand and communicate in it. She studied it all by herself, mostly because she's a weeb.
- As said before, Jasmine is a big weeb. She watches a lot of Japanese dramas or animes, also plays a couple of Japanese's mobile games like Fate/Grand Order and Love Live. This is what she mostly do in her free time.
- All of them like spicy food, although Jasmine likes sweet food a little more. As such, if they're cooking a meal you bet it will be spicy as fuck.
- Beruang loves coffee while Jasmine and Angel loves iced tea. Both Beruang and Jasmine doesn't like alcohol, although Jasmine might drink wine or champagne a little, while Angel is open to trying variety of alcohol drinks.
- Jasmine's hobbies includes cooking and gaming, Beruang's hobbies are reading history or watching documentary films, and Angel's hobbies are treating patients and jogging.
- Regarding their sexuality, Beruang is gay (still in the closet, only Jasmine knows). Jasmine's down to have sex with anyone so she’s more of a pansexual, while Angel is straight but dedicates her life to her work so much she doesn't care about romance or sexual activities.
- As said before in his special gadget entry, Beruang is strong. Literally strong, his fist could destroy wood in a second without him putting his gloves on. Although without his gadget, he can't destroy bricks and such (might leave a dent on it though). If angry (which is thankfully unusual), he can't control his power and might break something he hold at the moment.
- As mentioned in his biography, out of various martial arts' learned, Beruang is great at judo and silat. He would use Judo technique the most in a fight, though.
- Beruang thinks of Jasmine as his little sister, while Jasmine thinks of Beruang as either her best friend or a dad. They have close platonic relationship regardless, although Jasmine had a crush on him a while ago (before she knew he's gay).
- While regarding Angel, Jasmine and her dislike each other. Beruang is neutral with Angel, and Angel regards him as a friend.
- Beruang's favorite animals: German shepherd. Jasmine's favorite animal: any cats. Angel's favorite animals: Parrot.
#rainbow six siege#rainbow six siege oc#r6s oc#siege oc#beruang#jasmine#angel#r6s#everyone in r6 fandom: stop with the tags ho#OK SORRY#also im kinda unoriginal about their special gadget im doijdfojdfoifjof
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
The New Guy Pt. 2 - Chen x Reader
summary: Even before Minseok came along, Jongdae’s always had a thing for you.
warnings: sub!chen, dom!reader, humiliation, pain kink, bdsm, some cock torture but not too hard so don’t let that scare you lol
word count: 6.9k
a/n: sorry it took a million years but here’s the sequel you guys wanted! I hope you like it! Link to Pt. 1 is here
Jongdae’s worked here for five years now. Unlike a lot of his peers, he didn’t have to intern in order to work for Tokki Corporation. Surprisingly enough his internet reputation got him the job more so than his official GPA. Back in his college days, Jongdae coded anything from website layouts to viruses, ranging in severity and design, just to keep his belly fed. Over time his popularity surpassed him within the coding community for doing just about anything for money. Sure it wasn’t always good, but he was struggling just like everyone else and had to find a way to make end’s meat. As graduation reared its ugly head, Jongdae realized that in the real world he wouldn’t be able to get by with popularity and occasional payments alone. Before he could even upload his application, he received an email from the Tokki Corporation asking for an interview. Their company had been under cyber attacks lately due to...a bunch of nonsense that he hadn’t really paid attention to honestly. From what he did gather it sounded like easy stuff, child’s play, and would probably only take a couple of hours to correct.
When Jongdae arrived at the corporation’s massive building, he had shakily reported that he was there for an interview. Being fresh out of college Jongdae only had ill-fitting slacks and a baggy button down from a local Good Will to wear. The secretary had eyed him incredulously, probably chalking him up to be another throw-away-hire, and made a quick phone call. His interview took place at the highest office in the building, overlooking what seemed like the entirety of Seoul judging by how high it was. A man sat behind a large glass desk, back facing the city as if it meant nothing, and looked over Jongdae’s printed out resume. Jongdae stood there like an idiot, looking around the office in awe and wondering if everyone’s office looked like this here. Despite the regality of said office, he couldn’t help but notice the small rabbits littered around. Rabbit plushies and figurines, ranging in size, littered around the book case and desk and even the guy’s writing utensils.The man, probably the interview, looked at him pointedly until Jongdae sat down in a smaller chair just in front of his desk, slightly looking up at the man.
The interview process was incredibly quick. Some general questions were asked, questions that Jongdae “uhh”-ed and “uhm”-ed through as he shook like a leaf in his seat, but the interviewer seemed to disregard them entirely. Finally the interviewer placed the resume down and truly looked at Jongdae for the first time since he came in and said,”I’m Junmyeon by the way and I’ve seen what you can do. We’ve been following you for a while now.” Now at that point Jongdae nearly shit himself. He’s not afraid to admit it. Why the fuck would this major company be watching him? Every conspiracy theory known to man flowed into his mind from the men in black to the Illuminati, but Junmyeon immediately debunked those. “I’m a fan of your work,” he said with a smile,”I’ve already made my decision. I’d like you to lead our IT team.” After that one interview, Jongdae had the job in the bag. So he came to this company straight out of college with an open mind and an eager heart, ready to take adulthood on by the horns. He made plenty of friends inside the company and outside, rented out a one bedroom, and even started his adult life.
Everything came a little too easily though. Jongdae did his job well and he was proud of that, but over time everything seemed to become dull. As he grew more experienced in his role, made friends at the company, and even seemingly conquered adult life and all its misfortunes, Jongdae grew bored. He got tired of the routine, tired of coming to the same sad basement every day, tired of the leaky coffee machine that - depending on its mood- would shock him, and especially tired of Oh Sehun calling the IT line to taunt him and immediately hang up before Jongdae could come up with a well thought out response. Sehun and Jongdae began officially working for the company around the same time, spending the first two weeks together during orientation in order to “bond” as a team despite them being in completely different departments. The two of them had been friends, genuinely, for a little while, but eventually they grew apart once they were sorted into their own departments. Jongdae remembers you very clearly from orientation, way too nice to be Sehun’s friend and laughing at all of Jongdae’s stupid jokes. He remembers you trying your hardest to keep the peace when things got too heated between him and Sehun. He remembers you, every bit of sweet and charming, looking at him like he was something special.
After orientation though, Jongdae hadn’t seen much of you. There was really no reason to. The two of you weren’t that close and he didn’t really have any reason to go to the upper levels of the building since he could just send any of his employees in his stead. You eventually slipped into the very corner of Jongdae’s mind, a hazy lustful memory that sometimes came up when he couldn’t sleep at night and needed to rub one out.
But, of course, one day it all changed.
One particular day after Jongdae got to work late, received a horrible sting from the terribly mean coffee machine, and spilled said coffee on his khakis, he got another stupid call from Sehun. It wasn’t so much as what Sehun said exactly, but more the fact that he almost never wants to deal with Sehun’s antics. These phone calls usually ranged from a dig at Jongdae’s fashion sense, even though Sehun hasn’t seen him in a while, to random silly names in a childish voice that grates his nerves and before Jongdae can think of a good response, Sehun hangs up accordingly. But Jongdae was already having a terrible day. So with all the anger and frustration he could muster, he headed upstairs to give the asshole a piece of his mind. When he finally got there 10 minutes later, after walking up and heaving over numerous flights of stairs due to maintenance on the main elevator (somehow the only elevator that went down to the basement), Jongdae rushed through the halls of Human Resources to figure out how exactly to handle this situation.
