#not even an hour later I almost lost an eye to a fucking kids toy
Text
😀
#so I’ll just sum up my afternoon here#because I’m still genuinely shocked at how bad it’s been#my mom called to tell me one of my cats died and of course that sent me down a spiral#not even an hour later I almost lost an eye to a fucking kids toy#now said eye is literally black and blue#I look like someone sucker punched me right in the eyeball#and for the last hour I’ve listened to ‘end of beginning’ and ‘the view between villages’ like a hundred times#and the best part - tomorrow is monday!!!#I’ll have to go and do my thing with a fucking black eye and a dead cat on my mind#like what the fuck
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
And that's how you begin to heal (and stop Catnap and Mommy Long Legs from killing each other at the hospital)
You were hurt. Not just emotionally, of course, you were pretty much dead inside for more than ten years at this point, but you were physically what anyone could only describe as "devastated". Your back ached with carrying the grabpack around for the last four days or so, you had broken three bones in your right hand, your arms and legs had almost been torn off at least twice, and, of course, the nasty cut from almost getting impaled.
Frankly, it was a surprise that you didn't just collapse the moment the first ambulance arrived. But if you did, then your newfound kids would have panicked, and the Prototype would have been really, really mad if there was another conflict just when you all thought this nightmare was finally over.
You were gently cradling Poppy in your lap when you saw the ambulance lights in the horizon. You had tried to prepare yourself for this moment since the end of the confrontation with the Prototype, but your heart was still almost breaking out of your body with how fast it was beating. And yet, you kept a calm exterior. Comforted an anxious Dogday, let Bunzo also take shelter in your lap, much to Poppy's dismay, even tried to distract Mommy Long Legs with a joke or two.
The cops arrived first. You had put yourself between them and the group of toys, trembling from head to toe. You didn't exactly know what exactly they were going to do, but Catnap's sudden apparition behind you made some of them shiver.
You calmed down the big feline as you approached the authorities. "These guys were trapped inside the factory", you calmly communicated. "Playtime Co. made them as experiments. They're organic, very hurt, and starving. Please put your guns away unless you want to startle any of those kids".
The man you that approached you had his eyes glued on the group, who, in turn, was staring back. Your thoughts went racing to the idea of Mommy Long Legs deciding to attack them in order to protect you or herself, and you immediately just gave him the bag full of paperwork you had found on your journey. He stared at the first paper, then quickly looked at the others, then simply said:
"What the actual fuck did Playtime got themselves into...?"
"Maybe try to leave a bucket close to you. Some of the things they did won't be good for your stomach".
The cop ignored you. Then the ambulances arrived, and all hell broke lose as your last remains of sanity and calmness fought a war in order to not die from the idea of any of the toys you had just rescued ending up attacking a doctor. You came back to the group, gently begged them to be patient and to please trust the humans dressed up like doctors, and to please remember these ones were there to help, not hurt, and to please stick to each other.
Then a mini huggy tried to bite a nurse. You called out for the little guy, who simply shrugged and approached Kissy Missy, headbonking her and begging to be close to her as the strange humans surrounded you.
An hour and a half later and everyone was at the hospital, trembling and anxious, and you were stuck with Catnap and Mommy Long Legs.
"C'mon, big boy", you called for the feline. "You can do it. Just let the nurse help you!"
Catnap hissed, loud and angrily, at both you and the man with the lotion for burn treatment. Long Legs was sitting close by, eye twitching and a smirk on her face as she watched the two of you.
"Why not?!"
"I can survive. I felt worse", he told you, eyes never leaving the nurse. "Now leave".
"Theo, weren't you the one who told the Prototype it was time for us to live instead of just survive?"
Catnap then looked straight at you, looking very unhappy. The growled again before, finally, offering one of his paws for the nurse.
"Don't try to pull any tricks. I know all of them".
"Like playing dead?", Long Legs chuckled. "Like what you did to me?!"
"And now, look at where we are. I have merely lost part of my ear. You, on the other hand..."
