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just-my-fandom · 3 years

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Reader being the one to fight Matt and they reunite!!

Request 2: Hi. So uh, can I request a Voltron story? Where the reader used to date Matt Holt, but after he disappeared reader changed from the nerdy quiet girl she was to like a badass, and starts dating Keith. Thank you. Have a great day.

Request 3: any thing Voltron where reader gets hurt!!!

Summary: Now that Matt is back, he can’t help but feel that his (ex) girlfriends teammate is taking her away from him. Reader has to break to Matt that she has moved on after his disappearance and is now with the paladin of the black lion.

Date started; February 2, 2021

Date posted; March 1, 2021 (Jezus)

Warning(s); Cursing, fighting, blood, jealousy, angst.

Was not proof read.

Matt and reader have a past. This story is a Keith x Reader.

A/N: We’re slowly but surely getting things posted. Life’s been a bish lately so I haven’t been motivated to write. I had absolutely no idea how to end this, so it just cuts off.

Tagged; @boiled-onionrings

“What is this?” Your eyes narrow in thought. Narrow at the footsteps that close in behind you. Widen when you turn, and a man is swinging his blade straight at your head.

Your body is quick to push back, into the control panel so it flickered and powered off, your hands pushing off in an attempt to roll to the side.

Your hand pulls your bay-yard from your belt, twisting in time for your weapon to collide with your opponents, both grunting at the impact.

The figure shoves forward so you fall onto your back, gasping as your bay-yard slides feet from your reach, pushing to sit up and reach for your weapon.

The quick swipe of the males blade causes you to hiss and clutch your shoulder, lifting your foot high enough to kick him backwards, into the control panel like he had done to you prior.

You reach out and lift your bay-yard, slinging your arm out so it hit your opponent in the jaw, knocking his mask off and over his shoulder.

You lift your head, jaw clenched and weapon drawn, eyes widening as your lips part in a gasp, when you meet the gaze of your opponent,

“Matt?” You squeak, dropping your bay-yard so it clattered on the metal floor and quickly retracted into its holder, free hand pressed hard to where your fingers slowly held blood,

“Y/N,” Matt breathes, his body pushing to stand up from where he fell to his knees, arms pulling you tightly into his chest so you hissed a second time, his hands holding your arms as he leans back, examining your injury,

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” He exhales, your head shaking as tears burned your eyes from behind your helmet,

“Oh my god,” You heave, bloodied hands pulling your helmet off so he could fully look at your face, “Oh, god, you’re alive,”

“I’m alive,” Matt nods, hands caressing your head so he could lean his forehead to knock against yours, your eyes pinching shut before you lean back, opening your eyes.

“Just wait until Pidge sees you, and-and Shiro,”

“Wait, they’re with you?” Matt knits his brows together, as you glance down at the blood through your amor. It’ll be fine.

“Well, on their own mission,” You exhale, “Any chance you’ve heard of Voltron?”

“Of course I’ve heard of Voltron,”

“Well,” You repeat, smiling shyly as you look up at him, “We’re all Paladins,”

“No way,” Matt shakes his head, “That’s so cool!” He reaches forward to twirl you around, pausing when noticing you flinch at the movement of your shoulder.

“Come on,” Matt pulls back, hand at your arm, “Let me fix your shoulder,”

“Actually,” You lift your helmet off the floor, placing it over your head, “I have somewhere we can go,”

“HEY, look, Y/Ns back!” Hunk and Lance turn at the white lions appearance, the team of five moving forward as the lions jaw opened, your figure stepping out with a hand on your shoulder,

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Pidge asks, eyes narrowed as she moves up to you, but you smile, her brows pinching as footsteps sound behind you, her gaze looking over your shoulder and widening at Matt’s figure,

“Matt!” Pidge gasps, your smile softening as you step to the side, Shiro crossing his arms as he moves up to you,

“How’d you find him?” Shiro asks, calmly, your eyes flicking up to him.

“That so called secret base?” Shiro nods, “It was Matt’s. He returned as soon as I went in. Started fighting before we realized each other,”

“You did a good job,” Shiro smiles, and you nod, looking over at Pidge and Matt pulling out of their embrace, “Does he know?”

Shit. No. He doesn’t. He hasn’t even met Keith yet. “No,” You murmur, sighing as you turn, “I don’t know how to tell him,”

“That might be something you talk about in your own time,” Shiro raises his eyes from your shoulder to your eyes, watching you nod and brush past him, missing Matt’s worried glance.

“FOCUS, Keith!”

“I am focusing! You’re the one not focusing!”

“Now you’re just fucking with me,”

Matt stops at the doorway of the training deck. By now he had gotten a feel of where each room was located on the ship, which lead him to sneak off and search for you.

He watches silently as you slung your bay-yard at the red paladin- Keith, Matt thinks- leading Keith to jerk back and knock his own weapon to the metal, pushing you away from getting a hit on him.

It’s a quick tuck and roll as you duck away from Keith’s swing, your foot hooking around his leg to knock him on his back, your teammate grunting loudly at the impact his body made.

Knees pinned at his sides, your hands pin his shoulders down, lips pulling upward in a snort as Keith rolls his eyes, head dropping against the floor in defeat,

“You win,” Keith huffs, hands at your thighs as you raise your eyebrows, eyes flicking between his.

“Nice,” You grin, dropping one eyebrow, “Rematch?”

Matt frowns as Keith lifts his head, lips nearly against yours, “Absolutely not,”

“So you admit I’m better than you,” You lean back, sitting up so you were sitting on his legs, “I’ll take it,”

Keith narrows his eyes, gaze then shifting to the side, so you turned and your smile dropped.

“Matt,” You call, when the dirty blonde turns and exits the deck. You send a short glance down at Keith, pushing to stand up, “Matt, wait,”

Huffing at his refusal to turn around, you fasten your pace, “Matthew Holt, look at me!”

“Oh, so now you care?” Matt turns, sharply, arms crossed as he watches your brows furrow and footsteps stop.

“Matt, I always cared,” You breathe, shaking your head, “You’d been gone for years. I had to do what was right for me and move on. I should have told you when you first came back, but I didn’t know how,”

“So you two?” Matt’s eyes flick to the door of the training deck, and you nod, gazing down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” You say, lifting your gaze, “As the paladin of the white lion, my main focus has always been saving earth. Im not the girl you once knew, who only read books and was afraid to talk to anyone outside my little circle. I’m a paladin now. I save people,”

You glance to the side, silently moving back to the training deck where Matt frowns, jaw clenching in defeat. He had lost you, years ago.

“ARE you two okay?”

Lance and Hunk skid to a stop into the abandoned ships control room, both breathing heavily through their helmets, “We’re fine,” Lance heaves, “But we need to get out of here, now!”

“Why?” Pidge rushes, “What happened?”

“It was-,” Hunk pauses, shock still in his system, “Monster- blue flash- I had rotten food goo,”

“Wait,” Lance stops his teammate, eyes narrowed in thought, “Where’s Keith and Y/N?”

YOUR eyes scan the empty hall. Galra bots float, lifeless, Keith and Kosmo floating beside you, “Hello?” Keith calls, Kosmo growling in defense,

“What are you?” The robotic voice of the remaining Galra bot causes you to pause, eyes squinting. The bot repeats his question, Keith raising his flashlight to the bots face,

“My name is Keith,” Keith starts, head barely tilting towards you, “This is Y/N. We are Paladins of Voltron. Paladins of the Black and White lions,”

“Wait,” You speak, “Yordum Bering Exus. Is that you?”

“Where are the rest of the Galra?” The bot asks, your head turning to look at Keith,

“They’re still on Planet Ryker. Why?”

“Planet Ryker,” The robot repeats, before it pushes forward, your eyes widening at the large monster behind it.

“Keith,” You alert, reaching to grab his arm so he tugged you into him, sharply, avoiding the sudden purple blast ray that the monster- Sentry- send, his shield coming up to block the second shot, shoving you and him both into the metal wall beside you.

You grunt out in pain at the impact, Keith pushing you to the side so you rammed into Kosmo, who quickly teleported next to Keith, Keith grabbing your hip protectively as you vanish.

“Keith, Y/N and I were in communication before we got disconnected,” Pidge explains to Lance, hearing Matt in her earpiece ask in a panic,

“You lost contact with them?”

“Keith and Y/N can hold their own together,” Allura breathes, “We need to figure out what that thing is,”

You reappear in the control room, gasps wheezed in fear before you push away from Keith, eyes wide, “What the hell was that?”

“What?” Pidge rushes, “What did you guys see?”

“Some- monster!” You heave, hearing Matt’s voice glitch in your earpiece as it gained connection,

“Oh thank God,”

“The base you sent this fleet to plunder, was it Warlord ranveigs?” Keith rushes, flying up to Lahn.

“Yes. It was,” Lahn answers, shortly, Allura glancing at you in alert.

“Keith, what’s going on?”

“The creature on this ship is a superweapon designed to destroy the Galra, and only Galra,” Keith starts,

“Warlord Ranveig would never create such a thing,” Lahn hisses, Keith shaking his head.

“Ranveig found the creature in the Quantum Abyss and experimented on it with Lotors Quintessence,”

“How do you know so much on this, Keith?” You ask, floating up between Pidge and Allura.

“Krolia and I let it lose so we could escape Ranveigs base,” Keith sighs, eyes fluttering shut, “This is all my fault,”

You shake your head, ignoring the glare Lahn sends your teammate, “Pidge, can you set a protocol that could self destruct this place? We need to get rid of the ship, and that monster,”

“Once I set it we’ll only have two minutes to leave the ship,” Pidge rushes, fingers pressing buttons, before she turns, waving a gloved hand, “Go. Go!”

You turn, jaw clenching at Sentrys appearance at the side door, “All Galra must perish,”

You yelp as the monster lunges forward, darting to the side before flying up with your jet pack, rushing for the door. Your front slams into the now shut door, fist curling to punch the metal before you look over, realizing Keith, too, had been trapped.

“Guys!” You shout, eyes wide in terror as you face Sentry, pulling out your bay-yard as he flew forward, you and Keith dodging in different directions so Sentry slammed into the doors front.

You hiss as Sentrys tail wraps around your body, pinning your arms at your sides, your gasp cut short as his tail flicks, hard, sending you into the metal wall feet away.

Your vision swims black, growing blurry as your lungs gasp for air, the sudden pain in your ribs causing you unable to move. Keith looks over as Sentry roared, rushing to you, Keith’s body protectively shielding yours as his shield protects himself, shoving you both into the wall a second time.

“Stay awake, Y/N!” Keith demands, rushes, arm at your lower back keeping you from floating away from him. His bay-yard shifts into a large gun, blasting at the monster before he turns and aims, shooting a hole into the locked door.

“Go!” Keith demands to his team, jet pack activating as he rushes forward,

“What happened to Y/N?!” Lance rushes, looking back at the distant explosion, where his eyes widen at the fire rising.

With a heatwave, the team of seven are thrown into space, the black lion quick to catch you and Keith so Keith landed on his feet, looking out his front visor where the white lion floated in front of his own.

“Let’s get her to the castle,” Keith demands, looking down at where your hand pressed to your rib, blood at your lips, “Stay with me, okay?”

You whimper, head tilting back before it leans to the side, dropping onto his shoulder.

“WHAT happened?” Matt and Shiro move forward towards their friend, Keith moving past them with you in his arms,

“The thing we had to destroy, attacked us, twice,” Keith hisses, teeth bared as he bends down to stand you on your feet inside the healing pod, stepping back in time for it to zap shut,

“She only seemed to be in danger around you,” Matt seethes, Keith looking over his shoulder to glare at the dirty blonde,

“What was that?”

“Do I need to dumb it out for you?” Matt steps up, ignoring Shiros call, “You’re the reason she got hurt. You’re the reason she left me!”

“Y/N left you because you ran off into space,” Keith snarls, Shiro and Pidge both jumping between the two so Keith stepped back, jaw clenched.

“Now is not the time to be fighting,” Shiro orders, Pidge nodding then shaking her head as she points to your unconscious, healing figure,

“Y/N needs you both right now, as much as you might hate it. So shut up and be here for her when she wakes up,”

Matt’s eyes shift from Pidge to Keith, Keith firmly crossing his arms over his armored chest before facing the healing pod.

Matt watches as Keith’s eyes drift to his bloodied gloves, glare faltering before looking back up to you.

Pidge exhales a heavy breath and follows Shiro, reluctantly, out of the med-bay, Matt crossing his own arms and scanning his eyes across your face.

“I’m sorry I came out rude,” He starts, Keith barely side glancing him, “It just, sucks. Coming back from being in space prison to find out your girlfriend moved on,”

“Y/Ns a lot different now than she used to be,” Keith reminds, “When I first met her I was an asshole and she was quiet. We didn’t click right away. But I found a meaning to my team and she’s apart of my team. It just- happened,”

“She’s definitely different,” Matt chuckles, Keith raising an eyebrow, “When I ran into her, I didn’t know she could fight like that,”

“She didn’t learn from me, that’s for sure,” Keith smirks, which instantly falls as the heal pod beeps, opening so Keith’s arms shot out to catch your leaning figure,

“That was quick,” Matt mutters, Keith shooting him a glance before you lift your head, brows pinched in discomfort,

“What happened?” Your eyes shift from Matt to Keith, who’s muscles visibly relaxed to see you up and moving. Matt noticed.

“We’ll tell you about it later,” Matt steps up, smiling lightly, “I’ll let the others know you’re okay,” Matt’s eyes meet Keith’s, his nod short before he steps back and out the door.

Maybe, just maybe, Matt forgave him.

#keith kogane one shot #keith kogane imagine #keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #Keith imagine #voltron #voltron one shot #voltron x reader #voltron imagine #Matt Holt #Matt Holt x reader #Matt Holt imagine #Matt Holt one shot

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squidgamesmut · 2 years

Text

The Guardian Angel | Chapter 5 - Anything but serendipity

Seong Gi-hun X Female Reader

Chapter 5/14 : Anything but serendipity

Minors DNI Contains heavy spoilers The Guardian Angel navigation post

You fingered the utterly ordinary jumper you had pulled over your head, and felt naked without the finery you usually wore around the facility. The luxurious ways of the Squid Game’s highest ranks were perhaps getting to your head, and going back to something less pompous for once would be a good change of circumstance.

You barely recognised your usually so refined grandfather, who was now wearing a moss-coloured button-up a few sizes too big, just like his tracksuit had been. Perhaps it had been part of his wardrobe long ago, before earnt enough to get his suits made to measure for each and every occasion, in a time where he was still healthy and standing up straight. His age and posture made him appear smaller than he was.

“Behind all that stunning make-up and those jewels,” your grandfather said with a genuine smile, “Hides a lady who is just as beautiful. Isn’t that so, Front Man?”

In-ho’s lip quirked upwards. “Yes, sir, very much so.” His eyes met yours across the room. The compliment from both of them made you slightly blush, and you turned away your face to conceal it.

“It feels odd,” you admitted, “And perhaps that fact is a disgrace on its own. A disconnect from reality, if anything.”

Your philosophical pondering was met with silence, and you sighed. “Any news yet?”

The Front Man pressed onto his earpiece. “Any visuals of Mr Seong Gi-hun yet?”

There was mumbling. “He’s hanging around in Ssangmun-dong.” the Front Man explained to you after receiving the information, “Has been for a few hours now. You two could go there before dark, especially when seeing the weather forecast.”

You and your grandfather locked eyes, and he gave you a kind smile. “Time to speak to my potential friend,” Il-nam said with excitement in his voice, “I had not expected to find someone who would care about me there. I’ve seen them ignore the older guys for years now, (Y/n). This one is special, I tell you. At least to me.”

“Is that the only reason why you want to speak to him, grandfather?” you inquired, standing up to follow him to the door. You took his coat from the hook and helped him put it on. It was a deep shade of green and made him look like a regular elderly man.

Your own coat was longer, reaching to your knees, and heavy on the shoulders.

“Yes, my dear.” your grandfather said, “If I go back in there, what fun would it be without him? I need to tell him that I will return to the Game. And you are coming along as my granddaughter who provides me with a home whilst I’m there.”

You frowned in confusion, putting on your mask. It appeared extremely out of place compared to the rest of your outfit.

It had been a long time since you had worn regular sneakers, but they were comfortable and you made a mental note to perhaps wear them more often if the situation allowed it to be so, and turned to Il-nam, who was waiting for you to join him outside, where a helicopter was awaiting you on the roof.

“What is our story?” you asked him, taking the umbrella he held out to you.

“Well,” your grandfather began, “Mr Gi-hun knows about my tumour. You’ve recently moved into Ssangmun-dong and I’m staying with you for a while. I’ve got nowhere else to go and need to go to the hospital for regular check-ups.”

Only a half-truth. You swallowed thickly.

“Our chauffeur will locate Mr Seong Gi-hun and drop us off a street away, so that we can walk towards him by foot.”

“What if he returns home in the meantime?” you quizzed. Your hair started to become tousled by the whirring blades of the helicopter as soon as you stepped out of the lift, onto the roof.

You rushed towards the open door and helped your grandfather inside before following suit, buckling up and putting on headphones to be able to hear one another.

“That, my dear, is a concern for later, if that particular scenario should happen.”

The helicopter began to ascend and you looked out of the window, watching how the island slowly disappeared underneath you. Soon, it was out of sight, heading for Seoul.

~*~*~

The umbrella in your hand was heavy but absolutely necessary. With Oh Il-nam’s declining health, it was out of the question to not bring it along. Rain pattered on the nylon surface above you and leaked onto the ground. Not wearing any make-up had been a good call, for now you didn’t need to worry about it starting to wash off in the downpour.

Your grandfather’s pace was not as quick as it had been during the game of Red Light, Green Light. But then, this very situation was different. The chauffeur had dropped you off three blocks away to prevent any unwanted attention, and you guided your grandfather by letting him hold onto your arm towards the spot Seong Gi-hun had been last located.

In the meantime, you knew, they were slipping another card into his home. Another invitation on top of the one Il-nam would extend to him. For some reason, your stomach began to twist with nerves.

Had you been walking in heels, the distance you covered would’ve been way more difficult to cross, but you eventually showed up at the convenience store where Seong Gi-hun indeed sat. He looked different in person, you thought to yourself as you passed him under the bright light of the fluorescent tubes of the store.

Heading inside, your grandfather turned to you. “That’s him,” he hissed as if people would be able to hear him otherwise, “That’s Mr Seong Gi-hun. I am going to get some ramyeon and join him, pretending to not have noticed him at first. Join me a minute or two later, alright?”

You shot a discreet glance over to the sulking man outside. Next to him stood a halfway-finished bottle of soju and there was a visible stain on the sleeve of his jacket. Whatever was bothering him, you knew that he was going through something difficult.

“Of course, grandfather.” you said. “I will join you two outside in a minute or so and… Well, I’ll come up with something.”

Your grandfather gave you a pat on the shoulder and smiled. “Good, good.” He strode towards the tray with countless bags of cheap ramyeon and chose the least costly bag. In the meantime, you went to busy yourself with pretending to be interested in buying some dried fruit, and watched from the corner of your eye how Il-nam paid and shuffled outside.

Seong Gi-hun’s sour mood had not been lifted by the alcohol yet, and he doubted that one bottle would be enough. The pouring rain had not yet lessened, and he stared into his empty cup blankly.

“Wait,” a voice before him said, “Aren’t you…” For a second, Gi-hun looked up, but soon recognised the man in front of him. It was the old man from the Game, who looked at him with a smile on his face.

“Oh, it’s a small world.” Gi-hun gawked.

“It’s you. You are Player 456, right?”

“Uh, yeah!” Gi-hun stammered. “That’s me. Yeah.” He was still taken aback by the man’s sudden appearance.

“What are the chances? So then, what are you doing around here?” the old man asked him curiously.

Gi-hun pointed somewhere behind him. “Actually, I live right down the road. And you?”

The old man laughed a little and nodded.

“You come from around this area as well?” Gi-hun wanted to know.

“Uh, no.” the old man said with a chuckle. “My granddaughter lives nearby, she’s in the store and I’m waiting for her. So… There isn’t anywhere for this old man to go. I’m just staying there for a while.” He laughed but was obviously overcome by a sudden wave of discomfort. Worried, Gi-hun pointed at the seat in front of him.

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

“Sure.” Il-nam said, taking place opposite of him. They both chuckled a bit.

“What are the odds you’re here at the same time as me?”

“What are the odds, right?” The old man leaned closer. “You know I think… That we were destined to meet here!”

Gi-hun exhaled and looked at his empty cup again. “Uh, would you like a little?” The old man gladly accepted.

“Is your head okay? Are you allowed to drink?” Gi-hun suddenly realised.

“It’s alright.” Il-nam assured, holding up the cup to have it filled up a bit.

With a content smile, he drank the soju, flinching a bit at the bite.

“Uh, sorry.” Gi-hun spoke, “I wish I had some food for the two of us.”

The old man shook his head. “It’s okay.” He reached into the plastic bag he had been carrying and took out an orange-coloured pack of ramyeon, causing Gi-hun to smile.

They opened the package and shook some of the spicy seasoning over the dry noodles, getting themselves comfortable with their snack.

Gi-hun munched on the crispy ramyeon, closing his eyes to enjoy it a bit more. The old man reached for the bottle of soju, but was quickly stopped by Gi-hun, who took it from his hands.

“Are you absolutely sure you can have this much? I mean, you had a lot of it already.”

Il-nam hummed and took another sip. His new cup of soju caused you to take your cue and join the two outside, a plastic bag in hand.

“Oh, grandfather, there you are! What did I say about drinking so much?”

You approached him and put your hand on his shoulder. For a second, you locked eyes with Gi-hun across the table and gave an apologetic smile. “Really grandfather, what did the doctor tell you again?!”

Seong Gi-hun’s eyes widened. In front of him stood suddenly a young woman who had been said to live nearby. Still, he did not recognise her despite living here for his whole life. A face as pretty as yours, he certainly would have remembered.

“My dear, ah, why don’t you sit down?” your grandfather said, “This is my friend, uh…” he gestured towards Gi-hun.”

You stepped closer to Gi-hun and held out your hand to shake it. “(L/n) (Y/n).”

“Seong Gi-hun.” he replied, shaking it gingerly. His palm felt suddenly way more clammy than it had been before and he let out a shaky breath. Your hand was warm upon his, and your smile lit up the whole place.

“Nice to meet you.” you said. Gi-hun rose a little, gesturing towards a chair nearby.

“By all means, come sit with us.”

You gave a gentle nod and brought said chair to the table, sitting in between your grandfather and Gi-hun, with your back turned to the store, out of the rain.

“How do you know my grandfather?” you asked him, “I’ve never heard any Seong Gi-hun be mentioned.”

Gi-hun’s cheeks flushed a bit by the sound of you pronouncing his name. He wasn’t used to pretty women talking to him, let alone in such a friendly way.

“We’ve uh… We’ve met uh…” His gaze flickered over to your grandfather, who looked at him expectantly. “We met on a train.” Gi-hun lied, “We talked about… Uh…”

“Music.” said your grandfather, “Yes, because I was seeing a book he was reading on Beethoven.”

You nodded, smiling a bit. “Another person who can appreciate classical music!” you said, putting your hand onto the one of your grandfather. “How come you haven't talked about… Well, never mind that.”

Gi-hun shifted in his seat. “Would you like some soju, Miss (L/n)?”