In his anger he didn’t think to simply call one of the managers or even shoot an email. Like an idiot, he rushed up here only to slowly realize that maybe this isn’t exactly the most professional approach. His furious stomps turn into timid steps as he grows more aware of his surroundings. Employees hustle their way back and forth from their desks, simply moving to the side to avoid Jongdae and his confusion to do their jobs. Jongdae begins feeling out of place as more and more people shoot glances his way, at his coffee stained khakis and flustered face. He’s completely out of his comfort zone, upstairs with the other departments that made this company, and it’s kind of getting to him.
The IT department is located in the very bowels of the building, far away from all the regular workers here, and the distinction is very noticeable. None of the other workers really even knew what the IT department did besides the basics like fixing computers or getting malware off of Wu Kris’ porn ridden desktop a little too often. The department itself was filled with nice enough people who didn’t really know how to socialize, much less fix their weird reputation of being “troll people”. Jongdae likes to think he’s different and loves proving these people wrong by showing how handsome, talented, and outgoing he is. While Jongdae had reasonable social skills, he did tend to get flustered easily in social situations. His social anxiety is something he constantly denies and struggles with, refusing to admit that he’s as awkward as his employees. Suddenly a familiar voice pulls him out of his reverie, nearly making him jump out of his slightly damp skin.
“Hey! Do you need help with something?”
There are offices all around him, the amount of people flowing in and out and about them confusing him all the more, but a soft “Over here!” guides him to a large office with an open wooden door. He sees a small streetview of the city in a small window before his eyes land on you. Your suit, buttons undone a little too low to be professional, your golden name plate, bold and starking on your desk, and your smile, just as sweet as he remembered.
“Jongdae?”
Before his mind can catch up with him, Jongdae manages a smile and a friendly, “Jesus, Y/N, is that you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”
As Jongdae steps into the room, doing his best to come off as casual and not at all as nervous as he feels, he’s met with the very last person he wants to see. Sehun turns around in his chair, widening his eyes in surprise, as he says,“Kim? What are you doing up here?”
God. Jongdae can’t tell if he’s actually asking or just being an asshole, but whatever Sehun’s doing, Jongdae has entirely thought out an eloquent ‘fuck you’ that’ll send Sehun reeling. Somehow despite the eloquent and well thought out ‘fuck you’ he planned, Jongdae can feel his face flushing more and more the longer the two of you stare at him. There’s an awkward pause which Jongdae can feel in the very pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what to say. He genuinely wasn’t expecting you to be one of the main managers now and he certainly wasn’t expecting Sehun, of all people, to be a part of the HR department.
With this sudden change, Jongdae feels his heart race, his skin prickle with nerves he didn’t realize were there. Your eyes, darker than he remembers, roll over his form and take him in for what he is. A nervous idiot who apparently doesn’t know how to talk to people. When your gaze moves to Sehun, you lightly smack his arm and nod at the door before saying,”I’ll see you later for lunch.”
Sehun’s eyes widen slightly, looking between you and Jongdae before landing on you once again, and he pouts,”Nooo! don’t make me leave. Look at his chinos. Let me have this.”
For some reason, despite his nerves, Jongdae feels the need to interject,“They’re khakis.”
“You would think that.”
You lightly smack Sehun again and nod at the door,”Goodbye, Sehunnie.” He leaves without further prodding, but not before snorting at Jongdae’s general direction and closing the door behind him. The two of you are left there, alone in your office, with the hum of afternoon traffic filtering in from outside.
“You can sit down, Jongdae.”
Your voice is more comforting than he remembers, something about it almost immediately calming the pressure building up in his body, the need to climb out of his own skin. Jongdae sinks into the very seat that Sehun previously occupied, resting against the arm chair and spreading his legs slightly. The attempt to look bigger than he really is isn’t lost on you, but you let him get comfortable without protest.
You’ve been working in HR for a few years now and have finally become one of the managers in your department. You worked very hard to get to where you are and you’re incredibly proud of yourself. A major part of your job is ensuring that everyone is comfortable in their workspace. The reason why you’re so good at your job is because of how observant you are as well as your ability to calm people down. There’s a heady lavender scent filling the walls of your office, a thick smell that lulls Jongdae’s senses. You have little knick knacks and pictures littered around the space to make your office appear more like a casual place than what it actually was. Here in the middle of everything is Jongdae, an old friend from orientation.
Jongdae sparks up small talk, trying desperately to get the attention off of him and onto something else, as he looks around the room. You entertain him, of course, and occasionally glance at the way he picks at an escaped thread on your arm chair. He’s more handsome than you remember, blonde tresses contrasting nicely with his skin.
When the two of you were new hires, you’d been attracted to Jongdae. You laughed at his jokes, went out of your way to hang out with him, and even met up with him a few times outside of work, but either he was incredibly oblivious or simply wasn’t interested. Eventually you gave up your pursuit and instead focused on work, burying yourself in your workload and sure enough coming out on top. The two of you move from small talk to actual topics of conversation to internet communities. Jongdae had entirely forgotten why he was so attracted to you aside from your figure. Your sense of humor is infectious and probably the weirdest he’s ever seen. The two of you are involved in a lot of the same online communities, Jongdae’s being a little more extreme and exclusive than yours.
So when the topic of memes came up, all of the awkwardness and tension completely dissolved. You both laughed, showing each other memes uglier and more obscure than the last, and soon time began to pass without the two of you really noticing. Soon there’s a knock on your door, signaling the actual work that needed to be done and the reason why the two of you were in the first place. As Jongdae stands up, apologizing profusely for distracting you and exchanging usernames so he could add you later on Reddit, you notice the stain on his khakis. “Oh right. what happened anyway?” you ask, eyes not really leaving his crotch.
He follows your gaze to his khakis - chinos - and huffs,”Fuck, I almost forgot. Long story short, the coffee pot downstairs fucking sucks and we need to buy another one.” As you nod along to his explanation, you stand from your desk and make your way towards another chair in the corner of your office. Now that Jongdae can see you, really see you, he almost pops a chub right there in his fucking khakis. Chinos. Whatever. Your buttoned shirt neatly tucks into slacks that hug your frame nicely, shaping your figure into something thicker and sexier than Jongdae previously remembers. Your legs, God your legs, go on for miles and miles before they’re met with those tall black heels that bring the entire look together. Weak at the knees, Jongdae can’t help but stare at your curvaceous figure, a familiar feeling stirring in the very pit of his stomach.
You blatantly and unabashedly bend down to grab something out of your purse, pretending to dig around as the Tide To Go pen remains in your hand. After a tension fills the room, varying from the one earlier, you stand up fully and make your way over to Jongdae. You smirk as you catch the very last second of Jongdae’s gaze moving from your ass to your face before holding out the small pen. “Here,” you say as you stare down at the stain,”it’ll get just about anything off.” The two of you stare at each other for a time, not really saying a word as a mutual understanding begins to form. Jongdae takes the pen out of your hand, his own confidence beginning to fade once your professional front fades and turns into something he’s never seen before. Your eyes seem darker as they take him in now, consuming every inch of him as they roam. He loves it though, loves the attention he’s getting from you, loves that your eyes are on him and him only. There’s another insistent knock before the door opens altogether, a frustrated and huffy Sehun appearing in the doorway. “I swear to God, Y/N, if I don’t get noodles immediately I will die.”