You sighed as Long Legs got up from her chair, hand on her missing arm: "Are you sad because Mommy scared you? Booh, booh, Mommy is so scary, Prototype! Please, help me destroy Mommy!"
"I learned how to hunt. You learned how to throw a tantrum".
"And Mommy never had to call Daddy for help when she was hunting!"
"If you two keep on like this I'll undergo cardiac arrest"
The two toys stopped hissing at each other to instead stare at you with wide eyes. You made a "hmph" sound, pointing at your own bandaged chest in order to further prove the point.
"See? I'm all hurt in there! If you two don't let the nurses and doctors treat you, then I'll be the guy needing treatment".
"No, no, nononono!", Long Legs dramatically gestured a half "X" sign with her single arm, quickly going back to just sitting on her chair instead of being all spread out. "You'll see how much of an excellent patient Mommy is, don't worry! I'll show you a good example!"
"...", said Catnap, growling quietly to himself as the nurse was finally able to treat him. "... I remember you going into disiciplinary confinement more times than I ever did".
"W h a t ?", Long Legs asked.
Catnap stared at the window, tail anxiously twisting. You merely melted in your own chair, staring at the serum next to you as it was slowly trying to make your body feel better again. The nurse kept on with his job, and the TV kept on playing an episode of Pingu.
They even had disciplinary confinement, uh?, you thought, not impressed in the slightest, the memory of having to hold Long Legs in your arms so she would let the doctor examine her passing through your mind.
Catnap and MLL were now staring at the TV, little Pingu entertaining them. Poppy was asleep in another room with Bunzo, Kissy and Huggy, while both Miss Delight and Dogday were undergoing more serious medical procedures for their "conditions". The other toys were being examined, and, if everything went well, would soon return to you. And Prototype was doing his job back at the factory at making sure no one would find the how tos of transforming a person into a toy...
You closed your eyes, feeling true relief for the first time in your life.
Maybe, just maybe, after all of this was said and done, you could all live together as one big family. That was what Poppy suggested, at least, and the other toys seemed happy with the idea. And also maybe, also just maybe...
You could finally feel free from all this guilt
---
Oh, dear, this was harder to write than I thought, but it was a blast! I didn't proofread anything but I'm open for more requests regarding my own take on "Angel saves everyone"! And if you enjoyed this, please check out my commission info - it's all in my pinned post at ! garcavisconde! Thank you! <3
#poppy playtime#catnap#dogday#mommy long legs#poppy playtime au#save everyone au#poppy worldwide#my writing tag
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
A fan fic comes to life as Jack punishes Reader for her getting drunk at the club. ***Light hearted smut*** 18+
“Go baby!!” You shouted at Jack while he went up the middle to the net and almost scored but the goalie dove across the net and reached far out to catch the ball just in time.
“Fuck!!” Jack said angrily from the field as he hated to be blocked.
He was subbed out for another player and looked over at you shooting you a smile. You knew he was pissed, but just seeing you there cheering him on made him smile.
“Yo y/n look at this” your friend said handing you her phone. “Read this new fan fic of Jack”
“What?” You said grabbing the phone. It never occurred to you there was smutty fic out there about your man with A LOT of hits. “Jack slid into me and thrust hard… WHAT?” You read gasping. No way were people writing this about your boyfriend.
“Why were you on your phone so much instead of watching me play?” Jack said in his feelings after the game, probably because his team lost. He was all sweaty with his arm slung around you as you walked off the field.
“Sorry baby, I was reading.” You explained
“Reading??? The game was that boring?” Jack teased and pretended to sulk which made his already pouty lips poutier.
“No…I was reading…ummm…” you hesitated
“Spit it out baby” Jack said impatiently
“I was reading fan fiction about you.” You said
“Fan shit? Like what, show me.” He asked motioning for your phone.
“Ah my friend showed me. I didn’t save it.” You said knowing full well she sent you some stories that you saved.