His polite bashfulness caused you to smile. “Call me (Y/n). A friend of my grandfather is a friend of mine… And yes please, just a little bit will do.” you said. “Don’t want to be a burden.”

Il-nam slid you the empty cup and Gi-hun poured you a drink, “Thank you,” you breathed before taking a careful sip. “After a long day, that’s something I can enjoy thoroughly.”

Your grandfather stood up and looked at you and Gi-hun. “Let me get some more ramyeon and soju. This rain won’t be over for another twenty minutes at least. May as well make the best of it.”

You gave him a worried glance when he walked back inside, leaving you and Gi-hun to yourself. “Don’t take it personally that my grandfather has never mentioned you to me. He tends to…” you paused to take a sad breath, for this was not a whole lie, “He tends to forget things.”

Gi-hun gave you a look of both pity and admiration. “Is that why he’s staying with you?”

You nodded, wryly smiling. “He once left the stove on for an entire night a few weeks ago. I knew then that it would be best to take him into my own apartment just to keep an eye on him. He occasionally wanders off, but I know that the local shelter is always keeping an eye out for him, so I don’t need to worry if he disappears for a day or two.”

Lifting the glass to your lips, you finished the soju. “I am sorry to hear that,” Gi-hun said, nervously rubbing his legs. “Ah… Isn’t he a bother to you and your husband?”

“Husband?” you said with some amusement in your voice. The twinkle behind your (e/c) eyes caused Gi-hun’s heart to skip a beat. “I am not married, Gi-hun.”

“Betrothed, then?”

You laughed, a sound that made Gi-hun feel fuzzy inside instantly. There was something wholly unfamiliar and welcoming about you, and he had no idea how he had not noticed you around Ssangmun-dong before.

“No, no. I haven’t found the love of my life yet.” you said with a sad sigh.

Gi-hun shyly smiled and bit his bottom lip.

“I’d rather have some financial stability first to start a family.” you whispered. “I’ve only been living here for a few weeks, but I have yet to find a job.”

That explained his lack of familiarity with you, Gi-hun thought to himself.

“You and me both,” he breathed, “I mean… I have a job, but it doesn’t pay much.” He puffed out his chest in an attempt to appear more confident. “I’m a chauffeur, and I make deliveries around Seoul.”

You smiled at him, something so genuine about your expression that Gi-hun barely knew where to look. “I uh…” he cleared his throat and blushed, “I’m divorced and have a daughter. Things are hard right now, but hopefully it will get better.”

He decided to not speak about his mother, for he didn’t want to burden you with his own worries on top of the concern you had about your grandfather already.

“I am sure it will, Gi-hun.” you said, reaching over to put a friendly hand on his. The gesture made Gi-hun’s throat run dry, and he swallowed thickly.

The door opened and your grandfather exited the store. “My dear,” he said, “Will you check inside for a second? I don’t have enough won so maybe you could pay with your card?”

You stood up and brushed past him into the shop, a gentle tap on your arm upon passing making you aware that you should take some time in paying, so that he could discuss with Gi-hun about the Game, something you were supposed to be oblivious about.

With keen eyes, you occasionally looked at the two men conversing, pretending to adjust some settings of the bank app on your phone with the excuse that you did not have enough money in your account.

Gi-hun watched how your grandfather sat down again and let his gaze flick to you for a split second, seemingly immersed into your mobile phone.

“I have decided to go again.”

“Go where?” Gi-hun queried, staring at him. The old man cleared his throat, and realisation hit Gi-hun. “You’re going there?”

Il-nam nodded. “Since my…” he paused, exhaling deeply, “Since my time’s almost out as it is. I don’t want to sit around waiting to die. That sounds pathetic. And who knows, I still could go there and win the whole thing. When we played Red Light, Green Light, I got to the line even before you did.” He smiled proudly.

Gi-hun was not convinced. “How could you want to go there?” he questioned.

“As soon as I got back here, I got some harsh reminders. Yeah, what they say is true.” Il-nam explained. “Out here, the torture is worse. I don’t want my granddaughter to live through that same life of poverty without end.”

Gi-hun looked through the window to watch you pay for the ramyeon and soju, and saw how your card got declined again. “If I win,” the old man stated, “I am doing it for her. I want to leave her something she can rely on for a while, so that she can sort her life out. Get married, have some children. A legacy I can be proud of.”

Tears had appeared in the corners of Il-nam’s eyes, and he blinked them away. “If I lose my life in those games, then so be it. If I remain here, I will be nothing but a burden, another mouth to feed. In there, I have another chance at life - not for myself, but for her.”

Gi-hun looked at him, touched by his words. “Just consider… If the life out here is worth more than the life you could have after those games. In the end, we gamble with our lives all the time by making certain choices that are irreversible. Why not take a shot in the dark and see where it takes us, hm?”

“I’m really sorry,” your voice sounded from the threshold of the store as you made your way outside. “My card keeps declining so I cannot pay for the food.”

Gi-hun reached for his pocket. “Ah, don’t worry, I’ll pay for it!”

You smiled and put your hand on your grandfather’s shoulder. “Oh, Gi-hun, thank you, but there is no need. It is alright, for we actually had to go home anyways. Can’t have my grandfather in bed past eleven, it’s not good for him. Plus, he already had way more soju than the doctor allowed.”

Your grandfather stood up and you grabbed the umbrella that was leaning against the wall. “It was nice to meet you, Mr Seong Gi-hun,” you said, allowing your grandfather to hook his hand into your arm. “It doesn't happen often that I meet friends of my grandfather. You’re a kind man.”

Gi-hun blushed a little, beaming at you. Your whole demeanour made him feel warm, from your sweet smile to the way you cared for your grandfather, to the way you so confidently carried yourself.

“It was nice to meet you too, (Y/n).” said Gi-hun, clearing his throat. “Will I see you around?”

“Who knows, you just might.” you smiled. “Have a good night.”

“Likewise.” Gi-hun responded, watching how you and your grandfather walked away from him under the umbrella to stay dry. “(Y/n)...” he whispered under his breath, sighing deeply.

Your grandfather chuckled a little, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think of him?” You took out your phone and told the chauffeur to pick you two up in a minute.

“He seems like a very nice and sincere man.” you said. “Just such a shame that life has gotten to him so hard.”

“He seemed to be into you.” your grandfather teased. “The way he was looking at you, it was clear that he was starstruck!”

You gave a roll of your eyes but could not prevent your growing smile. “Oh, grandfather, don’t be silly. Something like that could never work.”

He laughed, squeezing your arm. You reached for your purse to take out the two heavy golden masks to don them right away.

A dark car pulled up next to you in order to bring the pair of you back to the helicopter.

“You did not say you are not attracted to him.”

“Grandfather,” you breathed, “You know that I am married to my work.”

Il-nam huffed a laugh whilst you got into the car and looked at you with sparkling eyes.

“I know, my dear. But sometimes it is good to think about your own future for once. Keep that in mind. You played your part splendidly, and I think that he is bound to return.”

The car shifted into motion, and you narrowed your eyes, watching how the streetlights passed by the window. Fingering a few rough edges of the fox mask, you sighed and sunk away in thought, wondering about what was to come.

#the guardian angel #seong gihun x reader #squid game #reader insert #gi hun x reader #squid game x reader #seong gi hun #x reader #squid game fanfic #squidgame #gi-hun x reader

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Nightmare- (8)

Warnings: none, really

Word Count: 2k+

Minho looked in the mirror. His eyes were red and his face was puffy, tears streaking his cheek. He looked pathetic. Weak.

He’d gone to your room. All your stuff was still there. He opened your drawers, realizing some of your clothes were missing.

There was nothing but anger in his heart as he pulled on his jacket, grabbing his phone and leaving the house with his heart heavy and weighed down.

He didn’t exactly know which friend you’d be staying with, though he had a few ideas. You only had one female friend, so he called her up.

“Hi, Chaeyoung?”

“Oh...Minho?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. “I was just wondering if Y/n ever came by.”

There’s a pause of hesitation on the other end. All he could hear was some shuffling and some random sounds.

“P-please.” He sniffed. More shuffling.

“Chae, please don’t answer, I-”

The call cut off, and he stared at his phone. That was definitely your voice that he’d heard.

Minho knew where the girl lived, since he sometimes dropped you off at hers. He tried to mentally recall the address as he made his way out, getting into his car.

On the way there, Minho’s grip was tight on the steering wheel. His head felt a little better after taking Tylenol, but his heart felt like it was trapped in an iron maiden.

He’d had sex. With you.

He rubbed his temples as he finally reached, stumbling out of the car and making his way upstairs.

He stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath before he knocked on your door.

When you finally opened, he felt like there was something stuck in his throat as you opened your mouth a little, closing it.

“M-minho...”

He couldn’t speak. Everything still felt so fucking raw. Cause there you were in front of him, your oversized sweater falling off your shoulder, neck still adorned with the hickeys he’d left the night before. It was all too painful.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

You shook your head, eyes wet as you stepped back a little, trying to close the door. He stopped you, sticking his foot in the doorway.

“Please? Just...”

You paused, eyes narrowed. “What more do you have to say to me?”

“Please, I just...you can’t just leave like this! We’ve known each other for sixteen years, you can’t just go-”

“Exactly! Sixteen years of friendship, and at the end of it all I was just another girl for your bed.”

“W-what?”

You bit your lip, the tears flowing freely now. “I’ve never been the special one. And I realize now that it was foolish to think that you would ever see me in such a light. Once upon a time, I was content being your friend, but now I’m not anymore.”

“You’re not just a friend. You’re my best friend.” Minho didn’t know why he couldn’t just confess to you already. He just couldn’t say the words he desperately wanted to let out.

You stayed silent, watching him as he opened his mouth again, struggling to get out what he wanted to say.

“You’re my closest friend. You’re not just another girl for my bed, I promise. You were right, last night was a mistake. But our friendship isn’t.” He sniffed. “It’ll never happen again. Neither of us remember it very well, right? We’ll just forget about it. Just...come back home.”

You watched, your face passive as you comprehended his words. It may be true that Minho couldn’t remember last night, but you hadn’t drunk as much as him, and hence you could remember some bits. The memories were fresh in your mind.

“I don’t know...things feel too different. I’ll stay here for a little longer...I need space right now. You have to understand that sex might be a simple thing for you, but it isn’t for me. It isn’t just a pastime, or something I can just forget.”

Minho nodded. “I understand that, but-”

He was cut off by his phone ringing. He took it out, glancing at the caller ID. It was an unknown number, but it looked vaguely familiar. He went to disconnect, but you shook your head. “Answer.”

He sighed, lifting the phone to his ear as he answered.

“Hi, Minho, miss me?” He heard a giggle on the other end, causing a shiver to run through him.

“It’s Rina.” He mouthed at you. Your eyes widened a little. “Put it on speakerphone.” You whispered, moving a little closer.

He did so, holding the phone out.

“Hi, Rina. How...how are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?” Another giggle. “I’m guessing you had a good night, judging from the way you two were making out before you left the party.”

He chuckled nervously, glancing at you. “Y-yeah.”

“Hmm...I’m gonna be honest, I had my doubts about you two at first. I’m sorry about my threat. I understand now. It would have been pretty shitty of you to cheat on your girlfriend...so I’m alright with having been humiliated at the party.”

Minho didn’t say anything, fear in his face as he made eye contact with you. You were biting your lip, confusion etched across your features.

“I admit I found it a little suspicious at first. You two were just friends, up until the time I made that threat? It was unusual. Huge coincidence.” She laughed. “But I was being immature. I’m really sorry. To make it up to you, I was thinking of inviting you two to a dinner! Juyeon’ll be there too, so it’ll kinda be like a double date. Sound fun?”

The two of you looked at each other. Was she being sincere? It was hard to discern. Her voice was too sickly sweet. Was there something fishy going on?

“We should agree.” You mouthed.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “But it sounds too fishy!” He whisper-hissed.

“It’ll be fishier if we say no.” You whispered back.

Minho rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the girl still rambling away. “Okay, Rina. Looking forward to it.”

“Not to brag, but I’m a pretty good cook. I can’t wait! Bye, see you tomorrow evening at Juyeon’s apartment, okay? I’ll send you the address...or just ask Y/n, I’m sure she’s been there before.”

The call cuts off. The two of you straightened up.

You sighed. “I guess we have somewhere to go tomorrow.”

Minho looks over at you, inhaling as he pocketed the phone. “Are you sure? I thought you said you needed space.”

“Yeah. I did, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. That girl’s lowkey dangerous, and I don’t want either of us to get on her bad side. I still care about you, but you have to realize that last night definitely changed things between us. I need time to rethink our relationship.”

Minho knew that you thought that he didn’t truly understand the weight of last night’s event. You thought sex was just a hobby for him...and it was. However, he’d felt things last night that he’d never felt before, and he wanted to explore those feelings. The sex last night wasn’t something mindless or hollow. He’d been completely invested through it. His heart had been throbbing as much as, if not more than, his cock. But there was a sense of doom hanging over him...he still harbored the fear that you hated him.

“Y/n...it was just sex.”

You looked up at him, shaking your head, “And that’s exactly the problem.” You whispered.

He didn’t respond, shifting from one foot to the other. An awkward silence hung between the two of you.

A minute later, you spoke up. “Fine...I’ll come home.”

Minho looked up, his eyes wide. “You will?!”

You nodded, eyes downcast. At this point, you’d given up. It wasn’t like you could blame Minho. Sex was in his nature. You were the stupid one, to have thought that he could possibly feel for you the same way you did. He was your best friend, at the end of the day, and that was all he would be. You could learn to accept that. You would.

Minho’s smile was wide, and it made your heart melt. You mentally scolded yourself.

“Oh, by the way, why’d she say that you’ve been to Juyeon’s before?”

You rolled your eyes. “We were project partners. We met up at each other’s places to work on it.”

“I don’t remember him coming over.”

“That’s cause you’re never home anyway. Just wait here for a few minutes, I’ll go get my stuff.”

You went back inside, leaving Minho to wait outside as you grabbed your bag and thanked Chaeyoung for letting you stay.

As Minho waited, he felt himself calm down a bit. Yeah, you were angry at him, but it would pass. Just like it always did. He knew it wasn’t fair. He kept hurting you, and you kept forgiving him...you honestly deserved better than him.

“I’m in love with Y/n.” He repeated the phrase in mind, chuckling a bit. It felt so unreal...but it was reality. He wasn’t scared anymore, though. After last night, he knew what he was feeling was too real for him to ignore. He was deeply, madly in love with you. Always had been.

But there was still some residual fear in his heart. Even if he could work up the courage to confess, he didn’t know if you’d react positively. He’d been an asshole. Why would you trust anything he says? He’d screwed you over and apologized a thousand times. So many promises to ‘change’...but he never did.

“You have to try.” He told himself, just as you came back out. You’d changed your shirt, but the marks he’d left were still clearly visible. It made his heart throb, knowing that they were his. It excited him to think of how your clothes were covering all the other marks he’d left on your body. His personal favorites were the ones he’d sucked onto your boobs and waist. He-

“Earth to Minho?”

He snapped back to attention. “Wha? Oh, yeah. Come on.” You followed him to his car.

As he drove back, he glanced at you. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You let out a noncommittal hum as he looked out the window. “That word coming out of your mouth has lost all meaning, Minho.”

He inhaled deeply as he reached the apartment. “This time, I really am.”

You got out, staying silent as you made your way upstairs.

He followed, frowning as you went straight to your room as soon as he unlocked the door.

“Wait, please. We should talk-”

“Sorry, I have an assignment due. We’ll talk later.”

You smiled apologetically at him before shutting the door. Minho groaned, plopping down on the couch as he threw his head back in frustration. He needed to let out his feelings for you. After years of them being buried, now that he’d finally realized them, they were bubbling up, eager to escape.

His eyes landed on your tattered shirt from last night. Picking it up, he winced at the ruined material. Jesus, he must have really been out of control. He wished he could remember.

He knew he owed you a better apology. You deserved to know his true feelings. It didn’t matter if you rejected him...this was his chance to be a decent best friend. He didn’t want to lose you...didn’t want to scare you off. But he knew that if he kept it all in, he’d just end up hurting you more.

He sighed, going to the balcony to get some fresh air. He saw your guitar lying on your chair, a soft smile appearing on his face as he recalled all the times you played to him.

Yeah, he was scared. He was well aware that his confession would change everything. But he would hold on to these memories, no matter what happens. You were more than just a best friend. You were his home. After a long day at the dance studio, you were all that could cheer him up.

You, playing your guitar. You, getting mad when he ‘sang better than you’ despite not having had any vocal lessons. You, baking cookies for him and nearly burning the kitchen down in the process. You, Gyu in hand, standing in his doorway after having had a particularly terrifying nightmare. You...cuddling up against him as he stroked your hair, calming you down.

He hated himself for forgetting about his plans with you that night. He never wanted to hurt you, not when you were the only one that was always there for him. Him, not his dick or his status. Yet, hurting you was all that he seemed to be doing, lately.

He sat in your chair, taking your little lyric notebook and reading through it, flipping until he got to his favorite one, the one titled ‘Nightmare’.

The song always calmed him down, for some reason. The lyrics felt so profound and raw...he could feel the music rooting itself deep into his heart. Every single time you played him that song, his heart would tighten and tears would prick his eyes. He didn’t know why.

The afternoon sun was hot, but there was still a light breeze tickling his face as he closed his eyes, humming the tune in his head.

You watched from the living room, hands on the french door leading to the balcony as you sighed, hating the fact that your heart was still pounding. Listening to the melody that meant so much to you leaving his lips hurt. He had no idea it was about him...and you had to try your best to keep it that way.

519 notes · View notes

basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words.

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back.

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to.

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back.

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you.

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who’s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight.

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x #peter parker soulmate au #soulmate au #spider-man x reader #spider-man x black!reader #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #slow burn #black!reader

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kpopdreamlands · 3 years

Text

t h r e e | | a l l t h e l i e s w e t e l l

↞previous ... next↠

words: 2.4K

warnings: violence, mafia

She just laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of whether to cry or laugh. Either way, it was over. Ara had sat her psychology finals, failed them inevitably, and binged on three hours of dramas and ice-cream out of self-pity. Ah, what a life. Rolling over at the sound of her phone, she answered with an empty voice.

'Yeoboseyo?'

'Eonnie~' a voice answered on the opposite end, dripping with honey.

'What do you want, Choi Hyun?' Ara asked, very obviously not in the mood to entertain the younger girl.

'Whatever do you mean?' Hyun exclaimed, feigning offendedness. When Ara gave no reply, she sighed and dropped the act. 'Fine, I'm hungry. Feed me. I'm at the cafe right now.' Of course, Ara knew exactly where she was, and why she was there instead of studying.

'You're procrastinating,' Ara stated simply. There was an incoherent grumble on the other side. Abruptly getting up, Ara headed to her room. 'Welp, if you fail your finals, that's on you. But who am I to say no to the dalgona coffee calling my name?' With that, Ara cut the call and got ready. Within minutes, she was out of the apartment and on her way to their favourite cafe. Once she was outside, she caught sight of Hyun frantically waving at her. She smiled to herself as she headed towards her.

'Annyeong!' Hyun called brightly when she was near. Ara rolled her eyes at Hyun's overly energetic nature. She already knew that all that energy would be diminished by Hyun's next visit to the cafe, which would inevitably be a pity drink.

'I already ordered,' Hyun told Ara. Ara nodded in reply. As they waited, Ara watched the girl. She silently tried prodding at her mind, but Hyun instantly tensed up.

'What the hell. What are you doing?' Hyun growled. Ara instantly regretted her actions, but she didn't admit it. Instead, she glanced away.

'So, I heard you're supervising the hit tonight,' Ara said. Hyun glared at her.

'Yes, I am. You could've asked like a normal person if you wanted to know so bad.' Ara muttered an apology. Within moments, the younger girl softened, unable to keep mad at Ara for too long.

'Anyway,' Hyun said softly, 'you look miserable.' Ara chuckled mirthlessly. 'Do you wanna join tonight?' Ara raised an eyebrow at Hyun's request. She would've said no immediately in any other circumstance, but she needed something to take her mind off the pitiful exams. She considered silently, noting how Hyun watched her much too carefully.

'Come on, I'll just tell the soldiers that you're a new capo-in-training, and none of my capos are stupid enough to tell them otherwise. The soldiers have never seen your face anyway,' Hyun begged.

'Fine,' Ara agreed after a while. The smile that lit up on Hyun's face made it worth it.

'Aigoo~ my baby's so cute,' Ara cooed, squishing Hyun's cheeks. Hyun only pouted at Ara's words but didn't reject her. In the back of her head, Ara wondered how the innocent child in front of her could be someone else entirely given the situation. At that moment, Hyun only seemed like an ordinary college student actively procrastinating from her finals, not a mafia underboss planning her next hit which would involve plenty of bloodshed. Sighing, Ara let go of Hyun's cheeks and sat back down comfortably.

Their drinks didn't take long to arrive. As soon as Hyun had received her's, she subtly sniffed her milkshake before taking the smallest of sips. That was all it took to break the enchanting facade of a normal life that had momentarily manifested in Ara's head. They were anything but ordinary students with ordinary lives. From there, their conversation took a turn into dangerous territory that required them to whisper. By the end of the conversation, quite a number of people were as good as dead.

'You head back to the dorms to study as much as you can before tonight. I'll get to HQ a little early today and figure out the logistics of me joining the hit with Hwa. I'll be seeing you around twelve,' Ara instructed. Hyun nodded, waving her goodbye. Ara waved back and turned to make her way to her headquarters.

The girl used the usual hardware store route to get there. Once she was inside the safety of HQ, she headed straight to the Prep Room. Hwa was already there, getting the designated team for the hit ready. Hwa's eyes momentarily widened at the sight of Ara entering the room unannounced but she quickly composed herself.

'Ah, what are you doing here?' Hwa asked off-handedly.

'baeB sent me to observe the hit as a capo-in-training,' Ara replied, bowing to the soldiers and other caporegimes in the room. They all mumbled their introductions, too focused on their roles to pay attention to her. Ara nodded discreetly at Hwa before strapping on sheaths and filling them up with various weapons from the wall. Once Ara had her twin pistols sitting on her sides, she listened as Hwa delivered a rundown of the mission.

'Listen carefully, everyone,' Hwa ordered, all the attention in the room becoming trained on her. Ara quietly admired the way Hwa managed to command attention so easily. 'Everyone must always remain in contact with me. If at any given moment, the connection is cut, abort mission. We've only managed to figure out around 80% of the schematics of the target building.

'Fortunately, we already have a clear, direct route to and from the area where the girls are kept and a secondary route just in case. But remember, we don't know what surprises are waiting for us, so dessert mission at all costs if you become disconnected with HQ,' Roze explained, handing out their earpieces. She then went over the individual routes and roles.

'Z-' Roze called, almost revealing the mafia boss's identity, 'Zaych, as a capo-in-training, you'll be sticking with the hit supervisor, baeB.' Ara nodded, internally groaning at the annoying name Hwa had come up with. Ara nodded, heading to the hall behind the Prep Room among the rest of the soldiers and capos who were either lounging around or warming up. Trisha, NTMR's main sniper, and one of the capos who knew ZH personally, smirked when Ara approached her.

'So, didn't expect you to be on the mission,' Trisha said nonchalantly, practicing her aim.

'Uni's getting on my nerves,' Ara mumbled in reply. Beside her, RizQueen suddenly materialised.

