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ragingpancake · 3 years

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How To Woo Your Scientist In 100 Cookies or Less

Rodney has a secret admirer. Prompt fic. See end of fic for prompt. ~1800 words.

The first time it appears is the morning after the ridiculous mission to M5-X847 (more accurately described as ‘Planet of the Bat-Shit Crazy Natives and Their Ridiculous Trading Ceremonies’ in the privacy of Rodney’s own mind and in the not-so-nearly private mess hall whenever anyone else brings it up). It’s left sitting on his desk by his absolute favorite computer on a folded up napkin from the mess hall, taunting him.

He’s still staring at it as if it holds the secrets to recharging a ZPM, the cure for male pattern baldness and the name of the man Carly Simon wrote a song about when John ambles in for his obligatory weekly hour of light switch duty.

“Ooh, cookie,” he says. Rodney smacks his hand away with a squawk of indignation.

“Mine!”

“Well, are you gonna eat it or just stare at it?”

Rodney settles for the latter while John unfairly makes Atlantis and all of her Ancient Tech roll over for him like the complete slut she is. Besides, he argues silently, it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to kill him with baked goods. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Fifty nine minutes and fifty eight seconds later, John plucks the cookie off of the napkin and pops it into his mouth, crunching loudly and spewing crumbs everywhere.

“What did you do that for?” Rodney bellows.

“Just makin’ sure it was safe and citrus free,” John says with a toothy grin. “Next time, you’ll know. Cya later buddy,” he says and ambles back out of the room without a care in the world.

“Next time? How do you know there will be a next time?” Rodney yells after him. “How do you know?”

—-

There is, oddly enough, a ‘next time’. The next morning when Rodney stumbles into his lab, bleary eyed after a late night watching terrible movies and eating horrifyingly greasy food (thank you, Daedalus) with John, there’s another cookie sitting innocently on his desk, silently begging to be eaten. He’s still worried about the possibility of an assassination attempt but he rationalizes that no one is really going to use precious chocolate chips just to murder him so he lifts it up, sniffs it and then shoves it greedily into his mouth.

Less than hour later, he’s still alive and wishing he had another.

—-

By the fifth cookie, Rodney stops checking for the possibility of citrus-laced baked goods. Clearly, someone finally appreciates his genius and has decided the best way to thank him is to ply him with delicious sweet treats.

For once, Rodney doesn’t complain.

——

“Another one?” John asks, eying the 30th cookie longingly. “How many is that now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve lost count,” Rodney lies.

John just snorts in response.

——

“This is getting out of hand,” Kavanagh gripes. “How come we’re not allowed to eat around the computers, but he never says anything about that damn cookie appearing every morning? Why doesn’t Sh—”

Radek steps on Kavanagh’s foot and Miko’s elbow catches him in the side. Kavanagh squeaks and then miraculously falls silent.

Rodney eyes his scientists suspiciously “Why doesn’t who do what?”

“Nothing,” Radek says. “Is nothing but idiotic mumblings of a jealous man.”

“Jealous. Yeah, right,” Kavanagh snorts under his breath.

Rodney is still not convinced and he spends the rest of the day trying to bully Kavanagh into telling him exactly what’s going on.

Kavanagh is gleeful at the idea of knowing something that Rodney doesn’t.

—

“Hey Rodney?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you ever wonder who’s sending you cookies?”

Rodney eats the last bite of his cookie and glances over at John. “Not really, no. Don’t really care either, as long as they keep coming.”

“Oh.”

John goes back to touching uncatalogued Ancient tech while Rodney practically has oral sex with the left-over chocolate on his fingers. Rodney’s so caught up in his little delicious world that he doesn’t even notice when the device starts glowing in an ominous way.

“Uh… Rodney.”

Three seconds later, John’s unconscious on the floor and Rodney’s yelling into his headset for a medical team.

——

The next day, there is no cookie.

——

By the third cookieless day, Rodney decides that maybe Atlantis was the secret Cookie Fairy, because whoever it was is clearly pissed off that he almost killed John.

——

“I brought you something,” Rodney announces as soon as he palms the door to John’s room open. It’s the only room, other than his own that he’s ever been able to get into without resorting to screwing around with the crystals. He’s never questioned it, but now he’s grateful that John never had the urge to lock him out.

“Been stockpiling the goods from your Cookie Fairy?” John asks grumpily. Rodney cuts him slack because he knows he still has a killer headache from that damn piece of Ancient Tech.

“No,” Rodney says. “I uh, actually made these for you, and by ‘made these for you’, I really mean I bribed the kitchen staff with an extra ten minutes of hot water in the mornings but um, yeah. I got them. For you.”

John gives him an odd look and Rodney wonders if maybe there’s brain damage that Keller missed on the scans. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thinks bitterly.

“It’s just… you seemed to always be hanging around when I had my cookie and I uh… know that I wasn’t exactly willing to share with you even though I know chocolate chip is your favorite. But that’s not the point. The point… the point is… I screwed up that day. I should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and I wasn’t and I’m sorry and, and, and will you just say something and stop looking at me like that?”

John gives him a slight smile. “Thanks Rodney. You wanna watch a movie?”

For the first time since the cookies stopped coming, Rodney feels like he can breathe again.

——

The next morning, there’s still no cookie, though Rodney really didn’t expect there to be. He doesn’t even really care, because while he acquired the cookies for John the previous evening, he’s the one who ate almost the whole damn plate and if he never sees another chocolate chip cookie again, it’ll be too damn soon.

He has a lot of catching up to do because ever since John got hurt on his watch, he hasn’t exactly been able to concentrate on his work and damn if it hasn’t piled up already.

He powers up his computer and scowls at the stack of papers littering his workspace. Grabbing a handful, he flips through them and then discards them like the complete and utter trash they are. Kavanagh never could finish up the simplest of equations.

He’s just about to log in to the network with the corner of a piece of paper sticking from under his keyboard catches his eye. He frowns and pulls it out. The handwriting is vaguely familiar.

Meet me at the East Pier. 1800 hours. -Cookie Fairy

Rodney doesn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. He just hopes that whoever the Cookie Fairy is, they’ve forgiven him as easily as John has.

——

The doors to the East Pier slide open with ease and Rodney can’t stop the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. The sun is already beginning to set in the Lantean sky, casting a gentle glow over the calm water. Leaning against the railing, there’s a familiar set of slouched shoulders and a crop of dark, messy hair.

“John?”

He turns and gives Rodney a nervous grin. “Hey buddy.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. What are you… what are you doing here?”

He holds out the plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Uh… surprise?”

For once, the great Rodney McKay is completely speechless.

John clears his throat and shifts nervously from one foot to the next. He sets the plate of cookies down on the railing and rubs at the back of his reddening neck. “So I guess you… Uh, I guess this really isn’t what you were expecting.”

“No,” Rodney says dumbly, because he really wasn’t. Miko? Sure. Simpson? Maybe. But John Sheppard? John fucking Sheppard? Not in a million years. “Why?”

”M5-X847."

“The marriage ceremony? The one where they made you put stupid flowers in your hair and, and, and…”

“That’s the one.”

“But why?” Rodney asks, because he needs to know.

“Because I wanted it to be real,” John blurts out. His ears are absolutely flaming at this point and Rodney’s sure they’re going to spontaneously combust if they get any brighter. “I needed… I needed you to know and I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

“You baked. For me.”

“Every day.”

“Until you got hurt.”

“Well, yeah. It was kind of difficult when standing long enough to get to the bathroom was a chore. I was… I wanted to tell you that day, but you didn’t… you said you didn’t want to know.”

“I was afraid it was Kavanagh or some other equally terrible person!”

“Why would Kavanagh bake you cookies?”

“I don’t know! If could have been part of some nefarious plan to clog my arteries and send me to an early grave via horrendous heart blockage!”

John just stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Hey, it could happen.”

“Rodney, shut up,” John says and then he’s suddenly there, his lips pressed to Rodney’s.

It’s wonderful and terrifying and so right.

Rodney makes a little noise of surprise against John before he relaxes into his the kiss, reaching up tentatively to card his fingers through his silly hair.

When they break apart, they’re both panting.

“Was that… was that okay?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney says. “I think… purely for research purposes, you understand, I’m going to need you to kiss me again.”

“No problem,” John says and he leans in to kiss Rodney again.

——

By the time they’ve finished kissing, they’re both shivering in the chilly night air. John’s hair is messier than usual and Rodney’s lips are red and swollen.

“Seriously though,” Rodney says, burrowing closer to John’s side as John drops an arm around his shoulders. “Cookies? Really?”

“I figured that at least when it came to you, the old saying was true. The way to your heart is definitely through your stomach.”

“So you thought you could woo me with cookies?”

“It worked though,” John says triumphantly.

Rodney grins. It worked.

“Hey, next time, you think you could do peanut butter?”

“Shut up, Rodney,” John says fondly

“Why don’t you make me?”

“My pleasure.”

Prompt

:One day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one day a different object is left--and this time there's a note.

#mcshep #john sheppard #rodney mckay #sga #fandom: sga #stargate atlantis #ficlet #prompt fic #reposted from my old LJ as this is the only fic I've written in the past that didn't give me major second hand embarrassment.

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

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Toxic Love Chapter 9

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

Three nights. Three blissful sleep filled nights. It had been awhile since you slept the whole night through. Whether it be stress, nightmares, your other medication keep you up or having to work, there was always something that stopped you from getting a full nights rest. But this new one week trial of sleep medication that Dr. Wang put you on was a miracle worker. The only downside was that you only had four tablets left. If you wanted more, you would have to make an appointment with her. It was necessarily a bad thing, but how you would go about getting out of the tower without the buddy system was beyond you.

The downside of the last three days? The new dosage of your medication didn’t seem to be working. And Dr. Wang had discussed that with you too. If the dosing wasn’t working, you may have to switch medications all together and that too would require an in office visit.

Your irritation had gotten downright horrible along with your intense bouts of anger. Even if someone was chewing their food a certain way, it drove you crazy. So, instead of trying to hang out with Darcy or Pepper or Clint, you found yourself stuck in your room for almost 72 hours straight.

But then you started to have the ongoing feelings of emptiness. Without Steve or Bucky and you being cooped up in your room because you just couldn’t handle the sound or annoyance of anyone at the moment, you were lonely. So lonely. The last thing you wanted to do was let Steve or Bucky know while they were on a mission. You didn’t want to distract them and get them hurt.

At times you found your thoughts racing a mile a minute. ‘What if they just decide one day they no longer like me and want nothing to do with me’ or ‘what if they find out about my mental health and leave me’. Yep. A lot of thoughts of rejection and abandonment were also starting to creep into your mind.

But at least you were getting good sleep. And no more threats either. You hadn’t worked in a few days and as much as you wanted to, it was hard to get out of bed.

By day nine you were going absolute out of your mind. Your medications clearly weren’t working anymore and now you had run out of the sleep medicine too. You emailed Dr. Wang but with your stroke of luck, she was out of the office for the rest of the week and her scheduled was booked up for another two weeks after that. They marked you down for an appointment in exactly 19 days. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to last that long, but you decided to dig deep and find as much willpower as possible.

On day ten, you were just about to head down to your game room and get to work. You needed the distraction.

Walking out of your room you were shocked to see Steve and Bucky coming off the elevator. They were supposed to be gone for another two days you thought.

“Hey! Welcome back!” you cheered, happy to see them. Bucky gave you a soft smile as Steve dropped his shield on the ground angrily; the sound echoing around the apartment. Putting your foot in your mouth, words came tumbling from your lips. “Great. Crabby Steve is back.”

His head snapped towards you, a menacing scowl on his face. “Excuse me?” he growled angrily.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to deal with sour mood.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he barked out, storming towards you. He took in your appearance and you realized you didn’t have anything covering up the dark circles under your eyes. “When’s the last time you got any sleep?” Not even answering him, you shrugged your shoulders and walked right on passed him. “You answer me when I speak to you!”

“I don’t know Steve!” you yelled back at him.

If looks could kill, you would be six feet under. “Don’t even think about going down to work right now. You get back in your room and get some goddamn rest!”

“Steve, calm down,” Bucky urged, wanting to help dissolve the tension.

“I will not calm down Bucky,” he countered, his eyes never leaving yours.

You pressed the button on the elevator. “I’m going to work Steve. You can’t stop me. I haven’t worked since the second night I moved in.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed just an inch, but you could still tell he was pissed. “I want you back up here at a descent hour and in bed. Do you understand me?”

As the elevator doors closed, Steve could hear you say ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah’.

Alone in the elevator, you gave into your anger and punched and kicked the steel door, screaming profanities. You had to admit, it made you feel better.

Getting off on the communal floor, you saw Natasha in the kitchen.

“From the way Steve is acting, I’m going to guess the mission didn’t go as planned?” you asked.

“That would be correct,” Natasha replied, never looking up at the stack of papers in front of her. “We’ll get them next time.”

As the night went on, you realized this was the kind of distraction you needed. Why you hadn’t done this the whole time Steve and Bucky were gone was beyond you. You were having a blast, interacting with your followers, killing the villains and just having an all-around good time. Your body was less tense and for the first time in days, you were smiling.

Time got the best of you and by the time you were logging off, you realized it was after six in the morning. At this point, you didn't care. You were on a high from kicking some major gaming ass. And to top it all off, no threatening messages from JSmith20 tonight.

The communal kitchen was void of anyone and you got out the bread and plugged in the toaster, feeling hungry for the first time in days. It was only seconds later when the elevator doors opened and out walked Steve, Clint and Natasha. They were all wearing their workout clothes.

“Damn. You’re up early,” Clint joked as he began making a pot of coffee. You saw Steve come to stand next to you out of the corner of your eye. Hopefully he was in a better mood this morning.

You snorted at him, shaking your head. “More like I’m up way too late.” You didn’t even think about the words that came out of your mouth as you finished buttering your toast and placed it on a glass plate.

Grabbing your plate of toast, you turned around and started walking towards the elevator. The sound of a fist slamming on the granite table stopped you dead in y our tracks.

“I specifically told you to get to bed early last night. Did I not?” Yep, he still wasn’t in a good mood and you probably just made it ten times worse.

“You did,” came your short reply as you turned around to face him.

His jaw was clenched so hard you were surprised he didn’t break any teeth. He pointed upstairs and began to yell louder. “I want you to get your ass upstairs right now and get the fuck to bed! I don’t want you coming out of your room until I tell you to!”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks at being yelled at in front of people. Who the hell does he think he is telling you to go to your room like a fucking child? You had never felt such intense anger than you did in this moment. Without a second thought, you chucked your glass plate at his head. You would have hit him but he saw it coming and he ducked out of the way. The glass shattering into pieces on the floor.

“Fuck you Steve!” you screamed so loud you felt your vocal cords vibrate in your throat. The room fell silent as you turned on your heels and slammed open the door to the stairs. Fuck waiting for the elevator.

You took the stairs two at a time; your hands balled into fists. Blood was rushing to your ears and you didn’t hear your name being called angrily by Steve.

As you got to your floor, you kicked open the door and headed down the hallway to your room. All you wanted to do was scream. Scream and throw something and punch things. You needed to get this pent up anger out of you somehow or you felt like you were going to explode.

You extended your arm to reach the scanner on your door but you never made it. Instead, Steve gripped onto your wrist, yanking you away.

“Let me go!” you screamed, trying to kick at him, but it was no use. He had you pinned to the wall; his legs pushed against yours and his hands against your shoulders. You were stuck. Stupid super soldier strength.

“What in the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?” Steve demanded, his face so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath.

And you didn’t even know how to answer him. Because in that moment, seeing such rage burning behind Steve’s eyes, you were turned on. Oh fuck were you so turned on in that moment. You wanted him to drag you into your room and have complete rough and carnal sex.

Your shoulders were pinned to the wall by Steve’s firm grip, but your arms were still free to move around. As your eyes never left his, you picked up your right hand and grabbed Steve’s hand. His body stiffened against you, but he didn’t move. But once he noticed what you were doing, his eyes widened.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Bucky demanded as he saw Steve’s hand around your neck.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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theorangelifeofriley · 3 years

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Honolulu: Pearl Harbor, Punchbowl

July 24, 2021

We were to meet our driver at 8am this morning for our day at Pearl Harbor and the Punchbowl. There was much confusion about what to pack, since Pearl Harbor doesn’t allow bags at all – except maybe a small clear sandwich bag. I brought my home made wristlet – made out of a clear sandwich bag and some duck tape. We all packed things in my little wristlet for the day.

We got down to the little sitting area next to the pull-through driveway and our group was congregated with our guide for the day, Olav. Olav told us that we didn’t actually have anywhere to be until 1:30pm, so we had some time to make sure that we all had what we needed. And also that he would be with us all day and we’d be in the same car all day. He also strongly recommended hats and water bottles. We made several trips back up to the room to grab things. We also learned that Olav is unvaccinated, doesn’t believe in COVID-19, and is a staunch Republican who believes in his “Constitutional rights.” He is also an incredible font of knowledge about Pearl Harbor, and only occasionally threw in some of his slanted views. There is no way I’m going to be able to capture, or remember, all the information he told us – it was a continuous stream of knowledge for about 8 hours.

Eventually, we had all of our stuff, and we walked to the 15-passenger van, parked on the street behind the hotel. After we got settled, Olav took off through the city to the Punchbowl. The Punchbowl is a volcanic crater in the hills surrounding Honolulu. The center is a bowl – the crater – and they punched a hole through one of the crater’s rims to allow entry into the bowl. Hence the name – Punchbowl. Inside the Punchbowl is a national cemetery. There’s a monument at the end of it, and on the steps up to the monument is where Hawai’i holds memorial services for Veteran’s Day and Dec. 7. We’re not allowed to get out inside the Punchbowl, but we can drive through. Lining the driveway in the Punchbowl are Banyan trees donated to the US from China. China was our ally during World War II, and we helped to defeat the Japanese who had invaded and were conquering China. There are 48 trees, which represent the 48 states at the time of World War II. They’re beautiful trees that have been groomed to prevent additional roots from taking root.

The area is quiet and calm, and beautiful. There are no traditional white headstones like in Arlington. Instead, the headstones are flat. They used to be white wooden crosses but were changed to flat stone headstones to respect other religions – and allow for easier maintenance.

From the Punchbowl, we drove to Pearl Harbor, and to the USS Missouri BB 63, which is now a museum. As we drove through the city, Olav pointed out a neighborhood that burned when a bomb went astray on Dec. 7, 1941. He also described in detail what happened on Dec. 7, 1941 – the day Pearl Harbor was attacked. We learned about the SS Cynthia Olson which was sank en route from the mainland and Honolulu by a Japanese submarine on the morning of Dec. 7, 1941. The passenger ship was carrying two soldiers to Honolulu but was a passenger ship. There’s a photo of the Cynthia Olson as it was sinking taken by a Japanese soldier on the submarine. The Cynthia Olson got a may day call out, and another passenger ship heard the call. That second passenger ship confiscated all the passenger’s binoculars and assigned watch duty to the passengers. When that ship landed, the USA government confiscated all of their radio records and logs. Olav believes the records were confiscated because they show the time of the Cynthia Olson’s may day call. If that call happened before the bombing at Pearl Harbor, but was ignored, it would look very bad for the US military command.

As we entered the Pearl Harbor base, we drove to a parking lot and Olav left us to get an officer who cam back and searched our van for bags. Once that was done, we drove over the bridge to Ford Island and the USS Missouri BB-63. BB-63 stands for Battle Boat 63 – the 63rd battleship the US built. This is necessary because there have been four USS Missouri’s. The current USS Missouri is a submarine that was also docked at Pearl Harbor today. Of course you can’t call it BS-63 (battleship 63) – so battle boat 63 it is. The BB-63 was the last battleship built in the world, the most powerful, and the last one to retire. It was launched during World War II, saw battle in the Battle of Okinawa, was where the Instrument of Surrender was signed by the Japanese to officially end World War II, served in the Korean War, was decommissioned in the 60s, then refitted in the 80s, saw duty in Desert Storm, before finally being retired in the early 90s, then being made into a museum. Its parked in Battleship Row – where all the Battleships were anchored on Dec. 7.

Olav told us a lot about how the Pacific Fleet came to be in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7 – but then he seemed to contradict himself. The first story was that FDR ordered the Pacific Fleet to all be at Pearl Harbor as a “show of strength” to deter the Japanese. The Admiral of the Pacific Fleet thought this was stupid, because normally the Pacific Fleet rotated between several locations, and there was not enough of a supply chain, let alone docking berths, to allow the entire fleet to be in Pearl Harbor. He resisted, basically told FDR he was dumb, and lost his job. He had worked on the supply line, though, and worked on the docking situation too – which is how Battleship Row came to be.

As he told this story, I gathered that the next Admiral did as FDR wished and assembled the entire Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor. Olav made a point to say that FDR ignored the military advisors, and his Admiral, and all their knowledge to demand the fleet be in Pearl Harbor. Later, he told us that every year, the Admiral of the Pacific Fleet was required to inspect the fleet in Pearl Harbor. This always occurred on the Monday after the first Sunday in December. In 1941, that was Dec. 8. The Fleet was required to report to Pearl Harbor 24 -48 hours in advance of the inspection. Which then means that the fleet was assembled in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7 in preparation for the inspection on Dec. 8 – which doesn’t seem to have a lot to do with FDR.

The deck of the Mighty Mo is covered in teak, which they did to preserve the steel deck, to lower the temperature inside the boat, and to provide a natural nonslip surface. The teak on the deck has been replaced three times, all using different processes. One time they messed up trying to save money by putting 1 inch of Douglas Fir below 1 inch of team (instead of 2 inches of teak) – not realizing that Douglas Fir rots faster than teak.

During WWII, the Missouri was attacked by a Kamikaze, which was captured perfectly on camera. We saw the place where the Kamikaze’s wing impacted with the Missouri. We also saw footprints on the deck where our personnel stood as they buried the Kamikaze pilot at sea as directed by the Missouri’s captain.

We toured the inside of the ship, which was interesting. They had several displays with stuff from the Missouri, the history of the Missouri, remnants from the Kamikaze attack, etc. We walked through the galley, the kitchens, the offices – including the dental office – the food lines, including the donut shop, the fast food line, and the Truman line, so called because the Truman family visited and used that food line. There were crew quarters everywhere – berths stacked 3 high, and each sailor’s locker. The kitchens were crazy – the appliances were huge, and they had everything you could want! Well, all the kitchen toys you could want. The Missouri was the first ship to have a network of interconnected computers which they called MO-Net. This was all before the internet was created. The inside of the Missouri was extensive – it seemed to go on and on. We saw throughout the ship ammunition chutes. And a couple of places that would be vulnerable to armor piercing rounds which can pierce through 16” of steel – so these areas were outfitted with 17” think steel. The guns on the ship were huge and could take out a target 25 miles away. The guns had to be fired over the water, because the rounds were fired at twice the speed of sound, and the concussion would tear the ship apart if the guns were fired over the ship. Missouri, the state, was responsible for providing the fancy silverware and place settings – which is interesting. There was a great map that showed where all of the different USS Missouris served. We saw the Chief’s lounge, and the Captain’s lounge, which was also used as a war room, and the tables can be used as operating tables in a pinch. It was a great insight into what the ship would have looked like while it was in service.

When we were finished touring the inside of the boat, we went to the deck, and then to the Quarter Deck. On the Mighty Mo, the Quarter Deck has been renamed the Surrender Deck, because it was where the Japanese surrendered to the Allied Forces to end World War II. Olav told a story about how MacArthur stepped out of the navigation bridge to walk down to the Quarter Deck but noticed that the Japanese contingent hadn’t arrived yet. So he went back inside, saying, “I’m not going to wait for them. They will wait for me.” He also told us that the British brought a fancy table they wanted to use for the signing, but the papers they were signing were too large to fit on the table. The Missouri’s Captain ordered a seaman to grab a folding table from the ship, and they used that. One of the Japanese had a false leg, and as he was coming up to sign the papers, he stumbled and hit one of the legs of the folding table. The crew, who knew it was a folding table, held their breath for the rest of the ceremony – hoping that the table didn’t collapse. (It didn’t.)

On the Surrender Deck, there is a plaque where the table was and the documents were signed. There’s also a display with replicas of the documents. On the replicas, you can see that the Canadian representative signed on the wrong line on the first document. There’s a picture of someone making sure that he signed on the correct line on the second copy!

They’ve positioned the Missouri so that the bow of the battleship points to the bow of the USS Arizona. The ship that started the US involvement in WWII and the ship where WWII ended pointing to each other.

We finished on the Missouri, went to the gift shop, got some Dole Whip, and then drove to the Pearl Harbor Memorial area for lunch. Lunch was at a permanent food truck outside, and was decent, although Meg and Marie didn’t like their nachos or hot dog. After lunch, we went to watch a 20-minute movie about the attack on Pearl Harbor, before making our way to the ferry to the USS Arizona Memorial.

Olav detailed how the attack happened but of course I’m not going to remember everything. There were three waves of attacks – the dive bombers, the torpedoes, and the other type of bombers. Eek. They came from different directions, and in two separate waves. There were about… or over?... 300 planes in total. The battle lasted for 2 hours. Most all of the ships that were sunk were eventually retrieved and put back into service, except for the Arizona, the Oklahoma, and the Utah. The Japanese adjusted bombs? Or torpedoes? With an additional fin that allowed them to fun in the shallow waters of Pearl Harbor and hit Battleship row. I think Olav also indicated that the aerial bombers were not the ones that caused the most damage, generally – it was the torpedoes.

The ride out to the memorial was quick – the warnings about not misbehaving on an active Navy boat were almost as long as the ride itself. Once the ferry docks, we disembarked, and headed back to the back room. The memorial itself is a white concrete building. The architect was a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps and wanted to build the memorial to remember the lives that were spent to save and free so many across the world, including in the concentration camps. The structure is a loose U-shape. The low point in the middle represents initial defeat at Pearl Harbor. The inclines on either side represent the slow climb to victory in Europe and the slow climb to victory in the Pacific. There are seven cut outs along either side and the top, which were for structural integrity, but have later been said to represent a 21-gun salute. The structure is situated across the middle of the sunken USS Arizona – the ship heaviest hit by the attack on Dec. 7. 1,177 seamen were lost with the Arizona and never recovered. Another 41 of the survivors, or relatives of those lost, have chosen to be interred in the Arizona.