“Aight then. I’ll have to take it” Jack said tackling you onto the grass, sitting on you and wrestling your phone out of your hands
“Jack!!” You laughed as he tickled you
He was sitting on you as he opened your phone. You didn’t even know he knew your passcode, but then again of course he did. He had a way of knowing everything.
Instantly a story popped up. His eyes went wide, then they grew wider. “I fucking did all this shit?” He said giggling, fascinated, swiping and swiping. Jack was a fast reader. In one story he had met up with a fan and her friend with Urban and they had a foursome. “Ooh this one is good, but I couldn’t see myself fucking nobody with Urb like this. I don’t want to see his nuts.” Jack said seriously.
“Jack give me my phone!” You begged still on the ground under his weight.
“Hey Urban keep your balls out of my face!” Jack yelled over to his friend showing him the story
“Da fuck!?” Urban said as he read. He looked at you, then looked at the phone. Why you felt ashamed you didn’t know.
“Can you both stop and give me my fucking phone?” You said with Jack letting you up now.
“You like that freaky shit?” He said holding you from behind at your waist “You want to make a real life fic with me?” He said planting a kiss on your neck.
“Jack stop.” You said getting hot. He knew he could get you excited with one touch, one kiss, one look.
But he was kidding and toying with you because you know he was headed to the studio, and you had plans with your friends. It wasn’t often you got to Miami and you weren’t about to be locked up in some studio with Jack and a bunch of guys into wee hours. You had a killer outfit planned and it was Mimosa time. Jack peeled off his sweaty clothes and jumped in the shower. You heard him signing “You Know What’s Up” his favourite song as he lathered up. You started to pin up your hair and get ready to hit the shower after him. You knew he had to go and when Jack was headed to the studio he was in business mode. A separate shower was the best idea right now.
You went in after Jack. By the time you got out he was gone but left a note. “See you later Y/N” Like you were an anonymous fan fic character. You shivered in anticipation and started getting ready for your girls night. Your little black strapless sheer mini-dress left little to the imagination. As you met up with your friends the pics and drinks kept coming at the club on the beach.
“Oh shit Karesha??” You said as Yung Miami spotted you and you spotted her. You squealed as girls that love each other do and pecked on the cheek. You knew the real party was about to begin.
“Yo.” Urban said nudging Jack showing him Yung Miami’s post. You and her were shown hugging and in a smooch. You had obviously already had a few in the photos looking tipsy. He hadn’t seen your dress before he left and wish he had.
“Where’s the rest of her fucking outfit?” Jack said angrily. The caption under the post “If you a good girl act bad.” Made him go from 0 to 60. “Miami fucking knows my girl is not to be all the way out like that.” He said, disappointed in his friend. He texted her immediately.
“Oh shit.” She said when she saw his text light up bright in her phone in the dark club. She looked at you worried and said “Yo daddy texting me. You gotta go home.” She said hurriedly.
“No way. I’m in Miami babyyyyyy!!!” You yelled giggling. Yung Miami realized you had too much and felt responsible. You were in a VIP area with all your girls, Diddy and Miami having the time of your life cutting loose from Jack’s schedule and how disciplined he was all the time. “The drinks are flowing and I ain’t going!” You said as you danced. Miami knew Jack would be upset if anything happened to you and he was her friend. “Baby girl you gotta go home. It’s getting real wild, and yo man gone kill me.” She said “I’ll get you the driver.”
“I can’t believe this shit!” You stomped. The one time you get to cut Jack loose and ACT BAD was ruined. You reluctantly went home with Diddy’s driver. Jack opened the door to the villa you were staying in as soon as he saw the headlights shine into the living room” He watched you stumble up the walk and held the door open as you passed him.
“Don’t.” You said swaying a bit. You shoved your finger in his face to shush him and you took off your heels. You weren’t interested in a lecture.
“I’m not.” He said putting up his hands in surrender. He didn’t want you to know he thought you looked really sexy and super cute so he acted pissed. “You happy with yourself right now?” He questioned
“Yup.” You said giving him a tipsy smile “You know what Jackman Thomas H…Har..Harlow?” You said slurring and in his face. Jack was holding in laughter. “You gotta enjoy yourself. Life is sss….short.” You said
“It will be if you keep this up.” Jack lectured “Bed time.” He lead you straight to the bedroom and helped you get your dress off.