'So, big boss lady's on the mission?' she asked, her trademark mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes. Ara continued to idly converse with the two until baeB arrived.

The moment Hyun had stepped into the room, a sudden energy took over. The room was ablaze with fiery determination. Without a moment's delay, everyone organised themselves into their squads, ready to take orders.

'Ok girls, this is one of the last few hits before all the labs are destroyed. This one's riskier than the others, so stay alert and always keep in communication with HQ. We're all heading out in five, so be prepared.

'Trisha's squad, you guys take the upper route, keep your distance and alert us on the ground if anything happens. Eliminate any dangers before they can reach us. RizQueen, you and your squad are coming with me on the direct route. Squad three is guarding the outside and waiting along the secondary route in case of an emergency,' baeB ordered. 'Ok, let's go.' Hyun motioned Ara over, nodding subtly and not saying much else.

The drive to the target was short and quiet, everyone reviewing the plan by themselves. Every once in awhile, Ara caught sight of Hoon flying alongside them through the windows. Once they had stepped foot on the land, all of them became eerily quiet, even the loud-mouth of an underboss. With silent motions, baeB had sent all the squads in their separate directions.

baeB made a series of bird-like sounds quietly to Hoon who was perched on her shoulder. Soon enough, the bird took off again, following Trisha's squad. With another nod, they all approached the building, slipping in through an abandoned side door. No doubt, all the security cameras in the vicinity had already been hacked into from back at the base.

'Ok, advance through this door. It'll lead you to a hallway. Take the second left,' Hwa's voice said through Ara's earpiece. The squad looked at each other once before approaching. Ara watched as baeB nudged RizQueen who instantly disappeared into thin air.

They all stuck to the shadows, slinking through until they found the second left. Everything was progressing brilliantly until suddenly, a man in white stepped out of a room. He only had enough time to widen his eyes and open his mouth when one of the soldiers sent a blade flying in his direction. In a matter of seconds, the light left his eyes and his body was slumped against the wall. Without hesitation, the squad kept going.

The slow pace of the hit started to irk Ara. Without warning, she poked baeB, motioning ahead and left without waiting for her reaction. As Ara walked through the lone hallways, she encountered a few more "scientists", but quickly took care of them with a pull of her trigger. Finally, listening to Hwa's directions, she arrived at a large set of double doors. Pushing them open as quietly as she could, her jaw dropped open. Hundreds upon hundreds of beds were lined up against the walls, each with a girl lying in them.

Most of them were asleep, but one who was most likely returning from the bathroom, caught sight of her. Instead of screaming, the girl only wordlessly made her way back to her bed. Before she could, Ara grabbed her arm and pulled her back. The girl didn't resist.

The utter lack of will within the girl stoked an enraged part of Ara. All these girls were broken down until they no longer cared about anything or anyone. They didn't have it in them to care, because if they did, they'd be broken all over again. The hopelessness only reminded Ara of her own lab days. Soon, the rest of the squad had arrived at the hall. They all took a moment to take it all in.

'Ok, now-' Hwa's voice suddenly cut off. Ara immediately turned to look at baeB, but the younger girl's face was a reflection of hers. Everyone around her frantically filed out of the room. Ara tried to call them back, but she had no power over them, not as long as she was "Zaych".

'Tell them to come back. We're almost done, come on. We just need to take them back,' Ara whisper-shouted at baeB. Hyun seemed torn between ordering them back and pulling Ara along with the rest.

'The connection isn't meant to cut. Something's wrong,' baeB said, alert. Even as she talked, a loud screech resonated through the hall. A sudden panic took hold of them all as the underboss shouted one, singular word.

'RUN!' With that, they all turned, some of them even reached the mouth of the secondary exit. baeB, who was at the back along with ZH, grabbed her arm, pulled her through the door, and threw her down. Even though Ara screamed with all her might, desperately trying to grab even a few girls, nothing stopped the explosion that burst through the room. She watched as everything and every person in the room was obliterated into pieces.

From there, she didn't remember much, registering only someone pulling her up and out of the building. Everything around her was chaos and she was stuck in her own bubble of torment. By the time the two squads were out of the building, the rest of it was up in flames.

The van ride to HQ was just a blur, and only once baeB had pulled her out did Ara notice that the girl from the lab was still clinging onto her. A strange spark lit up in her eyes, completely foreign to her sunken face and bony features. Ara didn't want to let go of the girl either, but she couldn't find her voice in time before baeB pulled her away.

Ara followed Hyun into the lowest level of HQ: baeB's personal torture cells.

'We managed to take one of the scientists,' a soldier said, already inside the cell. Next to her, a man in the white lab coat was kneeling. He was bruised and bloody, his clothes singed from the bombing.

'Get out,' baeB growled at the soldier who left in a heartbeat. Cracking her neck, the younger girl's entire body was on fire. The rage that rolled off her was enough to make the man cower. Hyun grabbed the daggers on her belt and held them up against his neck, drawing blood. The maniacal look about her told Ara so much of what Hyun wanted to do, but before she could begin, Ara held a hand out.

Hyun struggled to hold back but stepped back at the boss's order.

'Let me,' Ara whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

She stepped up to the man, holding up his chin.

'Why?' she whispered once. The man, unable to answer only whimpered before the storm hit. Without any warning, Ara ripped through his head with only one question "why?". The screams that came out of his mouth were blood-curdling, but that didn't stop Ara. She didn't care what she found, but she kept pulling away at all his thoughts until he was laying on the floor, his mind too broken to manage his body.

Ara fell to her knees, her own head pounding against her skull and tears streaming down her face. All those girls had spent their whole lives in those wretched labs, getting experimented on ruthlessly and then thrown out when they were of no more use. They didn't deserve any of it, especially not the end they had faced.

A reassuring hand placed itself on Ara's shoulder, calmly guiding her up and out of the cells.

'I'll finish up here. You should go get some rest,' Hyun whispered. Ara nodded, wondering how she would ever be able to rest after losing so many lives right in front of her eyes.

An extra-long chapter!! Hope you guys enjoyed!

And I'll warn everyone right now; if you can't tell already, this story will include many triggering scenes, lots of blood and gore and death. A lot of my characters have gone through several forms of trauma and if anyone is uncomfortable with these themes, I advise you to stop reading.

Other than that, please proceed! :)

Luv y'all

#ateez #mafia #mafia au #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez mafia au #fanfic #fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kpop #atiny #hongjoong fanfic

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harley-sunday · 4 years

Text

The Draw [16]

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 5k

AN: I just can’t seem to quit this story - I keep adding parts... But. BUT. We are closer to end. There’s not much more I can say without giving anything away, except that this chapter seems to consist of mostly phone calls... 🤷🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, please let me know what you think - I’d love to read your thoughts :) ♥

Masterlist

“I don’t know, Brad,” you try your hardest not to sound as frustrated as you feel, “last week you told me that you understood the process, so I don’t really get why we are missing all this inventory right now.” You rub your temples, trying to get rid of the headache that started when you got to the office this morning, quietly cursing the jetlag that has been bothering you ever since you got back from Greece on Saturday, although you know Brad’s fuck-up also has something to do with it. Inventory is not that difficult.

Brad, who’s been interning at the San Francisco office for a grand total of three weeks and yet somehow thinks he’s God’s gift to this company, just shrugs, “I’m sorry?”

You just stare at him and shake your head, “No. Go over it one more time, ok? I’m keeping these here,” you tap the stack of papers on your desk, “so really start at zero again and report back to me tomorrow morning.” You watch him roll his eyes before he nods and turns around to leave. “Brad?” You no longer try to hide the annoyance in your voice, “Close the door on your way out, will you?”

When he does you let out a frustrated groan and lean back in your chair, quietly shaking your head and wondering if you were ever this cocky when you first started working here. Probably not, Deb would have never allowed it. As if on cue your phone rings and when you see who’s calling you answer with a smile, “Hi, Deb.”

“How you holding up, kid?”

“Just told an intern to start over on inventory,” you offer, “so I’m sure he’s telling the other interns what a bitch I am right about now.”

You hear Deb chuckle, “Good for you.” There are some muffled sounds on the other end of the line then and you can just imagine her getting up and walking to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee because the woman seems to run on double espressos and cigarettes. “Listen, I want to run something by you.”

Weird. This is weird. Usually she just informs you after whatever it is she has decided, but her wanting to 'run something by you' tells you she actually wants your opinion. You sit up in your chair, curious to hear what she has to say, “Sure.”

“Technically I’ve found someone to take over the San Francisco office from you,” she says, “and on short notice too, because I know you’ve already been out there longer than you’d like.”

“Ok,” you draw out, not sure where she’s going with this.

You hear her sigh and then she mutters something about biting the bullet before she says, “It’s Mark.”

“Oh.” Your heart drops and your throat goes dry, the lump that suddenly has appeared hard to swallow. There’s a million things running through your head all at the same time, some good, most of them bad, and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. You don’t really know what else to say and so you stay quiet, waiting for Deb to give you something more to go on.

“I know,” her voice is unusually kind, reserved only for the really shitty situations and it tells you she hates this as much as you do. She clears her throat then, “I’ll be honest with you, kid, I contacted him. I know he wasn’t happy when I shipped him off to the London office after you-” she hesitates and clears her throat again, “After what happened. Thing is, he has done some great work there, out of all our overseas offices, this one’s giving us the best turnover.”

You only half-listen to her listing off why this is a good idea, your mind drifting to when you first met Mark. There was talk of a new guy coming in to maybe take over from Deb in a few years, supposedly the best in the business although some called him an asshole who would stop at nothing to get to the top and so by default you had decided you probably wouldn't like him, but then all of a sudden there he was, all six foot two of him, full of ambition and good looks and sweeping you off your feet almost instantly. You told yourself, and him, you didn’t do office romance, that you would never date a colleague, but all it took was one night of overtime and some celebratory drinks after to make you forget your so-called rule.

And the first six months were good, really good. Or at least that’s what you thought. In the end there were warning signs all along, but you just choose to ignore them. And even now you’re not sure what triggered him but something changed after those six months and Mark became manipulative, obsessive, and abusive, and at first you told yourself it was just stress from work, even though deep down you knew better. Still, you always believed you’d be the one to make him change his ways, if only you did what he wanted. Problem was, you were never sure what that was.

He’d want you to wear a tight dress and high heels one day, and the next he would tell you you looked like a whore and what were you thinking leaving the house looking like that? It took you too long to understand you could never make him happy, no matter what you did, and that he would always find things to obsess over. When you finally realized your relationship had turned toxic it still took you another two years to quit him, and that was only after you learned he’d cheated on you with a girl from accounting. When Deb found out what Mark did she immediately took your side and made it look like his sudden move to the London office had been planned all along even though you know she had to pull quite a few strings.

She still doesn’t know about the verbal abuse and the threats and the mind games, you realize then. Maybe if she did she wouldn’t have offered him to come back.

“You still there?” Her voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

She sighs and you can just imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose, “Thing is, with the experience he has, you’d only need a day, two at most, to bring him up to speed.” She hesitates, “If we bring in someone new-”

“It’ll take at least four weeks,” you offer with a nod even though she can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you echo. You roll your lip between your teeth, trying to decide whether or not you should tell her the full story. Would it matter? And if it did, would it mean you’d be stuck out here longer?

“Listen, take the day to think about it,” she offers then, “get back to me tomorrow and let me know, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Alright.”

Before you get a chance to say goodbye she has disconnected the call and so you’re left with your own thoughts. Tapping your phone against your chin you’re trying to decide what to do, but it seems like too big of a decision to make on your own. You pull up your texting app and send Lauren a quick message:

You free tonight?

Her reply comes not much later and surprises you:

Sorry, can’t tonight. Going on a date :)

You type a reply almost immediately:

?? Why didn’t you tell me? But also, YASSS! Go get it, girl! Call me tomorrow?

You lean back in your chair while you wait for her reply, a little upset that she didn’t tell you, and you can’t help but wonder why.

Her reply doesn’t really make you feel any better:

You were busy, babe. Talk to you tomorrow.

You kick off your shoes the moment you step into the apartment you refuse to call home, and head straight to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine, before you open the takeout container and put some of the fried rice and egg rolls you got from your favourite restaurant on a plate. It’s still nice outside and so you end up on the tiny balcony, now bare feet propped up on the railing as you eat your dinner.

The thought of having to work with Mark again, if only for a short while, takes up most of your headspace and you hate how indecisive you are about it. Part of you wants nothing to do with him ever again, but part of you knows he really is the best man for the job. Say what you will about the asshole, but he knows how to run a company. Having Mark at the San Francisco office would probably mean neither you nor Deb would have to step in ever again and, you reason, he could probably manage Seattle and Phoenix from here too.

You really just want to talk to somebody about this, because putting your thoughts into words has always helped you, and so you call your brother.

The call goes straight to voicemail although a message follows soon after:

At Jake's science fair, or did you forget that was today?

You let out a frustrated groan, because yes, you totally forgot.

It does nothing to help your mood and you're starting to feel so bad about missing out on so much that's happening in Charlotte right now, what with Jake’s science fair and Lauren apparently dating someone, that it's actually making you homesick. You decide to pour yourself another glass of wine, because fuck it.

When you close the fridge your eyes fall on a picture of you and Sebastian you've put up there and you figure maybe you should just call him. A quick glance at the clock, however, tells you it's early morning in Greece and so you forego that idea because you don't really want to wake him up with the news your ex is about to make a comeback into your life.

You are having a very ‘Woo is me’ moment and hate how alone you feel right now. You know the wine is not helping and so you dump what’s left in the glass in the kitchen sink and put the kettle on for a cup of tea instead. While the water boiling you set out to find a notebook, hoping that putting your thoughts on paper will help you figure out what it is you can do about this situation and maybe make some decisions.

You call Deb the moment you’re at your desk and she answers on the first ring.

“Tell me,”

Never one to beat around the bush, you think, although in this case you appreciate it. “Have Mark take over San Francisco,” you tell her, “but I need him to do his homework in advance because two days is my absolute max.”

“Noted,” Deb agrees easily, “but?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, “I want to be able to divide my time between Charlotte and New York as I see fit, with Charlotte as my home base, at least for now. If I ever decide to move to New York I want it to be an option to turn that arrangement around-”

“Give me two weeks once Mark has settled in-”

“-and I’d like to take four weeks of unpaid leave in August,” you add quickly, before you lose momentum.

She sucks in her breath, “I don’t know if I can do that, kid.”

“It’s only four weeks, Deb,” you counter, “and it’s unpaid. I still have enough days left to make it a paid vacation if that’s what you prefer.” You close your eyes and scrunch up your nose, anxious about her reply, because you’ve never really talked back to her like this before.

Turns out there was nothing to worry about when she tells you, “Look who finally put on her big-girl panties, standing up to her boss.” She lets out a laugh, “I’m proud of ya, kid.”

“Will you let me know when to expect Mark? I’ll make sure everything’s ready by then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s just,” Lauren hesitates, and you want to tell her it’s ok, that you know you haven’t been there for her as much as you should have, but she continues then, “it’s weird not having you around, not knowing what you’re up to. Not knowing if, when I call you, I’m bothering you.”

“Hey,” you counter quickly, “you are one of the few people who never have to worry about that and I’m a little shocked you would even think that. You can call me day or night, Laur, always.”

“I know.” She sighs then, “It’s just- I feel like- I don’t know, ok? It’s just different with you being so far away for so long. I miss you.”

“I know,” you try to smile even though she can’t see you, “I’m sorry for not being the best bestest friend these past few weeks. I miss you too, babe.” You get up from the couch and make your way onto the balcony where you lean against the railing, “Let’s just hope Mark can make it out of London soon so I can get back to Charlotte and get back to annoying you twenty-four seven.”

She laughs, “You’re going to have to share me now, though.”

You’re relieved she seems to have accepted your apology and so you decide to tease her a little more, “You do realize the first thing I’m doing when I get back is give Matt the same stern talking-to as you did Sebastian?”

“Oh shit,” she whispers. A little louder then, “Please don’t, I really like him.”

“Well you better tell him then that your best friend is not above kicking his ass if he ever hurts you.”

“Will do.” She clears her throat then, “So, are you going to tell Sebastian about Mark?”

“That was the most abrupt change of subject ever,” you scoff with a grin, “what the hell, Laur?”

“I just think you should tell him.”

“I know,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I will. I just want to wait until I know when Mark gets here, you know?”

“Yeah.” She lets out a yawn and laughs, “Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” you smile, “I get the hint.”

She laughs, “I’m sorry, babe, it’s been a long day. Listen,” another yawn, although you’re sure this one was on purpose, “let me know once you know more about Mark and when you’re getting back, ok?”

“Yup, will do.” You have to stifle your own yawn then, “Talk to you soon, babe.”

“Love you.”

It isn’t until Friday afternoon that there’s an email from Deb, informing you Mark will take a flight from London next Wednesday so that you have all of Thursday and Friday to get him settled in. She’s included a list of subjects he wants to discuss but you decide that’s for later, before you close all active connections and shut your laptop off. You grab your phone off your desk and send a quick message to Lauren:

Coming home next weekend :)

Her reply comes when you’re at the elevator bay:

Yay! Let me know how when you land and I’ll pick you up! Xx

Your next message is to Sebastian:

Missing you something fierce, Stan! Call me when you can? X

The sound of your phone wakes you from a deep sleep early on Sunday morning, but you can’t help but smile when you see ‘Mr Smooth’ flashing on your screen and so you answer with a quiet, “Hey you.”

“God, it’s good to hear your voice again,” he whispers. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,”

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I have some news though.” There’s a knot starting to form in your stomach and so you figured it’s better to bite the bullet right away.

“Tell me,”

“Promise you’ll let me finish before you say anything?”

“That bad?”

“Not really- I don’t know,” you push the covers off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You take a deep breath before you continue, “Remember when I told you about my ex, Mark?”

“Hmm,” he replies, and you take that as your cue to continue.

“What I didn’t tell you then- And maybe I should have- We used to work together in Charlotte.” You clear your throat, “And when we broke up Deb moved him to the London office, but now she wants him to take over San Francisco from me.” You wait for a reply from him, but then remember you told him to wait and so you continue, “He starts on Thursday and we’ve scheduled two days for me to bring him up to speed, so I’m going to have to spend some time together with him and I don’t know, I just thought you should know.” You push yourself off the bed and make your way to the kitchen, “The good news though, is that I got Deb to agree to let me divide my time between Charlotte and New York from now on, and that I have four weeks off in August.”

He stays quiet for a little too long and so you’re preparing for the worst when he finally replies. But then he just says, “How do you feel about seeing him again?” and you feel a wave of relief washing over you.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I mean, I know he’s right for the job and it’s always easier to bring in someone who has experience and knows the company, but I- There’s a lot of history there and I just hope he realizes I’m not the same person anymore.” You lean against the counter and let out a sigh, “I guess I just want to get this over with and go back to Charlotte.”

“So nothing for me to worry about?” His voice is soft.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him.

“Good.”

Mark is, well, he’s still an asshole, you realize when he walks into your office and tries to greet you with a hug. You offer him a hand and a curt, “Hello,” and have to hide your smile when you see the disappointment in his eyes. You’ve been feeling nervous all morning, hell, all week, because somehow you knew he would try to act like nothing ever happened.

“So this is how it’s going to be, huh?” He says while he puts his briefcase down on one of the visitors’ chairs on the other side of your desk.

“Yes, Mark,” you nod and sit down in your own chair, “this is exactly how it’s going to be.” You watch as he unbuttons the jacket of his three piece suit before he sits down and leans back in his chair and you hand him a folder, “Read this first, it’s an overview of the last five years and should give you a fairly good impression of how things are run here.”

He thumbs through the papers, seemingly resigned to the fact that it’s solely a business relationship between you two from now on, and you see his eyebrows go up when he comes to the financial statements, “How on earth-”

“I know,” you hand him another folder, “this is Paul Kroeger’s file. Or at least everything that I’ve managed to uncover in the few weeks I’ve been here. I really urge you to keep digging, because I’m sure more shit will come up.”

“Why didn’t Deb step in sooner?”

“You’ll have to ask Deb that,” you offer with a shrug. Another folder then, “This is everything you need to know about the rest of the staff here. I don’t think anyone else was in on it, but again, you might want to keep digging.”

He nods, “Ok.” Taking all three folders, he puts them in his briefcase before he looks back at you, squinting a little as if he’s trying to read you. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips when he says, “You’ve changed.”

And you haven’t, you want to bite back, but don’t because you want to at least try to keep things civil. Instead you simply agree, “I have.” You try to steer the conversation back to work, “We have a meeting with Finance in ten minutes, then lunch with the board, and a meeting with Sales in the afternoon. After that I figured we could take a quick tour of the building, so you can meet everyone, and then I’ll send out the official message to all of our partners.”

He just nods.

“I’ll make sure to have this office empty by the end of the day so you can get settled in,” you continue, “and then I’ll be available all day tomorrow should you have any further questions.”

“You forgot one thing,”

You don’t say anything and just look at him with a raised eyebrow.

A cocky smile flashes across his face when he says, “You forgot to mention we’ll be having dinner tonight so we-”

“We’re not having dinner tonight, Mark,” you say, effectively cutting him off. It makes you feel good to tell him no and so you have to try your hardest to hide your smile when you see his face drop.

“You really have changed,” he says again, but this time there’s a hint of dismay in his voice.

You smile widely now, because fuck him, “Yes. I really have.”

Blame it on the red-eye flight and thus having to get up extremely early this morning, or simply on the fact that it’s been five weeks since you last saw her, but you find yourself actually tearing up when you walk out of exit E and see Lauren waiting there for you.

She holds out her arms as you walk up to her and then envelopes you in a tight hug, “Don’t cry, silly.”

“I just really missed you,” you sniffle while you wrap your arms around her. “And it’s that time of the month, so you know,” you chuckle through your tears, “double the fun.” When you pull back you see her eyes are glossed over as well and so you just stick out your tongue at her, “Let’s go home.”

“Alright,” she says once you’re in her car, “start talking, babe. I want to know everything that’s happened since I last saw you.”

You’ve just finished telling her about your parents’ visit to San Francisco and your trip to Greece when she pulls up on your driveway and so all of a sudden you’re home again after almost two months. The garden looks absolutely immaculate and you know you have your parents to thank for that, reminding yourself to call them later today. Grabbing your suitcases out the trunk you let Lauren take one from your as you follow her to your house.

She turns around rather dramatically when you get to the front door, “Ok. So. Please don’t be mad, but-” she pulls a face, “-that plant in your dining room?”

“Felicity?”

“Sure, yeah,” she scoffs, “name your plants. What’s next? Naming your electrical appliances?”

“You’re just stalling because Felicity the Fiddle Leaf Fig is obviously no longer with us and you’re just too afraid to admit you killed her,” you counter, trying to keep a straight face.

“I didn’t-” Lauren hesitates then and seems to realize you’re just messing with her, “but yes. Felicity has gone to plant heaven. It was all very sad. I buried her in the backyard if you want to pay your respects.”

You let out a laugh, “I’d rather you just open the front door for me so we can have a drink and gossip about Mark.”

“You really said that?”

“I really did,” you admit with a smile, thinking back to when you told Mark to have a nice life when you left the office Friday afternoon. You grab the bottle of wine from off the floor next to you and top of her glass before you fill yours, “I don’t know. In a way those two days gave me some sort of closure, I guess.”

“Hmm,” she agrees, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s next?”

“Well first you’re going to introduce me to Matt sometime this week-”

“Babe.”