As soon as I set foot on the dock, I smelled the oil or gasoline from the wreck. You could see it on the water, too. There is oil still leaking from the ship and will continue to leak for decades more. There were a lot of people at the memorial, but it was mostly quiet, as is fitting. We walked right back to the room where the names of those buried here are displayed. It’s made of the same marble as the headstones in Arlington. The room is beautiful but somber.

Just outside of that room is a hole in the floor of the structure that is situated over a part of the ship. I didn’t see much there. Outside, on either end of the structure, there are two white buoys that represent where the bow and the stern of the ship are. There are also pieces of the ship, like the gun turrets, and the flag staff, that are still sticking out above the water. It was a moving experience.

After the ferry back to the main site, we went and toured the USS Bowfin – a retired submarine that is only 27’ in circumference. It was tiny, and holy cow does it seem miserable to have served on it. They call it the Silent Service – the work of the submarines. The Bowfin was launched on Dec. 7, 1942, and was therefore nicknamed The Pearl Harbor Avenger. The kitchen was tiny, and only had minimal toys. Olav tells us that the food was cooked on the mainland, frozen, and placed in the submarine’s freezers.

The worst thing was hot bunking. There were only 36 bunks on board the submarine, but about 86 sailors on board. So they rotated beds – multiple people shared a bed. With the temperatures on the submarine running in the 90s or 100s, the beds were wet with the other guy’s sweat. Yuck.

The doorways between the areas of the ship were so small and short too! It was a workout to squat and contort myself through the doorways.

After the Bowfin, we drove back to the city Olav was kind enough to drive us to Costco. This Costco is the busiest on in America. I didn’t go in, but the parking lot was crazy! Anne, Aimee, and Marie went in to get food for the next few days, and they did a great job! Then, it was back to the hotel, and our time with Olav was over. He is a knowledgeable, talkative tour guide to be sure!

Back in the room, some of us split up for naps and downtime until dinner at 6:30. Rileys, Drew, and Todd stayed at our place to watch the Olympics and drink the 5th of rum we bought the night before. Todd made us a whole series of frozen drinks that were great, and did the job! We had a raucous good time watching Men’s Street Skateboarding, where the athletes wiped out more than they landed tricks. It was brutal!

We had tacos for dinner, and continued watching the Olympics, and the activity on the ocean. From our view from the living room and our balcony, we can see all the hundreds of surfers always hanging out on the water, and the couple that actually make surfing runs. There’s a lot of boat traffic, including a lot of boats that go out to watch the sunset. There’s also a surprising number of large cargo ships that travel pretty close to this beach. It was a great time tonight!

#alohabeaches #july24 #2021 #hawaii #honolulu #pearl harbor #punchbowl

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michellejackson · 3 years

Link

Prompt by @xphrnzrjh 💞

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2434

Acquaintances to study partners to friends to lovers AU

Chapter one

So, Kieu My never meant to go this far. Too bad she was a hopeless slash desperate romantic with horrible, horrible ideas which she just happens to be stupid enough to follow through with.

Being at school after hours wasn’t unusual, many would use the library and study rooms for homework or to work on group projects. So no, that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual however, was stealing keys from the teachers’ lounge, sneaking into the classroom reserved for the English class, finding the paper where the English teacher has partnered up the students for a future team project, stealing it, sneaking out, copying it, swapping around the names in a way that won’t be noticeable, sneaking back in and leaving the altered paper.

Kieu My could admit that that was an out-of-character move for her, but hey, it worked didn’t it? You might think, that’s kind of drastic, don’t you think? Well, yes, but also… let’s just start from the beginning.

Kieu My was about a week into the school year when she noticed her. She was skating around the schoolyard in khakis, a thin purple see-through sweater and a yellow and purple Hawaiian shirt, looking like she owned the place. The look really shouldn’t have worked, but it did, and she looked so damn good. The sight of her had stopped Kieu My in her tracks, forcing her to pay attention as she swiftly skated through the crowds of students until she stopped before a familiar blonde. Nora. Zoe’s sister. Interesting…

Later that day, during lunch, Kieu My tried her best to subtly ask Zoe about her sister’s friend, but she didn’t seem to catch on. Like at all.

“So... how’s Nora? She settling in okay? Got some new friends?” subtle, Kieu My, real subtle.

“Oh, she’s great! She got this new boyfriend, have you seen him? His name is Josh, and he is hot, seriously, wait let me show you a picture.” Turned out it was subtle. Too subtle.

“Oh, good for her, uhm, how about-”

“He’s just the sweetest guy, she’s really happy-” so she spent the next ten minutes looking at pictures of Nora’s boyfriend and listening to her best friend talk him up. Not the way she planned this lunch to go. Before she knew it, they parted ways and she was none the wiser.

She did contemplate asking Nora personally, but decided it would be weird considering she didn’t know her that well. So instead, she spent the rest of that day daydreaming. None of her classes got as much of attention as the skater did. How had she never seen here before? School had been in full motion for a week, and she hadn’t seen any traces of the girl before today, which would mean that they had zero classes together. Sigh.

The weekend was spent trying to find her on Instagram, which was a tedious job. First, she went to Zoe’s account to find Nora’s, which was easy enough, but as it turns out, Nora has a private profile, so she had to improvise further. She spent half an hour trying to remember her boyfriend’s name, and when she remembered that his name was Josh, she looked through the people Zoe follows to find him.

Bad news: Zoe doesn’t follow him.

Good news: Zoe did show her his photos on Instagram, which means he has an open profile.

Bad news: She had to actually find that profile.

Initially, she was going to just write in the name Josh and look through every profile Instagram recommended, but then she came to her senses and realized that that’s a shit idea. So, she logged into the school’s website and looked up the list of current students to go through until she found every single person named Josh.

And bingo. Josh Zimmermann.

Kieu My let out a cry of happiness when she finally found his profile but was again let down when she didn’t see any pictures of the girl. She knew this had been a longshot, but she was still disappointed.

So yeah, she gave up. She took her defeat with stride, and started look through Josh’s pictures, because let’s face it, she had nothing else to do. Maybe she’d find a comment left by the girl or something. Josh was cute, she’d admit. If she wasn’t so hung up on a girl she saw once for five minutes, maybe she’d spent more time admiring, but she was, so she didn’t.

She stopped scrolling when she landed on about the fifth picture Josh had posted of this one girl, a pretty brunette woman. The curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on her tag. Her name was Yara, and her profile was filled with pictures of her with Josh, and some other girls. Her heart skipped a beat. She had a picture with Nora and another brunette. She was friends with Nora.

She quickly scrolled down her profile, continuously looking for the skater girl. She found it almost at the bottom. The picture was taken from the side, but it was without a doubt her. She was wearing glasses and had white locks in her hair, and she was holding a tortoise in her hands. The caption read “meet Maike” . It took an embarrassingly long time before Kieu My realized that Maike was the name of the turtle, and not the skater girl, but let’s not dwell on that.

Yara, bless her soul, had tagged the girl. Kieu My was in such a rush to click on the tag, she accidentally liked the picture. A picture from four months ago. The only picture of Fatou on Yara’s profile that was posted four months ago. She’d liked it. She wished she could say that she unliked it right away, but she was frozen for so long she was sure Yara had gotten the notification. Well, better late than never, right?

She unliked the picture as she cursed herself, and proceeded to click onto Fatou’s profile, which of course, was private. But she wasn’t mad, nor that disappointed, because she had a name now. Her name was Fatou. She’d found her! Fatou. Fatou.

She went back to the list of students.

Fatou Jallow. She continuously spun the name around in her head in English class the following Monday, she’d chosen a window seat this time, which she looked out of while daydreaming yet again.

So when someone sat down next to her, with a quick hello, she was startled to say the least. She was even more startled when she looked up to see the girl. The skater girl. Girl of her daydreams. Fatou. Fatou Jallow.

She just looked at her, in shock mostly, did she just manifest this? Is she starting to have visions now? Is she going crazy? And while Kieu My came up with a hundred reasons to how this could’ve happened, Fatou seemed to shrink under her gaze, seemingly backing off. Wait, no, no, no, no. Goddamn resting bitch face.

She was just about to speak up when the teacher clapped his hands, demanding attention as he started the class, and she was left looking like an asshole. She would’ve physically banged her head into the table if that wouldn’t turn Fatou even more off her.

“And you must be Fatou, nice of you to finally show up-”

Five seconds ago, Kieu My wouldn’t be so sure that Fatou could get any smaller, but the teachers comment seemed to make her especially uncomfortable, and Kieu My found herself wanting to chop his head off. Respectfully.

But Kieu My didn’t say anything, she never did, and she always cursed herself for it. Instead, she found herself looking at Fatou’s hands, placed on the desk next to her. She was fumbling with her thumb ring, which was yellow, and while focusing longer on it, Kieu My realized it was a mood ring. She had half a mind to whip out her phone right then and there to look up the different colors and their meanings, but instead made a mental note to do that later.

“Kieu My? Are you paying attention?”

Her head whipped up as the teacher said her name, and she blushed as she looked to Fatou who had clearly noticed where her focus was as the teacher called her name. The girl displayed a knowing smile, and instead of looking bashful as she did before, she almost looked a little smug. Her ring had turned into a blue-green color and Kieu My’s blush deepened as she caught herself looking at her hands once again.

She just nodded to the teacher, willing him to move on.

“So, as I was saying, I’m pairing you up to work on a project that’s due at the end of the month. You and your partner will be tasked to pick a classic work, rewrite it, and then perform it in front of the class. Got it? Great. Before anyone asks, you will not get to pick your partner, I have already paired everyone up randomly-” he pulled out a paper from under the desk, quickly displaying it before putting it back into the drawer. Fatou groaned and Kieu My rubbed her forehead, already hating this assignment.

“You’ll get more info on Wednesday, but if you go onto page 16-”

Kieu My made sure to pay extra attention to the rest of the class and when it was over, she had almost forgotten about the girl next to her.

That was a lie, she didn’t forget, quite the opposite actually, but she wasn’t about to flaunt that. She took her time packing up her stuff, seeing if Fatou would try to talk to her. She couldn’t be sure if Fatou had left yet, seeing that Kieu My had used up all of her will power to not look her way, but when she’d finished packing up all of her stuff and went to leave, she could see Fatou spending even more time than her to pack her bag.

Fatou looked up from her bag when she finished, smiling at Kieu My. God, she had a beautiful smile. As she stood up to leave, she looked into her eyes and said, “too bad we can’t pick our own partners” . Kieu My doesn’t remember how she reacted, all she remembers is the heat taking over. However, the way she’d reacted had seemed to delight Fatou though, who grinned at her as she left the classroom.

At lunch she sat with Ismail, Zoe being off somewhere with Finn. Kieu My didn’t say much, her mind somewhere else, but that didn’t stop Ismail from talking their head off. As they were talking, Kieu My was only half listening while looking up mood rings on her phone. She looked through different type of mood rings until she found one that looked like Fatou’s, and quickly found the color chart.

So, it seemed like her mood ring consisted of seven main colors, black, gray, yellow, green, blue-green, blue and violet. She thought back to this morning, and what colors Fatou’s ring had been.

At first it had been yellowish, when Kieu My had accidentally blown her off with her deadpan. Okay, yellow; “nervous, mixed emotions, unsettled”. Great. She had unsettled her. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she reminded herself that mood rings weren’t necessary correct. She’d get a chance to fix it, it was fine. It’s fine.

“and you have English with Mr. Strauss, too right? That paired up assignment is already enough for him to be my least favorite person in the world-”

“yeah, and we can’t even pick partners…” Kieu My adds absentmindedly, just to keep them going. She thinks about what Fatou had said, and her smile.

The second color she’d seen on her finger was blue-green, after she’d caught her staring at her hands. Kieu My cringed at herself just thinking about it. Blue-green; “inner emotions, charged, somewhat relaxed” hmm…

“Right?! What an idiot. God, I swear, we should break into the classroom and swap the papers or something…” Ismail joked with a laugh. This got her attention though. She looked up from her phone as Ismail just kept on rambling, further joking about hacking into the school system or something, but she again wasn’t paying attention, because now she was stupid enough to form an even stupider plan.

And that’s how she ended up here. Broken into the classroom, swapping the papers. It seemed like a bad idea when she thought about it after Ismail had said it, and now that she’s doing it, she knows it’s an even worse one than previously imagined.

Kieu My wasn’t one to speak up when she wasn’t called for, or to do anything that would incriminate her, so to say that her hands were shaking and that she was freezing cold out of her own skin was an understatement. She cannot afford to be expelled. But the worst was over now. On the way out she didn’t even bother to drop the keys off where she found them, she was too scared to, so she simply dropped them right outside of the teachers’ lounge and didn’t stop running before the school was too far away to see.

That following Wednesday Kieu My was so paranoid and so sure that she would be found out. When the time for English class came around, she seriously contemplated skipping class for the first time ever. She didn’t though, but she purposefully came just a little late so that the teacher wouldn’t have time to speak to her before class. She was freezing and her hands were shaking.

When she entered the class, the only seat available was the same she sat in last, and she was confused at first, because Fatou sat at the same place at last too. Not the window seat, but the one next to it. She hesitated towards the seat, not sure if it was held off for someone or something, but when Fatou saw her she smiled. And Kieu My melted onto her seat.

The class was surprisingly uneventful, and towards the end she found herself relaxing. Or that was until the teacher decided to announce the partners. As he went through the list, she didn’t blink once.

“Kiey My and Fatou-” …he didn’t even flinch. Kieu My waited just a little longer before letting out a huge breath. Oh my god. He didn’t even notice.

She looked to Fatou, who was already looking at her, smiling.

This time Kieu My smiled back.

#druck #please this is so chaotic idek #read this with a grain of salt #or like a lot of it #kieutou #fatou x kieu my #druck fic #kieutou fic #druck fanfic

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grazieschillivera · 3 years

Text

A day off

Authors note: filled with randomness and comfort here and there, just wrote this to escape from studying

Word count: ca.2400

The third bang on your door, made you give up on getting your sleep.With sloopy steps you made it to your door, only to find Frenchie,Hughie and Butcher happily standing in front of you, once you your eyes could focus propberly.

,,There she is.Morning sunshine.'' said Butcher stepping past you into your dorm.

,,Is that a Star Wars poster?'' asked Hughie following Butcher.

You were far too tired to reacte, too overwhelmed with this situation.The long sleeves of your hodie hid your yawn.

,,Naww petite Y/N.All sleepy and cute.'' said Frenchie bringing you in his embrace petting your messy bun.

,,Guys!Its fucking Sunday what are you doing here?'' you asked with raspy voice, still hiding your face from the sunlight that came in, due to Butcher shoving the curtains away.

,,Right.Perfect timing for some quality time for the group.What could be better for that than a Comic Book Con?'' asked Butcher joining Hughie with getting through your stuff.

,,Fuck off boys.I need sleep.I finished my essays just four hours ago.'' you whined not at all convinced of that idea and resting in Frenchies arms.

,,Shut up Y/N I thought you were into this stuff.'' said Hughie while looking through your merchandise.

,,Can't I just go back to sleep and bring you some waffles later?That would have way more quality.'' you said but already gave in and pulled away from Frenchie.

,,Nope.Actually we have a little mission to do there.'' said Hughie turning with your lightsaber in his hands to you, looking amazed at it , when it turned out to be a green one.

,,Besides Frenchie makes the better ones.You were the one who wanted to join us, go get dressed.'' said Butcher taking the lightsaber from Hughie.

,,Fine.Just give me second.'' you said gathering up some clothes, your lightsaber from Butcher and your washbag and left your room.Only to come back after a moment to throw your weapon onto your bed, when you realised that you still had it in your hands.

,,Hey did you guys ever heard of privacy?'' you asked when you had entered your dorm again and saw Butcher at your laptop and Hughie still going through your merchandise stuff on your shelves.Frenchie layed in your bed, almost half asleep.

You walked strictly to Butcher and looked at your laptop's screen, seeing the text of your essay, but you could swear you saw the screen just had changed.Giving Butcher a daring gaze while you brought your washbag back into your vanity, trying to analyse his hidden grin.

,,What is that?I don't even know that.'' said Hughie looking at your gallyfreyan writing.

,,What ever this might be proves that Y/N is more of a fucking nerd than you are.'' said Butcher.

,,Its Gallyfreyan for fuck off.'' you said when you took the papers from Hughie to put them back into their box.

,,Can we go now?'' Butcher asked standing up from your desk and clapping on Frenchie's shoulder when he walked past him.

,,Just a second.'' you said, when you reminded yourself to do something you insisted on, now that you had Butcher here at your dorm.

You showed him a news article from the university, about your litertature club, writing about their performed works from last weekend praising especially your work.

,,Behind her creativity always lies an interesting critic to several current topics, that is clearly structured and could even knock out Homelander.'' you read out loud, while doing an awful job of hiding your pride.,,See I was right when I said I could at least put you over my knees rhetorically.Appearingly I can do that even with Homelander.'' you added.

Butcher continued to read the article.,,Homelander is a stupid cunt, who somehow managed to get taking serious while wearing latex.'' said he when he had enough of the reading.

,,I don't care about Homelander, I care about you Butcher.'' you said when you took the article and laid it back on your desk.

,,Now you're becoming soft on me again Y/N.'' said Butcher while walking outside of your dorm with the rest.

,,I mean it.Did someone wrote something like this ever about you?'' you said, insisting that this got accpreciated by him, since his critic on your arguments left you frustrated last time.

,,Listen love.I don't need an article that tells me I'm good in putting everyone over my knee.Even though I start to think you wouldn't mind if I did that to you – rhetorically of course.'' he added with a grin leaving you a bit irritated behind him,when he walked further down the hallway.

You were thankful for yourself bringing sunglasses for today to hide your tired eyes, since Hughie listened loudly the radio during the whole trip to the Convention, taking the last chance of sleep from you.

The plan was to talk with a supe about some former actions form Vought he should know of.Frenchie and Hughie were send to do this, while you and Butcher waited for them on the convention, that reminded you of a graveyard that came halfheartedly back to life.

,,Seriously ,did I really need to come with you guys for this?Its not that we do something helpful.'' you said still looking around.

,,We do.We stay here until Frenchie and Hughie are done with their part, I'll do the driving part and you can just take a break from studying.'' Butcher said.

,,Writing.About what?Failed artists or sexual frustrated fans?'' you asked not very convinced.

,,Funny that you mention that.'' said Butcher while he took out his mobile to show you something.

,,You asshole.How?'' you only managed to ask, mouth opened in disbelieve when you recognised your account with your posts.

,,I have my sources.'' said Butcher with a grin and started to scroll through your account.

,,I stayed logged in from last night.'' you said already knowing the answer while palming your face.

,,That answers my first question.All those thirsty posts from you are current?'' asked he while grinning down at his mobile.

,,No!They are in fact very old.Almost as old as you are.'' you said trying to stop Butcher from reading your stuff.

,,Screw this stupid article and you for that - I'm not that old.This is just pure smut- or is there also a perfectly argumented critic behind getting fucked by Eddie Vedder.I can't believe it you're writing texts to jack off to. '' said Billy still amused.,,Our sweet and intellectual Y/N does such naughty things in her spare time.''

,,My only texts to jack off to are my works, once they are approved by my professors.'' you said not interested in talking about your dark past.

,,And thats the problem.You need a day off, even I noticed that you have been fucking tense lately.'' Butcher said, you could tell that the last part was truly concerned.

,,With spending my day at this sad convention.Thank you Butcher.'' you said playing it down.

,,I can't let the guys be alone by themselves love.Besides I think I might can help with that, getting rid of some tension, you know?'' he said in his cocky voice.You eyed him up with a strange grin.

,,Is that an offer? I never thought you could be so generous yet so romantic.'' you said with a snort.

,,Same goes for you, in all this dirty talk and kink stuff I still can find your romantic side between the lines.Even though many seemed not to think so, according to your likes.'' said Butcher with a last look at his mobile while you gave him a last warning look.

,,That was not written from my heart nor my head, and I'm lucky my libido is not supposed to generate likes.'' you said.Butcher had to laugh at this genuily, before both of you continued you walk.

,,This is just fucking sad.When you read all those comics you can clearly read what people need right now and if you compare it to our reality it makes this whole shit even more worse.I hope Frenchie and Hughie can handle this guy.'' you said when you had stoped by a booth with comic books and looked over them.Butcher humed.

,,I guess they will be fine.The only special thing he can do his talk to animals.'' said Butcher and you noded with a chuckle, now you knew what Supe they wanted to meet here.

,,I thought you like this stuff, at least according to your shelves.'' said Butcher looking over your shoulder into the comic you held in your hands.

,,Since when do you look for people to interriogate that I could possibly like?'' you asked with smirk, before you put the comic back.

,,I'm not.That was just a lucky coincidence.Or unlucky - you still seem pissed.What's wrong?'' Butcher asked.

,,Honey I have work to do.Sundays are planed for studying.'' you explained tired but still had to smile since you thanked Butcher for his effort.

,,Honey huh? You really start to become soft with me.'' said Butcher with a smirk and followed you when you turned away from him to continue your walk.

,,You should know by now that I use those names when I just don't want to call you something mean.'' you said.

,,Well if you hate it here we can at least have a bit fun with your writing.'' Butcher said putting his mobile out again.

In the next minutes Butcher managed to get to know about all your preferences that your posts could reveal and he clearly seemed to enjoy that.You would also start to ask him out since you wanted to keep this interriogation fair, that leaded to the both of you having a very open conversation about sex and some weird stories about some experiences, almost in the middle of a convention.But you didn't care this entertained you clearly more than the comic books.

You got interrupted by a call you had to answer.After some time you came back to Butcher to tell him that you needed to go back to your dorm since a friend reminded you of the upcoming test next next week.

You already wanted to turn on your heel and call your friend back again, when Butcher reached out for your hand.A discussion started about wether you would leave this convention or not.

,,Are you mad you can't just forbid me to stay.'' you said after you gave up on explaining yourself properly.

,,When was the last time you just did nothing?You're completly stressed out Y/N.Have you at least eaten something today?'' asked Butcher.

,,No.Thanks to you guys I got kicked out of bed.'' you said, having Butcher cursing under his breath when he realised that.

,,I will make it up for you, just try to stay calm now.Your lips look terrible already.'' said Butcher still holding your hand in his.

,,What?'' you asked clearly a bit confused at this remark.

,,You always chew your lips when you're stressed out and they look awful right now.'' said he and you had to praise him again for being sensitive, recieving an grumpy look.But he was right when you gave him a smile in response you noticed how chapped they were.Great now you looked tired and terrible.

,,Maybe next Sunday.I still need to get a job once this whole detective thing with us is done.'' you said, tears started to fill your eyes caused by your rising stress level and even with the sunglasses Butcher could tell how you felt right now.

In the same moment Hughie and Frenchie ran to you , being completly out of breath but still managed to tell you that they messed up.The Supe had no interest messing around with Vought and called the security.You tried took calm down, that your tears would stay in your eyes and focused on the conversation between the boys.

,,This stupid eco- fucker.'' said Butcher.

,,Did you just asked him nicely or did you also brought some good arguments with you.'' you asked.

,,What should we havve against him? Sometimes you just have to hope that some people still have the balls to do something good.'' said Hughie.

,,Or you have to hope that they also just assholes.'' you said and pulled your phone out to search for something.

,,Here that's a list of women , who accuse him of sexual harassment, there are even videos and pictures on this side to prove their accusations.I thought you were prepared.'' you said and handed Hughie your mobile.

,,Where did you get this from?'' asked Butcher.

,,I have my sources.No matter how stupid the fandom we nerds stay together.'' you said a bit exaggerated.

,,At least something for today.'' you said now a bit satisfied when you looked after Frenchie and Hughie who walked back to the supes booth.

You even allowed Butcher to lay an arm over your should to pull you close to him.

,,That was fucking diabolical.Don't you ever think less of you love.'' said Butcher.

You pressed yourself against him and hid your face in his jacket, afraid that someone would see you start crying otherwise.A deep breath came from him and you could hear his smile out of it, while his hand stroked your hair softly.

,,Thanks.'' you said once you found your voice again, with your head buried in his shirt.

,,Come on lets get you back home.Guess the boys won't take long now.'' said Butcher and brought you to the car with his arm still around you.

While you were driving back you fell asleep.Butcher had decided to take you with them despite your saying but when you woke up after some nice hours of sleep and all cuddled up in your blanket you didn't mind at all.Frenchie had even made some waffles before he and Kimiko went away to spend the rest of the day together.

,,You know when you aren't tired or hungry you actually look kinda hot, even with those chapped lips.'' said Butcher when you stood next to him to you lay your empty plate on the kitchen island.

You gave him a smirk.,,Do you always flirt with women like this?'' you asked.Your gaze on him tried to stay unimpressed, when he pressed you against the table with his familiar smirk on.

,,Only if they are also into quickies on kitchen tables.'' said Butcher, his hands roamed over your curves carefully to test the waters.

,,You really needed my bad writing for this?'' you asked in disbelieve, when you already were sat on the table and started to kiss Butcher.

,,Don't worry love I myself have plenty of ideas for us.'' said Butcher before he started to kiss you again.

#the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #the boys imagine

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thesnowinthemountains · 4 years

Text

Surprises from Monsta X

Shownu

“Hey, you’re home,” you called when you heard the front door open and shut. You hurried out of your room, where you’d been writing an overly elaborate essay, fishing for extra credit. You found Shownu, drenched, shaking water from his jacket, struggling out of his wet shoes. “Is it raining?” You asked. “Pouring.” He mumbled, shifting grocery bags from one arm to the other. “Let me take those,” you offered, but he held them away from you. “No, wait, I have something for you, wait, wait.” He finally kicked off his shoe, coming up to you. He dropped a bag on the counter and turned to the other one. “They’re probably gross now, but-” he held up a giant bouquet of flowers. “I thought you’d like them, a bunch of them are your favorite color, so… I don’t know, I thought of you...” Now you pictured him picking out flowers for you, only to see the rain pouring down and running to his car, then running inside, hoping to surprise you. The flowers were soaked, a few of them wilted, but the intention was so sweet you gave him a big kiss anyway. “I love them, thank you.” “Are you sure? They’re dripping…” “I don’t care, you got them for me, that’s all that matters.” You smiled, holding your flowers like they were the most valuable thing you’d ever seen.