“You gonna wash the club off of me?” You said giggling hanging around his neck and clumsily stepping out of your dress leaving it pooled on the floor.
“Naw. I want to make a fic with you” he said in a low rasp as he started massaging your breasts. You let out a moan as Jack caressed your body. “Jack took you and turned you around” he said like the fic he read earlier as he turned you around.
“Are you reading me a story?” You laughed
“Sort of…but your the main character.” He said bending you over and tickling your wet heat with his red tip. Finally after teasing your soft space he entered you rock hard and slow, stretching your walls as he sank deeper into you. Nothing was sweeter than being inside of you. Jack threw his head back in pleasure.
“Jack” You said trying to make sense of being drunk and everything he was making you feel. “Please Jack.” You begged with your ass up as he picked up speed thrusting. He steadied himself by holding onto your arms and drove into you hard and fast. You felt like you were on the very edge when he pulled out abruptly and slapped your ass. “On your knees.” He ordered. You dropped to you knees and proceeded to give him aggressive head. You sloppily devoured him, pumping his dick with one hand as you greedily sucked and licked all the way up the underside of the entire length of his shaft. All of his veins flexed paying you homage.
“Shit.” He said looking down in disbelief at you working on him with all you had left. He grabbed the back of your head with both hands and shoved himself down your throat holding you there for a full minute as he writhed and squirmed in delicious agony. You gagged as he let you up for air. “Up” he said sternly as he helped you up off your knees. You deliriously wiped your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum. He pushed you onto your back on the bed and swung your legs over his shoulders as he slowly entered you again.
“Ughhh! God!” You cried out as he filled your space up pumping up and down holding your legs back. It was then that the alcohol started to wear off and you realized Jack was playing out a fic he read about himself from earlier.
“Tell me what you want” he demanded in a whisper as he drove deeper hitting your spot. His wet curls hanging and dancing in his face
“Stop! I want you to stop.” You whined as you couldn’t take much more. This turned Jack on.
“You want me to what?” He said slowing all the way down now in a deliberately long stroke that made your eyes roll back.
“Stop.” You said tears starting as you began to cum in the greatest painful pleasure you ever felt. Your legs shook and you held onto his arms
“Stop what?” He said toying with you putting his full weight into leaning in to tongue kiss you as he pushed your legs all the way back, stretching you more “Tell me.”
“Jack please stop! It’s so deep.” You pleaded. Jack hearing you pleading breathlessly into his ear made him erupt. You felt him rhythmically throbbing, pulsing and shooting a stream of warmth way up into the deepest part of you. You held your hips steady and squeezed around him tilting your ass to clench in position. This is where you had all the power and he knew it. You squeezed every last drop out of him as cream dripped down your inner thighs. He drew out slow, gasping when he was free.
“Geezus.” He said guzzling some water on the bedside table in a heaving sweaty mess. Nobody brought him to that point like you. That’s why he had to make sure you stayed out of trouble. A lot of eyes were on you whenever you stepped out.
“How does this story end?” He said looking back at you as you laid on your side making a trail on his back.
“Just like this.” You sighed in satisfaction. “You finally scored.”
“What did you say?” He said tickling and holding you down to take another kiss.
@itsyagirljaz @killatravtramp @angelbae05 @jacks-daycare @jackmans-poison @jackharloww @iheartharlow @comehomeimissyou
43 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Catch all my content early on my patreon!
"Hmmm," she reflected over the runes pulsate along her Hextech powered hammer. A smile came to her lips as she cocked her head, "Hmmm, yeah this is for those fucking Enforcer bastards."
---
Holy, fucking, shit, I was a fool to wait till early July to watch Arcane. Yup straight before I pulled a bloody 37 hour work week I binged the entire series. I can say I liked it, and here are my thoughts on it.