After being reunited once again, there are a series of convenient run-ins that you knew for a fact were planned. How did you know? Because you’re the only planning said run-ins, having Sehun make a phone call to Jongdae every single time a computer so much as froze. On the days that Jongdae needed to be called, you made sure to wear your best outfits, to smile especially bright when he looked absolutely exasperated as Sehun pestered him as he worked on Baekhun’s computer, and to make sure that he had the perfect view of you walking away. When Jongdae made trips upstairs to fix computers that 9 times out of 10 weren’t actually broken, he’d see glimpses of your form walking amongst the halls or overhear your voice not too far away. No matter where he is, you’re somehow always close by.
Soon Sehun’s daily annoying calls turn into sort of productive ones. He somehow keeps having computer trouble and specifically asks for Jongdae himself each and every time. At the possibility of seeing you and the threat of a single and possibly fatal phone call to Junmyeon, who would do anything for that annoying twink, Jongdae has to come each and every time. Each and every time Jongdae goes, the “issues” that Sehun has are almost always an easy fix: turning the computer off and on again when it froze, stop downloading malware from weird websites so the computer won’t freeze, stop going on weird websites, stop playing dress up Barbie games on said weird websites, reducing the zoom from 150% to 75%, or simply plugging the desktop into the outlet. With each trip you and Jongdae got closer and closer. From saying a polite hello in the hallways as the two of you passed each other to awkward yet eager small talk to inside jokes and texting. Jongdae, ever determined, returned every hello, talked about the weather for as long as he could, and replied to each and every text in a timely manner. He’d do anything to make you smile, anything to see your ass in slacks and A-lines as you walk away with that sashay in your hips he loves so fucking much.
During this last trip where Sehun literally jammed a Wham! CD into the disk tray of his desktop, the fucker isn’t even there. When Jongdae arrives at his desk, exasperated and tired, he sees you, conveniently leaning against Sehun’s desk and scrolling through your phone. Or at least pretending to. Jongdae walks to the desk, trying and failing to come up with some sort of tsundere vibe that would impress you. All he manages is a squeaky and pathetic,”H-hey.” You already know he’s there, could already feel the tension in his shoulders from a mile away, but smile up at him in surprise anyway.
“Hey! So Sehun had to run out for a second-”
But at the mention of Sehun and his general headassery, the nervousness fades into annoyance.
“He went out for his ‘second’ lunch didn’t he?”
“-....okay, yeah. He should be back by now.”
“He won’t be back for the rest of the day.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s Sehun.”
After ripping the CD out of the desktop’s tray, Jongdae takes the time to look at you, really look at you, while you’re rambling about something that happened in the office today. He thinks about how months ago he had absolutely no idea who you really were. You were just an acquaintance, a faded memory for his occasional spank bank, but in the time he’s come to know you, he sees you’re much more than that. The two of you are friends, genuinely friends, and it’s something that Jongdae is incredibly grateful for. Of course he still finds you attractive, but as the two of you got closer, Jongdae realizes that he isn’t just interested in your cup size or the shape of your ass in those yoga pants you wear every single time he comes over for a Futurama marathon. While you go on and on about how Kris made a pass at you, the HR manager, Jongdae makes a reference to the sloth meme that’s been your joke for the past few days just to make you laugh. Of course you laugh, letting out the cutest and ugliest snort he’s ever heard, and that’s when he realizes it. He cares about you. Like, actually cares about you. Some time between hanging back at the office until either of you were done to get drinks after work and him teaching you how to play Magic the Gathering with old friends, he’d developed real actual feelings.
It’s a weird feeling, a weird thing to realize while you’re ugly laughing so loud that most of your office is looking at the two of you, but he kinda likes it. Kinda likes that he likes you. Maybe things weren’t so boring after all. That day Jongdae knew he had to ask you out, but just couldn’t figure out when. He had plenty of opportunities to, but he just couldn’t manage. Any time the two of you texted each other late at night or when you find solace in his coat while the two of you brave the harsh winter weather during your lunch break, or even during sorta cuddling but not really sessions while the two of you watched Firefly, Jongdae had the chance to ask you out but he was never brave enough to. He simply couldn’t gather the courage to do it.
It happens around Christmas Eve. The two of you were the only ones left in the building, save for some Janitorial staff who would also be gone soon, finishing up work that needed to be done before the New Year. With nowhere to go, the two of you decided to spend Christmas together with large cups of egg nog and a back and forth of tragic backstories that revealed the reason why you weren’t spending time with your families. When he walks into your office, Jongdae sees a mostly empty space that’s lost all remnants of you. All that’s left is the desk, a bookshelf, and one of your old chairs. All of the knick knacks and books are gone now, the fading scent of lavender being the only remaining remnant of your time there. You’re sitting in the middle of everything, working hard at your desk, as if none of your things are gone. Jongdae’s mind races to a variety of situations, most pertaining to you leaving and never coming back, so he asks,“Are you leaving?” Even though he doesn’t know the answer to this question, his heart aches something fierce. The idea of you leaving, even if he can just see you outside of work, is upsetting and so devastating that he might truly be upset by it.
You shake your head, finishing up what’s left of the possible report you’re typing, and say,”No. Just moving to the other side of the office. I’m gonna have a temporary cubicle with Sehun. Can you shut that door?” While he’s happy that you’re not leaving, his initial reaction to the possibility reveals feelings that are truly undeniable. Somewhere, in all of this, Jongdae suddenly finds a courage that hasn’t been there for most of the day. The two of you are alone in this god forsaken building at night with no Sehun or other colleagues to intervene. It’s here that Jongdae decides maybe, just maybe, this is the time to confess how he feels. To lay everything out on the table bare for you to see. As the soft click of the closing door echoes throughout the office and you get up briefly to grab your things, everything seems to finalize in that moment. He works up the courage to ask you out, thinking of all the ways you could easily reject him with a pitiful look in your eyes, but he wants to at least try. Just so he’s not left with a heartbreaking “what if” for the rest of his life. Jongdae’s eyes look away as he resigns himself to his fate and says,
”Honestly, Y/N, I’ve liked you for a while. Of course I appreciate our friendship and I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I was wondering if we could go out some time? We could get dinner or something - I mean I know we do that a lot, but I’ll take you somewhere nice and we can just-”
“Jongdae.”
“-dress up or something. But no pressure seriously! It’s fine I get if you’re not into me. Okay you’re not answering me or giving me any sort of tell so maybe I got the wrong idea. We can just forget all of this and move on. I just-”
“Jongdae.”
“-really hope we can still be friends. We can just go back to normal it’s no big deal. Fuck fuck I shouldn’t have said anything now it’s all awkward.”
“Jongdae!”