Wonho

Your birthday had been coming up, and your boyfriend had not said a word about it. If you hadn’t known him for so long, you might have thought he had forgotten. You’d known him forever though, and he was smiling to himself a lot and disappearing randomly, so you knew he had something up his sleeve. When the day finally came, he woke you up with breakfast in bed, presented you with a handful of little gifts he’d found over the past few months that made him think of you, and explained that he had planned a dinner with your family at your favorite restaurant. He seemed to be done, but he still had a glint in his eye that you couldn’t help but focus on. “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.” You said finally, taking a sip of your coffee and leaning back against the headboard. He played with your hair for a second before going to the living room to get his laptop. “I’ve been working on something, but it’s not really done yet. I was hoping to have it done for your birthday, but I guess you can hear it like this.” He murmured, sitting back besides you on the bed, logging in and clicking a few things before a soft melody floated through the laptop’s speakers. “You wrote me a song?” You squeaked. He nodded, biting his lip. “I just couldn’t get it out of my head.” You pulled him to you for a kiss and he smiled against you. “It’s not finished though.” He murmured. “I don’t care, it’s perfect for now.”

Minhyuk

“So what is this surprise you haven’t shut up about?” You ask. Your boyfriend had been alluding to some cryptic surprise he had for you for days now. He had promised to tell you on Friday. The day had finally come. “Surprise? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took on his teasing tone, all overly innocent and soft. He was sitting at the kitchen table going through his phone. You moved to sit in front of him, arms crossed over the table. “Minhyuk. Darling. You know I love you, but if you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to kill you.” You said calmly. He hummed, still not looking up. “Well, if you do that you’ll never find out what it is, will you?” “Just tell me.” You sighed. He turned his phone toward you, his screen showing his schedule for the rest of the month, all full, crazy busy, except for the upcoming Saturday - tomorrow. “I thought we could spend the day together. Maybe go to those thrift stores in town you like and make fun of the 80s sections.” You smiled to yourself. “You always end up buying half the stupid 80s section though.” “Yes, and I pull it off, too. Are you in?” “Of course,” you shifted forward to kiss his cheek.

Kihyun

It had been a rough few weeks at work. You were coming home most nights drained, ready to immediately hop into bed and just wipe out until the morning. Kihyun had noticed this. One night, you came home to the smell of cooking, fresh bread, and you saw candlelight emanating from the kitchen. “I’m home,” you called. You heard a sharp gasp, the refrigerator door shut quickly and your boyfriend appeared, glass of wine in hand. “I made dinner, here, welcome home,” he smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. He offered you the glass of wine and you sighed contently. “What did I do to deserve you?” You murmured, kissing him again with a smile this time. “You worked a shitty job for years and then I spawned into your life,” he joked and you followed him to the kitchen. You found a wonderful spread on the table, candles lit, pasta being made, and your favorite sweater waiting for you on the back of your chair. “I love you so much, come here,” you beckoned him and he smiled against your mouth this time. When you had finally sat down, sweater now on and legs up on the chair, Kihyun turned back to the stove. “Tell me about your day, then.” You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather hear about yours.” You took a sip of your wine.

Hyungwon

Hyungwon loved your smile. He would never say so, he would never admit that he wanted to squish you every time you laughed or grinned at him, but he did. His heart would melt, he could feel his soul get soft, and he was not the type to normally feel this way. For this reason, he had arranged a whole weekend getaway, something he had never expected from himself. He’d booked a nice country house, looked up places to visit that he knew you’d enjoy; he’d prepared everything. All that was left was to tell you, and when he did, he wanted the moment to be ideal, so he took you out to dinner, treated you to good food and drinks, even promised you a walk around the neighbourhood after. “So… I have a surprise,” he finally breathed after dinner. “A surprise?” Your eyes lit up and he had to look down to prevent himself from giggling like an idiot - the man was truly head-over-heels in love with you. He reached into his jacket pocket, holding out a printed reservation for the house, tickets for a specific exhibit he was dying to bring you to. He watched you read them, watched a smile crawl onto your face and held out his hand so you’d take it. “I love you,” you said, not looking up, still in awe. “I love you too,” he laughed; the sentence seemed far too simple for what he felt.

Jooheon

You walked up the stairs, keys ready, when you heard a cry from your apartment. It sounded like your boyfriend, you were pretty sure it was, but you had never heard him scream like that, like he was scandalized but also trying not to laugh. You unlocked your front door slowly. “Jooheon? I’m home?” You called tentatively. “Oh!” His head popped from the hallway to your bedroom. “Uh… Give me a sec, okay?” He disappeared again and you giggled, relieved that he seemed okay. “Sure. What are you up to?” You went over to the couch, dropping your bag. “I got us something,” he called. His excitement was contagious and your eyes widened. He finally walked into the living room, puppy in hand. You covered your mouth, delighted, not knowing what to say. “Do you like him? I named him already so you better like him cause he’s not leaving.” “I love him, give him.” You whispered, arms outstretched. Jooheon handed you the dog and you hugged him to your neck like a baby. “Oh my god, what did you name him?” “For now it’s Nari, but if you hate it, we can change it,” he rushed out, coming up to pet the puppy’s head.

Changkyun

It wasn’t a big surprise. You had met Changkyun at work and gotten closer to him after a promotion. At some point, he started bringing you coffee to work every morning. At first, he asked if you would like some, from where, what kind - it would be every few days, maybe once a week. Eventually, though, he caught on to your tastes and brought one to you every morning. If you weren’t at your desk, he’d drop it off on the way to his. At some point, he started writing you little messages on them. “Good morning.” “I like that jacket you wore yesterday.” “Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” Your heart skipped a beat - a long held crush was finally answered. He wasn’t at his desk when you walked up, so you found a pen and answered on his own paper cup. “Sounds wonderful. When and what time?”

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

Text

Of The Valley (Joel x F!Reader)

Chapter 1: Autumn Days

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added or removed): @fangirl-inthe-us @sidepuff

A/N: This fic will follow pre revenge plot TLOU 2. It will follow the flashbacks and such, up until the day after the dance, then it will sprout out differently. I don’t recommend reading this until you have finished the game.

Welcome to my Fanfixtion. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here!

•••

The sun rose slowly above the eastern mountains, streams of sunlight pouring into the old windows. The bustling of mid morning Jackson was loud outside, even louder in the crowded restaurant. You kept up with the never ending pile of orders though.

You waded through the chattering crowd, holding dirty plates close to you, you placed them on the back counter and returned to your post by the front of the bar.

“Maria,” You called out cheerfully as the older woman sat down at the bar. She responded with a smile.

“I’ll take an order of scrambled eggs and bacon. Side of toast will do just fine too.”

“Bacons in high demand right now. I can only give you a few pieces,” You replied, writing down the order on a piece of paper.

“As long as it’s bacon, I don’t care if I get one piece or five.”

“Anything to drink with that?”

“Nope. Unless by any chance you’ve got coffee, then I’ll have to buy a cup for me and for Joel.”

“No coffee yet. The trader’s from the south aren’t due for a couple more months, I thought? I’ll be first in line to get those beans when they do come through though,” You said, backing away from the bar to place the receipt on the far counter.

“You might have to fight Joel for that spot, you know,” Maria chuckled.

“On second thought, I’ll be second in line, I do know he loves his coffee. Almost as much as you love bacon.”

“That’s probably true,” Maria responded with a shrug.

You went back to taking orders and bringing out food to customers, chatting with your friends here and there. When Maria’s order came out, you brought it over to her quickly. Breakfast sounded amazing right now, you would definitely order some food once your shift ended. At least the crowd had died down, only a few stragglers were left in the restaurant.

“Here you are. Scrambled eggs and bacon. With some toast,” You said, placing the two plates in front of her.

“Thank you.” Maria grabbed a fork and dug in. There were no more orders coming out from the back, so you took this time to rest. You grabbed a rag and began wiping down the bar. Maria glanced over at you briefly, like she was looking to say something.

“Penny for your thoughts, Maria?”

Maria sighed and set down her fork.

“I need a favor.”

“What type of favor?” You tried your hardest not to sound suspicious. When Maria needed a favor from you, it usually wasn’t good.

“It’s a small one. Nothing too bad,” She said slowly.

“Okay,” You blinked, setting down your rag.

“I need you to go on patrol today.”

“Nope,” You said dismissively.

“Come on, do it for me? You’re our best shooter next to Tommy. There’s a large group of infected near the north that can easily be picked off by two snipers. Tommy’s already up there waiting.”

“I told you I’m not going on anymore patrols.”

“I know, but please, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“I’m not going, Maria. I can’t go.” You shook your head.

“Look, I know why you don’t want to go out, I do, but I really need you to. No one else can do the job as well as you.” It was true. You were Jackson’s best shot next to Tommy. You owed Maria more than a couple favors, it seemed she was cashing in now.

“I’m not going there alone.. I can’t go alone,” You repeated.

“You won’t be alone. I’m having Jesse escort you there. We need you,” Maria negotiated.

“You’re having a kid escort me?”

“Look, Jesse’s more than capable. Just because he’s 17 doesn’t mean he can’t take you up there,” Maria said.

“Will Jesse stay?”

“No. He’s going to meet up with Eugene after to finish patrolling a route,” Maria told you, finally picking up her fork. The second waitress arrived which meant you were off for the rest of the day. It pulled you away from your thoughts. You had been working since three in the morning, helping the restaurant get ready since they opened at four. It was seven now.

“I need someone to stay with me other than Tommy. Someone, someone I trust well,” You replied, your head swimming in what ifs.

Maria sighed, staring down at her food.

“I can ask Joel if he could. He won’t be happy, it’s his first day off in awhile. But just this once I will, okay?” Maria asked you. You breathed out a sigh of relief. You couldn’t say no to Maria. You owed her too much. Even if you tried your hardest to get out of it, it would never work. At least you would be going with someone you trusted. Of course.. you hadn’t seen or talked to Joel in awhile though. Hopefully things wouldn’t be too awkward.

“I haven’t been out in a long time, you know, I probably won’t be the best shot,” You told Maria.

“You’re going on the damn patrol,” Maria glared at you with humor. It was worth a shot.

•••

Joel met up with you an hour later near the stables. He didn’t look happy. Your stomach was doing somersaults thinking about going back out there. You weren’t just nervous, you were terrified.

“I’m sorry I made you come out here to escort me. It’s a stupid job, I know,” You said to him while you were retrieving the horses. You surrendered your horse back to the stables after you left the patrol job, you would rather have someone else take her out then have her stuck in the stables for eternity. Luckily though, she was in for the day.

“Yeah,” Joel grumbled. It stung a little, but you would be angry too having to go out on an escort when it was your first day off in awhile.

You looked down at your feet, the wet mud covering your worn leather boots. “I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t want to do this either.” You said, sounding defeated.

Joel didn’t respond, instead he went off to retrieve his own horse. The stable worker brought you Levia, her dark coat shimmering in the morning sun.

“It’s been awhile since she’s seen you. How long has it been, three or four months?” The stable worker asked, handing you the reins.

You shrugged. “Three months,” You laughed nervously. The worker didn’t know anything of course, no one did.

“Been that long, huh? I think Levia missed you,” The worker said, patting Levia’s side.

“I missed her too.” You gently pulled on the reins and muttered a thanks to the worker. You took Levia outside to the chilly, late autumn air. While you waited for Joel, you gently petted Levia, she neighed softly, you could tell she missed you. You missed her too. You wondered if her new owner was treating her as well. Levia was spoiled with you.

Joel came out of the stables with his own horse, Caesar. Caesar was a stallion with a dark brown coat with white markings near the top of his head. Levia’s coat was completely black.

“I missed you, girl,” You muttered to the horse. Joel led Caesar towards you.

“You ready to go?” He asked.

“I need to log out a couple guns from the armory first. Been a while since I’ve been around here, they change anything for procedures?” You asked, heading towards the armory. Levia and Caesar’s hooves clicked behind you against the mud. Joel walked beside you, standing further away from you then he usually did.

“Not that I know of. It’s not changed since you’ve been out.” Jackson was always changing procedures for how to check things out, especially near the gates.

“That’s good. They might not even recognize me up here,” You joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Joel just shook his head. “Don’t think they would have forgotten you, it’s only been three months.”

“I’m not coming back after this, they probably will,” You said, walking up to the table set up for guns.

Joel began to say something, but you cut him off by talking to the man at the table.

“Two rifles please. One with a scope,” You asked.

“Sure thing,” The man responded, getting up to fetch the two guns.

“You’re not coming back?” Joel questioned behind you. You could practically feel the confusion from him.

“No, I’m not coming back. Already been reassigned to the bar. You haven’t been there in awhile, have you?” You said quickly, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Joel dismissed your question, “Maria told me you were just taking a break?”

“I never said I was taking a break. I’m done with patrolling, Joel.” You turned to face him. Joel looked angry, lied to. You never lied, you simply avoided him for three months.

“You know you could have told me that instead of avoiding me for three months pretending like you were coming back?” Joel glared at you.

“When the hell did I say I was coming back?” You hurled right back, crossing your arms in a defiant stance. This was not how you wanted your morning to go.

“Excuse me, miss, here are the guns,” The man cleared his throat behind you. You swiveled around and took the guns from his hands.

“Thank you. Put our names down for -” You began but were quickly cut off.

“Already done. You guys be safe out there, okay?” The man nodded to you.

“Sure thing. Thanks for the guns.” You hadn’t been forgotten it seemed, at least not yet.

Not wanting to cause any more of a scene, you left quickly, heading towards the gate. You felt bad thinking you had been leading Joel on by letting him think that you were coming back, but truth be told, you never said anything to him. It all got back to him through rumors, rumors ran rampant in Jackson, always had and always will. Which is why you kept your secrets under closed lips, the only one who knew of most of them being Maria.

The gates were opened for you and Joel, and as you stepped out of Jackson a wave of nausea immediately hit, a deep sinking feeling like you weren’t meant to be out there. You took a deep breath, hoping to calm your racing nerves. It was hard to, especially with Joel breathing down your neck. Luckily, he didn’t notice, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

You pulled yourself up onto Levia’s saddle. It felt foreign to be back on a horse. You gently squeezed her side with your feet to tell her it was time to go. Levia was a well trained horse, and immediately started into a slow gallop. Caesar and Joel following behind you.

Levia followed where you lead here, through the dirt paths for a couple minutes until Joel finally spoke.

“You know where you’re going?” Joel’s voice was condescending.

“Yeah. Been there a couple times. It’s common for infected to be in that area this time of year. It’s a sniper's nest. Shouldn’t be too far from here actually. Thirty minute ride at very least,” You responded. It wasn’t worth your time to quip back at him.

“You sure you know where it is?” Joel questioned.

“Course I do,” You snapped back. Looks like it was worth your time.

“Been awhile since you’ve been out here, that’s all.”

“Just because I haven’t been outside the walls in awhile doesn’t mean I have forgotten where to go, Joel,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You were beginning to regret asking Maria to assign Joel to escort you to the nest. And if things went south for you, you weren’t sure Joel would back you up, with the way he was acting towards you, you could tell he was pissed.

It was silent for a few moments. Joel taking in what you said earlier about not returning to patrols.

“Why aren’t you returning?” He asked, his tone much lighter this time.

You bit your tongue, “Patrol work just wasn’t fit for me anymore,” You replied plainly.

“You are our best shot.”

“Look Joel, I just didn’t want to be on patrol anymore, simple as that.” You shut his question down. Of course he would have questions. Everyone did.

Joel didn’t believe it for a second, he knew something was up.

“Haven’t seen Mark in a while either. Where is he? Taking a break too?” Joel questioned. You prayed he would stop bothering you.

“Mark? He’s around. Got taken off patrol too,” You said quickly. You held on tightly to Levia’s saddle in hopes to calm your nerves.

“Maybe I should pay him a visit, been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

“He won’t answer. He’s sick right now,” You lied straight through your teeth.

“Sick. Yep. What does he have?”

“Will you stop bothering me, please?” You barked out, letting anger seep through your clenched teeth. You took a glance behind you at Joel. He looked annoyed, if looks could kill, you would already be dead.

“Sure thing, boss,” Joel told you. You rolled your eyes. This was going to be a long trip.

•••

175 notes · View notes

sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

2388 - Start Log

Pairings: None

Warnings: Murder, Animal Death, Child Death.

---

A/N: This is based on some very vague headcanons I have about Revenant’s past and I wanted to write in a new kind of style.

---

Revenant held the small recording in his hand, his metal fingers stretching at the alloy as he looked at the unmarked, thin chip. It was black and sleek, tiny in the scale of things, but somehow untouched out on that dust bowl planet. His burning orange eyes shifted to focus on it again before he stood from the chair and slammed open the door to the lounge room, leaving with a grumble towards Elliott who was on his way in. The man jumped out of his way with a high-pitched screech and watched him stalk down the hall. Revenant made sure to hunch his plated shoulders before he climbed the stairs and stalked down the hallways of the dorm area, making sure that none of the others were following him before he opened his room and closed the door. It was dark and dusty, but the Simulacrum was quick to pull open his drawers to find the one item he really wanted. The chip reader. He pulled the old technology from the drawer and opened the small insertion plate with a claw. The hole cover popped open and he placed the chip inside and flicked the holoscreen display up. The blue light was dull with age, but it flickered to life before displaying a blurry image and the option to play.

In front of him sat himself. He had relatively short, blond hair pulled back with a fine toothed, ivory comb he remembered buying from a group of hunters. He reached to his chest pockets subconsciously. He always kept it in his breast pocket. With a growl he swiped at the play button and heard it click. For a moment it was quiet as the ghost of himself looked to the high window in the metal wall. He rolled his blue eyes and leaned back in the chair as the sound of a giant, heavy loader holo-vehicle roared. The engines seared the microphone for a moment before the assassin sighed and reached to undo another button of his shirt. There was a discarded head scarf and cloak on the chair behind him as he played with a knife along his fingers. The audio crackled and popped before synching properly and pausing. Revenant hit play again when it was finished and listened.

“Start Log. 2388. It’s been twenty-eight hours since I eliminated the target and counting. I’m in a safe house by the delivery routes back into the city. Shit hole of a back water place. Its barely a city, more of a god forsaken dustbowl. A place like this for a mafia causing so much trouble.” The blond man scoffed at the screen before the sound of a pistol chamber snapping came through the static. He raised the pistol before unscrewing the silencer and pulling the magazine free with a practiced movement, “One bullet to the back of the skull. Executioner style. I capped him in front of his latest little conquest. She screamed a lot. I got blood on my boot covers. They’re camel skin. I better get reimbursed for those.” He took apart the gun with practiced ease, the pieces set along the table in a neat, perfect line, from start to finish, “Anyway. Targets dead and I’m waiting for transport back. Hammond have left me high and dry again, for the third time this year. I wonder what I could do to get some more special treatment from them.” Kaleb grinned with white, perfect teeth, his cheek bones cutting an impressive figure before he reached to touch the scruff along his jaw. He scoffed at it and reached into his waistcoat for a long, thin shaving blade.

The blade slid open and was brandished like a weapon, the metal flashing before he raised it to his cheeks and dragged it over the new stubble, brushing it away onto a small tissue he also had, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to talk around the blade. Revenant reached for his face and ran his fingers over the scratches in his metal cheek bones. He relapsed often into his human habits, not that he would ever admit it.

“I would get it if these guys were some big-league assholes, but they’re barely an issue. I’ve seen worse, but I suppose this is what stealing weapons will get you out here. The Outlands have never been fuckin’ kind.” He threw the slip blade on the table in front of the camera, “I’d know that better than most.” Kaleb looked the camera in the lens, and Revenant wondered if he had been speaking to someone in that moment as his lips twisted in contemplation, “Fuck it. It’s not like anyone will ever find this.” He leaned back in his seat and started to pick up each piece of the pistol, looking them over before he screwed them back together in slow, precise movements of his wrist

“The Outlands is a shit hole. It always has been since Mister Hammond decided to colonize it. Sand, shit and people killing each other. Its always been the same, despite what they all say. Murder, homicide and genocide.” He paused putting together the gun in order to open a small satchel, and pulled free a packet of tobacco and rollers, Kaleb continued to talk as he took the leaves and placed them into a white paper, “Even this shit was fought over. Hybrid tobacco with no tar. Cartels killed villages over it.” The paper crinkled quietly as he put the filter in and rolled it up, tapping the end against the table before he snapped open a metal lighter and lit it, puffing for a moment before he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, “The Outlands are a cess pit, that’s what I’m saying.”

His old self smoked for a while before he held the cigarette in his lips and squinted, getting back to work on fixing the last pieces of the pistol back together with a little grease from another bottle from the satchel, “But its where literally everyone was born now. Earth’s been dead for a long, long time. Including, yes you might have guessed, me.” Kaleb span his pistol and cocked the chamber before he slid the magazine in again and pulled a bullet up into the chamber, “I was born to some power plant family, or so the Matron said. Six months old and they threw me on the doorstep before the plant went bust and blew. I’m not surprised somehow, but the orphanage wasn’t derelict. It was funded for by Hammond. They took kids into the programs there. I wasn’t an exception. I was scouted at fifteen into the special ops program.” A haunting smile spread across his face, “I killed a captain at fourteen, that’s what got me enlisted. It got better though, guns were much easier to use than knives from the kitchen and Matron never did like me taking knives and running with ‘em.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and flicked ash off the end, “Kaleb where has the neighbours dog gone?!” He screeched, “Always nag, nag, nag that woman.” He grumbled as he took another drag, “She probably meant well in the end. Too bad what happened to her as well. I put a pillow over her face when I got enlisted. No survivors allowed. The rest died in the fire.”

The ash was building up in the clear glass ash tray now, “The Matron wanted me to go anyway, its not like she ever loved us or any of that stupid holo-film shit.” He scoffed and played with his cigarette end, “I used to like animals…well, like was a strong word. I used to test them. There was a hundred stray dogs near us, so I used to take pieces of my dinner and see which would come and take it from me. Whichever dog came close, if they could do a trick, then I gave it ‘em. If they followed me, well I used to like knives, you can guess the rest. They’re easy to trick. Cats though, cats were much better fun. I could never get one to come near me. It’s like they knew I had a knife somehow. One came close once, but it got away, screaming, and biting me before it got up a tree. It stayed there the whole day sleeping until I got bored. I didn’t see it again, but I started taking rats and mice from the kitchen for them. They liked the chase I think, just like I did…Or maybe they just liked me killing the dogs, huh?” He let out a long, raspy, dark chuckle before he stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the lens again, “Why the fuck am I spilling my guts to a recording? I’ll be dead if anyone finds this…well, maybe I just want that challenge.”

His finger appeared before he chuckled again and pushed his fingers together, “The days at the academy were boring in comparison. I wasn’t allowed out of the facility. I wasn’t allowed knives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything that I wanted. I choked a boy to death on the mat. The prick decided I was a ‘country bumpkin’, so I decided he wasn’t worth the air he breathed. He was purple when they found him. I was careful, I bleach wiped his neck and my hands. They never knew it was me, but I got harsher training for it. They suspected it was me, but there was no evidence.” Kaleb rolled another cigarette before he rummaged for a can in his bag. He pulled out an all-in-one shake from the pack and drank it down without so much as a minor twitch. Revenant remembered them. They tasted like milk and iron, “Otherwise. I do this because I’m good at it. I always have been good at it. Best in the business. I do the dirty jobs that others won’t because of morals.” He reached for the button, “And that’s about it. End log.” The recording ended as he blew more smoke out of the side of his mouth.

Revenant looked at the black screen for a moment, orange and black optics spinning to adjust, magnifying in and out before he snapped open the port again and tore the chip free, anger burning his chest. He growled and crushed the chip between two clawed fingers. His processors saved the data and he sat back on a chair in order to move and hide the data from those responsible for uploading him. He didn’t need anyone knowing these things. The chip sat in his palm in tiny, crushed pieces of plastic and metal.

“The past is dead.” He muttered before he unlocked the window and threw the pieces out of it, “Its best it stayed buried.” Revenant growled again before he moved to his charging port and slid the wire up into his chasis.

#revenant #kaleb cross #revenant apex legends #apex legends revenant #apex legends #apex #fanfic #character study #my writing #fanfiction

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dovechim · 4 years

Text

a remedy for mondays 03 (m)

01 | 02 | 03

➾ 8k words

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

tl,dr: the part where things start unraveling until they fall apart completely.

➾ warnings: romantic sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, slight dom jimin, shit really hits the fan in this one

➾ a/n: well well well... look who’s back :”) I struggled for months on where to take this, had a breakthrough in the last couple of days and speed wrote this. inspiration is unpredictable! here’s to the first update of 2020, and more to come!

“Is that all you’re having?” Granny asks with a frown as you finish your second bowl of rice after much cajoling from her. “You need to eat more for the baby! Jimin puppy, go get more from the kitchen.”

You stop Jimin with a meaningful frown. All weekend Granny has been feeding you so well that you feel like you’ve already gained weight. If you’re not careful, you’ll be returning to work with a food baby at this rate.

“Oh Granny, no, we’re already late. We need to catch the train back or else we’ll get back too late today,” Jimin grabs your hand in his as he rises from the table, prompting you to follow his lead. “We should get going now. Our stuff’s already by the doorway.”

Granny only lets you go by making Jimin promise to buy you something else to eat at the train station. Just as Jimin’s mother and father are offering to drive you back home themselves, Granny comes bustling toward the front door in a hurry.

“_____ dear, you forgot this!” Granny is holding a small pink pouch that you recognise as your own, containing all your sanitary pads and tampons that you keep with you at all times as a matter of habit.

Your heart skips a beat because you remember that you most definitely didn’t zip it up this morning, and Granny might have gotten a peek into its contents. You scan Granny’s face for any sign of suspicion or even accusation. If you really are pregnant, then you wouldn’t be carrying around sanitary products like this. Could Granny have already caught on that this is entirely a scam?

But the kind old woman merely smiles as she pats your hand warmly.

“You have to come back soon. It was so nice to have you here with us,” is all she says as she envelopes you into a hug. “I’ll send you some food I made later on in the week. You take care of yourself now.”

Strangely enough, Granny doesn’t mention the baby like you thought she would, but before you can think too much about it, Jimin’s father ushers the both of you into his car, and just like that, the weekend spent with Jimin’s family is over.

When you walk into office on Monday morning to find your desk significantly smaller, it’s not because the Monday blues are playing tricks on you. Your things have been shifted to a makeshift desk half the size of your original one, files and papers strewn haphazardly across its surface.