Arc 1, which focuses on the build up of our young heroes. Vander is obviously a man trying to hold shit together. His adoptive daughters are making their way in the world and their friends are doing their best to help. Right away we get immediate foreshadowing of Jinx's future with her tinkering and her obvious mastery of Chemtech. Even more so we see how they mirror Violet's combat skills with an entire fucking scene of her punching someone.
Now sliding in Jayce here was interesting, I like how both he and Jinx get a tie with their fixation with Hexgems. He will create a new magnificent technology and Powder creates a fucking bomb. In a lot of ways it shows two sides of intelligence. Jayce's was nutured, Powder while backed by her found family lost that connection. Plus instead of handling her trauma with support she fragmented and became umoored from reality.
Playing of the ancient feud was Silco was also a nice touch. The scenes of the mutate Shimmer users really does lay all the groundwork for what we'll see later on. Violet while our primary protagonist really is here to show Jinx's transformation from Powder to her truly unhinged self later on.
Arc 2, wow, straight away we see how Ekko has evolved his friends and started the Firelights. The scene where they all just drift out of the sewer work was ominous. Jinx going on to full JOKER level murder them all with her quirky bombs was another layer of psychosis of our kids. Here we got one hero trying to create a semblance of stability and safety. And one who is just fucking angry at the world.
All the while the cartel under the control of Silco simmers along. Wow, shifting back to Piltver we are rushed immediately into Jayce's rise to power. We learn more about our major characters such as Elora and how she came to be. By the time her mom pops up our connections are more than just pretty faces and simple politics. The council is a vibrant cast of characters painted before our eyes in Arcane's unique almost Spiderverse influenced art style.
I ended up reading a lot on Runeterra as I watched this series. I helped me understand more about Nox and Ionia. And the influences that led to the creation of Piltover in the first place.
Now, as we see Caitlyn release Vi and the deep dive into undoing Silco's cartel more comes to the fore. First, Silco is a solid villain kingpin with a clear agenda and one we can connect too. The story of the underdog, and how yes, to create peace his "brother" basically betrayed him. Flashing back forth between his and Powder's own loss and sense of betrayal. Wow, it really hits home how family's can be torn apart through actions.
If Vi had not hit her sister, she would have kept a stronger bond. If Powder had listened instead of rushing, the entire gang and vander would still be alive. These actions as well as the advancement of Hextech all show how much has missed as she delves back into the Undercity. Zaun is now a fully cyber / magicpunk slum filled with neon glowing chemtech and smoking addicts. Her father's own bar has been subsumed and taken over.
Even as they both head deeper, the pressure on everyone increases. Jinx is busy building new toys and ends up murdering a few people for a gem. Vi's tunnels vision with her own sister means that a lot of actions that could have stopped Jinx arent' considered. Honestly, this story is at its best when everyone is blinded by their own prejudices. Jayce and Eliora try to see eye to eye as Jayce steps onto the counsel. Eliora pushes back against her mother's arrival in the shadow of her own exile.
When we see what Ekko and the Firelights have done it only brings us back. An astonishing work of Chemtech that merges the growth of plantlife in a manner that doesn't extinguish the heart of Zaun. When Heimdinger sees it later in the series it made me smile as he admires the ingenuity of it all.
Now, as this is my thoughts on Arcane Season 1, I'm not going to go totally in-depth on it.
Conclusion
Arcane was the literal fucking gay tension filled series I've wanted. While, I would love to do a super reaction episode by episode take on this series, I haven't the energy. I watched Arcane this July when I had a supreme bout of anxiety and was trying to write my next short. I will however, be putting off character profiles on my favorites as well as my thoughts on the Caitvi ship later on!
I really am hyped for season 2 and I'm already loving the wave of new fanfic I get to read!
Gay Thoughts
Yeah, so I have to add this. I read a pretty good Alpha Omega story with a Norwegian Conductor Vi and Caitlyn as a Pianist from London. It was this pairing that finally pushed me to watch the series. The story builds really well, and yes I am totally on the Caitvi ship as she sets sail!