Jongdae looks up just in time to see your familiar black dress pool on the floor, your black heels kicking the offending fabric away. His eyes wander from your heels to the expanse of your legs, covered in black stockings, to the straps of your garter belt, barely holding onto the thickness of your thighs, to your lacy thong, up the expanse of your stomach, to your matching bra, and finally to your smirk. Your red lipstick, contrasting deliciously against the rest of your ensemble, makes Jongdae almost fucking lose it. Almost. He can’t pretend anymore or brush off your advances and claim it’s all in his head.
He’s here now with you, staring at the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and popping the biggest chub he’s ever had. You reach out for him, grabbing his limp hand and pulling him towards you, and place his hands on your hips. They tighten instantly, the lace bunching up slightly under his hands. Your smirk widens as you take in Jongdae’s shock, the absolute disbelief in his eyes, and you use that to push him down to the floor until he’s kneeling. Jongdae goes willingly, kneeling down immediately, and looks up at you with all the admiration in the world. You run your fingers through his hair and say,“Merry Christmas, Jongdae.”
Jongdae maintains eye contact with you as he lifts up your leg, leaning briefly to kiss your ankle and places the long limb over his shoulder. He stares at your lace covered center, nearly tasting the heat there, and whispers a soft and unbelievable,”Merry Christmas.”
Now, Jongdae hasn’t eaten pussy in a long time. Not since one of his ex girlfriends told him he was absolute shit at it. No matter how much he tried, she’d never fail to put him down and refused to tell him how to improve in any way. She was a bitch anyway, but it always left an impression on him. There’s something about your gaze though, as you look down at him, that makes him squirm with a feeling of complete and total helplessness. As your eyes watch him kiss at your thighs and generally put off what he could only assume is the main event, Jongdae feels a sense of guidance. A sort of safety net that ensures him that you’ll be there to put him back in line if he messes up. That you’ll tell him exactly what he needs to do and how he needs to do it. For some reason there’s a lot of comfort in that fact, comfort that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
There’s a sharp pain in his back that makes him wince. He arches away from it, only for the sharp to grow harsher as it twists. The firmness of it helps him realize that it’s the very edge of your heel digging into his back. “Don’t tease me,” you warn. It’s not a statement or a suggestion. It’s a command, a rule that leaves no space for breaking. So he leans in tentatively and gives little kitten licks, eyes closing as he focuses all his attention on you. You don’t moan or arch your back right away, but you do run your fingers through his blonde tresses again. He can feel your eyes on him, watching him as his licks get bolder and longer against your core. But Jongdae starts getting insecure, starts shrinking away and thinking that maybe he should just end this before it all goes to hell, but you pull him back by his hair to cup his cheek. “It’s okay, baby boy,” you smile, a complete 180 from before.
With renewed confidence, the IT manager gives it one more try. He gives you short kitten licks, nibbling and mouthing at your folds when he gets a little more comfortable. Jongdae’s licks make their way to your clit, honing in when you moan for the first time since you two started this whole thing. From what he can tell, your moans are precious and only delved out when he’s doing a good enough job to pleasure you. So he eagerly continues, trying all types of tricks with his tongue to pull more moans out of you. A handful of them work pretty well so Jongdae performs them again and again in different ways with the same level of incredible excitement. You end up riding his face anyway, grinding against his tongue with a fervor that he can barely keep up with. Your body begins shuddering from the sensations as you cum once and then twice on his tongue. Jongdae, always willing to prove himself, licks up your orgasm and lets out a moan of his own. He sucks at your clit now, letting it go to roll his tongue over the swollen nub, and starts palming himself in his slacks. He never thought he’d be doing this. Never thought he could be eating you out on your desk and getting off to it, getting off on all of it. Just when a hot pressure builds in his tummy, tight and sweet, the very tip of your heel digs into his back again. “Don’t you fucking cum, you pervert.”
The pain alone is enough to push Jongdae over the edge, but he somehow manages to get himself together. He lets go of the tent in his slacks and looks at you, waiting for your next move. You remove your leg from his shoulder with a little bit of help and lean against your desk again with your legs spread and Jongdae helplessly in between them. You cup his cheek briefly, letting a manicured finger brush his lower lip and ask, “Are you being a good boy, Jongdae?”
Now Jongdae’s never really been into bdsm or kink or anything weird like that. He’s never considered anything passed the occasional visit of pink fluffy handcuffs on especially exciting days or spanking. He hasn’t been that kind of guy or at least he never thought he would be. Until now. You towering over him and making him feel small and weak, pathetic even, is the most sexual excitement he’s had in a long time. So now as you hover a heel over the tent in his slacks and frown down at him, Jongdae can’t help but shudder at your appearance as you demand an answer. “Y-yes,” is all he says,”I’m being a good boy.” But that isn’t the right answer. Your heel makes contact with his cock, firm enough to give pleasure but light enough where Jongdae can say it’s too much and push away. He wants to do anything but that. When he doesn’t relent or get up to leave, you press your heel down harder with a lot less room than before. Jongdae cries out, shuddering and closing his eyes tight as he goes. The wet patch forming on his grey slacks where your heel used to be is the only tell of what happened without your permission. His cheeks redden with guilt as a flush slowly makes its way from his face to his neck. The guilt and shame is overwhelming. After dreaming about this moment for months, about seeing you like this and doing anything sexually, how could he fuck up this bad? How could he cum in his pants from that?
You grab him by his hair and pull tight tight tight and Jongdae can only brace himself on your thighs as he gathers his bearings. He feels so sloppy, mussed up hair and tie in a disarray, and dirty, face still covered in your orgasm and softening cock encased in cum stained boxers. Although you’re furious with him, clearly more disappointed than Jongdae is, in the tightness of your hold his cock twitches and bobs for more. He needs more, absolutely needs to see how far the two of you can go with whatever this is, but it won’t happen unless you’re on board too. “You’re a naughty boy, Jongdae. Maybe I should just head home alone if you’re not gonna take this seriously.” Fuck. Jongdae desperately wants to fix this, desperately wants to make you proud of him again, but he just doesn’t know how. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I want it,” he tries as he looks into your slowly approving eyes,”I wanna be a good boy.” You like that answer enough to let him go, but you’re still very disappointed. You release your grip from his hair and take the time to look over your manicured nails and ignore Jongdae entirely. He takes your threat very seriously, your disinterest making it clear that he still has a chance of changing your mind.
“Please, Y/N, please-”
“Mistress.”
“What?”
You don’t repeat yourself and Jongdae’s left trying to figure out what it means in his post orgasmic haze. Then it clicks. “Mistress, please. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
“Top shelf, towards the back.” Jongdae scrambles, genuinely scrambles, over to your bookshelf towards the door to grab a small foil from the very back of the top shelf. Just how long were you planning this? He tears the small package with his teeth and rolls the lubricated condom onto his cock. When he turns around to face you once again, you’re bent over your desk and looking over your shoulder. Jongdae stares at you for a time, wondering how on earth he got so damn lucky. He’s not quick enough, not taking advantage of this beautiful opportunity, because you say,“If you don’t make me cum, I’ll find someone who will.” Before he realizes it, his legs are moving on their own. Jongdae pulls down your thong, groaning when he has to use a little more force to get it passed your thighs, and pumps at his cock. You wiggle your ass just enough to get him going, but stop when he begins to line up his cock.