You look around for an explanation, but everyone has their heads down; typing, clicking and scrolling away. No one looks up for a second, not even when you clear your throat. You sort through the mess to find your laptop under it. Previously with your larger desktop screen to work with while poring over spreadsheets and word documents, you already experienced some eye strain, but now with only your laptop, it’s definitely going to get much worse.

Finally, you decide to approach Jung Hoseok, who is part of the Office Facilities Management team.

“Hey, um… Hoseok? What happened to my desk? Was there a reorganisation that I wasn’t informed of?” Your voice is hesitant and small amidst the austere silence of the office.

The bespectacled man takes his time finishing his email before he turns around. His desk is cluttered with all sorts of paraphernalia, from anime figurines to a mini fan and an assortment of snacks. It makes his regular sized table look tiny, not a single inch of bare space can be seen on it. When he finally faces you, he has a bored look on his face.

“Wh- oh. Your table? We had to make some space for some new joiners next month,” he says as he clicks open the floor plan that details everyone’s seating arrangement. He doesn’t let you look at it for long, though, and as cluttered as it is, you only manage to get a fleeting glimpse before he closes the document again. “A few other people’s desks have been shifted too. Count yourself lucky that you’re still in the same spot.”

“But I need more space. For my files, and I need my desktop screen too,” you try in vain to protest, but you can already see Hoseok’s attention drifting away.

“We figured since you’d be going on maternity leave soon, that it made the most sense to shift your desk…” Hoseok glances back at you, his eyes falling very briefly to your still normal sized belly. For a moment, you can see a flicker of curiosity pass over his features, but then it disappears.

And there’s nothing you can really say about that. You can’t say that this entire thing is a ruse that you made up just to get some time off for a concert. When they say life always finds a way, they were damn right. Life always finds a way to bite you in the ass.

Now your desk is the same size as an intern’s. It might sound stupid to anyone else but having a desk in the office is like having a place to call your own. Where you can put up all your decorations, pictures of you and your friends, cards and notes from your friends that helps to make the day a little better.

But you can’t have any of that now, because your new, smaller desk also means that you don’t have a partition on which to put all the decorations anymore. You swallow back the nausea that suddenly rises in your throat. Your new desk is only a few seats away from your previous one, so if you look over, you can still see Jimin’s head over the partition. He seems to sense that you are looking in his direction, as his eyes peek over the partition and meet yours. You don’t have to see the rest of his face to know that he is currently pouting on your behalf.

You try to ignore how cramped your workspace is and sit down to check your emails, throwing yourself into your work. Your back is facing the aisle, and when people walk up and down, you can feel their curious glances on your back.

Nevertheless, the weekend spent with Jimin’s family has reenergised you somewhat, and you’re able to work for two hours without getting distracted or feeling tired. In the middle of the morning, you suddenly hear a commotion from one of the other teams.

“Oh my god, this year’s bonus is great!! Thank you!!” The Finance team’s newest joiner, Kim Soo-Jung, squeals as she hugs her phone to her chest. “It’s the most I’ve ever had!”

“You all deserve your performance bonus,” the leader of the Finance team, Min Yoonji, says with a proud smile. “You’ve been the best team so far. It’s just an incentive!”

Upon hearing their conversation, you pick up your phone to log in and check your pay slip in a hurry, wondering just how much of a performance bonus you’ll get. Thinking back to all the late nights you spent, weekends burnt and lunches wasted at work, you begin to feel optimistic for the first time in a long while.

But when you scroll down to see the number at the bottom of the page, it remains the same as usual. No increments. No bonus at all. You check that you have the correct month’s payslip loaded, and there’s no mistake.

All around you, people are checking their payslips with excitement on their faces, huddling around with their teams and comparing amounts.

Jeongguk leaps out of his chair, fists raised to the ceiling as he grins uncontrollably. “Yes!!! Best day ever!!!”

“You got a bonus too?” You can’t help but question, seeing as he seems to be the most relaxed one out of your team when it comes to work. He goes home on time every day, takes a long lunch every day, and probably doesn’t even know what overtime is. If even Jeon Jeongguk can get a bonus and you can’t…

“Yeah, didn’t you get one?” He says nonchalantly.

“I did,” you mumble as you turn back to your computer, putting away your phone and ending the conversation in a hurry in case he asks how much bonus you got.

The rest of the morning passes in a slight blur as you try to distract yourself from the burning unfairness of the whole situation. When your stomach reminds you that it’s time for lunch, you glance up to see Jimin walking towards your table with a smile.

“Lunch?” He asks, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

You blink out of a slight daze, realising that you were lost in your thoughts for the past few minutes. Your eyes focus back on the email pulled up on your screen, reading the title hastily.

FREE HEALTH CHECKUP FOR ALL STAFF

“Did you see this email?” You ask, and Jimin places one hand on your desk, leaning in so that his chin hovers directly above your head. The whole proximity of his body is giving you butterflies as he casually drops a kiss on the top of your head before replying.

“Yeah, I did. Wanna sign up for the same day together?”

“You sure you wanna go for it?” You can’t help but have a weird feeling about this as you scroll through the email, reading through all the details. It’s a free health checkup for all staff provided through a mobile health clinic, for selected days and times only.

“Yeah, why not?” Jimin shrugs as he straightens up again. “It’s free. Health checkups like this would normally cost a bomb.”

“I’m afraid they might… you know. Find out about this,” you voice lowers to a whisper towards the end of your sentence, but from the way your gaze drops to your middle, Jimin’s face dawns with recognition.

“Baby, healthcare professionals are obligated to maintain individual privacy. They can’t divulge anything about your health to anyone,” Jimin reassures in a whisper, bending down beside you so that you can look at him more comfortably, stroking your hand in your lap.

You’re still new to this public display of affection, but luckily, the office is pretty empty since everyone has left for lunch. You’re not entirely convinced about this health checkup thing, but then again, it could just be your paranoia from all the bad things that have already occurred this morning. After all, you firmly believe that bad things happen in threes. And right now, you’re on strike two.

Taking a deep breath, you smile at him, pushing away any other thoughts. “You’re right. This is perfectly fine. Which slot should we go for?”

A few clicks later, you close your laptop and reach for your wallet, taking Jimin’s hand as you walk out of office with a few of your colleagues’ admiring gazes on your backs.

“Deep breath please… one, two, three… and out…”

You can feel the cold metal of the stethoscope through your thin blouse as the doctor listens to your breathing. While he does this, you’re left staring at the medical information that you filled out on the form at the beginning of the session, your heart rate speeding up when it comes to the question:

Are you currently pregnant, or expecting? Yes/ No

Your hands start to sweat, and the doctor seems to notice. Dr Cha Eun Woo withdraws the stethoscope and places it back around his neck.

“Is everything going okay for you? You seem a little stressed. Problems at work?” He smiles jovially as he records something down on his clipboard.

“Um… yeah, kind of. The usual stress, you know,” you gesture vaguely, wanting this entire thing to be over as soon as possible. You add in a laugh for good measure.

Dr Cha makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat as he reaches for your medical form, scanning through it briefly. “Let’s see… no health problems, you’re exercising often, you don’t smoke, only the occasional drink here and there. Sexual history is… active, but you’re not pregnant, nor planning to become in the near future, am I right?”

You visibly tense up at his question, and the lack of a response causes him to look up at you.

“Did I say something wrong?” His smile turns into a concerned frown. “I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable. It’s just the standard questions that we ask all who come in for a checkup.”

You shake your head and attempt to unclench your fists. Jimin is right. This is a medical healthcare professional who is just doing his job. He isn’t asking you because he wants to report you to the company or anything.

“No, definitely not pregnant,” you answer him confidently, conveniently leaving out the answer to the second part of his question.

But Dr Cha seems satisfied, and he reaches to unwrap the blood pressure cuff from your arm. “Alright then. I guess we’re done here. I’ll just let the nurse take a blood sample from you, and we’ll have the results sent to you over text message in about a week or so.”

You were just about to get up from your seat, but you freeze in your tracks. “Bl-blood sample?”

“To check your cholesterol levels, blood count, and generally things that we can’t detect through a physical check-up alone. Is there… is there a problem?”

You almost say that you’re scared of needles, but then how childish would that sound?

Dr Cha is still looking at you expectantly, and there’s really no good reason for you to refuse. So you paste on a smile and let the nurse draw some blood from the crook of your elbow, and then you are out of the mobile health clinic.

As you come down the stairs of the van, Jimin is waiting outside for you, having had his turn just before. You stumble a little on the last step, and he rushes forward to catch you.

“Are you okay?” Jimin’s grasp around you is tight as he sets you down carefully on the ground, pulling back to examine your face.

“I’m fine, just got a little excited for it to be over,” you squeeze his arm lightly, overly aware of your colleagues waiting in the vicinity of the mobile health clinic. Of one pair of eyes in particular, as she walks up to the two of you.

“You should really be more careful, ______! Especially in your condition,” Jihyo from Communications tsks as she appraises the both of you with admiration in her eyes. “Isn’t it great that we have this though? I’m sure having an extra health check wouldn’t hurt for the baby!”

Her probing eyes then travel down to your midriff, and you can see that she is just bursting with curiosity. Before she gets the chance to ask any more questions, however, Jimin puts an arm around you and gives her a polite smile.

“Thank you for your concern, but we should be getting back to work now,” Jimin gives her a small bow. “I hope your health check-up goes well. See you back in the office.”

He turns you around and you are all too glad to follow, leaving the whispers and curious glances behind.

“_____? Could I have a quick minute please?” Kim Namjoon from HR smiles pleasantly, as you look up to find him at your desk.

You save the spreadsheet you’d been working on and give him a nod, getting up to follow him to one of the meeting rooms. On the way in, you make eye contact with Jimin, seeing his curious head pop up from behind his partition.

“How’s everything been going for you lately?” Kim Namjoon smiles stiffly as he sits down, lacing his fingers together. “Pregnancy going okay?”

“Um…” You hesitantly take a seat across him, wondering what this could be about. It definitely isn’t one of those ‘how-are-you’ conversations between two colleagues. The very fact that Kim Namjoon is part of HR makes you wary.

He’s still waiting for an answer though, so you give him a weak smile and nod.

“Thanks for your concern… was that all you wanted to ask me today?”

Kim Namjoon looks down for a second, the expression on his face wavering, before he clears his throat. “Actually, no. There is one more thing. It’s about the medical check-up we did last week.”

At the mention of the medical check-up, your heart begins racing, and you consciously force yourself to breathe.

“We received some information from one of the employees about your medical check-up. While having their medical check-up, they happened to see the medical form that you filled up, and the information that they came across seems to be indicating that you are not otherwise pregnant.”

Strike. Three.

The room suddenly feels like all the air has been sucked out of it. It’s hard to breathe, let alone form a conscious thought.

Kim Namjoon continues, “as you may realise, even though this concerns your private medical information, because there is a rumour that you are engaging in fraud, we are required for audit purposes to investigate this. But I wanted to give you a chance to come clean about it before we request a court order for your medical information to be released to the company officially. I trust that you understand that it would be labourious for all parties involved to go through a lawsuit like that.”

The seconds drag out, and you realise that he is waiting for your response. Your eyes dart around the room, and it occurs to you that you are trapped. There is no way to escape, no way to get out of this situation unscathed.

The jig is up, your secret is out.

“But I… the doctor…” you are tripping over your own words in an attempt to make a coherent argument against him. Something that will explain away everything.

“Give it up, Ms ______. You aren’t really pregnant, are you? You should be further along by now, but you clearly aren’t. Are you aware that you are committing fraud?” Kim Namjoon stands up and leans over the table, his stern eyes fixed on you.

“My medical records should not have been exposed like that,” you argue back, suddenly finding courage from somewhere within you. You’re not going down without a fight. “Anything that I discuss with my doctor is private and confidential. That doctor is in the wrong in the first place for just leaving my information out in the open!”

Kim Namjoon sighs deeply and massages his temples. He sits down with a heavy thud, remaining silent for a moment.

“Fine. I guess we’re doing it the difficult way then.” He pushes his chair back slightly and crosses his legs. “Let’s just say that we received a report that you may be committing fraud. In the name of the law, we are authorised to access your medical records, for investigation purposes. If you really have nothing to hide, you would have no problem letting us see those records, wouldn’t you?”

This asshole is just backing you into a corner. There are a thousand reasons why you might want to keep your medical records private, but he’s using it to accuse you of fraud.

Which you technically are committing, but still…

“Do you really want to drag this to court?” He asks quietly, mistaking your silence for fear instead of anger. “If we do that, then everyone in the company will know that you committed fraud. Your reputation will be ruined. It’ll be on your permanent record. No company will ever employ you after that, you realise?”

He leans forward again, his stare intense as his mouth sets in a firm line. “But if you just admit that you aren’t really pregnant now, and that you made it all up, we won’t have to go there. We can settle this between you and the company, reach an agreement through negotiation. It’s a win-win arrangement for both of us.”

Wait a minute. Is he really…

“Think about it for a second. Do you really want everyone to know about this?”

Well, if he puts it like that… then…

You find it hard to talk past the lump in your throat. “I…”

“All you have to say is: ‘I faked my pregnancy’. That’s all, Ms _______,” Kim Namjoon cajoles. “It’s really that simple.”

Even though you know he is manipulating you, backing you into a corner and giving you a choice between a rock and a hard place… there’s just no other way out of it. Finally, your shoulders deflate and you sink back against the chair in defeat.

“I faked my pregnancy. I’m not pregnant at all.” Your voice is smaller than it has ever been. In all your years working at this company, you don’t think any other moment will ever top this one in terms of humiliation.

“Thank you, Ms _______. You may go now. I will be in touch with you regarding the next steps.” Kim Namjoon smiles, a pointy, satisfied little smile as he stands up to show you the door. Just as you are gathering your composure and getting ready to step outside again, he hits you with another blow. “I think you should take the rest of the week off.”

“The- rest of the week?” You turn to him in surprise. “Am I… is this a suspension?”

“You could think of it as one, yes.” He clears his throat and pushes his glasses to sit higher up on his nose. “We need some time to discuss the appropriate disciplinary measures. Meanwhile, you should enjoy your time off. It was the whole reason why you invented this story, isn’t it?”

The nerve of him. You can’t even hit him, because now he has opened the door and the rest of the office would bear witness to you trying to murder Kim Namjoon. All you can do is smile tightly at him, try to keep the tears from being too obvious as you walk to your workstation, hastily pack up your things, and leave with your tail in between your legs.

“Everyone is talking about me at work, aren’t they?” You pace back and forth in the kitchen, wringing your hands as Jimin prepares dinner at your stove. “They will all know by now. Fucking Park Jihyo. She would have told everyone the second she left that clinic.”

“People aren’t talking about you,” Jimin says calmly, stirring the simmering beef stew.

“And I only just found out now?” Your voice rises in hysteria, hands tangled in your hair as you groan in frustration. “I’ve been walking around like a clown for the past week. They must have had a good laugh about me. I can only imagine the things they’re saying about me now-“

“______, no one has said anything about this-“

“And don’t even get me started on that fucker Kim Namjoon,” you grab the radish sitting on the counter, just because you need something to wave around for emphasis. “He practically manipulated me into making a confession. I’m pretty sure that’s called blackmailing, especially when he doesn’t even have concrete proof. You know, I should have sued that piece of sh-“

“Hey, try this piece of carrot. Is it soft enough for you?” Jimin turns to you with a ladle, expression totally calm, and it only infuriates you even more. His reaction to all of this is entirely unprecedented. You expected him to spring to your defence and storm into the office and beat that fucker to a pulp.

“How are you so calm about this?” You demand, pushing his arm away from you. “Do you not understand the gravity of the situation right now?”

“I do, and I’m anything but calm, trust me,” Jimin sighs as he puts the ladle back into the pot. “But if I freak out too, then there won’t be anyone to help you get through this. You need to stay strong to get through this. And to do that, you need to eat. You’re stressing yourself out and it’s taking a toll on you.”

He insistently offers the piece of carrot to you again, and you reluctantly open your mouth. The carrot is soft and savoury, the taste of gravy melting on your tongue. Jimin raises an eyebrow, watching you chew.

“It’s good,” you say reluctantly, feeling your aggravation slowly calm down as Jimin smiles serenely.

It’s only then that you realise how long it has been since you last ate. After leaving early, all you did was searching the internet for various HR policies, doctor-patient confidentiality laws, and even job sites. A wave of fatigue washes over you as you slowly sink into a chair, feeling lightheaded.

“You need to eat,” Jimin says again, plating up the stew in a bowl and serving rice to go with it. “You’re going to worry yourself sick at this rate.”

He sits down opposite you, hair ruffled from the long day at work, and top buttons on his white dress shirt undone. His glasses are perched on his nose, and they fog up adorably when he leans forward to take a whiff of the stew. He picks up his spoon, looking up at you with an expectant gaze, and you follow suit.

Satisfied, Jimin begins to dig in ravenously, but all you can do is watch. Your shoulders feel heavy, the nausea is back again, and the last thing you want to do is eat.

“Jimin… I can’t,” you say, setting your spoon down. But your voice is no longer angry. “I can’t stop thinking, what’s going to happen now? Am I going to lose my job? Will they sue me? I can’t- I can’t afford to lose this job, the economy is really bad now, and- “

The anxiety has you at a breaking point, and you are nearly in tears.

“Just look at me, okay?” Jimin abandons his food in favour of holding your hand. “Nothing is for sure yet. We don’t know anything. And until we hear from them, there’s no point in thinking about it. Worrying about it now means that you suffer twice. And no matter what, I’ll be by your side. Okay?”

When you don’t say anything, it prompts Jimin to get out of his seat and get on his knees beside your chair, turning you around to face him. When he sees that his words aren’t getting through to you at all, he scrambles around for something else to say. Anything that would make things better.

“What can I do? What do you need?” Jimin can only see your pain as you close your eyes, trying in vain not to cry, again. “Tell me what I need to do to make things better.”

For a moment, you can’t think of anything. But amidst all the racing possibilities of you losing your job, getting sued, and possibly never finding another job again, you just want one thing.

“I just want to stop thinking. All these what ifs… I just want them to go away,” your vision becomes blurry with tears.

“I can do that,” Jimin stands and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. He pauses for a moment so that you can see how plush his lips look, the way his lidded eyes are focused only on you, before all you know is the feeling of his lips on yours. “Just focus on me.”

He breaks the kiss a little sooner than you would have liked, only to kiss your forehead, and you stretch out your arms to him. You cling to him like a koala as he continues to kiss down your neck, swirling his tongue against your skin and wetting it with his saliva, sucking bruises into your skin as he does so. He blindly walks the two of you into the bedroom, setting you down gently before he continues to kiss down your body, pushing your shirt up so that he can see your bare breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, always so pretty for me,” he says as he cups both breasts in his hands, flicking at your nipples. This elicits a whine from you. “I love how you’re so sensitive when I play with your nipples just like this. Even better when I suckle on them.”

He wraps his plump lips around your right nipple and starts to suck, and it feels as if you’ve never had another man treat your breasts with such reverence before. Park Jimin is suckling from you as if it’s the last meal he’ll ever get, switching sides to ensure that both breasts receive equal attention.

“And I love this waist, just the perfect size for me to wrap my arms around,” Jimin drags his tongue down to your belly button, kissing and sucking your skin. “Even better to hold on to when I fuck your pretty little pussy.”

“Jimin, I-“

“I’m getting there, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you.” He smiles against your skin as he kisses lower and lower, till he is at the hem of your shorts. He pulls it down in one motion, and your thighs fall open almost immediately, desperate for his attention.

“I love the sounds you make when I eat you out. How are you this wet when I haven’t even touched you here yet?” Jimin makes it a point to let you know just how wet you are by sliding two fingers through your core, then pulling them apart to show you the strings between his two fingers. “You want me to eat your pussy?”

“Yes, fuck, I want you to eat me out,” your thighs are quivering in his grasp, and he needs no further prompting.

He starts with a flat lick against your clit, feeling you gasp and sob above him. Then he dips down for a taste of your core, alternating between licking and sucking to make sure he gets every drop of your sweetness. Two fingers spread your lips to open you up even more for him.

“That’s it, baby, look at me. Just focus on me,” he directs your attention to him, holding eye contact as he starts to eat you out again, plump lips against your pussy as he devours every inch of you. The tension in your belly heightens, and it’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him. It’s sinful to watch him eating you out like this, between your legs like a man starved. The only thoughts in your mind right now are of Park Jimin, and nothing else.

“I’m so close, please,” you plead with him. “Fingers. I need you to-“

“Shhh, I got you,” Jimin switches his attention on your clit while he buries two fingers in your cunt, and the burn feels good. “Shit, that’s tight, baby. How are you gonna take my cock?”

“Make it fit,” you widen your thighs and grind on his fingers, almost riding his tongue in the process.

“You bet I will,” he says with a dark look that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and then the rest of his efforts are dedicated to sending you over the edge. The combination of his tongue on your clit and his fingers expertly reaching your sweet spot effectively snaps the knot in your lower belly, and you clench around him with a moan, hips rising off the bed.

Jimin does not let up on your clit, he helps you to ride out your orgasm as you pant and gasp, until your legs feel boneless and the aftershocks are making them twitch.

“There we go, it’s okay… you did so well,” Jimin withdraws his fingers and sucks on them, stroking your inner thigh with his other hand. “You always look pretty when you cum.”

You close your thighs for a moment to catch your breath, feeling his soothing touch still reminding you that he’s always by your side. You know that you are far from satisfied, though, and a few seconds later, you open your eyes and sit up, glancing at the tell-tale bulge in his pants.

“Can I ride you?” You ask directly, and if Jimin is taken aback, he doesn’t show it.

“Shit, it would be my pleasure,” Jimin is all too glad to push his dress pants down, lying down with his thick thighs spread. With your help, he gets rid of his boxer briefs, and you immediately seize his cock, pumping it a few times and feeling your mouth water. When you lower your mouth towards it, he reprimands you with a tap on your ass.

“What did you ask for?” He raises an eyebrow, and though you are dying to taste him on your tongue, you can tell that he is one of his dominant moods, and it would be best not to cross him right now. “I want to see you bouncing on my cock. Now.”

You line him up with your entrance, feeling his precum make things even wetter than they already are. Jimin has his hands on your hips, not being able to resist grabbing handfuls of your ass as you lower yourself down on him. He enjoys the cute little grimace you always make when he enters you for the first time, always needing a while to get used to his girth no matter how many times you fuck.

He mostly lets you set the pace but applies a subtle pressure with his hands to guide you down on his cock. Once you reach the base, he rewards you with a kiss to the forehead before lying back down again.

“Shit, you take my cock so fucking well,” he says with pride, leaning back as he watches you start to grind your hips. Your pace gets faster very quickly, and soon you are bouncing on him sinfully, giving him the front row seat of his life.

Your cheeks are flushed, breasts bouncing as you fuck yourself on him, desperate little whines escaping your throat as you try to get him as deep as possible.

“Tell me how much you love my cock,” he demands, hands around your waist to guide your movements.

“I- I fucking love it,” you say immediately, knowing all too well his need for validation. “I love your cock so much- it feels so fucking good. Oh god, fuck, I can’t-“

“Just keep riding, baby, you can do it,” Jimin starts to thrust up into you at the same time, sensing your dipping energy levels. “My baby always does so well on my cock.”

But the previous orgasm has sucked everything out of you. You can feel it so close, but yet so far at the same time. You need this release so badly, but it’s just not enough.

“Look at me, eyes on me baby,” Jimin commands your attention, making you open your eyes as he sits up, his hand on your chin. “Just focus on me. I got you, I promise.”

And you know he’s not just referring to this moment alone.

He flips the both of you over, your hands are pinned to the bed by your head as he maintains eye contact with you, taking over and fucking into your pussy with incredible stamina and speed. He brings both of your hands above your head and secures them down with one hand, and the other slides down to rub your clit.

You can feel every inch of his cock as he pounds you into the mattress, so deep that it feels like it might even hit your womb. Jimin draws back a little so that he can wrap his hands tenderly around your waist, subconsciously stroking your lower belly gently as he fucks into you. Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist because you don’t ever want this to stop. Letting go of all control, surrendering every thought, every worry to him so that he can take care of you like this, that’s what makes everything better.

“Can you cum for me? Wanna feel you, one more time,” his voice his soft now, any edge of dominance gone now as he pushes your legs back. “Cum around me before I fill your sweet pussy.”

“Yes, please, I want you to cum inside,” you wrap your arms around him, wanting to please him so badly. His fingers on your clit are pinching and stroking as he fucks deep into your cunt, and with a shout, you are spasming around him, ecstasy singing through your veins as you let the feeling of his cock filling you full of his cum wash away any other thoughts. The feeling of his cock pulsing as your walls become sticky and warm, his gentle thrusts as he milks his orgasm for all its worth, till the last spurt of cum deep inside your pussy where it belongs.

“Oh shit, that’s my baby, taking all my cum like a good girl,” Jimin kisses your forehead fondly, pulling out of you carefully to admire his handiwork. You would tease him for his cum obsession, except that it’s grown on you too. Spreading your lips with two fingers, you clench your muscles to push out his cum, and you can feel it slowly dripping down to your entrance, until it seeps out in a thick stream.

“Fuck, looks good enough to eat,” Jimin licks his lips as he glances at you, before diving down to catch the cum on his tongue before it can hit the bedsheets under you. And he cleans your sore and swollen pussy up gently, lapping his own cum with every lick.

“Jimin…” your whine makes him stop, giving you a final kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Come to bed. I’m tired.”

Jimin can get carried away sometimes, especially when it comes to eating you out, or tasting himself on you. But at your reminder, he leaves his position between your legs and snuggles beside you, giving a cute little grin before he claps twice, and then the lights are out.

And you sink into the best sleep you’ve had in ages.

But good things never last, and when you next wake up, the bed is cold and empty.

Jimin must have left for work already. A single glance at the clock tells you that it is past 10am, and you sit up slowly, feeling the ache from last night. The bed is cold, the room is empty as you make the lonely tread to the bathroom. But a last-minute wave of nausea quickens your steps, and soon you are kneeling at the porcelain altar.

When you finish, wiping the back of your mouth with your hand, you are lightheaded and can barely think. Everything feels like a blur, but you didn’t even drink last night, haven’t been since you and Jimin agreed that you would let fate take its course when it comes to putting a bun in your oven.

The very thought of it makes you retch again. It’s the entire reason why you’re home and not at work in the first place, and you can’t stop feeling like a fucking fool about all this. Flushing the toilet, you force yourself onto your feet, make some attempt at washing up.