“Babe,” you echo. “You’ve been dating for almost a month, do I need to remind you that you met Sebastian before we even were officially dating?”

“Yeah, ok,” she agrees, “I guess you could both come over for dinner next weekend.” She sits up a little, “So you’re going to be here for a while, right?”

You nod, “Sort of. I go back to work on Monday and then Sebastian’s scheduled to fly back on the third and that’s the same weekend I start my four-week leave-”

“That’s only two more weeks.”

“It is,” you smile. “I don’t know if he wants to celebrate his birthday here or if he wants to go to New York, and I think he said something about maybe taking a short holiday somewhere, but his next project starts in September so I’ll come back to Charlotte then and probably stay here while he’s away.”

“Ugh,” Lauren rolls her eyes and shakes her head but smiles, “to be the girlfriend of an international superstar.”

“Tante!” Jake exclaims when he opens the front door. He all but jumps in your arms to give you a hug.

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” you tease, resisting the hug, “who are you and what did you do with my nephew?” You laugh when he pulls a face, “You are getting too big, kiddo, slow it down a little, will you?”

Jake giggles and hugs you even tighter.

“Ah, there she is,” Nathan says from the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, “my long-lost sister. So glad you're finally gracing us with your presence after coming back home a week ago.”

“So dramatic,” you counter with a grin, although he has a point. You should have gone to see them sooner, but as always work got in the way, what with Deb doubling your workload before you take your leave in another two weeks. Jake jumps out of your arms then and so you get to hug your brother for the first time in what feels like forever, ‘“ Hi, Nate.”

“Hi, loser,” he says from somewhere over your shoulder, but the way he holds you tight tells you he’s missed you too.

“How you holding up?”

“Good,” he pulls back and smiles, “still some headaches every now and then, but not as much as two months ago-”

“That’s good,” you agree. You follow them through the house and out into the backyard, where Jake excitedly shows you the inflatable swimming pool he and Nathan put up yesterday. Sitting down on one of the chairs you watch him as he takes off his shirt and jumps in without hesitation.

Nathan re-emerges from the kitchen with some iced tea and hands you a glass before he sits down somewhere next to you. He flicks your upper arm, “You good?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“Truth?”

“Truth,” you reply with a nod. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “a lot has happened in a short time, I guess.”

This is new, you think, this out-in-the-open caring side of your brother. You decide you like it and so you try not to make a smart remark but instead reassure him, “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Nate, what are you getting at?” You’re confused now, because why is he pressing this?

He hangs his head and lets out a sigh, “I guess you haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

“I’m not-” you watch him as he gets his phone and pulls up something that has his jaw set in a way that tells you whatever it is, it’s not good. He hands you his phone then and you let out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the pictures.

“I figured that’s why you were here,” he says with a nod towards his phone.

"When?"

"Saw them this morning," he offers.

You scroll further down and feel your throat go dry when you see picture after picture of Sebastian and some girl, her hand on his arm as she seems to whisper something in his ear. He’s laughing in some of the pictures and if you didn’t know any better you’d think they were on a date.

“Is that his co-star?” Nate asks quietly, knowing that if it is the pictures could have been taken on set and it wouldn’t be as bad.

Not trusting your voice right now you just shake your head because no. No, it isn’t.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, babe,” Lauren tries again, but she sounds a little less confident now that she’s seen the pictures and read the accompanying article about Sebastian’s new mystery woman where they claim she’s a Greek local he fell for while filming ‘Monday’.

You drove straight to her house when you left Nathan’s in a hurry, but only after you promised him you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and now you’re on her balcony, trying to make sense of all of this over some hard liquor because you both deemed wine wasn’t going to cut it.

She says something else then, but you’re not really listening and so you just continue to stare into the distance. She nudges you with her foot, “Call him.”

You shake your head, “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

You look at her with tears in your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “What if it’s true?”

#The Draw #Sebastian Stan x reader #Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan Imagine #Sebastian Stan fanfic

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years

Text

just a job

summary: working wardrobe for the new film ‘bohemian rhapsody’ is not all its cracked up to be. until it is.

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: language, ~suggestive~ themes (but who am i kidding? we’re all here for that)

a/n: i’m continuing to work on the next chapter for “even now” but this has been in my drafts for awhile, so i thought i would finish it. enjoy, loves! xoxo.

you hate your job. really, you do. despite what your younger sister believes, it’s not glamorous and it’s not well-paid. it’s simply a 9-5, clock-in & clock-out, leave-work-at-work gig to hold you over until your final semester at university ends.

at twenty-seven, you could have two degrees by now. instead you have zero—and a startlingly amount of student debt amassed thanks to your two attempts at completing a single degree. it’s been complicated, to say the very least, and you don’t like to dwell on past failures.

you consider your job a necessary evil. there’s no one to pay tuition bills except you, so when your cousin landed a position in makeup for a new film and mentioned the need for a wardrobe assistant, you applied. the work is simple, mindless even. you take measurements, offer your opinion when asked, and catalog the different costumes. you’re truly a glorified hunter-gatherer: you hunt through the rows and rows of possible options and bring back what’s needed.

still, it’s a job, and it pays the bills. for the most part, you stomach it. there’s loads of downtime, giving you ample opportunity to study or write a term paper. your co-workers are nice enough. they live completely different lives, surrounded by the latest fashion magazines and sketchbooks full of costume ideas. your workspace—a child-sized deck in the corner of the trailer—is covered in maths books. your future in mathematics lends itself to things like tailoring and fabric measurements, but it’s not the same. there’s an obvious disconnect; you try your best to smile and fit in, anyway.

your cousin, morgan, finds you on a lonely tuesday afternoon. it’s drizzling outside, so her hair is puffy when she enters the trailer.

“this damn weather,” she mutters. though she’s your first cousin on your mother’s side, she grew up in australia, and her accent, thick as it is, never fails to make you smile. “i swear, if gwil comes back and his wig is all frizzed out, i’m gonna pop a lid or something.”

“that bad outside?”

“humid as hell and still raining.” she sets her paper coffee cup, stained with purple lipstick around the edge, on the counter. “how’s the paper comin’?”

you glance at your work, at the empty word document on your laptop screen, and shake your head. “it’s not. i tried to start but i just...” your words drift away, incomplete but crystal clear at the same time.

“hey.” morgan crosses the narrow trailer to squeeze your shoulder. “stop doubting yourself.”

peering up through your lashes, you shrug. “i don’t know if i have what it takes to a researcher, that’s all.”

morgan scoffs. “that’s horse-shit and you know it! think about it: you like maths, for some strange reason, and you like medicine, and you want to marry those two and become the best biomedical blah-blah researcher the world has ever seen. and be smoking hot at the same time. don’t give up on yourself now, [y/n]. not when you’re so close.”

you rise from your chair and lift your arms over your head to stretch. you know she means well—hell, you’ve been through this all once before—but your fears persist. with a good-natured roll of your eyes, you close your laptop. “you’re supposed to say that. you’re family.”

“maybe, but it’s the truth.”

the trailer door bursts open, and you glance at the faded clock on the wall. post-lunch break. time for a scene change and costume switch.

your boss, richard, climbs the trailer steps, his glasses fogged over by the weather. he tosses a plastic-wrapped lunch plate on your desk before feathering your cheek with a kiss. his beard scratches your face, but you return the air-kiss, still feeling slightly ridiculous any time you imitate his standard greeting.

“sorry, lovie. you’ll have to eat later. the boys are on their way and we only have them for a few before the cameras start rolling again.” richard sheds his leather jacket and runs a hand through his rain-slick hair. “morgan, you’re taking up too much space. shoo, honey, shoo!”

“right, of course! i’ve got to go wrangle gwilym’s wig anyway.” before exiting the trailer, morgan lifts her brows in your direction. “remember what i said, okay? it really is the truth.”

shuffling to the door, richard waves his hands in a shooing motion. “yeah, yeah, we get it. you’re family and you love each other. scram—and i mean that in the nicest way possible.” once morgan disappears, he points to the back of the trailer. “i need you to find those god-awful corduroy pants. joe has to wear them today and last time i checked there was a tear up the inseam.”

you do as your told, squishing your way to the storage area. four clothes racks—one for each of the boys—take up the majority of the trailer space. aside from a bathroom the size of a postage stamp and an area for fittings, it’s a tight squeeze. that squeeze is made even tighter anytime one or more of the borhap boys makes their entrance. their personalities are distinct and their friendships are loud; it should be endearing, but it often leaves a headache grating at the back of your skull from all the noise.

from your place jammed between joe and ben’s clothing racks, you can hear him—joe—as he makes his way to the fitting stool.

“okay, but listen to this, richard.” his voice is muffled by the mink coat your head is pressed against, but you already know the routine. he’ll start with some ridiculous anecdote then work his way to a joke or two, peppering in a smattering of questions for good measure. it’s the same nearly every day.

joe is kind. they all are. but joe, specifically, is the most gregarious of the bunch—a bit much for your quiet tendencies. he makes you laugh on occasion, but the majority of the time, his personality is too big for the sandwich-sized trailer. you’d never tell him that, of course, so you often spend most of his fittings with a haphazard smile on your face, your mind millions of miles away.

corduroy pants retrieved, you wiggle your way to the fitting area. richard has his hands full with rami, attempting to peel a black-and-white checkered unitard off the poor man, so he gestures to joe with his foot.

“fix that inseam,” he says, his voice strained with effort.

joe has a wry smile on his face when you look at him. “look, [y/n], i normally don’t take my pants off on the first date, but i’ll make an exception for you.”

you toss the pants at his chest. an girlish blush crawls up the back of your neck, so you turn away, rooting around on your desk for your sewing kit. to further enflame your face, you cringe when you hear his jeans unzip and drop to the floor with a soft whoosh. your fingers stutter over the assortment of books, papers, and fabric materials on the table.

what has you so nervous, you aren’t sure. joe is handsome. again, they all are. you suppose it’s the idea of having your face inches from his crotch as soon as he’s clothed. not for the first time, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. a biomedical researcher would never have to deal with this.

“m’lady, i am ready.”

the plastic surrounding the sewing kit bites your palm as you hold it tight, turning to face him. “don’t be so smug. it’s not cute.”

joe frowns. he looks slightly ridiculous, like a small child, in his wig: the straight bangs, the uneven locks of hair brushing the collar of his shirt. he looks like john deacon; at least, you assume he does. you’re no expert. still, his frown coupled with the wig and the striped shirt and corduroy reminds you more of a primary school boy than rock god oozing sex appeal. it’s discombobulating.

“you’re a hard nut to crack, [y/n].”

lowering to your knees, you nudge his legs apart with your knuckles. already, you feel a lump rise in your throat. “yeah?”

“i’m in here every day and i don’t think i’ve made you laugh once.”

“that’s not true.” you search the recesses of your mind for a memory, but can only think about how, if you move an inch to your left, your forehead will brush the fold of his pants near his most delicate parts.

(god, you need to get laid. between a flurry of dead-end jobs and university courses, you can’t remember the last time you had a good romp in the hay just to blow off some steam.)

joe doesn’t seem at all bothered by your proximity. that is, until you run the flat of your hand down the inseam of his leg. you swear you hear him hiss, but maybe it’s just your imagination. regardless, he jumps a little, and you look up with a wince.

“sorry, cold hands. i’m just looking for the tear.”

he nods, a definite flush to his cheeks.

the tear—a whopping four inches from top to bottom—is nestled near the back of joe’s left thigh. you might be able to get away with a bit of fashion tape, but richard has an eye for detail. he claims the camera can pick out every loose thread, every minor snag.

drawing back, you pop open the sewing kit with a click. “you’ve made me laugh before,” you say. it’s a lame attempt to break the silence, but you’ve never claimed to be the best conversationalist.

“huh? oh.” he hesitates. his eyes narrow, but there’s a playful glint to his gaze. “you’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“no, it’s the truth. there was that time with the... dinosaur story. and the other time with the baseball thing and your brother.”

he runs his pointer finger over the fingers on his opposite hand, eyes rolled toward the ceiling as he counts under his breath. “so, twice?”

you nod. “at least.” with a flourish of your needle and thread, you warn, “cold hands coming in again.”

he shifts to stand a little wider. his arms cross over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. “twice is good. i can live with twice. my normal goal is twenty times at minimum, but i can adjust.”

you fall silent. once you’ve located the rip, you give it a good tug, testing to see whether it will tear more before you’ve finished the job. it holds, thank goodness, so you place the needle at the base of the rip and start threading it back and forth.

you don’t turn when richard announces, "be back, [y/n]. rami’s stuck. we need baby oil from makeup.”

at this, joe laughs. his hand slaps his opposite leg, his body heaving as he all but cackles. you jostle with the force of his amusement, and the needle stabs the exposed flesh his thigh. this time he does hiss, pulling back on instinct.

you grimace. “sorry! you moved!”

“that’s your excuse? you sure you didn’t plan to stab me?”

“why would i do that?”

“‘cause you think i’m annoying!”

“i don’t think you’re annoying—not all the time, anyway.”

“aha! so you do think i’m annoying!”

you huff. “joe, please. i’m just trying to do my job.”

perhaps it’s the weariness in your tone that drains the good-natured grin from his face. maybe it’s your confession, which you hadn’t meant to confess. whatever it is, he clears his throat and looks toward the mirrors on the wall across from him, arms snug over his chest again. you return to the tear.

the silence stretches thin with tension. you’ve wounded his pride, you know, but you aren’t sure why it’s shut him down. you’ve interacted only a handful of times, and you try to keep professional, distanced, any time you do interact with a cast member. his suddenly-cold exterior is peculiar.

“can you turn around for me?” he does so without complaint. his ass looks good in the pants, you’ll give him that, and this vantage point gives better access to the top of the tear. a win-win, you suppose.

“what did you mean by twenty times?” you ask. “your normal goal being twenty times?” another lame attempt at breaking the tension.

he shrugs. “it’s stupid.”

tear repaired, you stand. “no, i want to hear. please?”

gently, you tug his arm so he faces you again. you glance over his new outfit, searching for minuscule imperfections. you can feel his eyes search your face in a similar manor, and your face grows warm under the scrutiny.

in lieu of an proper response, he kisses you.

the sudden contact causes you to drop your sewing kit to the floor. the plastic breaks—you can hear the crunch—but you don’t care. it’s been a long time since anyone kissed you and a longer time since anyone kissed you properly. his lips are soft and skilled, slow against your own. you rest your hands on his forearms, let him kiss you until he pulls back.

your skin feels like it’s on fire, and your chest is tight with anxiety. you swallow hard, eyes darting back and forth between his.

“i don’t like it when girls i like think i’m annoying.” his voice is thick, but his words remind you of a schoolboy’s again. it’s endearing; you smile.

“i’m quiet, that’s all.”

“i’m not.”

“i know.”

“usually i can tell if a girl is interested by how many times she laughs when i talk. twenty times and over, i’ve got a solid in. you’ve never given me an in.”

“i suppose twice is a little below the mark.”

he leans forward, as if to kiss you again, and your eyes flutter shut, but his nose merely brushes yours. “go out with me... to dinner. let me make you laugh again.”

you know you should say no. if not for the sake of professionalism, for the simple sake of proving your sister wrong. she’d told you at the start that you would meet someone and it would be dreamy and romantic and totally Hollywood. you’d promised her you wouldn’t.

but joe is cute. and even though he’s loud and chaotic, there’s something about him. he’s like a magnet. despite when your head aches because he and ben are singing too loud, you’re drawn to him. there’s no use denying it.

“one date,” you whisper, holding up your finger. “i’ll give you one date to let you try.”

“how do i know if there will be a second?”

you have to laugh at his boldness. his grin widens at the sound.

stepping back, his hands dropping from your hips, he shows three fingers. “that’s three times. i think that automatically qualifies me for a second date.”

“we haven’t even gone on our first!”

“doesn’t matter.” he hops down from the dressing stool and presses a loud kiss to your cheek. “pencil it in. two dates, back to back.”

“joe—”

he pauses at the trailer door. his toothy smile flips your stomach. “i’m being annoying, i know.”

before you can laugh again, you bite your lip. “get out of here, you idiot.”

he purses his lips in an air-kiss before bouncing out the door.

you grab the broken sewing kit from the floor. straightening, glance at yourself in the mirror.

your cheeks are flushed and your lips look freshly kissed, but you’re smiling. maybe not laughing, but smiling. joe’s the first guy who’s made you smile in awhile. he’s made the stress in your chest relax, and the constant worry at the back of your head slow.

that ought to count for something. maybe even a third date.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #j writes

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pigtownchronicles · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2.1 - Back to Reality

Dennis and Barry didn’t speak much for the rest of the weekend, after their night out at Depot. It was clear that something between them was withering in a way that was rather unexpected, but neither of them could articulate. Barry, however, was closer to understanding it. It was the same sensation that he always felt after a circuit party, or an orgy, when he was back in the quiet house again. He was back in reality. The party, the club, the sex, all of that was just fantasy, it couldn’t penetrate him. He couldn’t allow it to penetrate him. But when he saw someone like Samuel, or Parker, who not only allowed that energy to flow through them, but lived and breathed it, all he felt was restless. Like he’d done scuba diving, with all of this protection, only to discover other guys he knew had gills. That Dennis had intruded on that rather sacred experience, injected his own kind of order and justice and control into it only made him feel more sour, more disconnected, more jealous of what he could be, if he hadn’t chosen all of this.

Dennis, on the other hand, was feeling usurped. Annoyed that Barry had dragged him to that party, annoyed that he had challenged him when it came to Kyle and threatening to tell his father, annoyed that he felt bad about it, most of all. He’d done the right thing, he was sure of that. Kyle shouldn’t have been there, he was too young. It was illegal. Pretty much everything that was happening in that club was illegal, in fact. But Barry had put him on the defensive, a position Dennis hated, since he was very careful to always maintain a moral high ground. He felt like he needed to defend something that ought to be obvious. The fact that Barry apparently disagreed only made his own values feel more slippery.

Barry dealt with the frustration by going to the gym, and stopping off at a gay sauna on the way back for a little action. Dennis dealt with it by making calls to the health department, the liquor control board, and the police department, reporting the myriad of violations he had witnessed at Depot on Friday. Neither of them felt satisfied, by the end of it. The energy that Barry was craving just wasn’t there, like it had been at Depot. The guys were all too nervous, too embarrassed, mostly older closeted men with wives in the suburbs. It only made Barry feel more hemmed in than before. Dennis kept getting the runaround from every agency he called. They would seem interested, and then as soon as he mentioned where he had been and they confirmed the address, the person on the other line would go quiet, say that wasn’t their jurisdiction, thank him for his vigilance and hang up on him. Only once, with a police officer, did he manage to get a little bit of info out of him. “Look, the folks you ought to talk to are down at Precinct 27. They handle everything in that neighborhood.” Frustrated, and again feeling like he was running into some bureaucratic red tape he hadn’t expected, he decided he’d pay a visit to the precinct sometime in the next week, and get some answers there. Surely they would have a more difficult time dismissing his complaints in person.

Monday came for them both. Dennis headed for the hospital--Monday was usually a day for appointments, and getting his surgeries for the rest of the week planned out and organized. Barry headed into the office, dreading it more than he had in some time. He’d hoped that seeing Samuel and having a chance to blow off some steam would have helped soften the blow of being passed over for a promotion, again. Instead, he just felt caught between two worlds, one unsatisfactory foot in each. He couldn’t invest himself entirely in his job--it bored him to death, and he didn’t understand how Dennis could stand being so normal all the time--but if he didn’t, he’d never get the respect there he longed for. Each time he saw Samuel though, it was like looking at some amazing being. He was so free. Sure, his life likely wasn’t easy, but it seemed effortless and fun and exhilarating in a way Barry’s had never been. It also terrified him, all the same, and he hadn’t even been able to hack an hour on the dance floor on Friday. He got settled in his office, and got caught up on his email for the first couple of hours, before the usual Monday morning meeting was due to start.

This is what he was dreading the most, of the entire day. He showed up a bit late, took a seat towards the far end of the table. Evan Ternbull, his current boss, was sitting at the front, and off to his left was Richard Carlisle, the man that Barry privately considered his rival, but they had never spoken more than a few words to each other, since Richard was a relatively new hire, and they’d been working on different projects.

“As you know,” Evan said once getting everyone in order, “I’m going to be transferring over to a new project team in a month or so, which I know all of you are so disappointed to hear about. I’m happy to announce today that Richard here will be stepping up into my role and overseeing your team for the remainder of your project. As you know, Richard is relatively new here, but he comes with some great outside experience, and I am very confident that he will be a great project lead.”

The folks around the table clapped for Richard, who stood up, looking a bit sheepish. How old could he be, really? Twenty-five, twenty-six? Slender, twinkish but clearly straight, Richard got up and introduced himself, talking about his wife, and about the baby they had on the way. The table clapped again, and Barry tried to mask his scowl as he clapped along. Part of him felt a bit bad now for feeling so entitled to the position. Dennis and he were doing just fine with their incomes, and he knew that kids were expensive--one of many reasons he’d never wanted one. But as soon as that sympathy popped up, he pushed it back down. Just because he was straight, just because he was “starting a family” didn’t mean he was entitled to more money than him. It didn’t mean he was entitled more respect.

That was it, wasn’t it? The respect. He didn’t feel respected here. He didn’t feel respected at home, even. Dennis loved him, sure, but did he respect him, really? Did it feel like a relationship between equals all the time? It didn’t. Barry would goad him, and half the time Dennis would just dismiss him out of hand, refuse to even engage, like fighting with Barry was simply beneath him. Like he knew that no matter how dissatisfied he might be, he’d never leave him, because he liked the money, and the lifestyle, and Barry’s own job here couldn’t afford it.

He could barely focus for the rest of the meeting. After an hour, he faked a phone call, and retreated to his cubicle to think. Mostly, he stared at the little business card that Hugh had given him, and thought about what on earth “Broker” might mean. Someone in the drug trade, apparently, if Hugh worked for him. So much of that conversation had been...weirdly cryptic, but Hugh had been right about the central proposition. Barry was unsatisfied with his life, and more hemmed in he felt--by Evan, by Dennis, by Richard now--

“Hey, Billy, right?”

He was startled up from his thought, looked up and saw Richard looming in the doorway of his cubicle. The meeting was over apparently--was this the first thing he’d thought to do? Hunt Barry down?

“Barry, actually.”

“Oh shoot, sorry man. Everything alright? You zipped out of there in a hurry.”

“Yeah, just the husband, you know. Everything sounds like an emergency to him.”

Richard laughed, “Yeah man, I get it. Hey, Evan told me that you were on the shortlist for the position, and I just wanted to let you know that he thought you would have been a great choice too, and he wants you to keep throwing your hat in the ring, alright? He just didn’t think that this position would be a better stepping stone for me, since we’re at the tail end of a project, about to ship. He knows that wouldn’t have been a challenge for you.”

Barry’s face was growing a bit heated. Evan thought so, huh? Then why wasn’t Evan here telling him this? Why send this cherub faced little shit to come apologize on his behalf? “Sure thing, I understand. Besides, you got the growing family to feed, right?” Barry said, stretching his mouth into something he hoped was a smile and not a sneer, and from the way Richard’s face lit up back, he must have managed well enough. They chatted a bit about Barry’s current duties, and then Richard moved on to the next member of the team.