The mushroom head presses against your entrance, slowly but surely pushing until Jongdae is entirely sheathed. He’s not huge, but you can still feel him pulsing away. You’re full enough and that’s what matters. Jongdae slowly thrusts, getting used to the tight hot heat, and trying desperately not to cum so soon. He’s only had his hand for the passed few months and no matter how good his hand is, nothing compares to the real thing. You’re impatient though and don’t really care what’s going on with Jongdae. It’s not that you want him to fuck up again, but that’s exactly what you want. The opportunity to punish him, to further humiliate him, is something that you look forward to. There’s no way you’re letting him go after tonight, absolutely no way.
You reach behind you and pinch his thigh, giggling at the unabashed resulting moan he lets out. “Pain slut,” you coo as his hips stutter. The pinch works. Jongdae’s hips move faster and deeper, a concentration going as he focuses on making you feel good. You hold onto your desk and rock your hips to meet his, moaning aloud as Jongdae focuses all of his attention on you. His cock rubs against your walls, slipping out briefly due to his excitement before finding its way back inside of you with a helpful hand. This pace continues, growing more and more brutal as your moans grow louder and uncontrolled. Jongdae moans along with you, at the very feeling of you clamping down on his cock as you cum for the first time. He chases that feeling, angling his hips to hit your g-spot on every single thrust. Your moans ring throughout the office now, along with the sound of skin slapping skin. While you love that Jongdae’s absolutely rocking your world, you want to have even more fun. You bring your hand back once more to pinch and twist Jongdae’s thigh. His hips stutter again as he hisses and cries out, but continues regardless of the newfound pleasurable pain.
“Mistress,” he pants,”I can’t...I can’t do it. Please let me cum.” You’ve got him right where you want him. You smirk as you rock your hips against him and say,”I don’t know, baby. I haven’t cum yet.” Jongdae whines because he knows you’re lying. He’s felt you cum a few times already, your heat gripping his cock viciously while your body jerked and cried out, but now you’re lying.
In the heat of it all, you manage to push Jongdae away from you slightly so that you can sit up without being connected to him. You turn around to face him before sitting on the edge of the desk once again and spreading your legs. You take the time to look at him, really look at him, and smile with something like adoration as you take in his flushed form. Jongdae stands there, unsure but willing, as he looks at you in return. His hand finds his cock, swollen with need, but refuses to stroke as if he’s afraid of disobeying you. Even though he’s only just got into kink and bdsm and the like, he’s surprisingly obedient. “Do you wanna make Mistress feel good?”
Jongdae nods feverently, refusing to move neither his hand nor himself, and waits calmly for you to call him over. You stare at him for a time as his resolve cracks and breaks, whining and pleading tumbling from his swollen lips, “Please, Mistress, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything you want.” In that moment, with his eyes tearing and voice watering, Jongdae is capable of doing just about anything to get what he wants. But it’s Christmas and this weird holiday confession turned into something Jongdae wasn’t at all expecting. So you motion him over, call him a good boy as he slides back into you, and run a hand through his hair as his hips start again. Giving him what he wants does nothing to calm the whines down, Jongdae’s whines get louder if anything as he nears his release. The noises he makes is enough to make you cum again as the need to take care of Jongdae fills you. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you promise, moaning yourself when he brushes against that special spot inside you again,”You’re such a good boy right? Always a good boy.” “A-always a good boy,” he whimpers back at you,”I wanna be your good boy.”
While the feeling of Jongdae grinding against you is enough to make you cum a thousand times over, it’s time to end all of this. You don’t want him dropping in your old office without even really knowing what dropping is. “Cum, baby.” The hand in his hair, the nurturing voice, the wet friction of your pussy sucking him in, it’s too much. With another “good boy” kissed into his mouth, Jongdae cums in the condom. Cums for the second time that night and the hardest time in his entire life.
Aftercare is had on Christmas at your loft downtown after a 15 minute taxi drive. Jongdae is held and cherished and asked questions about what he liked and didn’t like about the night. He liked everything, loved everything, and insisted that the two of you do it again as soon as possible. You promise him a nice date on the day after Christmas with steamed buns. For now, Jongdae is fine with Futurama marathons on Christmas with stew and beer. Jongdae relishes this promise and all of the warm things to come while spooning you especially close that night.
But little does he know that none of these things would come to pass. You wouldn’t get to go on that date you promised. The two of you wouldn’t talk for a time. Sehun’s phone calls would stop coming in abruptly and soon you would be barely around for Jongdae to talk to. The next time Jongdae would see you, truly see you, was when you were with an old friend of his who just started working at the office.
#exo#exo smut#exo fic#exo scenarios#exo scenario#exo imagine#exo imagines#xiuchen#chen#chen smut#chen fic#chen imagine#chen scenario#chen imagines#chen scenarios#jongdae#jongdae fic#jongdae smut#jongdae scenario#jongdae imagine#jongdae imagines#xiumin#minseok fic#minseok smut#minseok scenarios#minseok scenario#xiumin fic#xiumin smut#xiumin scenarios#xiumin scenario
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Space Mercenaries AU: Meet the Crew
This is my 100th fic on Ao3 (I have no idea what number it is on tumblr though because I don’t remember exactly when I started uploading my fics to tumblr) and it’s my first official foray into writing my own AU, something I’ve wanted to do for a long while now. As I’m sure you can guess by the title, it’s basically a space pirate AU except they’re mercenaries instead of pirates. It’s really just a basic introduction to the setting.
The spaceship was huge, bigger than Scout had thought it’d be. The logo for the company that owned it, RED, was on the side big enough to be seen from a distance. According to Miss Pauling – the lovely lady who was now Scout’s immediate superior – the rumors floating around that it originated from Earth were true. Having lived his whole life on a colony far-far away from Earth meant Scout had never met anyone from there. Making this new job even more exciting then it had been already.
Pauling had told him to just hop on board, store his belongings in his new room and then introduce himself to everyone. Easy-peasy except for the fact that he didn’t know how to board it. All his experience with spaceships had been the small pilotable kind – he was the best pilot on this planet and everyone knew it, it’s why he’d been hired.
Hiding his nervousness with practiced ease, he strode right up to it, ignoring everyone else milling around the dock pretending not to look at the biggest spaceship to ever grace this out of the way planet. Luckily the entrance wasn’t hard to find, a ramp led right up to it so he only embarrassed himself a little bit when he started circling the ship before quickly finding it. He held his ID up to the scanner next to it as he’d been instructed to do. Hopefully he was doing this right. It beeped after a few seconds and the doors opened with a nice slick sound straight out of a science fiction movie.
“Cool,” he said under he breath as he slid his ID back in his pocket.
This was really happening though, he was officially a hired mercenary. He could finally leave home and be independent, sort of anyway, there’d still be his team and his employers but they weren’t his mom or his brothers. Maybe he’d even find his dad one day. … Not likely, the universe was far too big for that to have any more than a snowball’s chance in hell of happening, but a nice thought nonetheless. If Scout did find him though he didn’t know what he’d do, hug him or punch him for leaving – perhaps both – so it was probably for the best anyway.