The doorbell rings, and the unprecedented visitor catches you off-guard. But it’s just the delivery man with a hefty package, and he when he sees your sick complexion and raccoon eyes, he offers to come inside and set it down on your kitchen counter.

When he leaves, you tear the box open, curious because you don’t remember ordering anything from Amazon. God, you really hope this isn’t the result of one of your drunken online shopping sessions. If you’re about to lose your job, you really don’t need another hefty bill on your shoulders.

But it’s not anything from Amazon. It’s Granny’s side dishes, from the delicious cucumber kimchi you fell in love with during your visit, to the savoury japchae that makes your mouth water as soon as you smell the sesame fragrance. There’s even a note with instructions telling you how to store everything and how to heat it up when you want to eat it.

You don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve Granny’s kindness, when all you’re doing is just scamming her and giving her the false hope of a grandchild. Tears are brimming, and you push the box away, unable to deal with your lies at this moment.

You head to your desk and sit down.

Because you can’t stop yourself, you click on your email- both personal and work. The first thing you see in your work email makes your nausea threaten to blur your vision.

From: Kim Namjoon (HR)

Cc: All Departments

NOTICE FOR IMMEDIATE DISMISSAL

Dear ______,

I am writing with regard to your disciplinary action regarding your act of fraud. After much discussion, we have decided that the transgression you have committed against this company have been deemed unforgivable. As a result, we have no choice but to request your immediate dismissal.

As for your one-month notice, we have decided that the monetary cost that your fraud has incurred has surpassed any compensation that you might be entitled to.

Your termination is effective immediately.

We thank you for your service thus far.

Best regards,

Kim Namjoon

That piece of-

He cc’ed the entire company. Even though he very clearly said you could work something out with them. It was a lie all along, he never had the intention of this being a win-win arrangement. You stare at the last line of the email with growing derisiveness. Thank you for your service? What kind of bullshit-

The nausea rises up in your throat again, and you have to run to make it to the bathroom. It’s not a nice feeling to be dry heaving when you have absolutely nothing in your system, but the whole act of it takes more out of you than you realised. This is it. This is your lowest point; nothing could ever surpass it.

Your phone is ringing somewhere in your bedroom, and right now the distance between the bathroom and your bed seems insurmountable. It’s probably Jimin. God, how badly you want this to be him, so you drag yourself on all fours until your hands are scrabbling in the mess of blankets to find your phone.

But when you pick up, it’s not Jimin’s honeyed voice that greets you. It’s a cold, sterile, clinical one.

“Ms _______?”

Thrown off guard, you confirm your identity to the stranger. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think that it might be someone from the company, calling to tell you that there’s been a mistake.

It’s due time for a lucky break in your life, right?

But no chance.

“I’m calling with your blood test results from the mobile health clinic about a week or so ago.”

The health check-up that effectively ended your life? Alright.

“Um, okay. What about it?”

“Miss, did you know that you are currently pregnant?”

The world screeches to a stop. But the train of bad news crashes on.

“You indicated on your form that you weren’t pregnant. But your blood test results indicate that you are about two, nearly three weeks along now. Is this a concern that you might need to come in for?”

The white of the tiles in your bedroom suddenly look too bright. The room is spinning, and everything is moving too fast for you to catch up.

“Hello? Miss? Are you still there?”

The ringing tone of another incoming call interrupts her, and Jimin’s picture lights up on your screen.

“I… I have to go.” You press the end call button before staring at Jimin’s bright, happy smile on your phone.

The irony of the situation is the story of your life. It’s just a little too late. It’s always a little too late.

"He-hello? Jimin?”

“Baby! Are you okay? You didn’t pick up, and I was worried-”

You can’t sit here at your desk anymore, with the email just mocking you, the reminder of your fraud hanging in the balance. So you press the phone to your ear and get up, pacing to the kitchen. But then you see Granny’s side dishes waiting on the table, and you feel even sicker.

“How bad is it right now?” You get straight to the point.

Judging from the way he stutters, you know he is trying to scrape together a lie. And then it suddenly hits you. You involved him in this mess, and all this while you’ve only been thinking about yourself. While you were busy freaking out yesterday and needing him to calm you down, you neglected to be there for him at all. You didn’t even think if HR would have their own consequences for him.

Because you swear if Kim Namjoon touches a hair on Park Jimin’s head, you’ll kill him.

He is saying something about some announcement made this morning that didn’t mention you specifically. You stop him before he can sweat any further about how to soften the blow.

“Jimin, listen to me. Did they- did they do anything to you?”

“Me?” Jimin sounds taken aback for a moment. “Why would they-? No! I’m fine. Listen, baby. I thought of a way you can get out of this. We’ll just tell them it was a miscarriage. That’ll explain why you’re not pregnant, but you technically were before, so it’s not a lie, and-”

Even in times like this, all Park Jimin can think about is you. He is selfless, and you don’t deserve him either. He sounds so hopeful about this, as if he believes it will really work. But most of all, you are reminded of how happy he looked that night at his parent’s house, when you and him decided that you would commit to having a baby together. How happy he would be if he knew that you were really...

“-or if you want me to say it for you, I will. I’ll just set up a meeting with Kim Namjoon, and you don’t even have to come in. I just wanted to run this by you first, and-“

“No!” The knee jerk response results in you yelling over the phone. You can’t let him drag himself further into your mess any longer, you refuse to implicate him any further. But your desperation makes your voice come out harsher than you intended to, and the words just slip out. “Jimin- just… stay out of my shit, alright? You’ve done enough. I need to handle this alone.”

There is a stunned silence over the end of the line. “We need to… we need to end this. This whole relationship is a fraud, anyway, now everyone knows and… you better go. Before they find out you’re talking to me.” You wince even as you say the words, knowing that they are not in the slightest bit true. But you need to do this, you need to separate yourself from him before the selflessness of his heart gets him into trouble trying to clean up a mess that isn’t even his.

“I… yeah. I think I should go too.” His voice is nothing like the soft, warm kindness that you have come to associate with Park Jimin. It is cold, formal and it feels like ice shoots straight through your heart as you listen to him say the next words. “Uh, good luck with everything, then.”

And then the line goes dead.

#bts smut #bts #park jimin #bts jimin smut #ksmutclub

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years

Text

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 2

(This chapter has been rewritten/ edited since original post)

General Notice: I’m trying to get more works out during this time that is rough for all of us. That being said I am trying to keep it’s quality up.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux's 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

I’m trying something with this and I’m not sure how it’s going to work so any feedback will be appreciated whether through comments, or anon asks. I did something similar in my Gone and left your world series were it had ~~~ in it and it either jumped, went to a flashback or dream. I did that here and it’s for the past/dream.

This was originally going to be three different small chapters but wanted to reduce the number of chapters and decided to explain stuff I couldn’t through the ‘present’ basically context and junk.

as these parts are split up I can make a post where there all together and link it here if anyone wants.

Also they are so many parallels from my other series and some weren’t intentional.

Warnings: Slight smut, nightmare, murder and all that good stuff. (Everything is tame)

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

She gave you the job without a second thought, thrilled to have her friend back in her life. This time around, it was different. The way she interacted with you, there was more behind every touch, every word she said. You had danced around your feelings for her from the second you fell for her. You didn't know you were gay; you had never liked anyone before and haven't since. Maybe you weren't. Maybe it was just her. She was the only thing your heart desired. No one else seemed appealing. She was straight, she got married to a man and a vile man at that. No one liked him in Cordelia's close circle, but you were all nice for her sake. However, her mother was always vocal about how he detested the man. She wasn't the hugest fan of you either, but you had something worth wide in her eyes, power.

You weren't one to force your feelings upon people, you didn't want to burden her with the knowledge that her long-time best friend was in love with her. Knowing how she was back then; she would blame herself for you falling for her. You didn't want that. Keeping it a secret was better.

She asked you about your time away, but you were reluctant to tell. It was a blur, nothing notable ever happened or at least that's what you told her. "I spent most of your time at your flat." And some ramblings on about jobs so she didn't grow concerned.

You were offered a job here a few years back by her mother about the time Cordelia was blinded. You jumped at the opportunity but as you went to take the job, the balance of the world shifted. Something dark was living on our earth and growing with power. You tasked yourself with discovering it before it discovered your fellow witches or any other good on the planet.

Something told you that the answer to some of your woes would be found with the source of power. The self-appointment job was a failure and you found yourself at the place you ditched it for.

It had been a couple of weeks since you got hired. You sat cross-legged in Cordelia's room on the love seat marking some of the girls' work. Papers scattered on the ground and the couch you had been sleeping on. Cordelia had yet to give you a bedroom.

"Are you sure you're comfortable on the love seat? Wouldn't you prefer sleeping on the bed?" She would say. Her desire for you to join her on the bed masked in such a way that your tired brain couldn't register as her quietly begging for you to join her. In your head, she was still married. She had mentioned multiple times that her and her ex broke up but a month or two doesn't rewrite years in your mind.

You had finished your marking an hour ago and had moved onto Zoe's to ease her workload. She managed to get behind, having double the classes you had that day as well as having to plan her work next week. You thought it was a nice thing to do. While, you were trying to distract your brain. Stopping working forced you to think and that hadn't gone well for you in the past. Countless nights spent in denial, regretting what could have been if only you had spoken up. Stayed away from the school. Ignored your mother's letter. Those thoughts were less common now. Instead, your mind flooded with thoughts of what was wrong with your body. Why your growth had remained preserved at the ripe age of 18- if that.

You threw another log on the fire before heading back to the marking. You focused on the flames using your pyrokinesis to refuel the fire. You smiled at a successful job done. Another hour passed and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Strong hands gripped your shoulders.

"You're still up Y/N/N?" You looked over your shoulder to face Cordelia. "It's nearly 3."

You checked your watch. She was right, you didn't notice the time pass.

"I'm marking-"

"Zoe's work. I know, she informed me." Cordelia gathered some of the work on the seat moving it to the floor.

"Don't put them near the unmarked ones," you call out as she does so. She moved them instantly away from the unmarked ones. Taking the seat next to you, she removed the paper and pen from your hands and set it with the other papers. "Delia?"

She shushed you, pulling you closer to her. The two of you stared at the fireplace, the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room. The students were long asleep as the two of you should have been. She shuffled even closer to you. She eased your head into her shoulder, her hand finding it's place in on your head, playing with your locks.

"I appreciate that you offered to help Zoe with her work, but you do need a break too-"

"I get breaks-"

"That don't involve studying magic?" Okay maybe not. She knew you too well. Magic was your life, what else do you need? "You barely get any proper sleep. You sleep on this uncomfortable chair which is too small for you to sleep on."

"It's fine-"

"No, it's not. You're sleeping on my bed tonight. No question."

"Where will you sleep?"

"On my bed."

"But-"

"It's big enough for the two of us and it's not the first time we've shared a bed." You blushed thinking back on the few times you've shared a bed with her. Cordelia chuckled at your reaction. "You're too cute." You got redder. You begged her to stop but she kept going. She eventually ended it when you got too loud but not before she attacked you with tickles. You both were dying of laughter, you were surprised no one came to see what was going on. "Okay, bedtime." She patted your leg before rising from her spot. She laid a handout for you to take it. You yawned. "Come on captain sleepy."

"That was stupid."

"Shut up."

You yawned again, "A goodnight's sleep does sound nice and your bed is really soft."

Cordelia led you into her wardrobe, forcing you to rest on an ottoman while she retrieved pyjamas for you. She came back to you half asleep propped up against the wall. She chuckled not wanting to wake you up. She ended up shaking you awake lightly, handing you the a long sleeve shirt and pants. Without complaint, you changed into the clothes as she got herself ready for bed.

Once tucked comfortably into her bed, you wiggled about to get comfortable. She hopped in beside you, pulling you closer to her before she covered herself in her sheets. You stilled and cleared your mind for a peaceful slumber. As the night progressed you found yourself growing closer to the warm body beside you.

~~~

"Catch her! Stop Y/N!" People shouted as you ran through people's heaven's gate crashing and accidentally destroying them in the process. You jumped from room to room, hiding amongst people's belongings to lose the guards chasing you.

The group zoomed past. You sighed before stepping out of your hideaway. The air was musky, you got the sense you weren't home anymore. Your powers were unhinged, unable to control them was becoming more dangerous than ever. Accidentally transmuting into an unknown location was never good.

You've stepped into the devil's den.

You wandered, getting your bearings. It was all too new to you, how where you expected to follow along?

You stumbled into him, the man you were designed after.

~~~

You screamed, bolting upright in the bed. Your legs bend and move closer to your chest. The think sheets flopped off the top part of your body, pooling at your lap. Your upper torso and head drenched in a layer of sweat. Your hands flew to her head, covering your eyes from the monstrosity you saw in your dream.

The light on the bedside table closest to Cordelia switched on.

It wasn't the first time Cordelia had woken from someone having night terrors. In a school with a wide range of ages, it was more common than you'd think. The younger girls had them the most, as you would expect. Their minds were more active but even the older ones had them from time to time. Some of the girls were unfortunately exposed to trauma while growing up, being unaccepted for who they were as a witch. What she didn't expect was for the reaction to be so jarring. The sudden snap from unconsciousness to conscious was difficult for her body to handle. She needed a second to wrap her brain around the situation which was something she didn't want to do.

"Y/N, look at me."

You shook your head, beginning to rock back and forth. You mumbled out incoherently, describing the beast you saw. It was horrifying.

She asked if she could touch you when you didn't respond she slowly reached out until she made contact. You didn't flinch away (which she took as a good sign) nor did you move towards her touch. Ever so gently, she eased your hands away from your face, revealing your blotchy face and irritated eyes.

Your eyes flickered open, taking in the room around you. The face was gone. Feeling the weight of a hand on your shoulder, you turned Cordelia.

The door opened revealing three girls checking in on their headmistress and her roommate. They heard screams and wanted to make sure nothing bad happened.

"What happened?", "Is everything alright?" the girls asked.

"Nightmare. Can one of you head to the bathroom and run a hot bath?" Mallory sneaked past to fulfil the request. Delicately, Cordelia moved you closer to her. If there was any sign of apprehension, she would stop and resume once you were comfortable. "Shh, everything's okay. You are safe. Nothing's going to hurt you."

You sobbed, occasionally choking while trying to get a breath in.

"I-I s-saw evil," you stuttered out. "H-he greet-ed 'e w-ith o-open-"

What scared you the most was how you felt when gazing at evil itself. There was a void in your soul and bearing witness to the being began the healing process. The wound like while was tender but the pain that came along with it was gone.

"Shh. Take a moment to catch your breath."

"I-I was in hell-"

"It must have been terrifying but your back now, with us," Cordelia said. You knew wasn't trying to be condescending but you felt like she was.

Mallory notified Cordelia when the bath was finished. The supreme thanked the girl. You had calmed down significantly since then. Zoe and the other girl, information anyone who was awoken by your screams that you were okay, and it was safe to go back to bed.

The bathwater was warm against your skin, relieving you of the dirty feeling you can only get from being drenched in sweat. Cordelia remained by your side as you begged her to be though she was reluctant to leave herself.

The times were few and far between when you would freak out as you did tonight. At least in Cordelia's eyes, she rarely had you complain about any major problems or come to her for some level of consolement.

"It felt so... real."

"Dreams usually do."

"I guess I can't get a good sleep even on a good bed."

"So, you liked the bed?"

"I said I liked it before."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you? Would you consider moving to it permanently?"

"You want me to share a bed with you?" Cordelia nodded. You chuckled. "I don't know how you expect me to keep my hands off you- I mean-" Cordelia looked up at you grinning. "Wait, have you purposely not given me a room?"

"You know as well as I do, there are beds to spare."

"You're evil. You forced me to sleep on that couch."

"You chose to sleep there, darling."

"'Darling', what are an old married couple now?"

"Weren't we always?"

"What the fuck Cordelia?"

~~~

You, the 2.0, crafted in his likeness with the removal of his ill-intent. You knew what you were, they didn't bother hiding that. You knew him to be pure evil, corrupter of God's plan.

Free will, something you weren't allowed to have. We were all meant to be subservient to the Lord. He, the morning star, was the first to be cast out of heaven. He was defiant, not agreeing with god. All he would've had to do was simply said "I sinned, I submit, please forgive me", and the matter would've been resolved. But he was too arrogant, feeling too proud to bow down. He used his own logic and blamed God for misguiding him. Why would God give them knowledge if they weren't meant to use it?

~~~

Cordelia had been going on a lot of emergency meetings through your time at the school. Some appeared to be beneficial, like the time she first went and returned with two girls (Queenie and Madison) whom you were informed later on had died under her care. Unbeknown to you, you were replacing one of their jobs.

You heard about the boy's school from the woman who attended but remained in the dark about the specifics, being told it was council business and to "not worry you pretty little head," by Cordelia. You reckoned you had a right to know if it concerned the students or Cordelia's (as your unofficial girlfriend) wellbeing in any way but she denied that it did. You stupidly accepted her answer convinced that she would tell you when something goes awry.

You got on incredibly well with Queenie. You had some of the same favourite tv shows and she had many interesting stories to tell about her time trapped as a ghost in the Hotel Cortez. You happened to be a supernatural nut which explained your love for everything magical. You may have bombarded her with way too many questions about what it was like to be a ghost, people had to pull you away in order for you to leave her alone. She filled you in on her side of attending the school, adding in all the juicy gossip that Zoe and Cordelia left out.

Madison was hesitant to interact with you. You were the young hip teacher that happened to join after she died. You mean she didn't have to be stuck with Cordelia holding them back the whole time? You hadn't interacted with her until the fifth night after your initial introduction. She was in the kitchen raiding the liquor cabinet.

"I wouldn't drink that one if I were you. Cordelia will have your head if you open that one."

"Like I care," she said breaking open the bottle of expensive white wine.

"At least pour me a glass if you aren't going to listen to my warning."

She groaned, pulling out two wine glasses and pouring you both a lot. The two of you talked about everything and nothing. You'd finished the bottle by the time you'd retire for the night. You made sure she made it to bed safely before retiring for the night. You were all giddy by the time you stumbled into Cordelia's room. The woman was bundled up under the blankets with a book in her hand. She took one look at you and shook her head, "Madison?"

"Madison," you confirmed, flopping onto the bed giving Cordelia little time for her to move her legs out of the way. "She drank your wine."

"All of it?"

"I had some too."

"I noticed."

"Told her I'd pay you back for it." You scrambled up, crawling on top of her. "I never told her how," you purred, leaning down and taking Cordelia's lips for yourself. Your tongue tasted of the wine. You took no time building into the passion of the kiss. She moaned, re-adjusting how she rested beneath you. You pulled away, murmuring "Would you like that?"

"Yes," she moaned.

You made your way down her body, removing any fabric that got in your path. You paused, seeing the wound on her abdomen. The skin surrounding it was irritated and bruised. What you assumed was a scab concaved into her. Cordelia whined asking why you had stopped. In need for more she forgot about the mark of her fading on her body. She'd hidden it well from you this far, always having that area dressed.

You shook off all the questions you wanted to ask her, instead giving her what she is owed. No reason to ruin the night for the sake of feeding your curiosity. You took your time liking and sucking the right places to turn her into a bumbling mess beneath you. She cried out for more attention. She recalled hearing the click of the door locking but knowing it wasn't her to do it. She wondered if you were going to soundproof the room too.

"Scream for me baby. Scream so the whole coven can hear."

In the little time the two of you had been a thing, you'd kept any PDA behind the close door of your shared bedroom. Anything fun you had, the noise was kept to a minimum or the room was soundproofed in advance. All those times, Cordelia had been in charge. She didn't want to ruin her reputation and didn't want any of the girls to know what she does in her spare time. You, in your tipsy state, was overcome with a newfound level of confidence. It was as though you were someone else feeding off your need to please the woman you'd been in love with for years.

The next morning you were down bright and earlier. Your chipper self poured a cup of coffee before making your way to where Zoe, Queenie and Madison were. They all turn their attention to you the moment you walk in. "I paid her back," you said, directed to Madison as you took her seat at the table. Madison looked slightly horrified (and maybe even impressed?) at you.

"How long do you think it will take her to come downstairs?"

"She's already late."

"I wouldn't expect her to be down any time soon, I wore her out last night."

"Too much detail," Zoe said. The other two laughed.

Fifteen minutes before the students were expected to be getting up, Cordelia rushed into the room. She tried to play it off as calm and collective but she was stressing about being behind schedule.

"Sorry about being late, I slept through my alarm."

"Didn't you get much sleep last night?" Queenie asked, her and Madison were trying to suppress their laugh.

Cordelia deadpanned to you, "You told them, didn't you?"

"Didn't have too, we heard it all," Madison said.

"Oh God, the students. Y/N, what were you thinking?"

"Delia, they're all old enough to know about sex."

"It doesn't mean they should be forced to hear that." You got up and headed to the kitchen before she could scold you any further. "Where are you going?"

"To get dressed, students will be up soon."

~~~

You resonated with his actions and logic, maybe because you were him in some way. That's the problem with the likeness, the blurred line between who you are and who you are seen to be. If he betrayed then so would you?

Human's fascinated you, the ability to come back from sin and earn there place in the holy kingdom. It wasn't forced but advised. Sin still existed and you could choose to break the 10 commandments. Choice. You wanted to choose your life not be bound to a memory of someone else and forced through the wrongdoings as if it were prophesied.

He wasn't like you expected, rude or demeaning. He was cunning, motivated by ill-intent, but who's to judge if it's morally good or bad? Those concepts confused you, bad could be good in another's eyes.

The man knew who you were exactly, rumours of your creation spread fast in the spirit world. "Sister. I didn't expect to meet you so soon. I would have prepared for your arrival." He offered his land to you, to help rule his throne. He had bigger plans for the end times than he let on. He fed into your desire, the same confusion he had experienced at the beginning of his rebellion.

He offered you whatever you could have wanted in order to steal you from the grips of your creator. "I want to understand the purpose of all of this. Why are humans so important? Why are expected to follow subserviently?." A life of my own.

"Then go, seek out your own answers and when you get bored or don't like the answers that you find, there's a place for you here."

"How do I get there? I don't have control-" You'd gotten there by mistake, you couldn't your powers yet. The angels expected you to which is how the ruckus in heaven began.

Think of suddenly being were you want to go and step forward. You'll be incognito unless you want to be seen. No angel has had long term exposure to humans, who knows the damages it could cause.

~~~

It was the first time Myrtle Snow had gotten some time alone with Cordelia after their arrival back from their council trip. She wasn't happy about Cordelia's decision to allow a male student at Hawthorne to compete in The Seven Wonders. Cordelia informed her that she'd seen the future and it appeared grim. At some point she knew she would have to identify her successor but she needed to buy herself some time to figure out who.

Myrtle mentioned Mallory, and how she witnessed the girl completely reversed the wounds of a dead doe and brought it back to its youth. They couldn't deny Langdon's power and though she doubted he was the next in line, he could be what brings the end.

Cordelia admitted her powers are growing weaker and feeling herself dying. She told her Aunt that she hadn't told anyone about her dwindling power except her.

"It's sooner or later Y/N is going to figure it out," Cordelia said. She feared telling you, you already noticed the markings her sickness brought along. You knew too much about magic, sooner or later you'd question her and her state. One of the perks of being the supreme was perfect health. Those mysterious marks don't match that. "I've tried to keep her out of all of this- I don't want her to get hurt." She knew you were more than capable of looking after yourself, but she still felt obligated to protect you from the world.

Myrtle brought up how painful it was to watch you swooning over her for years and it was nice to see that you get a break. The underlying threat that it will be cut short hung in the air but remained unsaid. Cordelia never having mentioned you two being together assumed she'd heard from one of the others.

Mallory interrupted them and told Cordelia that her two o'clock is here to see her.

You hadn't seen Cordelia much that day, having back to back classes, a doctor's appointment then marking once you got back. You'd worked through dinner, not realising what time it was until it was eight and your stomachs rumbling snapped you out of your concentrating state. You had one paper left on witch history. As much as you loved the history of Salem witches, you knew none of these girls cared enough to write a paper on it. There all here to improve their magic ability, history isn't going to help with that. You tossed the paper onto the rest deciding dinner was in order. Marking can be left until tomorrow.

You found a tupperware container full of left overs in the fridge. You scooped a helping of the pasta onto a plate before shoving it in the microwave. You felt two hands wrap around your waist. You chuckled and relaxed slightly.

"Missed you today baby," Cordelia said snuggling into your back. You told her you missed her back. You yawned. "Were you asleep?" she said referring to the robe you changed into when you got home from the doctors as well as your yawn.

"Had a doctor's appointment and had to mark after so I decided to get comfortable."

"Doctor's appointment? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was a checkup. I needed to see if my medication was working. They're giving me a higher dosage."

"I don't remember you being on medication."

"I've been on them for years. Some problem with my blood. I can't remember the specifics on the top of my head." You changed the topic, the last making you uncomfortable. "You're being more cuddly than you usually are in public. What happened to keep it in the bedroom."

"That went out the window when they heard us having sex."

"You have to admit you enjoyed it."

"I did," Cordelia admitted. "You could say, I owe you."

"Not tonight. I'm worn out. I'm going to go to bed after dinner."

"I might have to finish off my work early so I can have a cuddle session before bed."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

Cordelia ran off to complete any work she had remained so she could spent her night with you.

You finished your meal and headed up your bedroom. You yawned as you entered the room. The ground felt muddy. Your eyes snapped open. You stood frozen in a forest of trees. A lone gas station stood with a mile of road on either side. "What the fuck-" you rubbed your eyes. This couldn't be real. A man stood there pumping gas into his car, nothing out of the ordinary. You reached for your pocket. You had none. You're in a robe. Outside. With nothing underneath. This hasn't happened before and hopefully never again.

You shouldn't be here, how did you get here? No level of teleportation would have gotten you this far without harm, this place wasn't near the school.

You step forwards to make your way towards the gas station. Maybe he could help you, tell you where you were so you could call Cordelia and explain what happened. A glove hand slipped over your mouth, another around your waist. You were tugged towards a body. You thrashed about trying to escape when the person spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you Y/N." You said something but it was muffled by the hand. "I'll let you go in a second but you need to see something first."