That settled it, then. If nothing else, he would have his curiosity satisfied. If it was a service that could make his life better, than great. Why care that the info came from a drug dealer? He pulled out the card Hugh had given him on Friday--it was rather simple. All it had was a name, Ian Miller, the word “Broker” below it, and on the bottom of the card, a phone number. He picked up his phone, and gave the mysterious number a call.

***

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kelelamentia · 5 years

Text

Plant Charming

Because I want to add to Marinette’s growing list of admirers.

@ozmav

On a street in Paris:

A male figure stood.

“She’s here, I hope I don’t scare her.” He walked toward a very specific bakery.

On Marinette’s balcony:

Marinette was tending to her garden; watering and weeding, and just enjoying here flowers. This was something Lila and her class couldn’t take from her; just like designing, it gave her some peace of mind. Tikki was flying around the flowers like she was dancing, when she stopped.

“Marinette I’m going inside to eat some cookies, would you to come?” Tikki asked.

“No thanks Tikki, I want to stay out here a bit longer.”

“Okay Marinette have fun.” With that Tikki disappeared down the hatch.

Marinette was left alone with her garden. As she went about her business Marinette was singing a soft tune, never noticing a large vine growing until a voice came.

“My, what a lovely voice.” Marinette turned around, almost throwing her watering can, and saw a boy about her age standing on a large vine. “Hello, are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

He had long red hair that just reached past his shoulders in a pony tail, green eyes and pale skin. He wore a white buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, a pair of nice light blue jeans, and some brown loafers.

“Y-Yes, I am, who are you?” Was he an Akuma, Marinette wondered?

“I am Emmanuel ‘Mandrake’ Isley; but you can call me Manny, I am the son of Gotham’s Poison Ivy and I’m here to thank you.” Manny greeted giving a slight bow to Marinette.

Marinette was put high alert as soon as he said ‘Poison Ivy’; he was much more dangerous than an Akuma, but him wanting to say ‘thank you’ through her off.

“Thank me?” she asked.

“Yes, you remember your trip to Gotham?”

Marinette nodded yes.

“So, you remember how you organized the mass clean up of Gotham’s parks; when no one else would, after my Mother and a few others went on a rampage?”

“I didn’t plan it alone, I had friends helping me.” Marinette informed.

Manny just nodded his head.

“True, the Wayne family helped, but you were that driving force weren’t you; you even managed to set up a better recycling system for Gotham’s park’s, and that’s more than my Mother has ever done and for that I says thank you.”

“You don’t sound like you’re happy with your mother…” Marinette commented.

“She is my Mother and to some degree I do love her,” Manny sighed, “And I share her love of plants and her idea of eco friendly things, but with the way she handles her reaction to pollution and litter; it is a miracle that the people of Gotham aren’t terrified of going green.”

Manny stood up straight and Marinette in the eye; still standing on the vine and said.

“So please, Marinette don’t be afraid of me. I am not my Mother; I plan to help the green movement the right way.”

He sounded so pure in his intentions, so Marinette was willing to give him a benefit of a doubt.

“It’s nice to meet you Manny.” Marinette smiled “I’m Marinette, but I guess you already knew that…”

“You just a lovely bloom, aren’t you?” Manny laughed softly. “I wish I could say my intentions here were completely unselfish, but I was hoping I could have your help as well Marinette.”

“With what?” Marinette asked, tilting her head to the side.

“May come on to your balcony first? This might be a long talk and my vine will likely attract some attention.” Manny made a gesture with his hand, indicating to her balcony and his vine.

“Oh! Sure!” Marinette was so used to Chat just coming on to balcony; into her space, that she never thought about anyone asking for her permission.

Manny thanked her as he hopped down; the vine receding from once it came.

“Thank you, lovely Marigold.”

Marinette blushed at the nick-name but did her best to focus.

“What would you like me to help with Manny?”

“Many things really, but todays goal would be to create a logo.” Manny admitted.

“You want to start your own awareness group?” Marinette asked.

“Yes, I want to do this the right way and I’ll start from the bottom up.”

They sat down on a bench Marinette had set up there to discuss what Manny wanted his logo to look like. It was not a quick talk as Marinette keep giving new ideas and a outside perspective for Manny. Eventually they came up with a logo for Manny to use and he had to leave.

“Please forgive me my lovely Marigold, but I must leave.”

“It’s fine Manny.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No Manny, you’re starting from the ground up; with who you’re related to acting as an obstacle. Let this be my good luck gift to you.”

Manny gave Marinette a charming smile.

“You really a bloom amongst the weeds Marinette, at least let me give you this.” Manny reached out his hand over her flowers, after a moment a vine curled up and around his hand; creating a circlet. After the circlet was complete flowers began to bloom; marigolds more accurately.

Once the flower crown was finished Manny placed gently it on Marinette’s head.

“For the lovely queen Marigold, to repay her kind heart.”

Marinette was blushing hard at Manny’s words.

Manny smiled once more at Marinette before walking to the edge of her roof, he got up on the railing and turned to face her. With her attention on him he gave Marinette a wink and salute just before flipping off the roof saying.

“Adieu”

Then he was gone.

Marinette just stood there, she couldn’t believe what had just happened to her.

“Marinette?” A small voice sounded from the roof hatch.

Turned and went to her room.

“I’m sorry Tikki, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Tikki flew up and cuddled Marinette’s cheek.

“Its fine Marinette but that was a risk.”

“I know,” Marinette sighed, “But he didn’t feel dangerous.”

“He’s from Gotham, right? Maybe call Damian and ask about him.”

“That’s a good idea Tikki, I’ll do that.”

"Granted, you were going to call him no matter what, you miss him."

"That's true." Marinette nodded her head.

"Now if only you could ask him out."

"TIKKI!"

Later with Damian when Marinette called:

Marinette was on speaker phone with Damian and his family.

“Emmanuel ‘Mandrake’ Isley? Yeah that’s Poison Ivy’s kid, but he doesn’t seem to want to follow in her foot steps; he even left Gotham, no one knew where he went until you called Marinette.” Tim explained, looking at a computer, not giving out any more information than what a normal civilian would know.

*Is he going to hurt anyone? *

“No, you’re in the clear on that one Mari. He really doesn’t want to be like his Mother, he’s even been cleared by Batman…mostly.” Tim confirmed.

*That’s good; I’d hate to think that his kindness was all an act. *

“Kindness?” Damian asked.

*He asked for permission to jump onto my balcony and he wants to start his own ‘Go green’ campaign from the ground up. He came to me to get help with a logo, he was very much a gentleman the entire time. *

“That’s good to hear he didn’t try anything Marinette, promise to let us know if that changes; okay?” Dick said, watch Damian’s eye twitch in irritation.

*I promise, you guys will be the first to know. *

“Good.” Damian stated bluntly.

“Hey Short-Stack?” Jason asked. “How did he pay you for the logo?”

*I didn’t accept payment from him; even though he said he wanted to. He’s starting from the ground up with nothing to really back him besides his mother’s reputation, which isn’t a good thing. *

“That’s very kind of you Mari.”

*Thank you, Dick, but since he could pay me; he gave me a flower crown he grew right in front of me, it was very sweet. *

Dick, Jason and Tim were watching Damian start to seethe.

*And he seems to like calling me Marigold; that is what the flower crown was made of, actually. *

“How the h*ll did I miss the obvious nick-name!” Jason groaned, “It literally has the word ‘Mari’ in it.”

*Sorry Jason, but you won’t be able to use it now. *

Damian was starting to look apocalyptic and Dick and Tim were trying to keep him from exploding which Marinette was on the phone.

*I should go now; I have some homework to do before bed. *

“That’s I good idea Mari, it was great talking with you!” Dick chirped, while having his hands firmly on Damian’s shoulders.

*Night guys! Night Damian! *

“Night Marinette!” Was the group farewell.

Once the phone call was disconnected Jason decided it would be fun to take a few shots at Damian.

“Looks like Demon Spawn had some competition for Pixie-dusts attention.”

“Jason!” Dick scolded.

“He’s right you know, and Mandrake is apparently better at talking to people as well, the Brat is at a disadvantage.”

“Die Drake!” Damian launched himself at his brother.

“I’ll go ask Bruce to book a trip to Paris.” Dick sighed, walking out of the room, leave Tim and Damian brawling and Jason laughing.

Next Day in Paris with Manny:

Manny was in the park exercising another one his powers; talking to plants, he asked them about the lovely Marigold.

‘She’s sweet.’ They said.

‘She’s kind.’ They praised.

‘She’s hurting.’ They grieved.

“Hurting?” Manny asked.

They spoke of a liar; one of stories that were far too good to be true, of classmates with no common sense, and of a boy with false promises.

“This cannot be allowed to continue.” Manny murmured.

The plants told Manny of the liar’s favorite lie, one he would very good at exploiting.

“Thank you, my friends; this gives me chance to help Marigold remove the weeds in her life.” Manny looked towards the sky, “I should also make my intentions towards her clear, I would hate for her to misunderstand me.”

After school with Marinette:

Marinette was happy to rush out of school, but unfortunately Lila and her herd of sheep were right behind her.

“Prince Ali said we should get together soon again; apparently he misses me.” Lila was boasting about her green program with Prince Ali again, and the class was eating it up.

“You’re so lucky Lila.” Rose sighed.

“Girl you are something else.” Alya cheered.

Marinette rolled her eyes, a quick web search would be all it would take to debunk that lie, but if she were the one doing it, they would never even listen. Since Marinette wasn’t watching where she was going, she bumped into someone at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette apologized, not looking at the persons face.

“Its fine Marigold, my plan was to ‘Bump’ into you anyway.”

Marinette shot up at the voice.

“Manny!” Marinette blinked in surprise, “What brings you here?”

“Why? Can’t I visit you Marigold?” Manny questioned, delivering a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand making her blush.

As Marinette tried to stammer a reply, the class; Lila mostly, saw the scene. They were surprised to see a handsome young man giving a kiss to Marinettte’s hand. Lila was not about to allow Marinette to have any happiness.

“Hello there, are you new?” Lila asked, in a very fake sweet voice.

Manny only gave her a passing glance.

“Don’t mind me; I’m just here to talk Marigold about a ‘Go Green’ program.”

Lila thought this was perfect.

“I could help you; you know. I helped Prince Ali with a GLOBAL green program a couple years ago.”

Lila was wrong.

“Really? What the name of the program?” Manny asked, now looking directly at Lila.

“N-Name?” Lila stuttered; she never came up with one.

“Yeah, the name; how else am I to look up and join your ‘Global’ program if I don’t know its name?” Manny inquired.

“Umm…I don’t remember it?” Lila tried.

“What? You don’t remember the name of your OWN program?”

Marinette was staring in awe at Manny; did he some how plan this?

“Well, I can get very busy…” Lila began, Manny never her finish.

“I suppose that is understandable, but a quick web search should clear everything up. I mean there can only be only so many green programs Prince Ali is a part of.” Manny offered.

“To bad my phone died earlier, so I can’t do that right now.”

Lila was getting nervous, this conversation with this guy was drawing a crowd; normally something she would like, but he is poking holes in her story she wasn’t prepared for. No one had thought about ‘joining’ her ‘green program’.

Alya ended up being Manny’s ally and Lila’s enemy.

“Don’t worry girl! I got your back!” Alya yelled, whipping out her phone.

After a couple a minutes Alya started frowning.

“What’s wrong Alya?” Rose asked.

“I went to Prince Ali’s website,” Alya started “But, there’s nothing about a green program there; any green program…”

The class looked over at Lila.

“H-He hasn’t had anyone update the site in a while.” Lila excused.

“In years?” Manny’s question came out more as a statement.

Marinette was quiet, watching as one of Lila’s biggest lies crumbled; other members of the class were now pulling out their phones to double check. Why didn’t they do that when Marinette said she was lying?

“Why would you lie about that Lila?” Rose was near tears.

“I-I’m sorry,” Lila faked sniffed. “But I promise; I did meet Jagged Stone and traveled the world. I’ve even met the Wayne family, the youngest; Damian, just loves me!”

The class; ever the sheep, began to close in on Lila in admiration when a hard voice growled.

“I’ve never met you before in my life, you lying harpy!”

Everyone to see a very angry Damian Wayne; dressed in a polo shirt and some slacks.

“Damian!” Marinette cheered. “I didn’t know you were coming to Paris!”

“I wanted to surprise you Angel.” Damian faced Marinette with a smile, the complete opposite of what he was giving Lila, before turning back to the class. “Don’t EVER use my name; or that of my families, for your gain. If I find out that you have continued along ridiculous tales, you will be hearing from the Wayne family lawyers.”

Lila was turning white in the face, well as white as her tan would allow her to be.

“Two very massive tales you’ve told have turned out to be lies; one of them being a few years old apparently.” Manny tutted.

“She probably has more lies she’s told; anyone who’s willing to tell such big lies always have multiple stories, I know the type.” Damian sneered.

“When you first started talking, I thought you were just a weed growing in the garden, but it is clear to me now that you are nothing but a slug; gnawing at the roots of plants, destroying them for your own nourishment.” Manny stated, shaking his head.

Damian turned to face the class.

“Did ANY of you check anything?”

The class looks sheepish.

“Disgusting; next she’ll be saying she knows Jagged Stone.” Damian turned his nose up at the class.

"Ah, it seems you missed that part. She said that just before you got here." Manny informed.

"Really?" Damian said sarcastically. "How did she meet him?"

"She rescued his kitten from an airport runway, he even wrote a song about her!" Alya argued, deep down praying this was true.

Damian and Manny looked at Alya in disbelief.

"Oh God," Damian choked out. "Aren't you the supposed 'journalist'? The creator of the 'Ladyblog’? A quick search would have told you Jagged Stone never had a cat, he doesn't like them."

"Not to mention that civilians aren't allowed on runways." Manny chipped in.

"And did you really not ask Marinette?" Damian continued. "Someone who knows him PERSONALLY; as in HAS HIS NUMBER!"

"W-We forgot?" Alya tried, though it came out as more of a question.

"Forgot or chose to ignore?" Manny asked.

The class couldn’t give an answer that didn't sound bad.

"Okay, maybe Lila lied about meeting people, but she saved Max from losing an eye!" Alya insisted.

Damian was intrigued.

"How did she 'save' him?"

Lila winced, know what was about to be said sounded out right dumb.

"She kept a napkin from hitting his eye and cutting it out."

Alya looked very proud when she said that, but the looks she got from Damian and Manny, Marinette was just shaking her head, dimmed the pride she felt.

"A napkin? She 'saved' him from a napkin?" Manny heard about this from the plants, but to hear it out loud was a different thing.

Damian had a look of horror on his face and turned to Marinette.

"Angel, I can't in good conscience let you continue going to this school, it lowers your IQ and removes common sense. You are brilliant and I would never be able to live with myself if you lost that because of something that I could have helped you avoid."

"HEY!" the class out raged.

"He's right, you know." Manny defended. "Which one of you is Max?"

"I am." Max stepped forward and Manny took a good look at him.

"How is it possible to lose an eye to a NAPKIN?! And even if it were possible; you're wearing glasses, so you would have had protection from it in the first place!"

Max could only squirm in place at Manny’s statement.

“Right then,” Damian nodded his head. “Marinette will ask Father to transfer you to Gotham Academy. You will have nothing but the best for you there.”

“Damian, that’s very sweet of you to offer, but I couldn’t leave Paris and my parents just yet.” Marinette gently objected.

“She also wouldn’t be safe in Gotham Wayne,” Manny cut in. “Not to mention that Gotham Academy would do nothing to help her with her dream of being a designer.”

“Then I would be happy to help her to get into an art school in Paris Isley” Damian said, looking up schools on his phone. “Here is an excellent one Angel and it’s not too far from your home.”

“Guys please! It is very sweet of you to offer, but I want to get in on my own merit; not because of who I know.”

Damian and Manny gave a soft look to Marinette.

“Of course Angel, it was rude of us to assume what you want.” Damian apologized.

“Forgive us Marigold?” Manny asked.

“I forgive you, but please try not to do it again; okay?” Marinette asked at the end.

“Promise.” They said in synchronise.

“Thank you.”

With the promise made Damian and Manny looked back at the class; who were on their phones trying, and failing, to find SOMETHING to support Lila.

They found nothing.

Marinette’s classmate’s felt horrible, what have they done...

“Marinette...” Alya started, but was cut off by the girl herself.

“No Alya, you could have done all this when I first said she was a liar 2 years ago; all of you could have, but you CHOSE not to because you liked her words better than the truth. So the way you’re feeling now is not my fault, it’s yours.”

Alya and a few others started to tear up. Adrien tried to come to their rescue.

“Come on Marinette they feel bad enough as it is.”

“Again, that is their fault, not mine. Marinette stood strong, having long gotten over Adrien.

“But...”

“No, no ‘buts’’. This has been a long time coming and now they’re facing the results of their actions. Part of the reason it’s this bad is because of you Adrien.”

Adrien jerked back like he was slapped, the class gasped.

“You were the one to say we shouldn’t expose her lies remember; because ‘They’re not hurting anyone’. It hurt me when I was sent the back without being allowed to give any input, it hurt me when my ‘friends’ just dismissed me as jealous until they needed something from me, it hurt me when you promised to have my back only to go back on it not a moment later.”

Adrien gulped, he didn’t want to believe what Marinette was saying.

“Lila could have been Akumatized...”

“I WAS NEARLY AKUMATIZED 6 TIMES YOU JERK!!!!!” Marinette finally yelled “Do really not care about my safety?!”

The entire class recoiled, 6 near misses, they could have encountered an Akumatized Marinette. Someone who’s smart and creative, someone who could give Ladybug a run for her money; and they almost had to face her.

“I...” Adrien started.

“NO! No more fake apologies, no more false promises. I’m no longer going to be this class’ doormat and scape goat, if you want something from now on; you have to earn it like a normal person!” Marinette finalized.

Marinette was panting after her rant; Damian wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“We should get you away from these people Angel; they are clearly bad for your health.”

Manny gently grabbed one of the fists she made during her rant and began trying to rub the tension out of it.

“Wayne is right Marigold, this much stress will cause you to wilt.”

They began leading Marinette away; back to her family’s bakery, not before throwing a hard glare back at the class.

The class watch the trio walk away, some with tears running down their faces, knowing they blown it with their Everyday Ladybug; all for some girl with pretty words and no proof.

At Marinette’s Famliy Bakery:

All three people were sitting on Marinette’s balcony; the girl tired from her emotional outburst, was leaning on Damian’s should to her left and to her right Manny was playing with her fingers.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Marinette finally breathed.

“Don’t be Angel, you needed to let that out.” Damian comforted.

“There is no shame in expressing yourself Marigold.” Manny assured.

“Thank you Damian, Manny.”

They sat quietly for awhile before Damian asked a question.

“Were you truly nearly turned into that monster’s minion 6 times Angel?”

“...Yes” Came the hesitant answer.

“Why didn’t tell me Angel? My family and I would have done something!”

“I didn’t want to worry you or your family Damian. Besides what could you have done?”

“A transfer of schools would have happened.” Damian admitted.

“Yes, because Gotham is a safe place.” Manny said sarcastically.

Damian shot him a look.

“Guys please don’t fight; I really don’t have the energy to keep up with you right now.” Marinette interrupted.

“Fine.” The boys agreed.

“Thank you.” Marinette sighed.

They stayed like until Marinette fell asleep. That’s when a discussion started between the two young men.

“It seems we both like this lovely bloom.”

“I suppose it is to be expected, Marinette is an Angel.”

There was a brief pause.

“You shouldn’t be near her; your life is dangerous.” Damian started.

“And you should? Your family is one of the biggest targets in Gotham.” Manny quipped back.

They were at a stalemate.

“You know,” Manny began. “Neither one of us is really gets to decide this.”

Damian reluctantly nodded his head.

“True and in the end, it is her happiness that matters, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try for her affections.”

“Then we understand each other Wayne.”

The next day:

Marinette was walking into her classroom, on time for once, greeted by stares and silence. She expected that, but what she didn’t expect was the large bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk. It was beautiful, roses, lilies, snap dragons, marigolds all combined together.

Marinette walked up the stairs, becoming more aware of the looks she was getting with each step. Once she reached her desk Marinette saw a note, opening it; it read:

To the lovely Marigold,

May these flowers brighten your day, like your smile brightens mine.

Sincerely,

Manny.

Marinette couldn’t help but turn slightly pink, why did Manny have to do this?

“Hey girl, who’s it from?” Alya asked.

“That’s none of your concern Alya.” Marinette huffed, she couldn’t believe she was going to try and act like nothing had ever happen between them.

Alya flinched, but backed down, the teacher came in and the lesson began.

Time flew by rather quickly and soon it was after lunch and everyone was returning to their classrooms, only when Marinette walked in there was a second surprise waiting for her.

There sitting on her desk, beside the flowers, were three bags. Upon opening them Marinette learned the bags contained various pieces of high-quality fabric; again, there was a note.

To my beloved Angel,

I hope this helps bring your dreams into creation.

Yours truly,

Damian.

Marinette turned a bright red; she knew Damian was a sweet heart.

“Marinette, who is it from?” Adrien asked this time.

“Again, its not any of your concern.” Marinette stated.

Adrien didn’t seem ready to back down, but the teacher came and started class again.

After class:

Marinette was making her way down the front steps, gifts in hand, with Adrien close behind her.

“Marinette, those things…”

She stopped him before he got any farther.

“These are gifts Adrien; you have no say in them, and I didn’t ask the people gifting them to do so during school. That was their own decision. And if you try to make it seem like this my plan to make the others feel bad you will be leaving with a limp.”

Adrien took a couple steps away from Marinette hearing that.

“None of this is my fault Adrien, it’s Lila’s. All she had to do was not lie and be a decent person and none of this would have happened, but I suppose it’s a good thing she did lie. She just proved to me how little I meant to you or the class outside what I can do for you and guess what? I decided I deserve better friends and partners.”

Marinette’s rant was firm, not loud, but Adrien felt like it was shouted next to his ear.

A slow clap from behind Marinette reached them, they turned and saw Damian.

“Well put Angel, but I feel it was a little understated; you deserve the world in my opinion.”

“Damian!” Marinette greeted. “I wasn’t expecting you here!”

“I came to help get you home, I didn’t want my gift and you school items to drag you down.” Damian said, walking over to her, he glanced at the flowers she was holding as well. “Though it seems I’m not the only one who thought you deserved a gift.”

“Apparently…” Marinette trailed off, unsure how to answer Damian.

“They are lovely though,” Damian admitted, grabbing a lily and placing it in Marinette’s hair; causing her to blush. “and I adore seeing you happy above all.”

“Damian.” Marinette sighed.

“I best be getting you home now Angel, unless there was something else you wanted to do before that?” Damian asked.

“No Damian, home sounds wonderful.” Marinette smiled.

Damian nodded his head and started leading Marinette to a car nearby. He helped her place her gifts in the back and held open the passenger door for her to get in. But, before the door closed Adrien heard Marinette ask.

“Damian, I have a great idea for a suit I would like to make you, would you like to see it?”

“I would love to Angel.”

Damian then closed the car door, got in on the other side and drove away; leaving Adrien standing at the school alone, with the understanding that he was not going to get his way.

The next several days were very similar, Marinette would find flowers on her desk from Manny in the morning and a range of gifts from Damian, from sewing supplies to some small pieces of jewelry. Marinette was flattered, but she didn’t want material objects.

One day she finally got to meet with them in the park.

“Guys, this very sweet of you, but I don’t need all this.”