He took a deep breath, adjusting the weight of the bag on his shoulder – filled with all his worldly belongings, there weren’t many of them – as he stepped in. Hopefully he didn’t look as much like a wide-eyed recruit as he felt. He needed to be cool and suave, like this wasn’t his first time being hired on as a proper mercenary.
Inside was cool and filled with the soft hum of machines that seemed to come from everywhere. He was in a hallway that led to an entrance hall? It was a spacy room with lots of passages leading off it.
“Hey fresh meat!” The shout was loud enough to echo, filling the room and making Scout flinch and jump back.
The shouter, who was a black man wearing an eyepatch apparently thought that was hilarious. He was laughing it up as he exited out of one the hallways, walking with a slight sway as if he were slightly intoxicated. The brown bottle in his hand supported that hypothesis. “Sorry mate,” didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his chuckles dying off as he reached Scout. “You can call me ‘Demo’ or ‘Demoman’, I blow shit up.” He held out his hand, offering to shake.
Scout frowned at him, unsure if he should be offended about being laughed at. He was a bit jumpy sometimes, it wasn’t his fault and it certainly wasn’t funny. He wasn’t going to start off his new job with being upset with his teammates if he could help it though so he shook Demo’s hand.
“I’m Scout,” he said, puffing out his chest. He liked that he was allowed to use a nickname here, it separated this even further from his old life. And according to Miss Pauling everyone else was doing it too so it was only natural. “I fly ships and run really fast and kill people.” He’d never killed anyone before but that was what he was being hired to do, right? Part of it anyway. So he better pretend it was no big deal. “I’m the best at it.”
“You talk real tough small fry, I like it,” Demo said. Good, Scout had already impressed him. … The ‘small fry’ comment wasn’t great though, but he’d take what he could get right now. “Want me to show you around, introduce you to everyone?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve been aboard ships like this before, I can find my way around no problem.”
“Whatever you say mate, if you change your mind though I’ll be in the kitchen.” He took a chug from his bottle before starting to head for one of the hallways. “See you around.”
“Yep, see you around pal,” Scout returned with confidence.
So far, so good. His first meeting with one of his teammates had gone well, seven more to go. First, he had to find his room though to drop his stuff off. It couldn’t be that hard to navigate this place, could it?
-
Scout was lost. He didn’t want to admit it but he was. Everything looked the same and the ship seemed to take full advantage of its massive size to cram as many corridors and rooms into itself as physically possible. There were a ton of locked rooms, presumably leading to important places he didn’t have the clearance to access yet, they cut off his options for places to go but the dead ends were frustrating.
There were signposts, pointing this way and that way but… none of them pointed towards the sleeping quarters. There were several that pointed to the kitchen but Scout couldn’t go there and ask Demo for that tour after all. That would be both admitting defeat and that he’d lied about being able to find his way around on his own, both were unacceptable.
He’d brute force his way through this. If he just kept going he’d find it eventually. … It’d be nice to have a map though, even if he wasn’t good at reading them it’d help a little probably.
He turned a corner and almost ran into somebody. A very odd somebody who wore a full body suit and mask, making it impossible to see his face. The empty gaze of his mask was… vaguely intimidating, making Scout take a step back before he could stop himself.
The fellow waved, wriggling his fingers. He then made gestures with his hands; sign language. Scout had seen it enough times to recognize it but he’d never learned it himself, it hadn’t ever occurred to him that he might need it one day.
“Uh… I don’t understand,” he said. Was the guy deaf? Could he understand Scout? Was it rude to ask? Would they have to communicate via writing? That would be fine but for the fact Scout’s dyslexia made it hard to read and write properly most of the time, he didn’t want to reveal that to people he’d just met and needed to impress, they’d think he was an idiot.
The guy seemed to sigh without actually sighing? His shoulders slumped as he hung his head, giving it a light shake. That meant he could understand Scout though, right? He was reacting to what had been said.
“I’m Scout, I’m the new guy.” Ugh, why’d he have to state the obvious? “Uh… do you think you could show me the way the sleeping quarters or whatever?” This guy didn’t know Scout had claimed he’d be fine on his own here so asking for help from him was fine, right? Then again, asking a mysterious masked figure for directions might not be a wise move. He was part of the crew though, right? So, it’d be fine… probably. If not, Scout had a gun and he knew how to use it, he could defend himself.
The fellow nodded, giving him a thumbs up. He then gestured for Scout to follow him and started skipping down the way he’d come. With no better options present, Scout followed.
Turns out they were two turns away from the sleeping quarters. See? Scout would’ve totally found it on his own, he hadn’t needed to ask this guy for directions and thus it didn’t count that he had.
Only one of the rooms was open at the end of the hall, the ninth one according to Scout’s count. The masked fellow led Scout right too it and tapped the wall by it. He then pointed out Scout and then gave him a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” Scout said. “But uh… there’s only eight other people?” He’d asked and been told that he was the final member of the team and thus he’d expected more people. Maybe there was another hallway?
But the masked guy nodded, giving Scout another thumbs up, indicating that that was correct. There were only nine people on this team. On the bright side that meant meeting them all wouldn’t take too long. First he had to settle into his new room though.
“Thanks uh… see you around buddy,” he told the masked dude – he’d have to get his name from one of the other crew members later – earning another thumbs up before stepping into the room. He pressed the button on the wall to close the door behind him.
It was a fairly small room but there was a bed, desk, and closet. There was more storage space under the bed too. It was his very own room, he didn’t have to share it with anyone. And his mom wouldn’t be around to yell at him about cleaning it every time even a tiny mess started to form. He was free and independent, life was great.
-
Scout took his time arranging all his stuff. There wasn’t much so it didn’t take long. It was exciting though, having a room all to himself. He didn’t have worry about people walking in on him when he was changing or doing private things. Or about people messing with his stuff, he could lock the door when he wasn’t in here and no one else could get in.
He almost didn’t want to leave but… he needed – and wanted – to meet the rest of the crew. Solitude for too long would undoubtedly drive him crazy, already he was craving someone to talk to about how awesome this all was. So it wasn’t long before he was stepping out into the hallway again.
There was of course still the problem that he didn’t know where he was going and would probably get lost. But it was a spaceship meant for living and mercenary work, not a maze, so he could figure out its layout… eventually. For now, he could just walk until he ran into someone else, hopefully someone who could better communicate with him and had a face.
As if the thought had summoned him, someone came around the corner as Scout started heading towards it. He wore goggles and a hardhat. “Howdy partner,” he said with a friendly wave. “Pyro told me we had a new guy, so I figured I’d come say ‘hi’ since I’m having a coffee break anyway. You can call me ‘Engie’ or ‘Engineer’, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh… howdy partner?” Scout had never heard a greeting like that before. “I’m Scout. Who’s Pyro? The guy with the mask?”
“Yep, he likes fire so we call him ‘Pyro’. He either don’t like talking or can’t so he speaks in sign instead. Don’t worry though he can hear just fine so you can talk to him normal like.”
“Does he wear the mask and suit thing all the time?” Probably not, right? That would be silly.
“Far as I know yeah. I assume he takes it off to eat and bathe but that’s about it. You can ask him why but he won’t answer and might get upset if you do.”