Another car pulled up and a woman stepped out. The two interacted before the woman ended up cutting his Achille's heel. He collapsed onto the ground and she slit his throat as well. To finish him off she poured gasoline on him and set him on fire. The woman pulled away in her own car. You watched as the man's flesh, burnt to dust. You screamed, cried out watching the scene unfold. You were helpless to do anything but watch on in horror.

"That man's name was John Henry Moore. He taught at the Warlock school, you know the one. He was going to rat out his brother warlocks for treason. His key's are unharmed by the fire. You have one of two choices, drive back to the school and tell your precious supreme that a warlock was murdered and have to explain why you were out here in the middle of the night or you could drive away, dump the car and not tell a soul." Both hands let go of you.

"Why did you make me watch that? Who are you?"

You spun around but no one was there. You decided to test what the person said was true. You crouch by the pile of ash. John Henry Moore, you never heard of him. That wasn't surprising, he taught at a warlock school. You weren't familiar with too many, you were always taught you were superior to them so you never bothered to look into them. You hovered your hand above the ashes, concentrating on who they used to belong to. Come on Y/N, you can do it, you repeated in your head. You took a deep breath in and out.

Information filled your mind along with snippets of the man's face. The person was right.

You snatched the keys from the pile of ash and hopped into the car. What were you doing? You can't steal a dead man's car. He isn't going to need it, you reasoned. You start up the car, listening to it rev. The camera's, they would have seen you hop into the car. With a flick of the wrist you erase any record of you being here before speeding away. You didn't know what to do. How were you meant to explain why you were in the middle of nowhere. You didn't even know where you were going.

"Where did you go so late?" Cordelia asked as you stumbled through the front door.

"Grocery store."

"In your robe?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get there? The van's still parked-"

"You ask too many questions," you snapped. She was taken aback. "I've been through hell today. Can we just leave it there?" You didn't give her a second to respond before you headed towards the back of the school. She followed you, stopping when you did. Your back faced her.

You'd changed energies since you entered the academy. You were no longer the sweet and tired woman she was planning on spending her night with. Now you were agitated. You rarely found a reason to snap at her, she worried something happened to you. She let your behaviour slide, not wanting to push you any further and cause a scene at one thirty in the morning.

"We have a new student, Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt. I put her in your class and organised a one on one with you and her today to get her comfortable being here."

You hummed fiddling with a pack of cigarettes you picked up along the way. You never smoked before in your life but the urge was all too tempting tonight. "Hmm~" you hummed, your mouth around the stick of death that was between your lips. Your hands fumbled about for the lighter you bought. Seemingly misplacing it, you groaned.

"I'm glad you're safe," Cordelia mused. "When you disappeared after you said you were going to bed, I worried." When you wouldn't pay her any attention, more focused on what you were doing she circled you. "What are you- Where did you get those?" She tried to take the cigarettes away from you but you moved away. "You don't smoke- how? Why?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight," you said around your unlit cigarette, stepping outside and shutting the door with your powers.

You sat there until the sun rose. The birds chirping sounded like ringing in your ears. Visions of the man burning was all you could see. The hand around your waist and mouth, holding you in place. The helplessness you felt. What kind of witch were you? You had the chance to tell Cordelia where you were, what you say and you decided against it? Who were you? Not yourself.

Your robe slipped off your shoulders revealing your back to the cold day and showcasing your white ink tattoo of angel wings. You got paid 50 bucks to do it back in the day, now it's just scarring of the tattoo you once got.

You were on your third cigarette. You took another puff, missing the sound of the back door opening under the screams in your mind. A tap on your shoulder sent you zapping elsewhere. Landing on the other side of the garden, you quickly adjusted your robe, covering up your back and naked front. Your robe must have untied itself during the night. You dropped your cigarette butt stumping it out with your bare foot.

"Mal? What are you doing up so late?"

"It's 9 in the morning," she notified you. "Cordelia told me to talk to you after you didn't head up this morning."

"I told her I was going to sleep on the couch," she probably assumed the one in her room. Mallory walked up to you sitting down beside where you teleported to. "We don't need a mediator-"

"Go and talk to her. Assure her that there is nothing to worry about. She spent the couple hours you were missing tearing the place to shreds." You chuckled at the last bit. "She also wanted me to remind you, you had that class with Coco."

"Who?"

"The new student."

"Crap, yeah. When's that start?"

"Three minutes ago."

"Shit- you distract the girl, I'll quickly freshen up."

She nodded. You grabbed your belongings before teleporting upstairs to clean yourself up. You scrambled through your belongings looking for something quick to change into. You opted for a long maxi floral dress with your platform boots. You douse yourself in perfume before sprinting downstairs. You ran past Cordelia on her way to her office, she went to speak when you said, "Meeting late." and continued on your way.

You found Mallory sitting alongside another girl. You apologised for your tardiness, and greeted the girl with a handshake.

"Your hands are cold," she commented.

"I'm well aware. So as you're aware I'm meant to so you the ropes. If you are scared, it's normal."

You dreaded the time your class your one on one would end but when it did, you were happy that the new student was at least a little more comfortable being here. She reminded you of yourself when younger. No you weren't rich, you were scared of being in a place you didn't belong and not wanting to waste the teachers time. Any witch no matter how little their powers are deserved to be here.

Once you were done you were requested to go to your girlfriends office. You didn't bother knocking as she expected you. The door squeaked, "Your door needs some oil," you commented.

"I'll make sure someone does that later-"

"Oh, I can do it. It's no problem. I'll do it now-" You deflected.

"Leave the door. It's not important." Cordelia rose from her desk chair and moved to the set of chairs in front of her desk.She chose to do this to show you were not in trouble and to remove the desk from between the both of you. You'd both use it as a barrier to hide behind. She gestured you to take the other chair. You slowly shuffled to your designated spot, your platforms scraping across the floor. Normally you would have earned a look of disapprove from your girlfriend for ruining the school's flooring. Today was different, her pet peeves were tossed out the window, replaced with an emotion you had yet to determined.

She didn't speak until you were settled in your chair. Your eyes floated everywhere never focusing on one place and definitely not on her. She realised she wasn't going to get your undivided attention, it was for the best, you never made eye contact when you were in a stressful situation. The woman allowed you to get away with pushing her away far too long. She'd let you escape from her for years during her marriage or the nights back in high school were she'd gotten a smidgen to close. She saw why now, it was as clear as day. You'd pushed her away to save yourself heartbreak. It took her until she had the sight to figure out she was being cheated on and still she couldn't figure out how strong your feelings where for her. You were pushing her away again but this time she couldn't understand why, it wasn't like the last time you did so, you haven't left her yet. It was similar to moments in high school were she was getting a little experimental, bi-curious even, but you weren't having it. You didn't want to be second, you wanted the gold. Had you figured out her secret, that her days were numbered. You'd seen the markings. You could be bracing yourself for the pain, cutting off the ties before they were snapped from you. Self induced pain was easier to deal with.

"How did the session with Coco go?" It was best to ease into the conversation, make it seem normal, Cordelia thought. You both knew it was coming so there was no point in delaying the inevitable but scaring you off wasn't the end goal.

"The Vanderbilt girl is super nice. Is Vanderbilt or Pierre a better nickname? Pierre is a masculine name and she isn't very- Vanderbilt it is." You rambled on. "I think I did a pretty good job at convincing her she belongs here."

"I knew you'd be the perfect one for that."

"Yeah~"

"I want to talk about last night-" you went to interrupt but you were silenced. "I know you don't want to talk about it but that's what couples do, they communicate so we can move past it."

You nodded, your focus now stilled on the left leg of Cordelia's chair. There was a paper clip resting next to it, bent slightly out of shape. You wanted to pick it up and put it with the rest or at least fiddle with it to distract your mind from what she was asking you to do. Talking was a chore, why would you need to talk, can't she just read your mind, or the energy you're radiating? Her idea wasn't a good one. Emotions are meant to be expressed outwardly and if not, they should remain to one's self.

"You said you were going to bed. You could have given me a heads up or texted me that you had to go out."

"I did head to bed." Your voice was small. Your hands fiddle with the light fabric of your attire. "I didn't plan on going out... It kind of happened."

"You going somewhere doesn't usually just happen. You have to actively seek out doing it."

"I-I teleported- I think. Whatever happened wasn't intentional."

"You teleported? Where?"

"I don't-" Should you tell the truth? "A park, an hour away. I went to the grocery store on the way back and picked up-"

"The cigarettes. You know what I'm going to ask you to do with them." You shook your head. She laid her hand out. You pulled them out of your clothes pocket and handed them over. "I don't want you to get addicted to these. They ruin lives and I love you too much to watch you waste it away on this." You nodded in recognition. "Did anything happen while you were out?"

You shook your head, "Nothing happened-"

"You transmutated far, are you sure you didn't get hurt?" You nodded. "Can I have a look over?"

"You just want an excuse to see me naked, don't you?"

"Always, but it is strange that you are developing new powers now or at least of that strength."

"Developing them now? Are you calling me old?" you joked.

"You're older than me." Yeah, you were. "What are you, like 905?"

"Hey! I'm not immortal."

"You could have convinced me otherwise."

"We both know that wouldn't be a good thing. We both know the story of Scáthach. "

"Are you talking about My Roanoke Nightmare? I thought you hated that show."

As much as Cordelia hated horror, you were a fanatic- not because you enjoyed the film, you loved critiquing it, ripping their use of the supernatural. You often referenced horror movies and how they were wrong in class or when casually talking to Cordelia. Then the show My Roanoke nightmare was popular, you'd binged watch it and won't shut up about the show for weeks. Cordelia knew everything about the show without seeing it. She eventually did, so she could better understand what was irritating you so much.

"I do, but Audrey Tindall is hot."

"I hope neither of us ever met her." The both of you chuckled.

"No, but seriously. She's real or at least what they say about her is. She gained immortality from ancient gods. We both know you don't make deals with ancient gods, we teach that as part of the curriculum. You don't accept gifts from deities and all that jazz. It's witchcraft 101. All I know is if I had a choice between being normal and being immortal, i'd choose normally any day. Hell I'd probably give it up. Imagine living a life where you couldn't get attached to people because you know that one day they are going to die and you'll be alone. You can met new people but you know that they are going to die too. It's a long circle of death until the world explodes or hell raises over maybe even after that. It would get lonely. Plus, I'd lose you and I couldn't handle that."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." At least not for now, not today, Cordelia thought.

#cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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breanime · 5 years

Text

Butterflies (Part Two)

Part Two to Butterflies!

Strong WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, veiled threats of further abuse, Nick Amaro quietly freaking the fuck out

*gif not mine*

The house was quiet; Nick was gone when you woke up, but you felt him press a kiss to your temple before he left. Now you sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper as you sipped your morning coffee. You’d been up well into the night cataloging witness statements for your latest case while Nick looked up locations for your wedding. You smiled as you thought about his excitement.

“You know, this place seems all nice and fancy on the surface, but we’ve busted them for prostitution at least three times in the last five years,” Nick said, laptop propped up on his knees.

You didn’t look up from your own laptop, shaking your head as you moved your files around. “How are they still open?”

“Friends in high places,” he answered, “You sure you don’t mind this? The big wedding and all the fanfare that comes with it?”

You looked up at your fiancé, smiling at the look of caution on his face. Nick was all for a traditional wedding with his kids and both your families there, but he said he’d be fine with just a trip to the courthouse for the two of you—whatever you wanted. “I’m sure,” you said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his waiting lips, “A big wedding will be fine, besides—how cute is Zara going to be in her dress?”

His grin widened. “So cute,” he agreed easily, “and her step-mom is going to look gorgeous…as soon as she picks her dress.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the headboard. Picking your dress was a nightmare; everything was either too fancy, too expensive, or too frilly. “Can’t you just pick one for me?” You whined, shifting the laptop and papers on your lap. “You have better taste than I do.”

“Well, I did pick you,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. You loved these kinds of moments, when it was just you and Nick, planning your future togethers and laughing. Later that night, after the two of you put your work away and laid in bed, holding each other, you felt those butterflies in your stomach as you pictured more nights like this, nights held by the man you loved, your lips on his and his hands on you. You couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Nick Amaro.

You floated on the memories of the previous night all the way to work, moving through your workload surprisingly quickly. You and Nick had exchanged a few texts throughout the day, and your hubby-to-be had sent you links to some sites that made affordable, custom wedding dresses. Satisfied with the amount and quality of work you’d done today, you leaned back in your chair and browsed some of the links Nick sent you. There was a knock on your door, and your secretary peeked her head in.

“Mrs. Amaro…” She began, smiling.

You rolled your eyes; she was almost as excited about your upcoming nuptials as you and Nick were. “Not an Amaro yet,” you corrected, chuckling.

“…Well, your witness for the Patterson case just called. She said she’s having second thoughts about her testimony?”

You sat up, dropping your phone on your desk. The Patterson case was a clear winner, and this girl was your star witness. “What? When? Why?”

“Just now, she didn’t say why…” She took a note from her pocket. “Asked if you could meet her at this address and go over it again?” She walked in, handing you the note. “She sounded…off…”

You stood up, grabbing your bag and chucking your phone in your pocket with the note. “I’m not gonna let her recant,” you said, determined, “Hold all my calls, I should be back in an hour.”

You stormed out of your office and into a cab, tapping your foot impatiently as the cabbie drove you to the address you’d given. You were so focused on what you were going to say to your witness, you didn’t even realize where the cab had dropped you off until he was driving away and you were standing in the street…

…alone.

You looked around, hand on your purse strap. The buildings around you were all abandoned and decrepit, and there was litter all over the street. You weren’t familiar with this neighborhood, and you knew, as you stood alone in the street, that your witness wasn’t there. You pulled out your phone, about to call the cab back, when you felt a leather-clad hand slap over your mouth. You wanted to scream—tried to scream—but the hand was suffocating you. You tried to fight, but the person dragged you into the building.

The butterflies were quickly replaced with the cold, harsh stab of utter fear.

Nick and Munch walked into the squad room, armed with all kinds of greasy take-out for the squad. They were debating the pros and cons of assigned seating at the reception when Nick noticed the grim look on Olivia’s face. Cragen and Fin were standing with her around her desk, and Rollins was clicking away at a computer close by, her face serious and concerned.

“Liv?” He titled his head slightly. “What’s going on?”

“Nick,” she said, her voice was soft and careful like when she spoke to victims, “When was the last time you spoke to Y/N?”

Nick’s blood went cold. “I—she texted me… an hour and a half ago—what’s going on?”

Olivia put her hands up, preparing herself to have to hold him back, he thought. “It might be nothing…” she started.

“What might be nothing?” Nick dropped the food on a desk, stepping up nervously. “Did something happen? Is she okay?”

“She went missing an hour ago,” Cragen reported, hands in his coat pockets, “Her secretary said she got a strange call from a witness to meet somewhere in the city…”

“But the witness called right after asking if she could come by the office,” Liv finished, “the secretary said the first call must have been fake, but when she tried to call Y/N back…” Liv took a breath, and Nick knew he wouldn’t like what was about to come out of his partner’s mouth. “…A man answered the phone and said… He said…”

“He said ‘the bitch is busy’,” Cragen finished for her, eyebrows furrowed, “then hung up.”

Nick moved—unable to keep still as the white-hot rage pounded in his bloodstream. He had questions, accusations, fears that needed to be let out and addressed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He slammed his hand on his desk, the sting barely registering in his brain.

“Nick, hey, Nick,” Olivia was suddenly next to him, her hand on his shoulder, steadying him, “We’re gonna find her, okay? Stay with us, we’re gonna find him…”

“We already got a few leads,” Fin spoke up, “Rollins is looking through the call log, trying to see who placed the call. The secretary is working with a detective to zero in on the address.”

“She doesn’t have it?” Nick asked, seething.

“She wrote it down and gave it to Y/N,” Olivia asked, “Nick, we’ve got uniforms patrolling the streets looking for her and—”

“—Oh,” Rollins sat up at her computer, eyes wide, “W-we got a hit on the number used to make the call…” She looked up, eyes darting from Nick, to Olivia, and back to Nick. “…It’s registered to Lucille Hemper…the mother of Andrew Hemper.”

Nick felt like he was about to black-out. Andrew Hemper was a violent misogynist who had attacked a handful of women and almost attacked you during interrogation. His trial was in progress, and as far as SVU knew, he had made bail and was on house arrest until his trial ended and the verdict was delivered. He was a non-issue; you had done some great legal work on his case, and the squad had provided more than enough evidence to convict him. But somehow he had skipped his tether and now…

Now he had you.

“I’m calling the judge now,” Cragen said, already power-walking to his office, “I want an APD out on Hemper immediately,” he ordered, and Rollins picked up the phone and started dialing, “Fin, Munch, I want you canvasing the area,” he turned and pointed to Olivia, “Stay with Amaro!”

Everything ached. When you blinked, it hurt. When you breathed, it hurt. When you hissed “you’re a weak, piece of garbage” at Hemper through your clenched, bloody teeth, it hurt. You were on the ground, lying on your side with your arms wrapped around yourself as Hemper stood above you. He had kicked and beat the shit out of you, but you knew him, you knew his type. If you showed any sign of weakness or fear, he’d win. And you weren’t going to let him win.

“You think this is all I got?” Hemper asked, breathing heavily as he paced in front of you. You could see speckles of your blood on his shoes, and you hoped he was leaving evidence all over the abandoned warehouse. You had pulled his hair and scratched his cheek pretty well in the struggle, and even if he killed you, you had his DNA under your fingernails. That thought made you feel a little better about the situation. “You think this is it?” He kicked you again, and you gasped as the air left your lungs. “No way, bitch,” he huffed, “no way this is it.”

You knew what he was implying, the threat underneath the threat, but you also knew his MO. He was all talk. “You…” Your voice was cracked, and you put a hand over your aching stomach, “you’re all out of juice…” You coughed. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in jail…”

“Nah,” he crouched down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him, “I’m in the wind. And if you’re lucky, I might take you with me…” You could feel his fingers tighten on your face, and you knew there’d be bruises. “…or I might let you die here.”

“Wh… What is it that you want, exactly?” You asked, trying to buy time. “You already broke free from your ankle bracelet.”

“I want you to tell everyone that you’re not smarter than me,” he answered, glaring down at you, “That you didn’t beat me. I want you to tell everyone that I’m the best, and that you’re nothing but a stupid bitch.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead, you swallowed, making an effort to make your eyes bigger. “You—you still have my phone, right?” You asked, adding an extra tremor to your voice for the full affect. “Maybe—maybe we can make a call?”

Nick was sitting in the locker room, his head in his hands. Everything and everyone were moving way too slowly for him, but he knew complaining wouldn’t help anyone—especially not you. Your secretary had come in, crying her eyes out, and gave her official statement. As your fiancé, Nick wasn’t technically allowed to be a part of the investigation, but Olivia “happened” to leave the door open as she interviewed the secretary, and he was able to keep up with what was going on.

It was going into hour three of your abduction, and they were nowhere closer to finding you than they had been at the beginning. Lucille Hemper had admitted that her son had disconnected his ankle bracelet and stolen her phone. She even surrendered her home computer—which was full of internet searches for abandoned warehouses in the city, as well as your recent cases. Nick had punched the wall when he heard that. Hemper had been keeping tabs on you since his arrest; collecting your stats and reading up on your cases.

He’d been stalking you. How his case worked and counselor hadn’t spotted that was beyond Nick.

He took a breath, staring at his shoes through watery eyes. You meant everything to him; in all of his life, all of his mistakes and trials and errors in love, you were the one thing he was sure of. Nick knew, when he looked at you, held you, kissed you, that you were the one for him, and he was the one for you. And now you were in the clutches of this psychopath, and there was nothing he could do… you were his fiancée, he was going to be your husband, and he couldn’t protect you.

He was worthless.

“Nick,” Olivia came in, breathless, “Hemper’s on the phone; Cragen’s talking with him now.”

Nick jumped up and followed Olivia out and into Cragen’s office. Nick’s blood boiled when he heard Hemper’s voice, but he stayed silent.

“…And I want a car, full tank, 4-wheel drive,” Hemper was saying, completely unaware that he was on speaker phone. TARU was in the room, tracing the signal and recording it. “I’m taking this bitch with me,” he said, and Nick clenched his fists, “as soon as I get a private plane out of the city, you can have her back…” He chuckled darkly, and Nick wanted to punch another wall—at least until he could punch Hemper. “…when I’m all done with her.”

“We got a signal,” the TARU officer whispered, waving Nick and Olivia over, “He’s stagnant, here’s the address.” He printed it out and handed it to Olivia. Nick snatched the paper out of her hand and ran out of the room, Olivia at his heels.

“Liv, don’t—” he began.

“—I’m coming with you,” she said, shocking him into silence, “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

You were leaning on the wall now, still on the ground. Hemper was pacing back and forth, still blabbering on the phone to Cragen with his ridiculous demands. You figured they should have been able to trace the call by now, and you hoped someone was on the way soon. Hemper had tied your hands together with a zip tie, and they laid in your lap idly. You looked down at them, eyes locking onto the ring Nick had given you the day he’d proposed. You felt tears in the back of your throat as you thought of him, but you swallowed them down. You wouldn’t allow yourself to cry in front of Hemper. Your face was hurting almost as much as your body was. Hemper had slapped you around a bit more before he made the call, trying to build his confidence up to talk to Cragen, and now you were starting to feel dizzy. Hemper’s voice was starting to sound far away as he ranted about what a dumb bitch you were and how smart he was, exactly like you told him to. The longer he talked, the stronger the trace. You smirked to yourself, satisfied in that small victory, and let yourself nod off to sleep.

You woke up to a loud bang.

Startled, you blinked yourself awake just in time to see Hemper hit the ground, your phone falling out of his hand and breaking on the concrete floor.

“Suspect is down!” Olivia was shouting. “Call a bus!”

Hemper was groaning, and you turned to watch him. He was crying, and you saw him clutch his chest.

“Relax,” Olivia growled, flipping him over and digging her knee into his back as she cuffed him, “It’s only a rubber bullet.”

You wanted to laugh, but you were too tired. Your head sagged down again, and your eyes closed. You just wanted to sleep, and you were going to, until you heard that voice…

“Are you alright, mi amor?”

You opened your eyes to see Nick. His dark brown eyes were wide and worried, and his hands were on your face. He was trembling.

“Liv—where’s that bus?” He called, glancing behind him to address his partner. “Hey, baby, you’re okay, alright? I’m here, you’re okay.” He said to you, his voice low and soft.

You smiled, tasting blood. “Hey,” you whispered back, “Guess what? I didn’t lose the ring.” You flexed your hand, and Nick made a strangled, distressed sound at the sight of your bound hands.

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, and both of you relaxed at that small gesture. "Good job, baby," he said into your hair, “Just stay with me, okay? Talk to me.”

“I love you,” you said, and you felt the tears in your eyes.

“I love you, too,” Nick said back, a strained smile blooming on his worried face, “Did he—are you—?”

You shook your head, increasing your dizziness. “No,” you said, answering his unasked question, “No, he didn’t. I’m fine.” You sighed as Nick held you to him, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, mi amor,” he whispered, his lips on your ears, “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you said, eyes closed and butterflies fluttering again, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Later, you let Olivia and Fin take your statement in the hospital. Your boss insisted you stay overnight in case you had a concussion, and Nick stayed at your side the entire time, watching as the doctor checked you out and the nurses treated your wounds. All in all, you had a broken wrist, severe bruises to your abdomen, legs, and arms, and a multiple cuts and lacerations. Nick took notes—actual handwritten notes—on how to best help you heal, nodding and charming the hell out of the nurses, and when they all left, he tucked you into your bed.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, amor? Anything you need?” He asked, voice low. You were tired, and he knew it.

“Can you hold me?” You asked back.

Nick crawled into the hospital bed with you, sitting behind you and wrapping his arms around you. He kissed the top of your head, and you relaxed under his touch. “I’ll hold you every day,” he promised, “for the rest of my life.” He reached down and held your hand, a finger gently brushing against your ring. “For the rest of our lives.”

You looked back up at him, and you saw the depth of his love and affection for you in his warm eyes. You felt those butterflies start flying around again, and you knew you were safe and loved and cherished with Nick, and that you always would be. “Nick?”

“Mm?”

“I found my dress,” you informed him, heart pounding at the sight of Nick’s angelic smile, “I think you’re gonna like it.”

Nick kissed your head again, making you giggle. “Baby, you could wear a shower curtain, and I’d be happy.” He nuzzled into your hair. “As long as you’re safe. As long as you’re with me.”

“You’ll always keep me safe,” you took his hand and kissed his knuckle, lips lingering on the bruise he got from punching the wall, “Love you, Nick.”

“I love you, too,” he said, arms wrapped around you tight, kissing the side of your head, “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“I’ll be here every morning.”

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of Nick’s breathing, the feel of him behind you—sturdy and warm, and the butterflies in your stomach lull you to sleep.

*******************************************************************************************

So... What did you think? Feedback and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated! Thank you for reading!

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#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro imagine #nick amaro #danny pino

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semperintrepida · 4 years

Text

The Sellout

one: the meet cruel

Kyra had just started pulling a double shot when trouble swaggered through the door in the shape of a woman: tall, dark-haired trouble, broad-shouldered trouble, trouble wearing a business suit so perfectly tailored that Kyra could smell the money on her all the way from the other end of the bar.

The woman ambled up to the counter without so much as a glance at the menu board, instead letting her gaze sweep over the shop, from the regulars camped at the couches by the windows, to the empty tables in the center of the space, until her eyes finally came to rest upon Kyra herself.

Kyra put on a smile that was at least eighty percent fake and said, "I'll be right with you."

That made the woman nod, a measured movement not at all like the distracted nods most customers gave when told they'd have to wait, and something about it made prickles race across the back of Kyra's neck.

The shot was finished brewing, and Kyra cut the pull and returned her attention to the pitcher of steamed milk resting on the counter. She picked it up and gave it a gentle swirl, then took the cup with the shot from the drip tray and started pouring the milk into it. When the cup was nearly full, she began layering the foam so the ripples of white formed the body and upswept wings of a swan, finishing with a flourish that left a curving neck and the suggestion of a head and beak. There. A Leda in memory of love won and lost.

Kyra brought the cup to the register end of the bar, where she placed it on the pick-up counter and said in a loud voice, "Barney. Get your damn drink." It was three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and the shop was empty except for the usual suspects — and the woman standing on the other side of the counter, who didn't seem the type to wilt before a curse word or two. A raised eyebrow and a quirk at the corner of her lips proved Kyra right.