“We know that Marigold,” Manny said. “We want to do all of that though.”

“Indeed Angel,” Damian agreed. “like I said before, you deserve the world.”

“What am I going to do with you guys?” Marinette moaned, turning a bright red.

“Well…” Manny started. “There is something.”

“What?” Marinette asked.

“You can answer a question Marigold?” The red-haired boy asked.

“Sure.”

“Are you attracted to either one of us? And if so, would you like to go on a date with that person?”

Marinette was stunned at Manny’s question, Damian saw this and explained.

“Angel, we both have feels for you and we both want you to be happy. If you say ‘No’ to one or both of us we will back off.”

Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, held it, and then released it.

“First of all, both of you are wonderful people, you respected me and stood up for me when I needed it, any person would be lucky to have a relationship with you.”

She turned to Manny.

“Manny you are charming and sweet, you have a wonderful dream and are well under way to achieving it, but I’m sorry; I’m not attracted to you.”

Manny gave a sad smile.

“I understand Marigold, may I still call you that?”

“You can Manny.” Marinette confirmed, nodding her head.

Marinette then turned to Damian.

“Damian you are a strong, kind (in your own way) and a driven individual. Since I’ve met you, you’ve listened to my ideas, you’ve mdke me smile and you’ve challenged me to do my best. I am attracted to Damian and I very like you as well, I have for a while, but I never worked up the nerve to ask you out.”

Marinette was blushing as she finished.

Damian was wide eyed in awe, Marinette; his Angel, liked him. He could have asked her out sooner and she would have said yes! He wasted so much time!

“You honor me Angel.” Damian said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. “I promise to be the partner you deserve.”

Manny was still smiling sadly, but, like Damian said earlier, Marinette’s happiness and consent was the important part in all of this.

“Just be aware Wayne, you break her heart; I’ll break you.”

Damian looked Manny in the eye.

“If I break her heart, I’ll come find you so you can.”

“I’m glad we understand each other Wayne.” Manny turned to Marinette. “I think its time I move on from Paris Marigold, I have many ventures to take and more people to talk to.”

“Good luck Manny.” Marinette smiled.

Manny gave one last salute to Marinette before leaving.

Once he was out of sighted Marinette sighed.

“Why do I feel like I just chased him out of Paris.”

“You didn’t do that Angel,” Damian assured, wrapping his arms around her. “His plans for a good ‘Go green’ program involved him traveling around and talking to all that he could.”

“True,” Marinette agreed. “I hope he finds happiness though.”

“I’m sure he will Angel.” Damian nodded his head. “Now, would the lovely Angel Marinette accompany me on a date?”

Marinette giggled.

“I’d like that Damian.”

Marinette began guiding Damian to her favorite café for their first, and proper, date.

End.

That was Pant Charming.

Also

Extra 1:

Why there was no Akumas:

Hawkmoth – Go my Akuma darken their heart.

Butterfly - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth – Right…Let’s try this again, go my Akuma darken…

Butterfly #2 - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth - *Eye twitching* R-Right, third times the charm, go my…

Butterfly #3 - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth – You know what? I think I’ll just stop for today.

Extra 2:

Mari - *Looking up new schools*

Tikki - *Looking over her shoulder* This is a nice Marinette.

Mari - *Nodding her head* Yeah it is, this is the one Damian was talking about.

Tikki – A new school will be good for you and it’s an art school, so you’ll have more subjects focusing on fashion.

Mari – Yeah and it will be nice to get away from that toxic class. Just because they know Lila’s lying now, it doesn’t change what they did to me.

Tikki - *Angry* - They got away with a slap on the wrist if ask me.

Mari – Maybe, but I don’t think they would survive anything designed by you…or Damian…or Manny…or Damian’s family…

#maribat #DamiMari #maridami #Daminette #OC #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x damian #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake

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lu-undy · 4 years

Note

Hi, Lu! This is a spicy one eheh. Sniper is taking a nap on a hammock outside the base. Spy is bored so he decides to look for his lover. When he finds him, Sniper is asleep and Spy has an idea. Spy hops up the hammock, careful not to fall nor wake Sniper up, and situates himself straddling Sniper's hips. Spy starts grinding his ass to Sniper's crotch, waiting for a reaction. What a nice feeling to wake up to, huh Snipes? (and then Spy rides snipes' dicc eheheh) 🔥💕

Hey there! Thanks a lot for the prompt. At first I wasn’t suuper ok with Spy having his way while Sniper is asleep so it took me a bit of time to get to it. But I changed it a bit such that Sniper lets Spy know that he is awake :) I hope you enjoy!!

"Sniper…?"

The Frenchman had been looking for his lover everywhere as soon he had come back from his errands. He had parked his bright red car in the garage spot that Engie had kindly arranged for it and since then, wanted nothing else but spend some quality time with his beloved Aussie.

And he eventually found him. Well, he saw the van in the distance and could guess his lover was in there. Spy smiled to himself and started walking in direction of the van. It wasn't too hot as the sun was setting, painting the sky in mellow streaks of pink.

When he arrived he realised his lover wasn't in the van but on a hammock. He had installed it between two cacti and parked the van such that no one could see him from the base, laying as naked as man could be, his face covered with his hat.

Spy got closer to his lover to better appreciate the view. The caramel tinted skin, which had darkened under the sun, the beautifully sculpted silhouette, the chest hair and lower down, a sight that made the Frenchman's eyes light up. The slow breaths of the man Spy's heart was beating for held something magnetic. The Frenchman removed his gloves and let them fall on the dusty orange ground of the desert before letting his palm hover above his lover's chest.

The heat that Sniper's skin had absorbed was radiating off of his entire body. Spy felt it through his hand. Speaking of hands, Sniper's right one was on his chest but the other was dangling off of the hammock, nonchalantly. Spy crouched down and took his lover's hand in his.

"Tu es beau quand tu dors."

[You are handsome when you sleep.]

The Frenchman kissed Sniper's hand tenderly. He just pressed his lips and left them there for a while, with his eyes closed. He appreciated it all, the roughness of the skin, the heat of it, and the taste against his lips. He loved it all.

He pulled Sniper's hand to his cheek and his eyes snapped wide when two curious digits slid underneath the mask, next to his mouth to touch his bare cheek. Spy looked at his lover but his face was still under the hat so he had no way of knowing if he was awake or not.

The Frenchman decided to test it further. He smiled maliciously as he stood up. He glanced over in the direction of the base, just to double check, and all he could see was the van.

Parfait. He thought.

[Perfect.]

He slipped out of his clothes and carefully straddled his lover's waist. Of course Spy didn't see it but his lover was smiling wide under the hat and as soon as he felt Spy's naked skin against him, shivers ran down his spine.

Spy bent down and could feel that Sniper was awake, not on his face, not his chest, but lower down…

He smirked and started grinding against his lover's lower abdomen, slowly, seductively, until a hand grazed his thigh. Spy didn't not stop, but now that he had made sure his lover was awake, he bent down and, still rolling his hips and backside against the Aussie's length, he lapped at the man's chest, licking and tasting.

Sniper's skin prickled and his chest inflated amply under the attention that he didn't see coming. And Spy felt it, Sniper's masculinity throbbed at the swirling of his tongue against the Aussie's deep pink skin. He was breathing more heavily that normal and his face was flustered but the hat did a good job at hiding it.

Spy's kisses moved up, along Sniper's collarbone and neck, until he needed the hat off. He lifted it and slid underneath while the Aussie strong hands clawed in his thighs and started rolling his hips too. But the tall man struggled. His entire body tried to maintain the balance on the hammock while he tried to make Spy understand that he wanted more and was now fully in the mood for it.

The Frenchman removed the hat and went straight for his lover's lips. He bit his lower one playfully, a wide malicious grin on his face and let his tongue slowly dive in and dance with Sniper's. The Aussie welcomed the slick intrusion with a satisfied groan and his hands slid up his lover's thighs to grasp his tender backside. Spy moaned at the powerful sensation and Sniper drank his low sigh like a delicacy.

"You were not sleeping?"

"I woke up when I heard yer foot steps."

"Sorry, was I too loud?"

"Nah, I was waitin' for you. Why d'you think I was sleepin' naked, eh?"

Their kisses punctuated each sentence with a lapping noise and moans.

"I've missed ya while you where away, Spook…"

Sniper's fingers kneaded his lover's backside, pulling it apart slowly. Spy's moans jumped an octave and he slid his hands in his lover's hair, grasping the brown, wavy locks there firmly.

"And I wanted you so badly…"

Sniper growled in his lover's ear

"Mon Dieu… I want you too…"

Spy grabbed his lover's hard member and gave it a few strokes. Sniper screwed his eyes shut.

"Ooh… Yeah, yeah…"

The Frenchman then lifted himself off of his lover's pelvis just enough to position himself before slowly sinking down on Sniper's aching masculinity, relaxing his lower body more and more as he soon welcomed it entirely in his body.

"Bugger… You feel so, so good… Ooh…"

Sniper bit his lip.

"So do you, mon amour. Now you let me enjoy myself, please."

[My love]

Spy's hips started rolling slowly at first for him to get used to it and not hurt himself. But soon enough, he needed it faster, so his hips rocked back and forth quicker on his lover who had nothing to do but enjoy himself.

"Ooh… God… Y-yeah… Just like that…. Oh you make me feel so good…"

Spy put his hands on Sniper's shoulders for better leverage and as he pleasured both of them, the Aussie opened his eyes to see the face of the man above him stil in the balaclava.

"Remove yer mask… please…"

Spy yanked it off fast and threw it away still riding his lover as if it was the last chance they had to spend a sexy moment with each other. Finally Sniper could enjoy the sight of his lover's naked face, the sweat had wet his hair and as he rocked himself up and down on Sniper's length, Spy's white front lock of hair whipped his face at the rhythm of his thrusts. His face and upper chest were now red too from the effort and the raw force of the pleasure splitting his body in halves.

"Mmh… S-spy… I'm getting close… Oh my God… Please…"

Spy bent down and closed the gap between their chests as he slowed his thrusts down. Their breaths mingled in their moans and the air between them was hotter than anywhere else in the entire desert. Spy's hands went to his lover's face while Sniper's wrapped around him. Their chests slid against each other with ease, both being sweaty as if they had run a marathon.

"I'm close too…"

But now Spy was rolling his hips seductively. He wanted the last moments to be the most exquisite agony for them both. Sniper looked down and saw his lover's member fully red and swollen. He removed one of his hands from Spy's backside and delicately wrapped his fingers around it.

"Oh-Sniper! Hss…!"

The Frenchman hissed.

"C'mere, gimme yer lips. Let's do this together."

Spy obeyed without the meaning of the words fully hitting his head. He stuck his lips to Sniper's and felt his tongue being lasciviously pushed left and right, slowly.

"Hmmm, hmm, hmm, hm!"

Spy's moans went higher and higher in pitch up until he couldn't take it anymore and as he cried in his lover's open mouth, Sniper groaned powerfully. Both reached their peaks and stuck to each other in a hard embrace. Sniper felt Spy's hips jolt a few time and his own chest got stained with the proof of the Frenchman's pleasure. Meawhile, he thrusted up and deep in his lover too.

They stayed in each other's arms, still connected, to catch their breaths and make their heartbeats calm down. Their members were tired but still gave the occasional twitch. Sniper looked for Spy's lips and kissed them, tugged at the lower lip before licking it. Both with their eyes closed, Spy answered and pushed Sniper's tongue with his before saying:

"Sniper, I love you so much."

"So do I, darl', you're amazin'. With you, I don't even need to talk for you to know what I want. It's like you're in my head."

"As much and deeper than you are in me now, oui."

Spy answered, whipering. He slowly disconnected from his lover and laid on top him while Sniper laced his arms around him and covered his sweaty face with kisses.

"I love you…"

The sentence diffused in the warm air of the desert like under the gentle breeze of Sniper's whisper.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #n/s/f/w

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grimmhorizen01 · 3 years

Text

The Black Devils Attack Boston

Jack was like a lot of people, just trying to survive whatever Boston threw at him.

Unlike everyone else however, he usually had the advantage. Be it, in a gun fight or in a conversation, he usually came out on top.

As his back rested against a steel barricade that was slowly being chipped away by gunfire, his only thought was, ‘where the hell is his support’.

Which as he looked to his left finally arrived.

When he first saw her fighting against the Mechanist’s robots, he thought for sure she was gonna end up scrapped.

But she didn’t, with his help at least.

As he watched Ada sprint over the hill, her twin Gatling lasers revered up and unleashed hell upon the would-be raiders.

“SHIT ROBOT” he heard one of the raiders shout, and in turn he peaked around the steel barricade and fired at the now standing raider, who’s head soon came clean off.

“Ada get some rockets in there!” he shouted.

Since he first meet Ada, he’s tweaked with her weaponry and her frame, usually a Assaultron frame wouldn’t be able to carry more than two weapons, but with a little steel here and little bit of construction grade servos there and bam, better lift and higher achievable speed.

Which allowed her to carry at least one heavy weapon, and most of time it usually was a modified quad barrel rocket launcher.

An right on queue, one high explosive missile nails a raiders and pulverized his entire upper body.

“FALL BACK” one of the raiders shouted and soon the remaining raiders ran as bullets and lasers picked off the slower of the bunch.

“I’m not detecting anymore hostile sir. We are in the clear” her voice echoed throughout the collapsed building of Boston.

“Ok, let’s get moving”, Jack walked towards the now empty road and soon began searching the raiders for anything good.

“Ada, what do we have plan today?” He asked as he heard the robot move closer to him.

“The Slog has a problem and would like you to come and helped them with. We are also low on aluminum and adhesive.” She listed off a few more which he nodded at.

“Sir can I ask you something?” As Jack finished searching the last raider, he looked back at Ada.

“Go ahead” he signaled for them to move on to the next block.

“Why do you continue to have me travel with you? You have other companions, yet you continue to have me with you.” Her question made Jack looked at her before sighing.

“Ada is that building clear of hostiles?” He scanned the building as it groaned with stress and waited for her answer.

“Yes sir” she answer and soon followed as he entered the building.

As he closed the door behind them and pushed a metal desk in front of it.

After making sure it wasn’t going to open, he sat in a nearby chair and took off his helmet and bandanna.

His ran his hand against his face and felt the all to familiar scars, the most prominent was the three that ran down the right side of his face.

“What I wouldn’t give for some fucking shampoo” he sighed as he ran his hand through his unkept hair.

“Ada the reason I keep you around is because of your personality, you know what it like to loss someone and you know how it feels to want revenge. Also you don’t fucking complain every time I go on a scarp run” he sighed as he leaned back against the chair which creaked with the weight against it.

“If you say so sir” she sighed as she sat down against the floor, both of her Gatling lasers disconnected and fell to the floor, which allowed her the ability to attach her claws.

As he watched her disconnect the Gatling lasers he slowly stood up and walked over to her and grab said claws from a pack on her waist.

“Here let me help”, he squatted beside her an waited for her to lift her wrist up and extent them.

Once she did, he connected the joints together and once connected, she tested them and once certain that they work she leaned back against the wall an sorted through the bags on her back and her waist.

“Ada how are we doing on ammo?” Jack asked as he leaned back against the same wall Ada was and watched as she sorted through every single item they had collected so far.

“We are low on .44 and .50, if we head for Diamond City we should make before another raiding party arrives”.

Right as she said that a distant voice could be heard, “Sir the scouts said they went in there!”

“Shit” Jack immediately reached into a side pocket and grabbed a fragmentation mine and chucked it at the door and hopped over a coach.

Ada on the other hand, disconnect her left claw and reattached one of the Gatling lasers.

“COME ON OUT WASTELANDER!” Whoever these guy’s were, they were bad news.

“YOU HAVE 5 MINUTES TO LEAVE THE BUILDING BEFORE WE COME IN THERE!” Silence, Jack wasn’t going to give up that easily.

And that’s when he heard the very distinctive sound of a vertibirds.

“Ada ready weapons, this is either gunners or rouge brotherhood” he looked over at Ada and saw her connect the other Gatling laser, before kicking the claws over to Jack.

“Weapons primed and ready sir” as she spoke all three of her weapons locked on to the door way.

“Sir I don’t think they leaving” As Ada listen in on the enemy, she soon heard heavy foot steps walking closer and closer.

As Jack watched the door he soon came up with a very dumb idea, as he looked straight at the door he reached down to this thigh and grabbed a flare.

“Send them in” the voice shouted, an soon plasma started nailing the metal door, which soon began to melted upon contact.

‘Please be gunners’, Jack thought as he watched the door melt away he quickly ducked under a plasma bolt and in retaliation lit the flare and threw it out the door.

After a couple second of silence, a voice came over the radio, “shells inbound general”.

And soon whatever was out there was destroyed, he even heard the very familiar sound of crashing vertibirds.

As Jack stood up, he immediately got hit by large ball of heated plasma which luckily ricochet off of his chest armor and made him crash against the wall.

As an armored foot stepped forward towards them, the mine Jack placed detonated and seem to cripple the armored individual.

As Ada watched Jack hit the wall, her processors went into overdrive as she smashed into the now crippled armored giant, and with her entire metal chassis, pinned the man to a nearby wall and unloaded 2 entire fusion core into their head.

Ada wasn’t letting another person die because of her, if anyone was going to die it wasn’t going to be them.

“Fuck” Jack cursed as he stood up and ready his weapon towards the door and soon saw a set of red eyes peering through the smoke cloud.

“Enemy armor, watch out!” He shouted as a large black gauntlet reached forward with a plasma pistol and soon began to unload upon them.

“Die wastelander scum” a staticky voice echoed.

Ada leaned back and turned around to see a hulking suit of heavily modified X-02 power armor, in its hand was a fully automatic plasma pistol with sprayed Jacks position with glowing hot green projectiles.

As she aimed both Gatling lasers at the foe, her audio receptors soon pickup the loud foot steps of power armor and began to unload her own weapons on to them.

As the assailant tried firing again a rocketed soon hit their hand and detonated the pistol in their hand.

As the plasma slowly melted the mans metal hand, he sprinted forward and crashed into Ada and soon began crushing one of her Gatling lasers and as fast as lighting it was ripped off of her joint and thrown to the side.

As Jack watched he reached for his rifle an fired at the metal giant which sent a dent into the helmet.

“Why don’t you just die mutie?” The man dropped Ada, who slumped over, and walked over to Jack and as soon as he got close, Ada shot up and fired a rocket into the mans back.

The man, surprised by the robots resilience, turned and pulled out another plasma pistol, this one however wasn’t automatic instead it was a plasma thrower.

As he did, time slowed down to a crawl as Jack watched the metal man soon pull the trigger, as he stared at them, he soon pushed through the pain and grabbed his ripper and charged.

“GET THE FUCKING HELL AWAY FROM HER!” Jack shouted as he dashed forward and jammed the ripper into the power armors armpit and soon felt as it tear right through their arm, and hopefully the insides.

As Ada watched Jack sprint forward with the ripper, her visual receptors soon went blank as plasma hit and melt away at her armor plating.

All Ada could do was listen as she was blinded by the plasma, she soon heard a loud crash as well as the sound of a ripper hitting metal repeatedly.

An then nothing, only the sound of sizzling metal and heavy breathing.

As Ada sat against the wall, she soon heard the sound of foot steps and a flare being lit and thrown.

“Ada report” Jacks voice echoed through Ada’s damage audio receptors.

“Visual and audio receptors compromised, repairs needed. Left hand joint destroyed. Sir I think it might be a good idea to head home”

“Ok, fuck. Brotherhoods inbound, we’ll head to the Prydwen, gotta tell Arthur about this” Ada listen as Jack stepped closer to her and soon felt his hands reach under her arms and lift, which with her help allowed them to move outside.

After 10 minutes of waiting and scavenging, Ada finally registered a friendly vertibird, “sir they have arrived”.

As Jack watched the vertibird land, he watched two knights exit the craft and secure the landing zone.

“Knights get over here!” Jack shouted at them and they listened.

“What is it Sentinel?” One of the knights ask as she looked around at the crater filled streets.

“Get the robot on the vertibird” he point at Ada and then looked at the other knight “and you come over here”.

As the knight did as she was told, Jack took the other knight to the building he and Ada had defended.

“Soldier tell me, do your recognized these guys?” He pointed at the remnants of the power armor.

The knight walked forward and examined the bodies and after a minute of poking and prodding, he came back with and answer.

“well if I’m right sir, these guys are Enclave, sir we need to tell the Elder” Jack nodded and walked outside and made his way to the vertibird with knight following behind him.

After making sure Ada was secured to the craft, he signaled to the pilots lift off, “pilot get us to the prydwen on the double!”.

As Jack waited for the prydwen to come into view, he could only think of Ada, her chassis was heavily damaged and her left arm joint was entirely destroyed, and until he got her back to somewhere with tools, she was blind.

“Sir prydwen coming into view now” the co-pilot yelled.

After docking with the Prydwen, Jack instructed the two knights to take Ada to his room an he headed for Arthur.

“Sentinel, I hope this is a emergency” Arther yawned as he stepped out of his room.

After Arthur took a sip from his mug he looked at Jack and waited.

“Arther, about a hour ago, I was attacked by, what a knight tells me, the Enclave” Arther tired expression soon faded as he stared at Jack.

“They seem to want something from me I have no clue what, but they seem to have been trailing me for who knows how long” by now they had made it to Kell’s.

“Captain, alert the crew. We have an old foe to confront” Kell’s nodded and soon announce to the entire crew about they’re current situation.

“Sentinel go to your quarters. Get some rest, tomorrow I’m sending you in a recon mission. If these bastards are here than we need to crush them before they can gain a foot hold on the Commonwealth” the Elder turned and looked out unto the Commonwealth.

As Jack sat in his room, he stared at the now semi disassemble Ada, who only had her main chassis, legs and right arm attached, as her armor plating was set aside and being worked on by Procter Ingram, God bless her for being able to do so.

Her left arm was an entirely different situation.

“Ada system report” Jack asked as he grabbed a screwdriver and tighten a loss pair of circuitry.

“Visual marginal, audio receptors have been restored” Jack sighed as he stared at Adas head and looked at it.

“God damn it what the hell wrong, I’ve changed the lenses, repaired over half the circuitry in your body, and still you can’t see?!” Jack angrily throw the screwdriver into a nearby dart board.

“Sir I know you don’t like this option but, you might hav-“Ada heard him smash his hand against something, by the sound it was probably metal.

“Ada, No. I’m not going back there, if those bastards are still tracking me, they’ll easily be able to kill me down in that factory”

As she sat there, her processors ran a multitude of calculation an as she did her system alert her to something, “Sir I have detected a fault in a subroutine”, whatever Jack was doing soon stopped as he ran over to her and plugged his pipboy into the side of her head.

“No wonder you can’t see”, Ada soon heard him sigh as he rewrite whatever faulty code there was.

“Huh interesting, seems like someone got creative an upload a virus into your system”Jack soon found the fault and examined the code to see if there was anything to lead back to the hacker.

“odd though it seems to only have effected you subroutines when in actuality it should of detonated all of your heavy ordnance?”

Ada wasn’t very happy with that response, but before she could say anything Jack spoke up.

“I can’t seem to get rid of the thing in its entirety unfortunately, it keeps replicating itself, it doesn’t seem to want to destroy itself which explains why your still here and not in pieces”, after that the problem seem to resolve itself as Ada soon was able to see Jack standing in front of her.

“Ada report” Jack voice held concern as he watched his friend stand an exam her surroundings.