“All right.” That was weird but… Scout didn’t sign on here expecting everything to be normal and predictable. He was here for excitement and adventure, weird team mates with bizarre habits wasn’t too far out of the realm of expectation. And it was something he could easily live with. “Can you uh… lead me to the kitchen please? Since you’re headed there for coffee anyway.” He could use a snack and if Demo was still there he might take him up on the tour offer after all because he’d undoubtedly get lost again if he didn’t. His excuse could be that he didn’t know where the rest of the team were supposed to be.
“Sure can,” Engie replied. “Follow me.”
Unable to keep quiet while in such a cool place, Scout chatted about it as they walked. In the back of his mind he kept track of where they turned so he could potentially find his way back or make this journey again on his own. His sense of direction was a bit thrown off by how similar the walls all were but now that he was actively trying to remember the way he should have a better time with it.
The kitchen turned out to be nearby, not even a five minute walk. It was big and high tech, Scout wasn’t sure what half the things in here were. It was empty though, Demo wasn’t here. But luckily the fridge was easy to identify and thus Scout didn’t have to embarrass himself by asking.
Inside was various stuff, mostly veggies and fruits, a lot of which he’d never seen before. There was what could only be beer at the bottom in bottles identical to the one Demo had been holding. Water bottles were on the shelf above. There was no soda though, bummer.
“You want coffee boy?” Engie asked. He was off to the side messing with the coffee pot, it was clearly fancy and high tech. Or… high tech compared to what Scout was used to it, it was possible his experience with such things was outdated and this was now the standard.
“No thanks.” Scout couldn’t stand coffee unless it was loaded up with sweeteners and cream, even then though he’d prefer not to drink it. Since he also didn’t want to drink beer – the last thing he wanted to do was get drunk on his first day and embarrass himself in front of his new coworkers – that left him no choice but to drink water. Lame but he probably needed to drink more water anyway.
So after some thought he decided on an apple and a bottle of water. He could experiment with the alien fruits later – not the veggies though, fuck vegetables – and search the cupboards for junk food. For now though he’d play it safe and simple.
“Come out to the dining room,” Engie said, holding his cup of coffee. “There’s bound to be more of the team there for you to meet.”
“Okay.” Scout followed him out of the kitchen through a different door than they’d entered through.
It led straight to the dining room. It was big with a large table in the middle which four people sat at playing cards. Two of them Scout had already met, Demo and Pyro. The other two were a big guy who looked like he could snap Scout in half with his bare hands and a skinny guy in a fancy suit and ski mask. All four looked up as Scout and Engie entered.
“Hey,” Demo greeted with a smile and a handwave. He was drinking still. Pyro waved too, wriggling his fingers.
“Hi again,” Scout said, unable to take his eyes off suit and mask guy. He didn’t want to be rude and stare but… the guy was staring at him, frozen. What his expression might be under the mask was hard to say but his gaze was intense enough to make Scout very uncomfortable. Was he planning on murder or something? “I’m Scout,” he said with a forced smile to the other two, not letting his discomfort show. “Nice to meet you.”
“Heavy,” the big guy said. “Is nice to meet you too.”
Suit and mask guy huffed as he seemed to break out of whatever had frozen him in place, finally pulling his intense stare off of Scout. “I have places to be,” he said, his tone very prim and proper as he placed his cards down on the table and stood up. He then turned around and left, no greeting or anything. Rude.
“That’s Spy,” Engie said. “He… ain’t normally like that.”
“Eh, who knows what’s up with him, he’s a weirdo,” Demo said with a shrug before taking a drink from his bottle. “Come join us, we was in the middle of a game.”
They sat at the table, Engie taking over Spy’s cards. What had Scout done to make Spy already dislike him? Had it been the way he’d said ‘hi’? Maybe the way he was dressed? Something else? Could he fix it? … Probably not, once people started disliking him, that feeling only ever grew.
“You play poker?” Heavy asked, clearly the dealer for this game.
“Uh… sometimes.” Scout wasn’t good at it but did know how to play.
“Good, you join next round. Is good way to get to know each other.”
“Okay.” It’s not like Scout had anything better to do.
“You got lost after all though, huh?” Demo said, chuckling and raising and eyebrow at Scout.
“No, of course not,” Scout lied with a scoff as if that were ridiculous.
Pyro tapped the table and signed something that made Demo laugh. Were they… making fun of Scout? It wasn’t a mocking kind of laugh though but like he was tipsy and giggling because of it.
“You don’t have to lie,” Engie said. “We all got lost when we were new too, you’ll be able to find your way around in no time.”
“Yeah and you’ll get fucking sick of it in no time too,” Demo added. “This ship actually ain’t so big once you been living in it for a while. It’ll drive you mad.”
“Is not so bad,” Heavy cut in. “And once we reach destination we’ll be let off sometimes.”
“What is our destination by the way?” That hadn’t been in any of the advertisements for the job and he’d been too excited about the whole thing to ask during interview or screening process.
“Some solar system somewhere that our boss what’s us to take control of,” Demo said. “Apparently his brother or something also wants it so we’re going to be fighting his hired mercenaries for it, it’s some weird family feud thing.”
“There’s more to it than that but that about sums it up,” Engie said. Scout didn’t care about the details anyway as long as he got paid and got to go on an adventure in the far off reaches of space.
-
“Ah fuck it, I quit.” Demo threw down his cards in frustration after Engie won for the umpteenth time in a row. “Come on Scouty boy, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the others.” His words were slurred and he was unsteady on his feet as he stood.
“Uh… you sure you’re up for that?” Scout asked. The last thing he wanted was for Demo to pass out and Scout to have to carry him when he wasn’t sure where he was going.
“Yes, now you coming or not laddie?”
“Go with him,” Engie said, also standing. “He’ll be fine but don’t take anything mean he says to heart, he doesn’t mean it. I’d go with you but I need to get back to work, see y’all later.” He gave them a wave before leaving through a side door.
“Yes, I also have work to get back too,” Heavy said as he gathered up the cards, stacking them into a nice, neat pile.
Pyro signed something to Demo who replied with “Yeah, you can come too.” Which got a clap from Pyro
With no other options readily available to him, Scout followed the two of them out. It was better than getting lost again. And well, so far he liked his new team mates, except for Spy because Spy didn’t like him. Hopefully whatever reason Spy had for disliking him wouldn’t get in the way of any teamwork that might be required of them in the future.
-
“Soldier’s loud and shouty sometimes but he’s a super cool guy once you get to know him,” Demo spoke in a low tone to Scout after halting outside the door labeled ‘REC ROOM’. “And don’t be offended when he calls you ‘maggot’, he means it in the kindest way possible.”
“How can calling someone ‘maggot’ be meant in kind way?” Scout asked but was ignored as Demo turned away to open the door, letting three of them in.
It was an exercise room, full of exercise stuff. Scout was not interested unless there was a track he could run around on in another room or maybe a swimming pool. Off to the side was a guy, presumably Solider, doing one armed pushups. He was counting them out loud too.
“Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five.” He swapped to using his other arm.
“Hey Solider,” Demo called. “The new guy finally came, come meet him.”
Solider paused before snapping up to his feet and coming over to investigate. He looked Scout up and down as if measuring his worth.