Barney popped up from the couch with a grin. He liked it when Kyra played grumpy, and he practically danced up to the counter to claim his prize while the woman stepped aside to make room for him.

His eyes took in Kyra's creation, swan and all, and he placed his hand over his heart and said, "Kyra, you honor me," as he always did during his three o'clock moment of happiness. Their little ritual.

The woman watched their exchange with interest. Her stance was wide-legged and relaxed as she waited for Barney to shuffle away with his drink cradled in his hands. Then Kyra turned to her, and when their eyes finally met, another prickle swept across Kyra's neck and down her spine.

Hot. The woman was hot — and not just that but gorgeous, as trouble for Kyra always was. Her hair was tied up in a braid, and the muscled lines of her neck emerged from the crisp collar of her shirt to meet a strong jawline. Full lips. High cheekbones. And light brown eyes flecked with gold, piercing as a raptor's, studying Kyra in a very deliberate display of attention.

She was the kind of gorgeous that made Kyra do stupid things, and an irritated heat rose from Kyra's belly up through her chest, some of it slipping out her voice as she said, "What can I get started for you?"

"I'd love a latte as beautiful as that one," the woman said, her eyes flicking over to the couches, "but unfortunately I need mine to go."

A safe and timid choice, incongruent for someone who radiated confidence and power, but if Kyra had a dollar for every time she'd seen people make odd choices while standing under the hot, track-lit glare of her coffee shop's menu, she'd have enough money to stop worrying about making the rent. "What size?"

"Grande," the woman answered automatically, but then she seemed to catch herself and said, "No, wait. Make it a twelve ounce, please."

Kyra could have unpacked a lot from that collection of answers, but she didn't want trouble to linger in her thoughts any longer than necessary. At least the woman had said please. "That'll be three fifty."

The woman reached inside her jacket and pulled out her wallet, but it was less a wallet than a thin stack of credit cards sandwiched between two similarly-sized plates of metal, with a wad of cash clipped to it. She peeled off a bill and pushed it across the counter. Her nails were short and well-shaped. No wedding ring, but the crown of a watch, large and masculine, peeked out from the cuff of her suit jacket.

Kyra punched the order into the register and made change for the twenty, sliding the coins and bills back across the counter. "I'll have it ready shortly," she said, and she walked back up the bar, picking up a paper cup from the stacks along the way.

Kyra's beloved La Marzocco awaited, its polished stainless steel shining in the light, a marvel of coffee engineering. Three group heads, two steam wands, and enough room that she and Pete could work the morning rush without bumping elbows. The machine had cost her as much as a nice car. It also fed her and put a roof over her head. It was her baby, and working with it brought her joy with every pull.

She felt herself smiling as she twisted the portafilter from the head and knocked the spent coffee grounds into a bin. Then she measured out the beans and started the grinder, wiping the basket in the filter with the cloth that hung from her belt while the grinder whirred.

The woman was watching her, and the weight of that gaze bore down on her and made her shiver despite the warmth thrown off by the machine. She focused on the dose. On the tamp. Not too much force, not too light, the grounds smooth and even, waiting for the heat and moisture and pressure that would combine separate parts into one, delicious moment.

While the espresso shot was pulling, she poured milk into a clean pitcher, then purged the wand and dunked it inside the milk to steam, the pitcher's cold steel warming against her skin as the liquid swirled and foamed. And when it was too hot to touch, she set it on the counter so the foam could rest while she wiped down the wand and lost herself in the familiar motions of crafting a latte.

A minute later, Kyra set the cup in front of the woman, next to the pile of change that sat untouched where Kyra had left it. "Enjoy," she said.

The woman took a sip, and her eyes widened. Then she sipped again, and a slow smile spread across her lips. But instead of taking her drink and leaving, she looked at Kyra and asked, "How long has this place been here?"

"Ten years."

It was interesting, the way the woman's face told Kyra two different stories: her features were open and friendly, but her eyes held calculated intent. "And how's business these days?"

Wariness uncoiled itself from its slumber around Kyra's belly and lifted its head. "Better than it looks at the moment."

"You're a bit far from MLK."

"MLK" was Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard, and like every MLK in a big city in the US, the name had been bestowed on a street in what had once been an industrial wasteland fifty years ago but was now a busy thoroughfare today. When Kyra first signed the lease for this shop, there was only one brewpub in the neighborhood, and her neighbors were a vacuum wholesaler and a logging equipment distributor. Ten years later, there were seven brewpubs within walking distance and nearly as many distilleries. "This isn't a Starbucks drive-through. Distillery Row brings in a lot of folks on tasting tours. So do all the brewpubs, and there's a streetcar line just up the way. But what would a barista know about foot traffic metrics or exposure value, right? Your eyebrows are already sky-high."

The woman smiled and matched her gaze. "All right. Let's talk about exposure value. What's the premium in cost per square foot for a high visibility retail space in this neighborhood?"

Kyra lifted her chin. "Does that work on everyone?"

"What?"

"The eye contact. The smile."

The smile in question widened a fraction. "And just what do you think I'm trying to do?"

"You're bullshitting me. And I don't know why."

"I'm new in town and I'm curious about this area. And who better to ask than the person who delivers the daily caffeine fix to everyone in the neighborhood. I didn't expect to get my head bitten off." Oh, she was good, how her voice had slipped into a hurt pout at the end. But her eyes gave her away, the hard glint within them almost predatory.

"Are you going to ask to see my manager?"

"Should I?"

"It won't get you very far."

Realization dawned. "You are the manager."

"Think bigger, lamb. I know I don't look like much." With her flannel shirt and black skinny jeans cuffed above a pair of Docs, Kyra knew she looked like every barista in Portland.

The woman took a breath as if she were tasting it, then she grinned and said, "You own this shop."

"Now you're catching on."

"Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"No, just the ones who come in under false pretenses." The words hung in the air between them, and Kyra crossed her arms. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"You haven't helped me at all, but the drink was delicious."

"If you're still sore about it after you get back to your Mercedes, you can put that down as your one star review on Yelp."

The woman laughed and raised her cup in a mock toast. "Well, this has certainly been exciting," she said, heading for the door. "I can't wait to see what happens the next time I come in."

"Next time? I'll be surprised if I see you again," Kyra said, but as she eyed the pile of change sitting untouched on the counter, her gut told her she'd better start preparing for trouble to return.

"Is that wishful thinking I hear?" The woman looked back with a smirk as she reached for the door. "Oh, you'll be seeing a lot more of me, I promise," she said. Then she winked at Kyra and left the shop.

Kyra rolled her eyes and tossed the money into the tip jar.

A whistle pierced the air, then Ellen's voice piped up from the couches. "Who the fuck was that?"

"Someone who just paid twenty bucks for a latte."

"Ooh, Kyra's lucky day. And even after you were such a bitch to her."

"That woman is bad news."

"You say that about every beautiful woman who walks in here."

"This time I'm worried about business, not pleasure." She'd never be able to explain the wariness she'd felt the moment the woman had started asking questions. Kyra had learned long ago to listen to that feeling whenever it stirred.

"That wasn't just a business transaction. She was into you."

"No she wasn't. She came in here looking for something, and that something wasn't me or a drink."

"You're so fucking paranoid sometimes."

One person's paranoia was another person's survival skill. Kyra had spent a childhood predicting the liquor-fueled winds of her father's rage, and that had made a home for wariness to live within her gut, along with host of other tools she used to discern a person's intent, to read the signals they gave off before they acted.

Her father was long dead, but his legacy lived on. These days, she used it to give customers what they wanted when they had no idea what that was. But it also helped her read certain situations, like whenever someone tried to pitch her a new business opportunity, or whenever a man entered the shop in the empty minutes just before closing.

"Ellen, leave her be," Harold said gently. He was the third of Kyra's trio of regulars, a retired history professor who fancied himself a sage. "Kyra has much to do, and I doubt she wants to spend it worrying about the unknowns on the horizon."

He was right, though. Kyra didn't want to think about trouble or her questions, or the fact that her hand-tailored suit probably cost more than the shop's rent each month.

Kyra reached down for the rag she used to clean the countertops, and shivered.

Continued in chapter two...

#kyssandra #kassandra #ac odyssey #modern day au #coffee shop au #enemies to lovers #this is just an excuse for me to write smut with these two in a modern day setting #100% pure grade A indulgence #sorry i'm all out of original thoughts #this will be my love letter to portland - coffee - motorcycles - bourbon - and beautiful women #the sellout

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unholyhelbig · 4 years

Note

Bechloe Prompt- Chloe's life has been slowly been falling apart, so she decides to take a month off to get her life together. Renting a cabin in the middle of the woods for a get a way from it all, she's surprised to hear that she'll have a roommate due to a mistake in the paperwork. While its only for the month and meeting someone new is great, her roommate, Beca, also has her own personal reasons and secrets to be there too.

Read on AO3

Title: A Hallmark Ending

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

By the time the sky faded to lilac, Chloe Beale felt drunk on her own confidence. Her suitcase plowing along on the gravel path towards a quaint little cabin on the edge of a lake. A lake her father used to bring her to when it was just the two of them- before he got remarried and they would just sit in a small fishing boat in the utter silence. Splitting a peanut butter sandwich and sharing in the quiet until a fish sunk its lips around a metal hook.

Those were simpler times. Times when the world didn’t get a chance to dig its steel-toed boot right under her ribs and flex its sickly bones in her side. Like when her publisher could pull out of a book deal last minute, leaving the manuscript untouched and dusty on top of her bookcase. When she had to cave and take her old job back at a department store in the perfume department. When her car sputtered to a final stop seven blocks from her driveway.

Chloe decided that coming here was a good idea.

Getting back to her roots on the lake in a cabin that was tiny and secluded. It was only a short trip, a month away from work that her pension could cover if she timed it exactly right (and it was Chloe, so she had). A place where she could breathe in the fresh mountain air and clear her mind of everything that made it so hard to write in the city.

The cabin was tiny, a one-bedroom with a large deck around the back and a string of fairy lights that radiated once the sun ducked down behind the horizon completely. A canopy of stars and a cup of hot cocoa made her pick up her pace. There was an old beat-up truck out front, probably the landlord doing one more sweep of the place before leaving for the next thirty days.

Chloe Beale was confident because she had done this all by herself. Had decided to pull herself away from work, and hand rented a cabin similar to her childhood one- all on her own. All without the help of some greasy mechanic who overcharged her, or a terrible boss who would walk her through how to ring up every purchase.

She heard it then; the rhythmic splitting of wood, and a couple of soft grunts coming from the side of the cabin. The one facing a large row of pine trees that gave way to an extensive forest filled with creatures and plants of all shapes and sizes.

A woman- shorter by about two inches from where Chloe was standing lifted a large shining ax above her defined shoulders. Chloe stopped at the edge of the grass. She brought the sharpened edge into the center of the log, splitting it into three even pieces. It sounded like a bowling ball hitting the just the right pins before a long sweeper came and knocked down the rest.

Her brunette hair was tied into a messy bun and sweat coated strands fell into midnight eyes, completely focused on the task at hand. She had headphones in and a focused look on her face. She had sweat through her white t-shirt, dirtied with mud.

“Excuse me,” Chloe waved meekly, trying to get the woman’s attention. She tried once more “Excuse me!”

The stranger drew in a bout of air and stopped, the axe in mid-air. It glinted off the orange sun. Chloe couldn’t tell if she had worked her features into annoyance or if she generally looked like that on a normal basis. Her earbuds hung around her shoulders now, eyes sweeping over Chloe’s figure.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here.” She panted.

Chloe nodded solemnly “Are you the handyman around here?”

The stranger laughed then, light and airy and done with her entire body. She let the ax drop to her side, taking in the appearance of Chloe all together. Her fingers were neatly painted, and she wore a nice blouse. She had barely even broken a sweat.

“No, kitten, I’m renting out the place.”

“I- that’s impossible.” Chloe huffed out, the back of her neck burned. “I paid the landlord for the rest of the month. Cabin 7A.”

“Yeah, me too, and I got here first, so it looks like you’ll have to find other arrangements.”

Chloe tried to keep her composure, tried to swallow that anger down but that stupid smirking face of this… this heathen was biting back at her like a mosquito just looking to tap a vein. She reached down and piled a few pieces of chopped wood into her grasp, walking towards the front of the cabin.

“It took an entire day to get up here and I refuse to go back!” Chloe followed her, pulling that suitcase after her like a shadow.

“You’re more than welcome to stay outside if you’d like. I won’t call the sheriff on you Kitten, promise.”

She kicked open the screen door with her booted foot and set the wood next to the large stone fireplace. Everything was just like the brochure- the nice leather couches and gorgeous wood finish. There was a large set of stairs leading up to a loft and the one-bedroom the place had to offer. A moose head that Chloe could do without was situated right near the second landing, staring blankly at her.

The stranger wiped her hands down her jeans, leaving streaky marks as she let out a sigh and faced Chloe, quirking a brow at the woman who rested in the doorway. Waiting for an invitation in, one that she wasn’t going to get.

“Look, Red, I’ll call the landlord right now. We’ll get it situated.”

Chloe seemed to be happy enough with that answer as she took the last dastardly step into the place and set her suitcase by the door. She ran her fingers against the furniture, feeling the cool leather and the grooved wood as the woman called. She could hear the muffled conversation from the kitchen but not well enough.

She didn’t know where the sudden change of heart came from- but she didn’t question it. Maybe it was the deep-rooted need for both of them to not share a cabin for the next month. Especially one that only came equipped with one bedroom and not a very big bathroom. Chloe should have booked a trip to Cabo, but instead, she traded the luxury for childhood memories.

“Well, bad news and good news.” She exited the kitchen, shutting the phone off with a muted beep. “We are double-booked for the month.”

Chloe took a steady breath “And the good news?”

“You’re not the one who fucked it all up- they are.” She crossed her arms over her chest and moved that terribly cold stare from Chloe’s feet all the way to her own eyes. “But… I’ll take the couch for the first week.”

“You think I’m staying here with you?” She asked.

“Well Kitten I don’t see much of another choice. Unless you want to brave the road back to town, and I don’t see much sense in trying. There’s a big storm coming. Don’t you watch the news?”

No, she hadn’t. But she could feel the electricity sparking in the air the second she stepped off the bus at the base of the long drive. Large oak trees were swaying in the hot slight breeze, their leaves overturned to display the meek belly of green. A sign that the tides were turning and that it was best to stock up on bread, milk, and evidently firewood, that would be too soaked to ignite if she had waited any longer.

Chloe conceded and let the screen door slide shut behind her before she flopped down on the nearest leather couch. How was she supposed to get any writing done now?

“Dinner’s ready, Red.” The stranger spoke from the doorway, and Chloe’s stomach clenched. The sun had pulled behind the base of the water hours ago and the wind had picked up speed as it yowled like a wounded animal. Chloe had pooled herself at the end of the sofa, a fire warming the side of her face as she watched the flames dance across the pages of the nearest book she had pilfered.

She didn’t want to eat the stranger’s food- didn’t’ want to admit that the stew she had been cooking for the last five hours actually smelled good. It’s broth salty and contrasting to large chunks of sautéed meat and potato. But her stomach growled and tightened and she couldn’t focus on Rudyard Kipling’s words anymore.

“I promise I didn’t slip any arsenic in here.” The stranger continued “Though, I would love to have this place all to myself.”

Chloe scoffed but peeled back the blanket draped over her legs and made her way to the kitchen. It was smaller than she remembered, or maybe she was just the small one and it was always a one-lane room that forced the two of them closer together than she ever wanted to be. The woman ladled a good helping into two bowls and slid one across the island, passing Chloe a spoon.

She waited until the first bite was taken, steamy broth warming her cheeks as she watched the woman chew triumphantly. Refusing to break eye contact. “See, no poison Kitten.”

“I have a name, you know.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of coming by it.”

The woman glared “Chloe.”

She shoved the spoon in her mouth then, taking in the sudden burst of flavor that washed over her taste buds. Chloe let the moan escape her throat without even thinking, chewing thoughtfully before getting a good look at the cocky smile that the stranger had to offer. Degrading.

“Good right? It was my mother’s recipe- but I’ve tweaked it a little.”

Chloe nodded slowly and dipped the spoon back into the bowl for another taste. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“Beca Mitchell.”

Beca Mitchell- seemed familiar in a way of passing that Chloe couldn’t quite pinpoint yet. Something she could recognize in passing. Skimming the magazines at checkout, recalling that one random fact about how fast a jellyfish could swim, or the size of an average elephant foot. She would smile at the cashier and replace the small pad of paper instead of putting it on the black belt, just like the one in front of her did, and the one behind her as well.

“I used to come up here with my father.” Chloe said after the silence “That’s the only reason I’m here. To clear my head, get some clarity for my new book- and trust me this is less than ideal for all of us.”

“Mm, you’re a writer?”

Beca didn’t’ offer up her own reason for isolating herself in a cabin for upwards of a month, though Chloe could admit that she had some questions herself. Figured that if she put her reason out on the clothesline to dangle in the wind- then maybe the stranger would follow suit. Preferably before she had to fall asleep in the same house as her.

Chloe took another bite of the stew and chewed slowly “I’d like to call myself one, yes. This year has been a little rough, the business side of things. But I’ve had my fair share of New York Times Best Sellers.”

Beca lifted her eyebrows and set her mostly empty bowl in the metal sink. “That sounds like more than a hobby, Chloe. Impressive.”

“What about you, then?” Chloe leaned forward, running her fingers over the spoon. “What brings you up to the beautiful seclusion of the forest?”

She chuckled at that, leaning both of her palms against the edge of the sink. She watched Chloe with accuracy, who watched her right back. Waiting for an answer- one that was better than a simple ‘to escape’. That she was used to giving people.

“I’m a chef. I was a chef until the restaurant I worked at burned down. They’re trying to rebuild, offered me another contract and everything.” She worked out slowly “I have it with me and I don’t know if I’m ready to sign it yet. Hence the isolation. I needed to figure things out.”

“If your stew is telling of the rest of your food, then I think you should. What’s stopping you?”

Beca’s cheeks heated from the compliment, usually something written in the newspaper or given through tight-lipped smiles of those around her. Those who cared too much about the parties and the diamonds that were around their necks and bound to their wrists.

“The luxury of a life like that,” She started, frowning down at the intricate patterns on the granite countertop. “Is overwhelming to every sense you can possibly possess. You have the people who are rich enough to act the way that they do, and those who are trying hard to get to the level that everyone else around them is at.”

“And you’re neither?”

“I’m neither.” Beca let out a small sigh “I just think that life like that- life that needs to be bathed in luxury, and fancy cuisine… I started out making cheesesteaks in a small restaurant by the beach. And I was content.”

Chloe nodded thoughtfully “I was too. Writing for the local paper, you know? Covering little stories about local businesses and bake sales. All of it was simple and beautiful.”

“What’s stopping you from going back?”

“Recognition, mostly. After I wrote that first book- I don’t know. It gained me a lot of attention, a contract that was broken because I have writer’s block. The worst type of writer’s block that isn’t spurred by a lack of inspiration. It’s the kind that has everything to do with pressure. With a lack of enjoyment.”

Beca didn’t say anything, then. She turned to face away from Chloe and started to rummage through the cabinets, not caring much for order. She produced a bottle of half-finished white wine and two mismatched mugs that had different states printed on the side.

“What are you doing?” Chloe chuckled.

“Sounds like both of us are fucked. And the only thing people who are this lost in life can do is drink.”

“That sounds like the start of a lot of my problems, not the end of them.”

Beca unscrewed the metal top, pouring a generous amount into both glasses before she shoved one across the counter to the young writer. “Yeah, well, we might as well make some use of the time we have up here. Work out what we’re going to do. Who knows, maybe you’ll find some weird type of inspiration in the… near solitude.”

Chloe grasped the baby blue mug and took even sips of the wine. It was sour and tasted flat but made her stomach feel fuzzy all the same. She watched as the chef gathered up the dishes and went to wash them in the sink. Hair falling into dark eyes and a tune hummed on her lips. Chloe thought, for just a moment, that maybe she had found inspiration somewhere.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Bechloe fanfiction #request

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Ridge farm memories; Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this fic is DEFINITELY LONG OVER DUE!!!! For those who were fans of the Deacy fic “Always family” here is a scene I decided to do based off the comforting scene Roger and reader-chan had. So no warnings except RAW FLUFF but if I had to add a warning, it would be that SOB Paul makes an appearance. But other than that this is a SUPREME FLUFF FIC. So I hope you all enjoy this fic as well as the last one I just posted up :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@geek-and-proud

__________________________________________________

I was downstairs in the kitchen sitting between Deacy and Brian eating my breakfast while they were in the middle of an argument regarding Rog's new song.

"Put my heart and soul into this song." Roger spoke up as he cut up a loaf of bread.

"No one is disputing that." Answered Deacy.

"And you don't like it because you want your songs on the album." Roger retorted.

"It's not that Roger."

"Then what is it?"

"'I'm in love with my car?'" Answered Brian as my cousin shrugged giving him one of his funny looks. "Maybe it's not strong enough?" suggested Brian.

"What does that even mean not strong enough?"

"I know that I'm late, what did I miss?" Freddie's voice soon spoke up.

"They're talking about Roger's car song." I filled Fred in on the details as he came over and kissed the top of my head before getting himself a cup of coffee.

"Is it strong enough that's all I'm asking. If I'm on my own here, then I apologize." Brian spoke up as he raised his hands in defense.

"How does your new song go then? Hmm?" Roger picked up a sheet of paper that had Brian's current song that he was working on as he read out loud, "'You call me sweet, like I'm some kind of cheese'."

"It's good." Defended Brian.

"Wow." Roger exclaimed sarcastically.

"Is that, you know 'with my hands on your grease gun?' That's very subtle...."

"It's a metaphor Brian!"

"It's just a bit weird Roger, what exactly are you doing with that car?" my cousin spoke up.

"Children please. We could all murder each other but then who would be left to record this album?" Freddie spoke up.

"Statistically speaking most bands don't fail, they break up." Deacy piped in.

"Deacy!" I slapped his arm.

"What the hell would you say something like that?" Freddie asked Deacy as he stared at him in shock. Deacy merely shrugged before Freddie turned to Roger and said, "Roger there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen." Before walking out to probably have a smoke break.

"I know why you're angry Roger." Brian spoke up.

"Why?" demanded Roger.

"Because you know your song isn't strong enough." Roger grew quiet and he nodded before walking back over to the oven, grabbing the bacon from the pan and throwing it straight at Brian who was unaffected by it.

"Oh great, now you've done it. Way to go, Bri." I muttered quietly just before the bacon hit Brian square in the face.

"Is that strong enough?" Then with one quick motion, Roger knocked everything off the counter, all our food, plates, the vase full of flowers, everything except our mugs that we each held as Roger roared out again, "What about that!?!" He then went and grabbed the coffee machine and was just about to smash it when we all exclaimed to him.

"NOT THE COFFEE MACHINE!!"

It's been a few days since we've moved from Rockfield studios here to Ridge farm studio to record the 'A Night at the Opera' album. And so far if I had to compare the two, I'd say I'd like this one a lot more because it had a nice pool to take a morning dip and it was a lot more spacious than Rockfield was because there was also a wooded area just behind us where we could hike, hell even campout if we wanted to.

After breakfast I decided to take my morning swim since I knew Paul would be breathing down my neck about getting all the pictures the record company required during this trip, and of course bash on how most of them didn't include more pictures of Fred. So I figured a little relaxing swim would do me some good, plus it'd get me away from the stress the guys are having to be under especially after what had just happened at breakfast.

As I passed the kitchen heading for the backdoor, I felt something grab my arm and I was pulled into a dark room. I was about to scream when I heard Roger's voice say.

"Don't scream it's just me." I shoved his hand away from my mouth and I hissed out in a whisper.

"What the fuck Roger you know I hate it when you do that."

"Why are you whispering?"

"Wha? I don't know. What are you doing here in this cupboard?" I first questioned in a whisper but then spoke in normal volume.

"Lesson number one you'll learn from your dear old professor Taylor my dear. Is that when you want something but other's won't give them what they want, you protest against them."

"Seriously Rog?"

"Yeah, I stayed up all night putting that song together, the least they could do is allow it in the album. I mean we went with John's sappy song. God if I have to hear that line one more time, I think my ears will just explode."

"Okay one that song is special to him cause it's for Veronica. And second and most importantly, why drag me in here with you?"

"That leads to my rule two, in order to get this less biased, you need people to support you in your cause." I just looked at him weirdly and when I didn't respond the way he was hoping he spoke up again, "What you think the song's stupid too?"

"Well I mean it's—"

"Don't you dare finish that answer." I shut my mouth before speaking up.

"I mean Roger you've got to slightly admit; it does sound like you're trying to do something more with a piece of machinery."

"It's a metaphor (y/n)."

"For what? Your car sex fantasy? Roger please let me out of this cupboard right now, I just want to go for my morning swim."

"Well it can wait; cause you're not going anywhere."

"What?"

"This has now turned into a hostage situation and you're not leaving till either you accept and be my partner in this, or the lads finally accept and have the song go on the album. Whatever one comes first. You are the Rumpelstiltskin to my Mungoblizzar."

"What?"

"You know the two cats from that poem you love so much. I see you read it all the time and you even read it to me."

"Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer?"

"Yeah that's it. Why are they named that again?"

"I don't know I'm not T.S Eliot."

"So partners in crime till the end. Like we pact."

"Yeah Rog we did make a pact, but I draw the line here."

"Nope, since I'm the oldest between us, you've got to respect your elders and you are going to stay in here with me to protest against them. Whether you like it or not." He bopped my nose which made me groan.

Hours went by and of course once the guys found out that roger forcefully made me the bait of negotiation, it turned between a tug of war to see who'd give in first. Until finally Freddie agreed to have Roger's song be on the B-side of the album.

God and all I wanted to do that day was have a nice relaxing morning swim.

A couple more weeks passed and the album was almost about done. One day Brian had told us that he had managed to find a perfect spot for stargazing and thought it would be a good idea for all of us to pack up some gear and go star gazing.

Immediately agreeing after working so hard, Freddie agreed to the idea instantly, Deacy was down for it as well wanting to have a break from the arguing and the complaining. I agreed to it because it would feel like a camping trip and I hadn't been camping since I was a child. Roger also agreed because that'd give him some time away from the recording studio since his hands were still recovering from abusing them so much.