“All systems are green excluding armor and one of my subroutines. The virus seems to be updating faults in my code that allowed whomever to hack me in the first place”

“Ok than. If it gets out of hand tell me, I think I know a way to at least limit it for now. Hopefully” Jack watched Ada moved her arm and her Gatling laser.

“Sir I’m still missing a arm and a working hand joint”, Jack nodded as he looked back at the semi decimated arm, everything lower than the elbow was completely destroyed.

“Unfortunately I can’t repair it we’ll have to head back to red rocket for a new arm, which is going to be a bitch to make!” He groaned and stood up and said he’d be right back.

As Ada waited, she began running a scan of her software and once again received a alert.

[SYSTEM ALERT: Archangel Online...]

As the text rolled across her HUD, she watched as both her ammo and armor counter flicker and change ever so slightly.

Archangel? I don’t remember Jack installing this or is it the...?

[Archangel: Visual Systems, Online 100%]

[Archangel: Defensive Protocols, Online 75%]

[Archangel: Repair Subroutine, Deactivated]

[Activate?] [Yes] [No]

#Fallout 4 #Fallout #sole survivor #Enclare #Ada #Short Story #stuff i came up with while on the road #Brotherhood of Steel #Minutemen #Sole Survivor

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downwiththeficness · 4 years

Text

In the Blood-Part Five

Pairing: Brasa/Female OC

Words: ~2,800

Warnings: Blood, canon typical violence

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

She’d forgotten what the air was like here. The heat ate at her, soaking into her skin and clothes. The sun had never felt closer and she made a mental note to invest in sunscreen at her earliest opportunity. Lilah hadn’t expected to be away so long, but a month in Canada has stretched to two, then three. She’d slept almost a week straight and then spent the rest of the time working out, eating, reading, and drinking—as little human interaction as possible. And, the dreams had stopped. Her nights were once again restful and she patted herself on the back for knowing exactly what she needed to do to reset.

There was a car waiting for her at the airport, as Javier had told her there would be. She gave the driver a warm greeting and allowed him to load her luggage into the trunk. She would be driven to a hotel where she’d get her next assignment. Just like that. No easing into it, just right back into the work. It wasn’t surprising. Lilah very rarely eased into anything.

What was surprising was the hotel that the car stopped in front of. It was nice. Very nice. After years of rooms that were average to mediocre, at best, this was a big change. Lilah was immediately suspicious.

The room, or rooms (plural), were fitted with luxuries that she would have never paid for. Plush couches, stunning light fixtures, fresh flowers in vases that were edged in gold. It was lavish in a way that made her uncomfortable.

Javier sat smugly on one such couch, waving her over. He was wearing a dark blue suit, no waistcoat or tie, the white shirt open at the collar. It was probably the most dressed down that she’d ever seen him, and that, more than the opulent room, was disconcerting.

“Sit! How was your flight? Good?”

Lilah nodded in the affirmative, “Yeah, the flight was good.”

“And your vacation, it was sufficient?”

She knew that Javier had taken her extended time off with not a small bit of dissatisfaction. But, he’d let her have it when he could have threatened her contract. She was grateful.

“It was. I really needed it.”

His smile was all teeth, “Good. Now, we have business.”

Lilah listened while he outlined what he needed her to do. It was a fairly simple operation. There had been a leak, nothing serious, just a contractor who had talked too much to the wrong people. Javier wanted her to assess the situation and manage the collateral damage. He trusted her judgment. She accepted the thumb drive and agreed to meet the team in the board room of the hotel as soon as she’d cleaned up and gotten settled.

After Javier took his leave, Lilah leaned back on the couch and stared at the complex entertainment set up. She wouldn’t use it. TV, streaming or otherwise, was set aside while she worked. She spent every moment of free time either in a car or at a computer, running point. She stood and grabbed her luggage and hauled it over to the dresser, unzipping the front pocket to pull out her laptop and cell phone. Lilah set them aside and turned to look at the bed. Even though she’d just been on a three month vacation, she really wanted to sink into that mattress.

“Another hotel?”

She wasn’t ashamed to say she screamed. High pitched and ragged from her throat, the sound seemed to echo off the tastefully taupe walls. Her hands covered her mouth, hanging open in shock. She credited herself for not flinging her body across the bed to the other side of the room. The shock of seeing him after three months of silence kept her rooted to the spot.

He looked at her levelly, hands in the pockets of a pair of black slacks that were cut so well for his body that she was sure they were tailored specifically for him. Lilah returned his look, breathing hard through her nose. She’d forgotten how tall he was, forcing even her to look up at him. Her throat was dry, she couldn’t speak.

After another moment of his close regard, he moved forward, pulling his hands from his pockets and taking three long steps forward until he stood half a foot from her. Very slowly, he reached up and pulled her hands from her face. He stepped forward into her space, placing her palms on his chest. To Lilah, he felt real and solid beneath them, and just a touch too warm. She noticed that he was wearing the gloves again.

“Where have you been?”

Her eyes shot up from their hands, and she took a moment to collect herself before answering, “Canada.”

His thumbs rubbed against the outside of her wrists, a slow rhythmic motion that had her swaying just a little on her feet. She started to pull away, but his fingers tightened just a fraction in warning.

“So far away,” he murmured, almost to himself.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. His presence was making her feel outside of herself—disconnected—and yet every nerve was firing full throttle. It was as if her body had been lit up from the inside, shaking loose the malaise of her time away. She hadn’t realized that she’d closed her eyes to the feeling until one of his hands left her arm and cupped her jaw. Lilah swallowed and looked at him.

He licked his lips and she followed the movement, inhaling sharply. Coffee and caramel. She didn’t think she’d be able to associate that scent with anything but him for the rest of her life. It was burned into her memory like the feeling of his hand running along the length of her arm before it dropped and gripped her hip. Everywhere they touched was warm and tinged with static.

Lilah felt him breathe deep, his eyes closing as he leaned down, “You’re close now.”

Close was one way to put it. His hold had pulled her into his body so that his nose brushed her cheek. Her fingers curled into his shirt, nails scraping the fabric as she was pulled taut in his hands. Tentatively, far more tentatively than she would have thought him capable, he pressed his lips to hers. He held them there for several beats, as if waiting. Lilah didn’t think she was breathing. She sure as shit wasn’t thinking.

He broke away, but only to change the angle and to run his tongue over her bottom lip. Lilah would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell out of her but she was too busy being very thoroughly kissed. Long, deep kisses that were somehow too intense and not nearly enough. If she thought the scent of him was good, his taste was unbelievable. Her hands reached up into his hair to hold him to her as she gorged herself on it. Nothing could be better, and she wanted more.

With a groan, he wrapped both arms around her and hauled her up so that she was on her toes. Unprepared for the quick movement, Lilah gave a little squeak. She could feel him laugh a little into the kiss before he became otherwise occupied with mouthing along her jawline. In retaliation, Lilah carded the strands of his hair through the fingers of one hand and made a fist, pulling gently. He hissed against her skin, one hand falling to her ass and grabbing a handful. She felt him widen his stance a little, hips flexing forward so that she could feel him begin to harden against her.

Despite the fact that she really, really wanted to keep kissing him, Lilah’s brain finally kicked into gear and she pulled her hands from his hair. He made an entirely too endearing sound of displeasure as he lifted his head to look down at her. The words she wanted to say died in her throat as she gazed up at him. Mouth a little swollen from her kiss, eyes blown wide with want, the intensity of how he regarded her had her dropping down from her toes in shock. Her calves thanked her for the rest.

“Stay close,” he whispered.

Lilah blinked, “I’m right here.”

His hands flexed against her and he opened his mouth to reply, but his head whipped to the side. He stared across the room for several seconds before he looked back at her. Lilah’s brows came together in confusion and she almost voiced the question on her tongue. But, when she blinked, he was gone and she was off balance enough that she stumbled.

Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she shook her head vigorously. She could still taste him, and his scent lingered on her clothes.

“I just got here,” she growled, as if to censure the universe for throwing her back into the deep end.

She breathed deep, saying, “No. No, no, no. Get your shit, go to the board room. Do your job.”

The board room was...about as lavish as she expected. The table was ornate and covered in a quarter inch thick layer of glass to protect the wood. A protector screen was already up and running, a picture of someone she didn’t recognize on display. There were no windows and the room was dimly lit.

She entered and sat down, noting the three men in the room, none of which she recognized.

“Javier sent me.”

A man with hair so blonde it was almost white looked at her over rimless glasses. He was wearing a white button up and a striped tie. She couldn’t tell, but she thought he might also have a pocket protector.

“Lilah, right?”

She nodded.

“That guy,” he pointed at the screen, “We need to take care of—quickly, discreetly.”

Lilah looked at the picture on the screen. He was maybe eighteen and was wearing a beanie and over-sized sweatshirt. His facial hair hadn’t really filled in, but he was making a valiant effort at growing out a mustache.

“We lost a shipment because of him.”

She dropped her gaze to the source of the new voice. He was mid-thirties, black, hair cut so short that he was almost bald. He spoke with an accent that she couldn’t place.

“What kind of shipment?”

His eyes didn’t blink, “Does it matter?”

She shook her head, “Not in the least. Let’s get started.”

Afterwards, she closed down her laptop and said her goodbyes to the group. She doubted that she would ever see them again, if the past was anything to go by. Still, a plan was in place. All she had to do was get the guy to the rooftop of a building, see if he would tell her what he had said out loud, and the rest of the team would take care of it. Lilah knew what would happen from there, and she knew that it wouldn’t end well.

As she stood in the elevator, Lilah felt tiredness creep in. She’d put the ‘incident’ out of her mind while she sat in the board room, but, now that it was quiet, she had a hard time steering her thoughts elsewhere. She wasn’t asleep, and this wasn’t stress. And, she was having a hard time believing that her mind could come up with that detailed a fantasy while suffering from jet lag.

Stepping out of the elevator, she turned and headed down the hall to her room, keying in and shoving herself through the door. She dropped the key onto the side table and let her laptop fall onto one of the couch cushions. A bath. Then, bed.

Stretching, she grabbed a change of clothes from her luggage and slipped out of her shoes, padding to the bathroom. Blindly, she reached inside and turned on the lights, closing the door behind her. The first clue that something wasn’t right was the temperature. It was hot. Really, really hot. Lilah closed her eyes and tried to center herself.

Huffing, she turned and opened her eyes. Before her was a long hallway, a red light shining throughout. Voices filtered towards her. She took a long moment to debate whether or not following them was a good idea. Looking over her shoulder, Lilah found that the door was gone, replaced by the brick wall. She rolled her eyes. Forward, then.

Carefully, and as quietly as she could in her socks, she slipped down the hall, one hand out in front of her, the other tracing along the brick. The hallway opened up to a large, domed room filled with people. There was a palpable energy in the air, excitement on everyone’s faces. Lilah pressed herself against the back wall, sliding to the side.

Cutting the room into thirds were two rows of church pews. A cursory glance to the front of the room presented her with wide slab of stone about waist high. Behind it stood the staff, on it sat the cup. Her eyes widened and she felt the air go out of her in a way that left her dizzy and weak. Knees buckling, she gripped the wall and forced herself to move further forward.

As she rounded a column, Lilah caught sight of a familiar leather jacket. She hopped forward and pressed her back said column, hoping he hadn’t seen her. What was he doing in a church? What was she doing in a church, for that matter? How was he connected to the staff and cup, and the diner, and Javier?

He spoke in a halting, sharp language that stung her ears, but she couldn’t stop herself from easing around the column and looking. The crowd was absolutely silent, and she could see them moving forward eagerly. Keeping low, she moved to another column, closing the distance between them. Column by column she moved, until she was nearly parallel to him, watching the side of his face as he continued to speak.

Lilah didn’t understand a word he was saying, it didn’t sound like any language she’d ever heard, but she could read his body. He was angry, and with his anger seemed to come a heat that billowed outwards. Sweat dripped from her temple down the side of her cheek. It dropped down her jaw to her chest, running between her breasts and over her stomach. Her palms slipped on the stone.

His speech rose to a crescendo, and he pointed to the crowd. There was an audible gasp, and a voice that spoke quickly. She knew that tone—pleading. The woman was brought forward, struggling against the grip of two men. Lilah felt her chest tighten, her mind already three steps ahead and screaming at her to look away.

The woman was laid on the altar and he stood over her, talking lowly. Lilah recognized that look. Don’t kill me, it said. Please, I’ll do anything.

He was unmoved, and there was a ferocity in his expression that chilled her, despite the oppressive heat of the room. One gloved hand slid down the woman’s chest to her belly, and then in a quick, jerking movement, it was inside of her. Reaching up through the rib cage. Lilah felt her stomach turn as she watched him dig further, heard the woman’s screams.

After a moment, he pulled free, holding a snake high in the air. A roar build among the crowd and she thought she saw some of their faces distort grotesquely. He held the snake high for a few beats, then tossed it into a fire burning behind him. The woman on the altar screamed, a high, unearthly thing to Lilah’s ears.

She felt bile rise up into her throat as he reached back inside the woman. A second later, he was holding her heart in front of him. With his free hand, he picked up the cup and squeezed. Blood poured from the heart and the woman beneath shuddered before exploding into dust. Lilah’s jaw dropped, barely believing what she was seeing. It didn’t make any sense.

Leaning against the column, she watched him toss the heart into the fire before lifting the cup in a salute to the crowd.

“Oh, don’t do it,” she breathed, knowing that he would.

He drank deeply, taking down the entire contents of the cup as if it were water. Lilah swallowed, gripping her stomach as she tried not to throw up. The world tilted sideways and the knees that had been threatening her for the last several minutes final delivered on that threat. She fell to the ground.

Vomit covered the tile floor of the bathroom, Lilah pressed her face to a clean square, glad for the cool stone. She stayed there for a long time just to make sure she wouldn’t heave again. Then, she stood, wiped her face, and wpied up her mess.

Later, when she lay in bed, she thought about what she had seen. She wasn’t stressed. She wasn’t drugged—she’d not eaten or drank anything that wasn’t sealed. That left...crazy. Lilah was going crazy.

#brasa #from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #fdtd #maurice compte #In the Blood

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

Search and Rescue

Supernatural meets Law and Order, Part Three

You awoke early the next morning, and turned to face your future husband. You reached up and smoothed out his hair, then cupped his cheek with your hand. You gently ran your thumb over his lips causing them to part slightly. Raising up on one elbow, you leaned over and softly kissed his plump lips. You were about to pull away when Dean slipped his hand to the back of your head, holding you in place. You could feel his smile against your lips as he opened his eyes.

"Good morning, my love," you said.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Dean replied. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

You nodded. "Especially because you were here with me," you remarked softly. Your phone rang on the nightstand, with the Caller ID saying it was Sam. "Good morning, Sam. Yes, we're awake, even though we don't want to be," you chuckled. "Well, thank you for calling first, we appreciate it. Give me five minutes to get into the shower, then come over. See you in a few," you finished.

Considering the previous evening's activities, you needed to cover yourself in a sheet to get to your bag across the room. You rummaged for some clothes, then stepped into the bathroom. First, you brushed your teeth and gargled with some mouthwash. At that point, Dean walked in and wrapped his arms around you from behind. He nuzzled your neck, which caused goosebumps to form from the ticklish sensations caused by his stubbled cheeks.

"And just what do you think you're doing in here?" you giggled.

"I need to shower too, you know. This way we can save water," Dean winked mischievously.

"Wow, so environmentally conscious," you smirked. You started the shower and adjusted it to the right temperature. "Coming in, my love?" you asked.

Dean didn't hesitate to step in and pull the curtain closed behind him. "We don't have much time, Sam will be here any minute. Now, let's get ourselves clean, but please to hang onto those dirty thoughts of yours for later, sweetheart," he said, reaching for the shampoo.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were getting dressed when Dean called out to tell you that he and Sam were going out to get something for breakfast. About ten minutes after they left, you walked out of the bathroom and stuffed your dirty clothes into your suitcase. A knock on your door put you immediately on alert and you reached behind you for your gun. You looked through the peephole and noticed it was the man from the park last night.

With your hand on your weapon, you cautiously opened the door, the chain still in place. "Can I help you?" you asked.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm staying just a few doors down, and I saw your car here. My name is Thomas, and we met in the park last night, remember? I had my dog, Sarge with me. Well, Sarge ran off again, and I need your help to find him. Please," he implored.

"I really wish I could, but I'm waiting for my fiancé and his brother to come back. When they get here, maybe we could all go look for Sarge," you suggested, your senses on high alert.

"You're here alone? Well, isn't that too bad. For you," Thomas replied.

Without warning, Thomas had broken down the door, which knocked you to the floor. You recovered quickly and pointed your weapon at him. Two Siberian Huskies with piercing blue eyes bounded into the room. One lunged and as he bit your wrist, you heard it snap, making you drop your weapon. The other Husky kept you at bay, growling with hair standing on end.

You cried out in pain, which turned to panic as you saw the Huskies transform before your eyes into two men. They had blond hair, the same ice blue eyes, and their stocky but well-muscled frame made you unsure if you'd make it past them. You decided to try and talk your way out. "What do you want with me?" you demanded.

"Meet Ivan and Sergei, my bodyguards," he said gesturing to the men who were so recently Huskies. "Someone has some unfinished business with you. That's all I'm at liberty to say at the moment," Thomas answered. "You can come along quietly, or we can use more....persuasive methods," he grinned evilly.

At that moment, Sarge sauntered into the room and proceeded to transform into his human counterpart. "No," you whispered. "I already killed you, for kidnapping that family two years ago and trying to create more like you," you retorted.

"That was my twin brother, Klaus, that you killed. My name is Karl, and I'm only here to return the favor, by killing everyone you care about most. Then, when I've had my fun, I'll kill you. Simple as that," Karl explained.

"You realize that if you kidnap me, it won't go unnoticed. They WILL come looking for me and will end you in the process," you spat.

"I'm actually COUNTING ON IT!" Karl thundered. "You hunters think you can just go around killing things without consequence! Get her up and let's get out of here," Karl ordered.

Ivan grabbed your right arm and helped you to your feet. You took the opportunity to deliver a blow to his midsection, which doubled him over. You brought your knee up quickly, and you heard a satisfying crack as you knew you'd connected with his nose.

Sergei reached behind you and placed a cloth over your face. The fumes from the cloth had a sweet smell, and you knew it was chloroform. You felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness, until you could no longer fight the darkness.

"Now look what she made me do. Take her outside to the van and secure her hands and feet. We have to get out of here and head to the rendezvous point before her friends get back. Come, Thomas. We have work to do," Karl commanded.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean called your cell phone to let you know that he and Sam were on their way back. He got concerned when you didn't answer, because that was unusual for you. He stepped a little harder on the accelerator, not wanting to waste any time getting back to the motel. "Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Kenzie's phone went straight to voicemail, which is not like her," Dean replied grimly.

"Maybe she's in the bathroom and doesn't have her phone on her," Sam suggested.

"No, Sam, somethin's not right. Kenzie and I were talking last night. We both got the feeling that her encounter with the dog last night was not a random meeting. Could be our skinwalker making contact, but why would they choose her? I don't under--" Dean trailed off as they took in the scene in your motel room.

Dean was out of the Impala as soon as he removed the key from the ignition. The door had been busted through and your weapon was on the floor next to the foot of the bed. Then Dean noticed a small pool of something on the carpet. He knelt down, swiped his fingers in the sticky substance and they came back red. "Blood...Oh my god, what happened to you, Kenzie?" he whispered, looking at the ceiling.

Sam came rushing through the door and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "Dean?" he said, concern for his brother etched on his face.

"Some-someone took her, Sam. They took my sweet Kenzie. That skinwalker tracked her here, and they took her. What the hell is going on here?" Dean growled, his voice getting louder each time.

Dean's phone rang, with the Caller ID showing it was you calling. "Kenzie?!? Baby, are you okay? Where are you?" he said.

"Mr. Winchester, I presume. So nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Karl, and your girl is my guest for the time being. She's unharmed, for the most part. How long she stays that way is really up to you," Karl drawled.

"Let me talk to her. I need to know she's okay," Dean demanded.

"Very well," Karl retorted. He held the phone up to your ear, and you couldn't help the tears that escaped.

"Dean?" you said in a shaky voice. His heart broke at hearing your voice so obviously frightened.

"I'm here, baby, and we're going to get you out of there. I love you, never forget that," Dean replied, trying to hold back his tears.

"I love you too, forever and always," your voice thick with emotion, fighting to hold back your own tears.

"All right, that's enough," Karl snapped. "I'm going to text you an address. Meet me there in two hours, or pick up her body," he snarled and disconnected the call.

"Dammit!!" Dean shouted. He sat on the side edge of the bed, slumped in defeat. "Sammy....I don't know what to do, how to get her out of there without her getting hurt," he said in a small voice. "I can't lose her, Sam. I just can't."

Sam went over to sit next to his brother and put an arm around him. "I know, Dean. Let's head over to the precinct and let them know what's going on. You know everyone we met over there is going to be extra motivated to help us rescue Kenzie," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go," Dean said as he grabbed your bags and put them in the Impala with his bag.

"We'd probably better call and tell them we're coming over. Otherwise, they may not let us in," Sam remarked. "I'll do that, you focus on driving," he said. A ping sounded from Dean's phone to let him know that the text message had come through from Karl with the address.

On the way to the precinct, Sam was able to reach Lt. VanBuren to let her know what had happened. She was obviously concerned for your safety. She promised that she, Briscoe and Logan would do everything they could to get you back safe. After she hung up the phone from Sam, she motioned for Briscoe and Logan to join her in her office.

"What's up, LT?" Logan asked.

"Come in, you two. Close the door behind you, Lennie," she requested. After Lennie did as he was asked and took an empty seat, Lt. VanBuren took a deep breath. "I just heard from Sam Winchester. He said that Mackenzie Reed was kidnapped this morning from her motel room," she explained.

"WHAT? How in the hell did this happen?" Logan thundered.

"Take it easy, Mike," she replied. When she looked up, she saw the Winchesters making their way over to her office. She motioned for them to come in, and they squeezed into the room with grim looks on their faces.

"Why don't you guys tell us what happened?" Lt. VanBuren prompted.

Sam looked at Dean, who could only look at the floor in defeat. Sam cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, Dean and I went out to get some breakfast while Kenzie finished taking her shower and getting ready. When we got back, the motel door had been busted open, and Kenzie's weapon was on the floor next to the bed. And, there was a small pool of blood on the carpet," Sam finished.

"Was it hers? Was it Kenzie's blood?" Logan asked tightly.

"We don't know. Looks like there was a struggle, so we strongly suspect that Kenzie didn't go quietly," Sam replied. Everyone nodded in agreement, even Briscoe, who had only known you for a few days.

Dean finally spoke up. "While we were trying to figure out what happened, a call came in from Kenzie's phone. A man named Karl has her, and he said she was safe for the moment. I think he's somehow connected to the incident in the park last night, where the dog knocked Kenzie over. She and I talked about it last night after it happened. Sam and I suspect that Karl might be our skinwalker," Dean finished.

"And you didn't think that was valuable knowledge to share with the rest of the class?" Logan retorted. "Geez, Winchester, is this really how you guys solve cases? Withhold information till the last possible minute or until someone gets hurt?" Logan snarled.

"We had no hard evidence to act on, just gut feelings," Dean defended.

"Still, you should've said something. Maybe if you had, we wouldn't be in the mess we're in right now. And maybe Kenzie would be here with us trying to come up with a plan!" Logan shouted.