“Hey,” Scout said, trying not to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “You can call me ‘Scout’, I’m…”
“I’ll call you whatever I like maggot,” Solider interrupted.
“Don’t listen to him,” Demo said before Scout could object to the insult. “Solly, this is Scout, he’s the new guy, be nice.”
“Fine,” Solider said as if he were granting a favor. “Nice to meet you maggot, I’m sure you’ll make and excellent addition to the team.” He shook Scout’s hand, almost crushing it in a way too tight grip.
“Nice to meet you too.” Scout bore it with a grin, not even flinching a little bit. The way Solider nodded upon letting go implied he approved of that. Good, the more people Scout could get on the good side of early, the better. He even managed to resist the urge to clutch his aching hand to his chest afterward.
“You know where Sniper is?” Demo asked. “I’m going around introducing him to everyone and showing him around and all that. Pyro’s helping.” He gestured to Pyro before taking a drink from his bottle. Pyro wriggled in his fingers in greeting towards Solider.
Soldier thought about it for a few seconds, Scout could practically see the gears turning in his head as if it were a difficult question. “No, I do not know where Sniper is,” he said finally, looking back up.
“All right, we’ll find him eventually.”
Solider saluted. Demo returned it half-assed while Pyro returned it fully. Not knowing what else to do Scout followed their lead, getting another nod of approval from Solider. Weird but whatever.
Unexpectedly, Solider joined their tour party when they moved on. He took up the rear. His rigid stance implied he was on the look out for possible trouble as if they were on traversing through a dangerous area instead of their own ship base. Odd but not worth questioning, it was clear Solider was an odd fellow anyway.
-
Turns out there as a pool room but no track room. They were expected to get their running exercise on the treadmills, lame. Scout would rather jog around the ship’s halls even if that meant getting lost sometimes.
The next important place Demo led Scout – and company – to was the captain’s deck. It was where all the computers that ran the ship were located. They were far more complicated and high-tech than anything Scout had seen before. He wanted to touch them and mess around with them, see if he could figure out how to maneuver this thing but… alas, that would probably end with him getting fired. Maybe one day though… hopefully anyway.
After that Demo brought them to his work station where he made bombs and other things that exploded. And then Engie’s lab where Engie was currently working on something that Scout couldn’t even begin to guess the function of due to how its part were all laid out on the work table.
“Howdy,” he said, preoccupied and not even looking up from his work. “I’m a bit busy right now so I’m going to have to ask you leave.”
“Righty-ho, see you around,” Demo said before moving the party on.
They finally found this Sniper guy in the shooting range. He was kind of hot, tall and rugged looking with a cool hat. Would Scout get in trouble for flirting with a coworker? Maybe so it was best he didn’t, for now anyway.
“Hey Sniper, the final member of our team is here, come say ‘hi’,” Demo said.
Sniper lowered his gun and turned his head towards them. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Scout returned with a cocky grin. “I’m Scout, ace pilot and fastest runner in the galaxy.”
“I’m sure you are,” Sniper said dryly before turning back to his target practice.
“And that’s that,” Demo said with a chuckle, clapping his hands together. He leaned over to speak in Scout’s ear. “He’s one of them loner types, don’t like people much. But he’s cool… I think, haven’t really known him that long.”
“I can still hear you,” Sniper said, not looking away from his target practice.
“Whatever.” Demo shrugged. “Let’s go laddie, I think all that’s left to show you is the med-bay and introduce you to Medic.” He gestured for Scout follow him. A bit disappointed, Scout did so, hopefully he could talk to Sniper more later and hopefully get a chance to impress him.
“Be sure to make the target dummies pay dearly for their crimes,” Soldier said as he exited the room last behind Pyro. If Sniper responded in some way, it wasn’t loud enough for Scout to hear.
-
Everything about the med-bay from the moment they stepped in screamed
‘hospital’ and thus Scout instantly disliked it. Hospitals and doctors were the worst. It even smelled like a hospital, that unique unplaceable smell that brought to mind nothing but needles and freezing stethoscopes.
What was even worse though was the crazed look in the doctor’s eyes when he came out to greet them. “Ooh, a new patient, wonderful,” he said, sounding as if he were talking about a new toy he was excited to play with.
“Hello,” Scout said, pretending to not be afraid. The last thing he wanted was everyone to make fun of him for being scared of something as dumb as doctors and hospitals. Glancing back, he saw that Solider had mysteriously vanished from the party, maybe he didn’t like hospitals either. “I’m Scout.”
“’Medic’ or ‘Doctor’ is fine. Now you two shoo.” He made a shooing gesture with his hand towards Demo and Pyro. “It’s time I give Scout his physical.”
“Good luck lad.” Demo clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t die.” Pyro signed something at him before they both left, leaving Scout alone with Medic. He was tempted to protest that but it was too late and he didn’t want show fear. So instead, he followed Medic as he gestured him deeper in.
-
The physical was fairly standard fair. Medic took his blood pressure, checked his breathing and heartrate, all that ‘fun’ stuff. When the needle came out though was when Scout’s nerves broke.
“Nope, not happening,” he said, sliding off the examination table. “We are done here.” He started for the door.
Medic grabbed his upper arm, yanking him back. “You can either cooperate or I’ll have to force you.” He sounded like he meant it.
Scout jerked against his hold but he was stronger than he looked; Scout wouldn’t be getting away from him anytime soon. “Fine, fine, I’ll cooperate.” He’d much rather do that than test to see if and how Medic would force him to. “Just make it fast please.”
“Good.” Medic pulled him back the examination table, not taking any chances unfortunately.
Thankfully it was over fast, though still far too long for Scout’s liking. He was careful not to look at it. “Can I go now please?” he asked once Medic was done putting a little bandage on his arm.
“Yes, you may go for now.” Medic made a dismissive hand gesture. “There are more things I’ll need to do with you later though.”
Scout did not like that sound of that. “Like what?”
“If I told you, you’d be very upset so I won’t. You’ll be fine though I promise… probably. Death is always a possibility, so is infection, but it’s unlikely, kind of. Run along for now though, I need some time to analyze your blood sample.”
Scout groaned and retreated. He was not looking forward to whatever Medic had planned for him later but at least he was done now and could leave the horrid med-bay.
He went to his back to his room and only got a little lost on the way there. See? His sense of direction in this place was improving already.
He gratefully collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. He’d met everyone and seen everything, he could rest for a bit. For the most part he was pleased, Medic was scary and so was Pyro in a different way but less so, and Spy didn’t like him for some reason. Everyone else seemed cool and nice though even if a lot of them were a bit strange. But that would only make this adventure more fun though, right?
They’d be going off to a far off distant solar system – it might not actually be distant, he didn’t know – to fight over it and hopefully take it over. It was going to be fun.
Next
#Team Fortress 2#TF2#My AU#Space Mercenaries AU#Space AU#Scout#Pyro#Medic#Sniper#Demoman#Engineer#Heavy#Spy#Soldier#Space Ships
12 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mmprviolet
honey i killed the cringe
moeyynorris
Moeyy 🧡
shashashautaa
craving a mother's love
menina-agridoce
Equilíbrio.
dreamingfoxproductions
DreamingFox Productions