Unfortunately Paul Prenter decided he needed to insert himself on this little outing, claiming that he needed to make sure the band wasn't too distracted since they were on a strict deadline and that Mr. Reid would come and check on the progress of the album, along with Miami.

So here we all were out in the forest walking across logs, hopping from boulder to boulder, gazing at little mini streams, or observing the wildlife of nature, especially Brian. He especially got distracted when a fox would quickly come out from a bush and stare at us before running away.

I was currently hopping from boulder to boulder and of course Deacy being the overprotective cousin that he was said to me.

"Careful (y/n), last time you did that you had a broken ankle for weeks."

"I was 7 years old when that happened Deacy, I'm as agile as a jungle cat." As I hopped onto one boulder I nearly almost fell until I was caught by Roger who said smugly.

"Yeah, a dead jungle cat." I stuck my tongue at him and we continued to tread on.

Of course Paul made the walk seem longer because like every 2 minutes he just had to take a break so I took the time to screw around with him and fill his backpack with small rocks. Roger who of course supported my pranks on Prenter kept watch to make sure the other three didn't rat me out.

As we came down a step hill. I first got on the log and walked down it before squealing out and jumped onto the boulders below.

"Careful guys, that last step is pretty steep."

"Thanks for the warning love." Brian spoke out as he came down next, followed by Roger, Freddie and Deacy. While Paul mainly crawled along the rocks like the snake that he was exhausted and winded.

"Ohh I'm going to kill my doctor. He always said I was in perfect shape." Before we could go on, Brian then spoke up.

"Alright, we'll break."

"Again?" complained Roger. "Brian, at this rate it'll take us a week just to get to this special spot you found."

"Look I don't like it either but since it's not too far from here we'll just rest for a bit, allow Paul to catch his breath and we'll walk the rest of the way. Just chill Roger." He then walked on ahead with Deacy and Fred walking alongside them to talk while I slowly sneaked back behind Paul who had taken his backpack off and I proceeded to quickly fill more pockets of his bag with rocks.

"God I'm in such bad shape. Someone had me my water, I can't move."

"I got it." I said. I soon found his water bottle lying between the two boulders that we were sitting on top of but what I found interesting was the little lizard just a couple inches from his water bottle just sunning on the rock. A smirk spread across my face as I whispered, "Brilliant."

I grabbed the lizard which squirmed between my fingers till I set her down on Paul's bottle. I turned to Roger to see him trying to hold in his laughter as I said as I handed Paul his water bottle.

"Here you go Paul." He took it without even looking at me let alone thanking me as he immediately began to douse his water down his throat. A split second later he let out a scream as he fell off the boulder and screamed like a little girl waving his arms in a shooing motion as his legs spasmed.

"What's happened?" asked Deacy. I then grabbed the female lizard and said as I held her gently between my fingers.

"This cute little girl made herself home on Paul's water bottle." I stroked her long tail as Freddie said.

"Be thankful it was just a lizard Paul. It could've been a lot worse you know."

"Oh right, right you're right Freddie. I'll be fine, thank you." I rolled my eyes as did Roger and pretty much the rest of the guys minus Fred because we all knew of Paul's infatuation with Fred. I then held the lizard out towards Paul so that when he turned after milking his praises, the second he turned the lizard squeaking in his face making Paul shriek out as he told me, "Get that bloody thing away from me! I hate things that crawl!"

Wow then I pity the poor child that you'll have to bear one of these days Paul, though I hope you never reproduce your poisonous seeds.

"How can you even touch that, I thought girls were supposed to hate things like that? Just—put it away!"

"Okay, okay I'll put her down." I muttered as I stood up before an even better idea came to mind. I slowly leaned over Paul's head and placed the lizard on top of his head.

"Rog, (n/n)." Deacy spoke up.

"What?" Both Roger and I chorused alarmed almost fearing I had been caught.

"Brian, Freddie and I will take the lead. You two help Paul, okay?" As the three of them walked ahead, Roger came up beside me before Paul as the mustached arsehole muttered as he stood himself up with his backpack once again on his back.

"Sure you'll help me. Right over a cliff you'll help me." He then walked on ahead complaining and muttering in pain as Roger whispered to me.

"Not a bad idea."

"Yeah see any cliffs? I doubt he's got anyone that'll really miss him." We turned towards Paul who was still muttering in agony as I spoke up in mock sympathy. "Need some help Prenter?" He stopped in his place and turned towards me as he sneered through his forked tongue.

"Not from you Deacon. Don't think I can't see the She-devil behind that angel face of yours. One more trick out of you lass and I promise I will make your life hell from the day this album takes off into the charts. Got it?" Roger protectively wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I was unaffected by Paul's empty threat before he turned around.

"Got it, Norman Bates." I muttered. Roger snickered as Paul froze and turned around and hissed out.

"What did you call me?"

"Nothing, nothing she didn't say anything. Norman Bates." Roger muttered as the two of us walked past him. He muttered the name to me and I softly snickered as Roger stopped to say, "Oh by the way Prenter, I think I saw something on your head." He then turned back and followed behind me.

The two of us hid behind a tree while Roger peeked out and I could hear Paul scream before it was silenced for all but his whimpering.

"Oh my god." Roger was almost in complete hysterics. "You brilliant She-devil it went in his mouth."

"Oh that poor lizard." We fist-bumped each other as we saw the guys coming around as Brian was asking what happened now as Paul was now coughing and groaning in disgust.

"What.....happened now?" asked Freddie panting. Paul was gasping like a fish out of water but I did manage to hear.

"Ask—her....." I then heard Deacy sigh heavily and I could just feel him looking behind him towards the tree we were hiding. Roger and I peeked out innocently as Roger said.

"Oh come off it Deacy what did she do? She was by my side the entire time."

Finally we reached Brian's spot. It was a nice open meadow filled with beautiful wildflowers as far as the eye could see. All in various species and colors, there was also some points when the creatures of the forest would peek out like deer, does with their fawns, badgers, foxes and even a couple of hedgehogs.

I definitely got some good pictures of the wildlife as well as the flowers and of course the boys. By nightfall we were all gathered around and I'll admit Brian was right, this was the perfect spot for stargazing. I mean you look up and there's just billions and billions of them.

"Wow Brian, you—were right this is.....gorgeous." said Deacy.

"Told you." Brian spoke up.

"It's so unreal of just how many stars there really are in the sky." Said Freddie.

"I could live here forever if it meant getting to look at this every night." I said in awe.

"I agree with you on that love." Brian said.

"Hey Brian, do you ever wonder what lies beyond our world? I mean as an astrophysics major does it ever occur to you that maybe we're not the only beings in the universe?" I asked him.

"That's always the question love, and that's why astronauts and the people at NASA always work so hard. We've already managed to colonize the moon, who knows what we'll be able to accomplish in the future. And maybe we might discover something far beyond our solar system."

"Cool." I said in awe. "Hey Bri?"

"Hmm?"

"How—how do constellations get named? I mean do the astronomers just look at an image and just say 'oh hey we'll name this the Big Dipper and little dipper' or is it more scientifically?"

"Oh don't get him started (n/n), we'll be here all night." Roger spoke up. Brian scowled at Roger but said.

"Ignore him (y/n), he's just jealous you're not asking questions about dentistry."

"You know I changed my major to biology." Roger pointed out but Brian only chuckled and sat up allowing me to go up to him and actually rest my head on his lap as he spoke.

"Well to answer your question (y/n), it's sometimes varies. It sometimes does deal with the actual formation that the stars make, but that's because their names have dated back to the ancient Greek and Roman days when the first astronomers began mapping the stars. We've just added more onto what was previously said."

"So what did you do for your major?" I asked.

"My current thesis is about the radical velocities in zodiacal dust cloud. I completed it just last year but I'm putting in on hold for publication for a while due to my commitment here."

"Will you ever get it published?" I asked.

"Someday. It'd be ashamed and a waste of my time if I didn't. Hours spent doing research on my thesis and everything for it to not be shared with the field of astrophysics."

"You know science was always my favorite subject, I especially loved it when we got to do the astronomy section."

"Really?"

"It's true. Ever since primary school she's been obsessed with space, planets and the stars." Deacy spoke up.

"Now not to judge on why you picked up photography, but why didn't you try to go for a science degree?"

"Because every boy in my grade always said 'science isn't for girls'. I got teased about it relentlessly. Then one day after coming home with a bloody nose I decided to keep my mouth shut and find something else."

"Well they were obviously jealous that a girl was not only cute but too smart for their feeble little minds." Proclaimed Freddie. I blushed after remembering the baby pictures of me that the boys have seen when they all came to visit me and aunt Lillian on my birthday just a few months ago. Of course Deacy helped out with the embarrassment just to irk me.

"Freddie's right love. I won't tell you to change your dream because you've got a future in photography, but if it doesn't work out then you should try to give science another chance. Clever girl like you, I know you'll get far." Said Brian.

"You mean that?"

"Of course." He playfully poked the tip of my nose which made me laugh as we continued to observe the stars. With the gentle strokes he was giving my head, the sound of the crickets making a beautiful symphony and the beauty of the stars, I soon found myself falling asleep in Brian's lap.

*3rd Person POV*

Brian looked down to see (y/n) asleep in his lap. He smiled softly and softly whispered to the boys.

"Lads, take a look." Freddie awed softly and said.

"She's like a cat when she sleeps."

"I think it is time we head back to the house." Answered Deacy.

"About time." Paul muttered as he stood up. Roger and Deacy glared at Paul. Brian gently picked her up and to help make the trip easier so that she wouldn't wake up, he placed her on Deacy's back and he gripped his cousin's legs while Brian adjusted her arms around her cousin's neck.

Feeling the transition, (y/n) buried her face into her cousin's neck, his long hair gently tickling her face and the five of them headed back to the house.

Once they got there, Deacy and Brian helped (y/n) into her bed, Brian helped eased (y/n) into the bed while Deacy covered and tucked her in. The two of them kissed her goodnight and whispered their goodnights to her before heading off to their rooms.

The stress of making an album is straining, so its always nice to find those little spaces in between to find the time to have some fun and keep the peace. Whether it's a nice relaxing swim in the summer heat, having fun with the farm animals, or just stargazing in the cool summer heat.

Luckily with Queen they managed to find the time to do it, especially when their little mini-Deacy was around. Because they hated for her to be bored, so they always made time to pull anything that might interest her just to make her day better. And when she was happy, they were happy.

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blissfulalchemist · 4 years

Text

Coming Home

A chapter in Chance’s story. Thank you so much to the wonderful @risenlucifer for your edits and advice on this piece. I hope you enjoy reading it again. And I hope everyone else that reads it does also. 3,800 word count.

Chance walked into the Spread Eagle tired more than he ever had been in his life. He just finished taking back the small town of Falls End by himself, well almost Boomer helped too. Boomer had stayed outside apparently knowing what to do when he came to the bar. Good old owners in small towns. He took a seat at the bar, placing the backpack he wore beside the bar stool, he almost fell asleep right then and there. Well almost, the clinking and rattling of glass had him look up to his left to see a woman with blond hair in a blue flannel and jeans walking down stairs with crates. Chance leapt up to help her before she dropped them or fell down herself.

She was startled as he took the top two off, “Thanks for that,” she blew the loose bangs from her eyes, “And for taking the town back for us.” He followed her to the bar setting the crates down on the counter.

“It was no problem. Got to do my part around here. Everyone else is,” he held his hand out to her. “Name’s Chance by the way.”

She shook it, “I’m Mary May. Would have told you sooner but well was kind of hard too.” They both chuckled. Bullets and chaos didn’t leave much room for proper introductions. “Can I get you a drink? Least I can do for ya.”

The door behind Chance opened up and a black man with glasses walked in, his pastor’s collar barely disguised by a bulletproof vest. “Well,” a big grin appearing on his face, “ if it isn’t the deputy that saved Falls End.” He clapped a hand on Chance's shoulder, “We haven’t met, I'm Pastor Jerome.”

“Chance. Nice to meet you sir,” Chance was sure they had met before but wasn’t quite sure how or when. Mary May held out a beer bottle to him, but he held a hand up, “Sorry none for me. Beer’s-” He shook his head, “Let’s just say I got into too much trouble with it.” Mary May shrugged and took it for herself.

“You want some water then? Or a can of soda? I think we still have a few cans somewhere.”

“Soda is just fine thank you.” He was handed a can and a beer was being passed to Jerome.

“You did a big favor to this town, Chance,” he took a bottle Mary May handed to him, “Sounds like you’ve been doing good all over the place in Hope County.”

Chance glanced down to the backpack near the bar, the zipper open just enough for the silver to gleam slightly in the light of the bar. “I- Well- Thank you sir,” he was a little uncomfortable with the praise. He turned back to Jerome, “I’d be a disgrace to my old man if I didn’t help this place out.”

“Your father was from here?” Mary asked, surprised as she came up from her crouch sliding a cold can to Chance.

He let the cool of the can calm his mind, “Well my grandfather mostly,” he picked at the tab on the can, “my dad took to living with his mom closer to Missoula until she decided being a mom was boring.”

“Wow,” Mary frowned while taking another drink, “that sucks.”

“Yeah,” Chance popped the tab taking a long gulp, “Ruicknar men don’t have the best track record when it comes to women.”

Jerome looked at him, his face curious, “Did you say Ruicknar?” Chance nodded. “You’re Mickey’s grandson aren’t you?”

“The one and only. Why? Did you know him?”

Mary’s eyes widened, “Know him? Chance everyone here knew him. Those that didn’t knew about him.” She said her mouth curving into amusement, “My old man got arrested by him when he was a teenager.” She laughed at the memory. “This is a small town and he was a good man, Chance.” She paused, her face becoming tinged with sympathy, “We were all sad to hear when he passed away.”

Chance looked down at his bag sadly, “Sorry about not doing anything for him here. I should have, I knew how much this place meant to him. I just-” Chance held his breath letting it out through his nose, bringing his bag up to the stool, “Did you guys hold a memorial for him up here?”

“Some did but by then the cult had a bigger hold on this place, most of the people took their leave if they could.” Mary took another swig before trading her empty bottle for a fresh one, “Why? Did you want to have a service for him still?”

Chance tightened his grip on the silver chrome urn in his hands, “I should I didn’t have a proper memorial or service. I was going to when I followed his wishes for his remains, but when it came down to it,” Chance swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “I just couldn’t bring myself to come back here. I just-” Chance huffed out something bitter, not quite a laugh, “Some loving grandson aren’t I?”

Chance felt Jerome’s arm around him as he looked past their reflections in the urn. It was the one thing he regretted most in his life. They had a service for his father. Almost half of Bozeman and the town showed up to pay their respects. He was well loved and Chance promised himself that he would do the same for his grandfather when he- Well when the time came.

The news crushed him as he heard the words on the phone, it was too heavy to bear. He felt nothing but sadness and anger. Chance didn’t have a chance to make sure he was with his grandfather, he had a big test that day. A stupid fucking test, and when it was all said and done Chance just felt empty and alone. He was the last of his family, there was no one left. He needed them and had always hoped that he could have someone as he came into his own as an adult. Life, the bitch that it is, cost him that. It felt like a betrayal.

Pastor Jerome’s voice was soft, “Come with me Chance, I have something for you.” He put a comforting arm around Chance, “Might make you feel a little better.”

Outside Jerome led Chance to the church. The church was simple, white with green trim and the inside just as austere. When it came to worship there wasn’t always a need for flair, it should just be you and the one you pray too. At least that’s what Chance’s dad and grandfather said when he asked as a young kid. There was writing on the walls: the symbol of the cult and YES in big, bold, black strokes. He felt his anger rise, his hands becoming fists, seeing how they could have the audacity to deface a place of worship, as if they had the right to.

“Hey,” Jerome’s voice brought Chance’s eyes to the rows of pews on the left, “You mind helping me move this one?”

Chance nodded, setting his stuff down moving the pew toward the front of the church. Jerome knocked on some of the floor boards listening for something. Chance listened with him, curious. He soon heard how one of the floor boards had a slightly more hollow sound than the rest. “Is that the one you need?” Chance pointed to the last one Jerome knocked on.

Jerome knocked on it again, the hollow sound returning, “That it is. Thanks.” He took out a knife and wiggled it in the spaces between the wood one of the planks coming up from the floor. He pried it from the floor revealing a metal lock box hidden underneath it. Jerome took it out dusting it off. He enter in a combination, “Now your grandfather came back here about a few months after the cult came down, before they were killing and kidnapping, and he came to me,” Jerome opened the box taking out a folded stack of papers, “He came into the church asking me to hold onto these things for when you came back here. He was going to leave them with someone else but then John came into the picture…,” Jerome shook his head in amusement, “If I remember correctly he said ‘It’s never a good thing when some big city lawyer comes to a small town like this. I don’t trust lawyers as it is and more so one that deals with real estate.’ That is,” he repeated a twinkle in his eyes, “If I remember correctly.”

Chance chuckled, “Sounds like something he would say. What did he leave with you?”

“Who would have known he couldn’t have been more correct,” Jerome handed it over, “But he gave me his official will and deed to the house.” Chance looked over the documents surprised and curious. Everything looked like copies that he had packed away back at his apartment. “Said he just wanted to make sure you would be taken care of.”

“What makes you think that the cult wouldn’t have gone and ransacked the place? Seems like they aren’t above taking what they want.”

“It was reinforced, or at least last I checked.” Jerome gave a smile, “And there may have been a rumor that it was booby trapped. Mines and other fun things.”

Chance smiled and laughed, “I forgot about that. Good old Y2K scare.” Chance felt a key and saw an envelope with his name on it. “Thank you,” Chance said, giving him a quick hug, “For everything. It means a lot to me.” He held up the letter to Jerome, “I feel like I should read this alone. You mind giving me some directions. It’s uh,” Chance looked at him sheepishly laughing, “been awhile since I’ve been to the house.”

He stuffed the papers in his bag as Jerome told him which roads to take. It soon started to sound familiar to Chance. He hugged Jerome thanking him again.

Chance made his way into a car, getting Boomer in the passenger side, he drove the dirt roads that felt familiar, felt like home. The bumps were still the same ones he remembered feeling as a child as he sat in the back trying to see how high he could fly with each pot hole. Life was different then and he wished he could go back so he could appreciate it more.

Soon he was pulling up to the house. It was built from the ground up of logs that were chopped down before even his grandfather was a thought in someone’s head. The wood was dark and lighter wood areas born from when things had to change or be repaired over time. The windows were still the original windows from when it was first built way back when. There were metal shutters behind the glass hiding the memories from prying eyes. The door with it’s heavy lock was more of a grey due to the metal embedded in the wood. It looked untouched and serene with the Home Sweet Home mat under the front door. The grass and wildflowers poked through either side, having taken over the front yard.

Chance’s heart started to race and he could feel the pain knocking at his heart. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to find in there exactly, apart from the memories. Memories that felt more like regrets now. He grabbed his bag pulling out the envelope with the key inside it.

“You ready for this boy?” He asked Boomer who only gave him a bark as a response his tail wagging lazily. Chance took a breath calming himself before making his way to the door. The key was on an old bobcat versus grizzlies key chain bringing a smile to his lips. Old man loved his Missoula grizzlies and only, begrudgingly, started to support the Bozeman bobcats once his son taught at the university. The key slipped easily into the lock as Boomer looked up to Chance turning his head when there was a click.

Chance pushed the door open and saw the dusty house filled with furniture that creaked, boxes hastily labeled with their contents, and the kitchen in a slight disarray like someone didn’t take the time to put all the dishes away before leaving. The light filtering in from the shut windows allowing him to make his way around the old house. His footsteps were softened by the rugs and their layers of dust. There was a set of stairs leading to an attic that became his father's office when they took trips here. Chance knew there would be a bed up there with a wall dedicated to his books and a table of various scattered equipment. Downstairs, there were three doors. One was for the bathroom still in working order, Thank god for that, another was the master bedroom, only a little bigger than the other room. The last was his room.

He hadn’t set foot in there since their last trip before his senior year of high school. He hadn’t dared. It was their last trip together before his grandfather started to become too old for these trips. Opening the door Chance held his breath. The room was as he left it. His posters of movies and bands that got lost to him over time, covered the walls. The books he had for summer reading stacked on the desk next to a computer that was only used to type up assignments, too old and slow for the modern internet. A journal he had forgotten filled with his angsty ramblings and drawings. The nightstand still had the bracelets he only ever saved for the summers up here, brown and black leather with no spikes or flair, just printed skulls, checkered, and occasional guitars and stars. God I was a weird kid. Chance looked under the bed to see the DVD sets of Sailor Moon that he hid from prying eyes. He smiled, I could use a pick me up. His CDs and tapes all stacked in various parts of the room, he couldn’t help but feel he had stepped back in time.

Boomer came bounding into the room smelling everything in the curious fashion bestowed onto dogs. He petted the black and grey dog making his way to his dad’s room upstairs. His office was stacked with some boxes that had FRAGILE written all over them. They were left there from when he passed away. Chance was only twelve and he had adamantly refused to go up there until he saw how much his grandfather struggled. His eyes fell on the bookshelf wall to his left, there was an open box that had less dust then the others. Chance looked at it “Ray’s Writing” was scrawled in his grandfather’s shaky handwriting. It was empty and Chance looked to the shelf noticing that it had been more organized than what he remembered.

The textbooks took their place at the bottom while the green hardback journals an inch wide apiece took the top three shelves, they were marked with dates and experiment names or ideas. Pulling one down Chance confirmed it was his dad’s research and findings. The last one was beaten up and really worn, it was the one his dad’s team sent over with his possessions, his last work before he was killed. The last shelves in the middle were occupied by black journals also hard back and half the size. There was nothing written on the spines or the covers but taking the first one out he opened it to find journal entries. It was his father’s life from his eyes. Chance took one down with shaking hands, looking inside the first entry was dated 1969, just before the moon landing. Chance felt his eyes water as he put it back. He couldn’t read them, not yet.

His heart was hurting and he was glad the only person with him was Boomer, he wouldn’t tell anyone if he cried. Chance wiped away the stray tears, “Come on boy,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “one more room to see.”

His grandfather’s room had a queen sized bed with two homemade quilts and the frame made with pine trunks, from right here in Hope County no doubt. The pictures on the walls, dresser, and night stand filled with his dad, grandfather, himself, and many others he didn’t recognize. Cousins, maybe. Aunts and uncles that he only met in stories. All of them moments in time that were now all Chance’s. It was his family’s history. His history.

The decor his grandfather picked was what you would expect from a man of his age that grew up in a small town. Deer antlers, horse shoes, and paisley fabric. The walk-in closet still held Mickey's clothes and when Chance took a breath there was a touch of the aftershave he wore still lingering on the flannel shirts.

Chance sat at the bed taking out the letter from the envelope, the paper rustling from his shaking, “Well,” he took a deep breath, “here we go boy,” Chance patted the bed for Boomer to join him, “I might need your support.”

Dear Chance,

If you’re reading this I’m sorry that my passing has come. I hope that I got to see you finish school and start your journey. I want to start by saying thank you for the wonderful life you gave me as a grandfather. I had started to think it was never going to happen until your dad came home with you in February of 1994. I cried seeing you and felt like I did when I first held your dad in the hospital. I tell you there is no better feeling than that, I hope you get to break the Ruicknar curse and have that feeling with someone you love and who loves you back.

I moved to Helena as soon as I retired so I could spend more time with you, a lot of the people told me I would regret moving from here. I never did. This place meant a lot to me but nothing in my life meant more to me then when you wanted to come with me up here to my birth place and loved it as much as I loved you.

I want you to know that your dad Ray loved you with all that he was, he talked about you nonstop when you weren’t in the room. He would be so proud of the man you were becoming and the man that you are now. I hope that information sticks better now that you’re older, you hated hearing it as a teen. I hope you take the time to read his journals that I placed on the shelves of his office.

Chance, I love you. I don’t ever want you to forget that. I’m proud of you and always will be no matter what. But Chance I hope that you get out of Hope County, out of Montana. Your father didn’t ever really leave, but he wanted you to get out in the world and make your mark on it! You need to expand your horizons, meet new people, find love then lose it only to find it again but better. You are meant for so much more Chance. You will make your mark in this world. I don’t know how yet but I just know it. Ray and I will be with you every step of the way even when you can’t feel it we’re right there with ya.

I leave you the house and all that’s in it so you can always have your roots. Roots are important. They show you the way back home no matter how lost you get. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’ve lost that or that you don’t have one to come back to.

A home should also offer protection and so I should let you know there’s a bunker with the most valuable and precious things that can be accessed from the closet.

All I ever wanted was for you to feel loved and safe Chance. I hope I was able to do that for you because you brought back another wave of love and light to my life and your father’s both.

Thank you Chance.

With love always,

Grandpa Michael “Mickey” Ruicknar

P.S. I feel change happening so I hope that this place comes to you before then.

Chance looked over the handwritten words again and again holding it away from the tears falling from his eyes. He was sobbing. He knew his dad and grandfather loved him but after everything he had done since their deaths he- fuck, he didn’t ever feel like they could be proud of him. Hearing their words, that they were always with him, proud of him… His grandfather continued to be right. They did hit differently now that he was older. Chance wanted so badly to make them both proud of him, knowing they already were helped to ease the burden, even just a little bit. Boomer nuzzled him and licked the tears from his cheeks, which he allowed, burying his face into the dog’s fur.

Chance had a home. A place he could call home, at the very least. He didn’t know if he would stay once this was all said and done, but he could always come back. That’s what home was, wasn’t it? A place to come back too and feel loved. The people of Hope county were starting to feel like a new family. Or more like an extended family he never knew about.

He was really glad no one else was here to see him this much of a mess as he cried for the next two hours. He never gave himself time to mourn- he just threw himself into everything and anything that could numb the sadness- but he let that happen now. He let himself feel everything. Let it all out. As Chance sat there he swore he could feel the arms of his father and grandpa comforting him.

When it all subsided Chance cleaned himself up and took the urn out of his bag and grabbed two pictures. One was of his dad and grandpa when Ray was about 13, the other was of the three of them standing in front of the mastodon at the springs. He placed the urn above the fireplace placing the pictures on either side of it. He found another frame taking out the generic flower art he replaced it with the letter from his grandfather. It too joined the little memorial, or maybe it was more of a shrine. His own private place of worship.

Chance looked at it a while, “I’ll make you both proud,” he stated, a determined smile slowly coming to his face, “Starting with taking down Eden’s Gate.”

#chance ruicknar oc #a chance for faith #look I came up with a tag title for them

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