"You think I wanted this to happen? Are you saying I was being careless with Kenzie's life, because you'd better not. There is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for her. She is my love, she is my life and now she's my fiancée, as of last night. We have both put our lives on the line for each other countless times, almost dying for each other in the process. Do not even THINK about questioning the way I do what I do or my devotion to Kenzie," Dean replied angrily.

"All right, you two, that's enough. This is getting us nowhere," Lt. VanBuren admonished. Turning to Dean, she asked, "Is there anything else Karl said on the phone that may help us?"

"He texted me the address where he's holding her, and said we have two hours. Will you help us? Please," Dean begged, his voice beginning to waver.

"What do you need from us?" Lt. VanBuren asked.

Dean turned to Sam, who took out his laptop. "Your WiFi password?" Sam said with a small smile.

"Briscoe, Logan? Take young Mr. Winchester out and get him set up so he can do whatever voodoo he needs to do on his laptop. Dean? Can I please have a word with you?" Lt. VanBuren finished.

Lennie and Mike filed out of the office, with Sam following behind. The lieutenant turned to Dean. "So, you and Kenzie getting married, huh?" she asked with a smile.

Dean smiled a little for the first time since he discovered you had been taken. "Yeah, I asked her last night. I bought the ring from a little shop in Lawrence, and brought it to New York with me. She cried when I gave it to her, but at least she said yes," he finished.

"Oh, believe me, that girl wouldn't have turned you down, Dean. We became good friends when she used to work for us, and I had a talk with her when she first got here. Her eyes sparkled the whole time she was talking about you, I saw it. She loves you as much as you love her. Don't worry, we've got the best guys working on this. We'll bring her back," she promised.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You awoke to find your wrists and ankles tied to a chair in an abandoned factory. Your left wrist felt broken and had dried blood on it from Sergei's bite marks. You also had a massive headache and needed some water to get rid of the feeling of cottonballs in your mouth. "Hello?" you called. "Is anyone there? I could really use some water, please," you requested.

"Well, well, nice to see you awake, Ms. Reed. You were out for quite some time. We were wondering if Sergei had used too much chloroform on you," Karl drawled.

"Where am I? What do you want with me?" you demanded.

Karl stormed over to your chair and didn't stop until he was nearly nose-to-nose with you. "I'LL ask the questions around here!" he thundered. "Answer them, and I'll let you go. No harm, no foul. Decline to answer them and there will be consequences," he threatened.

"You won't let me go even if I answer your questions. I've been at this game long enough to know that. You can ask me anything, but I'm not going to give up any information," you replied.

Your defiance was met with a slap across both cheeks. "Foolish woman. Look what you made me do. I really hoped we could be civilized about this," he chided.

"Civilized? You call me being tied to a chair 'civilized'?" you retorted, only to be met with a punch to your mouth and to your cheek. Your lip was split, as you found when you licked it and tasted blood. You could feel a bruise forming near your left eye.

"Let's think back a couple of years. My brother Klaus and I had a perfect plan to increase our ranks, only to have you kill him. I loved my brother, and you took him from me. Now, I'm going to take away from you those whom you hold dear," Karl remarked.

"Your brother had to be stopped, and so do you," you snarled. Karl walked over to a table and retrieved a dagger and slashed at each arm. Gashes opened and blood dripped down your arms and onto the floor.

"How many hunters are there in your organization?" Karl demanded. "What are their locations, and how many in each location?"

You laughed at his assumption that your fellow hunters were at all organized into any kind of union or tied to any reporting system. "I already said I wasn't going to tell you anything, so you're WASTING YOUR TIME!" you shouted.

Karl had raised the knife as if to cut you again, when Thomas broke in. "They're here, Karl." He lowered the knife and in your ear, he murmured, "We're not through with you yet."

You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding. You wondered who "they" were, and hoped it was more than just Sam and Dean coming to your rescue. Not that they couldn't handle it, but it didn't hurt to have backup. Your head dropped to your chest, as you started to drift in and out of consciousness from fatigue and the blood loss in your arm.

Shots rang out, and your head jerked up wondering if it was Karl, his goons or worse yet, a member of the cavalry. You heard signs of a struggle, punches thrown and bodies hitting the floor. A couple more shots heard in quick succession, silence, then you succumbed to the darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Dean! She's over here!" Sam shouted.

Dean ran around the corner and saw you in the chair, your head lolled to one side. He rushed over to your chair and carefully tried to get you to wake up. "Kenzie baby, open your eyes. It's me, Dean. Come on sweetheart, please wake up," he pleaded. He swallowed the tears back that threatened to break loose. "All right, let's get her untied so we can get her to the hospital," Dean ordered.

He carried you up the stairs and out to the Impala. Dean carefully laid you across the back seat, then climbed in beside you. He wrapped his arm around you and rested your head on his chest. He rocked you back and forth, whispering soothing words into your ear.

With the police escort from Briscoe and Logan, Sam managed to avoid rush hour traffic and make it to the hospital in record time. He pulled up to the ER entrance, and opened the door for Dean. Once he got out of the back seat, he carefully eased you out of the car and back into his arms. "Help! We need some help here! Got a seriously injured woman and she's unconscious!" Dean shouted.

Nurses sprang into action, one of them taking you from Dean's arms and placing you onto an available stretcher. Dean watched as they wheeled you away to assess your condition. He stumbled into the waiting room to where his brother was standing. "Sam....I don't know what I'm gonna do if...." he trailed off.

"Dean, you know Kenzie's a fighter. She's not going to give up, not now, not ever," Sam replied. Then he put his arm around Dean and brought him in for a brotherly embrace.

"I know, Sam, I know. But....you saw what that bastard did to her....I'm just glad we took care of things. Our way," Dean said grimly.

Briscoe, Logan and Lt. VanBuren met Sam and Dean in the waiting room. "They've taken her in for treatment, that's all we know so far," Sam explained.

"The good news is, Karl and his associates are no longer a threat to the people of New York City," Dean declared. "Now we just have to wait for news on Kenzie," he replied.

Lt. VanBuren put a hand on Dean's upper arm. "Listen, Dean. From what I know of her, Kenzie's going to pull through this. That girl is tough as nails, and I know you know that," she said.

"I do. Thank you, Lieutenant," Dean put his arm around her shoulders.

Logan walked over to Dean after the lieutenant found an empty chair. "Listen, Winchester. I'm sorry about earlier. I care about Kenzie a lot, and I'll always love her. But, I can see you're the one she truly loves. All I want is for her to be happy, and she has that with you. I wish you only the best," Logan said as he extended his hand.

Dean took his hand and shook it. "Thank you, Detective. Once you get to know Kenzie, she's hard to forget. It means a lot to have your blessing," Dean responded.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dean Winchester?" a nurse stated.

"That's me. Is this about Mackenzie Reed?" he asked.

"Yes, will you please follow me?" the nurse asked.

Dean caught his brother's attention, and Sam excused himself to follow Dean. The detectives and their lieutenant took their leave, but asked the boys to keep them posted on your condition.

Sam and Dean took the elevator up to the third floor. "Ms. Reed has been admitted for observation at least overnight for the treatment of her injuries. She's in Room 361, if you want to go in," the nurse explained.

Nothing could have prepared the boys for the sight that greeted them when they walked in the door. You were connected to multiple machines that monitored various systems. One machine to help you breathe, one to take your blood pressure and yet another to measure your oxygen level. The gashes on your arm had fresh stitches, but were covered in gauze at the moment to avoid infection.

Dean's hand covered his mouth and unshed tears shimmered in his eyes. "Oh, Kenzie," he whispered. Sam grabbed a chair and set it up on the right side of your bed. Dean pulled up a chair next to the left side of your bed and carefully took your hand in his. He kissed the back of your hand, and his thumb traced circles on it as he tried to coax you to wake up. "Kenzie, baby, I need you to wake up. I'm so sorry this happened to you, my love. I'd give anything to trade places with you. Please, sweetheart. I need to see those gorgeous hazel eyes of yours," he pleaded.

At that moment, the doctor came into the room, your chart in his hand. "Mr. Winchester, I presume? My name is Dr. Collins, I'm on the team treating your fiancée," Dean stood and shook his hand. "Mackenzie has multiple contusions on her face, and a laceration on her bottom lip. We're trying to reduce the swelling on her left eye so it will be able to open again. She lost quite a bit of blood from the lacerations on her arms, which took 17 stitches each. Right now, they're covered in gauze to prevent infection. As bad as that all sounds, though, she's going to be fine," Dr. Collins explained.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doc, but when will she wake up?" he asked.

"Uncertain, but it should be sometime in the next few hours. The good news is, all of her blood work came back with no trace of any toxins. As is routine with women of childbearing age, we also ran a pregnancy test. It came back positive, so we did an ultrasound. Your fiancée is about two and half months along in her pregnancy. Congratulations," Dr. Collins finished and looked at his watch. "If you have any more questions for me, please let me know. I'm sorry, but I'm due on rounds. Excuse me," he stated.

Sam and Dean looked at each other in amazement. "A baby? Kenzie's pregnant," Dean remarked softly. A mile-wide grin broke out over Dean's face. "I'm gonna be a father, Sam," he said as he captured his brother in an enthusiastic hug.

A little while later, Sam informed his brother that he was going in search of the cafeteria. Dean remained at your bedside and kissed your forehead. He sat down in the chair again and clasped your hand in his. "I love you so much, Kenzie. You don't know it yet, but you've made me the happiest man on this earth. Again," Dean murmured.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You heard Dean's voice telling you how much he loved you. He had your hand in his warm one, and he kissed the back of your hand every so often. You wanted to see his face again, so your eyelids fluttered open for a few seconds. The sudden brightness caused you to blink several times to try and clear your vision. "Dean?" you said through your oxygen mask.

"Kenzie?!? Oh baby, you're awake!" he exclaimed. "I've missed you so much, sweetheart," Dean remarked, his eyes shimmering with tears. Sam left the room in search of your doctor.

Dean briefly moved your oxygen mask out of the way. "Missed you too, my love," you croaked. He handed you a cup of water to help with your scratchy throat. You reached up to cradle his cheek with your right hand. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. "Is everybody okay?" you asked.

"Everybody's fine, Kenzie. No injuries, except you of course," Dean replied softly. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'll be all right, Dean. I'm just so glad to see you again," you said as your voice broke.

"By the way, the doctor ran a blood test on you. Turns out, in less than seven months, you're gonna be a momma, Kenzie," Dean answered, his eyes shining with love.

"I'm....pregnant?" you whispered. "I haven't been feeling any symptoms. I swear I had no idea, Dean. Are you okay with that?" you asked hesitantly.

"Are you kidding?? Sweetheart, I am more than okay with it. I am the luckiest man on the planet," he grinned, intertwining your fingers with his. "First, I get to make you my wife, then you get to make me a father. I couldn't ask for anything more, Kenzie my love," Dean replied.

Dean stood up and lowered the guardrail. His hand gingerly brushed your cheek then slid behind you to bring you up to a sitting position. "Hi," he said just before his lips tenderly kissed yours. He touched his forehead to yours. "I love you, Kenzie," he murmured against your cheek.

"I love you, Dean. I can't wait to be your wife and to be a momma to our little one," you said, rubbing your hand on your stomach. You didn't have a noticeable baby bump yet, but you knew it would only be a matter of time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a few days in the hospital, you finally were released. The swelling around your left eye had significantly improved, and the cuts on your arms were healing well. Before you left town, you asked Dean to stop by the 27th precinct to say goodbye to Briscoe, Logan and Lt. VanBuren. You also wanted to share your blood test results from when you were in the hospital.

You, Sam and Dean walked into the squad room of the Detectives Division of the 2-7. Logan saw you first, and grinned as he came over to give you a hug. Briscoe also offered his wishes for a speedy recovery as he put his arm around your shoulders for a side hug. Sam and Dean exchanged handshakes with Briscoe and Logan. Congratulations on the engagement were also offered.

Lt. VanBuren finished her phone call, then opened her office door. "Mackenzie Reed, in my squad room, as I live and breathe. Come over here, girl, and give me a hug," she grinned. You met each other halfway and threw your arms around each other. "Hey, LT. It's good to see you. Thanks for rescuing me," you remarked. "By the way....I'm two and a half months pregnant," you whispered in her ear.

She immediately pulled back in surprise, a huge smile on her face. "Congratulations, honey," she whispered in your ear. "You're going to make one hell of a momma, Kenzie," LT remarked.

At her announcement, Logan's eyes went directly to yours, then back to Dean. "You guys are having a baby?" he asked. You and Dean both nodded, then he stuck out his hand for Dean to shake, which he did. Logan then walked over to you and carefully wrapped his arms around you. "Congratulations, Kenz. I mean it, on the wedding, on the baby, all of it," Logan replied.

"Thank you, Mike. That means a lot to me, that we have your support. I hope you will be able to join us at the wedding," you added.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Logan responded.

After celebrating with Briscoe, Logan and VanBuren at a nearby restaurant for a quick lunch, it was time to start the long trip home to Kansas. Parts of you were still not fully healed yet, and you got tired easily. Had that not been the case, you might have stuck around a little longer to do some sightseeing. But, you wanted to go home, and you had full command of the back seat, in case you wanted to rest.

You kept watching out the back window until you could no longer see the friends you were leaving behind. You leaned your elbows on the front seat, resting your chin on your arms. Your placed your hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. He reached up and took your hand in his to bring it to his lips. "Let's go home, boys," you said before settling in for the long trip.

#law and order #dean x ofc #dean winchester #spn crossover #spn imagines

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mrs-han · 4 years

Text

Water Runs Dry - Part One

~~~

For my beautiful @jafndaegur ♥️♥️♥️

This is totally different from what I had originally planned, but!! I really hope you like it!!

Happy Belated Birthday, my darling!!

~~~

“Aahh!!!!”

Sarah’s shriek resounded through the penthouse. A sound that would have otherwise deafened you, you were far too preoccupied with him, the man gripping your arm with one hand and steading your chin with the other.

“Wh - what, what are you...!!” Sarah stammered her voice but a faraway mirage.

You pulled away enough to create some space between your body and his. “... Ju - Jumin...?!”

“Shh...” His placid hush followed by a more established squeeze on your chin silenced you... captivated you. “You’re blushing.”

“... We - well, of course, I’m blushing, y - you’re k-k - kissing me...”

“You’d better close your eyes,” Jumin hummed, his lips barely brushing against yours. “Focus on your senses.”

“Jumin...”

Your emotions began to pound as his lips reconnected with yours. A small buzz - a voltaic shock caused your head to jerk back, but he refused to release you. In that very moment, you two were the only ones who existed. But as he opened his eyes and looked toward Sarah, a sinking sensation in your stomach took hold.

“Ugh... I’m going to tell Ms. Choi!” Sarah stamped her foot and drew her phone from her purse.

“Yes,” Jumin sighed. “Having an audience for our first kiss takes off the tension.” His eyes fell back over you and a slow, steady smirk ran over his lips. He spoke gingerly to you, completely different from the curt tone he had given Sarah. “Your lips are so warm and soft. And... I think I smell a bit of the pancake?” He beamed. “You’re cute, MC.”

“How...! I’ve never been so insulted!” Sarah roared, her voice moving further away from where you and Jumin stood.

“God... finally she’s leaving,” Jumin huffed, his hold on you relaxing.

The door to the penthouse slammed roughly, making you jolt in place. Jumin caressed your arm and moved his thumb over your cheek, stroking delicately... but you felt no comfort. No sense of solace. The warmth and vibrancy of the kiss had dissipated, leaving you with more questions than whimsical ideas of what the future held for you and Han Jumin.

He could sense the tension emitting from you. A small blush crept over his cheekbones as he said, “I’ve wanted to do that from the first moment I saw you.” He took steps toward you - bold and confident about what he had done.

But the pounding sensation in your heart faded... and once curled fingers and toes from the sheer passion of the kiss unfurled as a heat of a different kind overcame your senses. Your cheeks and ears burned with embarrassment, even anger. Your brows furrowed and your arms wrapped firmly around your midsection.

Jumin stopped.

“What... what was that all about?”

Confusion flashed through his expressions, which upset you further.

“How disconnected are you...?” You rasped, barely able to get your words out.

Jumin’s eyes widened. “MC?”

“You really don’t see what you did?” Your voice crackled back to life, a flash of rage rising to the surface and flowing from your tongue. “You kissed me just to get rid of her.”

He blinked. “MC... I’m sorry if that was so sudden. I wanted you to be comfortable here... perhaps I’ve bothered you.”

“Bothered me,” you whispered, running your hands through your hair. “That wasn’t real, was it?”

“What... of course it was,” Jumin frowned. “The kiss was very real. As I said, I’ve wanted to do that from the first moment I saw you -”

“You used me to get her out of here,” you blurted, pointing towards the door. “And it worked. She’s gone. But I’m still here dealing with the repercussions of your... your agenda!”

Jumin’s gaze dimmed. His lips formed a grim, straight line. “MC, I didn’t mean to cause you any pain. Can you believe that, at least?”

Your body began to tremble. “Your cat is missing, by the way. Was kissing me a way for you to distract yourself from that too?”

“This has nothing to do with that,” Jumin replied, his voice louder and more imposing. “My emotions have caused me to act in a way I normally wouldn’t. I was impetuous and thoughtless, this I will admit. I should have been more considerate of your emotions. But MC, my feelings for you are real, solid and sincere. I realize that the longer Elizabeth the Third is away that you are indeed different from not only her but the other women I’ve met in my life -”

“Oh my god,” you laughed bitterly. “So now you’re comparing me to your cat.”

“Listen to me,” Jumin’s voice dropped and his hands immediately went to fiddling with his sleeves. “You aren’t listening to me.”

“I think I hear what you’re saying loud and clear,” you spat sharply.

“You aren’t,” He whispered, vulnerability dripping from his speech. “I’ve never known what it truly felt like to have that one person. That one special person who can truly understand me... who I can touch and kiss and understand what I’m saying. Seeing you right in front of my eyes... I feel like I’ve finally gotten what I’ve always wanted.”

His eyes - those alluring orbs that resembled the foams of the ocean but plunged you in just as deep as the waters themselves - bore into yours.

“I want you,” Jumin hummed, confident enough to take a step toward you. “And I want you to want me too.”

Your hands fell to your side. “I admit... your words are very pretty...”

“They’re honest. They’re real,” he said as he grabbed your hand and pressed your knuckles against his lips. “I mean everything that I say. Answer me now. Do you believe I intentionally meant to cause you any pain?

“No,” You began. “But I do think you had a plan... one that didn’t dare to consider what I might think or what I might do... and you pushed through in fulfilling it.”

“MC -”

“That was my first kiss.” A pained smile flashed over your lips. “Maybe it was wrong of me to fantasize it to begin with but... never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it being done with a hidden motive attached to it.”

“MC, please -”

You pulled your hand away. “I need to get out of here... ah... right, I didn’t bring anything.”

“What, wait. No.” His wing-tipped shoes struck the floors frantically as he rushed to block the door. “MC, don’t leave.”

“Please move, Jumin.”

“Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”

“Jumin.”

“Please.”

A brisk shove of your shoulder caused him to step off to the side. He tried to reach out for you, an action taken in vain as you quickly skirted away from him and to the door.

“MC!” Jumin shouted.

“Ma’am?” The chief bodyguard called after you. “Ma’am, where are you going -”

“Stop her, now!” Jumin boomed.

You dashed to the staircase, yanking your phone from your back pocket. If anyone could help you... or at least give you some sense of comfort... it was Zen.

You urgently punched his image through the RFA chatroom.

“MC!!” Jumin hollered, his voice ringing through the stairwell.

“Leave me alone!!” You barked back, nearly stumbling over yourself.

“MC? MC, are you there?”

“Zen?” You gasped.

“Where are you? Did something happen?”

“Can you pick me up?” You sniffed, wiping at your nose. “It’s urgent.”

“I’m on my way.” Frantic rustling from his end only heightened your sense of awareness. “Are you still at Jumin’s penthouse?!”

“I am,” your voice trembled. “Please hurry.”

“I’ll be right there. Hold on, okay?”

You silently thanked him for his swiftness. He was the first to ask questions, and no doubt he would have some. But in urgent matters... especially matters that involved your safety... he was fast on his feet.

You looked back, just to make sure Jumin wasn’t following you. As you did, you yelped as another stumble caused your ankle to roll over the weight of your body. You landed on your hands and knees, fully aware of the sprain on both your ankle and maybe even a wrist.

“Shit,” you hissed, grabbing onto the railing and pulling yourself up. The lobby wasn’t far, and that mentality gave you the strength to limp down another long flight of stairs.

Music mixed with heavy perfume welcomed you as soon as you opened the door to the foyer of the building. Excited chatter as shoppers hustled and bustled through the apparel outlet C&R had graciously bestowed gave you ample opportunity to sneak through the entrance undetected by the bodyguards who knew your face.

A motorcycle engine revved furiously, startling you as you limped outside. You could recognize him immediately despite your only evidence of his existence from his chatroom selfies; his silver ponytail whipping smoothly through the wind, his lean yet athletic physique...

“MC?!” Zen panted, haphazardly jumping off his bike, snatching his helmet from his head and nearly sprinting over to you. “MC, are you... why are you limping?”

And his eyes... crimson and full. Full of worry, passionate for you cause, and a friendliness that couldn’t be contested.

“I’ll explain everything later,” you tried to smile while wiping the tears coursing down your eyes. “For now, can we go?”

“I’ve got you,” Zen reassured, curling his arm under your legs and lifting you into a bridal-position. “You can lean on me if you need to, don’t be afraid to rest your head on my back okay?”

“Thank you Zen,” you whimpered.

He placed you on the passenger seat and secured his helmet over your head. “Okay,” he assured calmly, settling into the seat in front of you.

“Wait, Zen, your helmet -”

“Ah-ah. You expect me to let a lady ride without any protection?” He smiled. “Trust me. I’ll get you away from here safe and sound.”

“Thank... thank you,” you sighed, hesitantly hugging his waist. “Thank you so much... and it’s nice to meet you by the way, I’m MC...”

A soft chortle escaped him. “Nice to finally meet you, MC. I’m ZEN, the KNIGHT who has NOBLY COME TO YOUR RESCUE!”

The theatrics in his tone allowed you to burst out laughing... for a short while. Jumin burst through the doors of the building, his bodyguards in tow.

“MC!!” Jumin’s voice thundered.

“We’re going!!” Zen whooped, revving his engine and speeding ahead.

“Wah!!” You yelped, your head crashing against Zen’s back.

“Hang on!!” Zen shouted, weaving through lanes of traffic.

“Zen, oh my god!!” You gasped, adrenaline spiking through your body.

“By the way!!” Zen turned his head slightly. “Do you know where Rika’s apartment is?!”

“No!!” You answered.

Silence.

“We- well!! ... Uhhh!!” Zen stammered. “If...!! If it’s okay with you, you can stay with me until we figure something out!!”

“And if we don’t?!”

“We... well!! We can always talk to Seven!! Besides!! Any place is better than Jumin’s, right?!”

A settled feeling coursed throughout as you silently agreed.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #hyun ryu #So I know I said I was gonna give you two seperate stories #But imma mesh them owo #Talking to you ALWAYS gives me inspiration!!#Happy Belated Birthday my baby boo!! ♥️♥️♥️#Also like #I’m still learning how to write Zen’s character so I’m sorry if some parts are like #EH?

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