Also, I want to write Ekko as a trans-kid dating a very - very awkward trans Powder! Need to add that to my fucking list of future stories. Honestly,, if Riot wasn't such a questionable country I'd drop some money on them. Still iffy on how I stand on them.
Hottakes:
So - simple but straight forward foreshadowing with Jinx and her origins as Powder.
Killing off Sherrif Grayson was pretty straight forward, but was kind of a waste IMO.
Violet, you fucking foolish gay you.
I adore Caitlyn's tooth gap.
#Arcane tv show#arcane#league of legends#lol#riot games#Arcane Tv#Violet#Vi#Caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#Powder#jynx arcane#firelight ekko#Ekko x Jynx#CaitVi#anime#fantasy#high fantasy#runeterra#lgbt#lesbian#les#le$bean#gay#gayboi#bisexual#bi#trans#transgender#transmasc
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
festive ficlets: dec 20
Prompt from @almost-a-class-act
Pairing: John Martin x Frank Perconte
Prompt: There’s only one of this in-demand gift left – how do Characters A and B decide who gets it?
In another situation, this might have been a meet-cute, two hands reaching for the same item, their fingers brushing together. Oh. There might be a blushing apology or two, a gracious deferment, a swap of numbers that would lead to coffee, dinner, dates.
This is not that situation.
“Perco, I swear to God, if you don’t let go, I’m gonna just get the girl to scan you through as well and shove you in a stocking.”
All five foot five of Frank Perconte bristles. “I’d like to see you try.”
He has both hands tight on the side of the box, inches away from where Johnny Martin has his own hands held fast. They’re not moving - they’ve already established yanking on the box only makes the other hang on like some kind of giant spider monkey - but the box is taut between them and neither one of them is willing to let go. Frank shifts his weight and wriggles, eyes narrowed.
“Honestly, I don’t even get why she wants it, but she wants it and Johnny I have lost blood,” he says. Johnny isn’t that surprised. His nephew has been banging on about this doll for weeks and it’s been out of stock almost as long. Like all the rest of his siblings, and, by the looks of things, like most of New York, he’s been drafted in to scour websites and toy stores and any other place that even remotely looks like it might stock one of these ugly dungareed plastic toddlers. It had been by chance that he’d spotted the box tucked away behind the Barbies in this Christmas shopping bombsite of a store. Naturally, he’d lunged for it right away and just as naturally, given his luck, Frank, evidently on much the same mission, had done the same thing at the same time. His delight at unexpectedly seeing his boyfriend had quickly morphed into this quite honestly insane standoff. He wondered at what point in the last three hours that he’d been traipsing through these red and green fluorescent hellmouths that he’d completely lost his mind.
He eyes Frank’s wild expression. Well, at least his misery could have some company.
“You going to explain to Angie why her little boy’s Christmas is ruined?” he demands. His hands tug, ever so slightly, and he’s fairly sure that Frank actually growls. “Come on. Sweetheart…”
“Do not ‘sweetheart’ me. And I’m not afraid of Angie.”
Johnny raises an eyebrow. Frank’s lip purses for a second.
“I’m less afraid of Angie,” he concedes. “Are you willing to break Paola’s heart? I thought I knew you, Johnny.”
It’s a low blow. They’re both aware that Frank’s tiniest cousin is possibly the sweetest little girl on the planet. Disappointing her, Johnny reckons, is probably up there on the list of the greater sins, right between kicking a puppy and changing the Netflix password without warning before going out for the day. Frank, apparently sensing weakness like a goddamn shark senses blood, presses the point.
“I mean, she’s just had that flu, too.” The sincerity on his face would make Johnny slightly skeptical, but he does remember having this conversation with Paola’s stepdad, so the story doesn’t immediately ring false. “It would cheer her up.”
They still aren’t moving. It occurs to Johnny that they might be making a very strange scene in the middle of this store, but a moment later it also occurs to him that if anyone in any of these glitter-clouded aisles has the time to stop and stare at them, which is unlikely in the first place, they’re much more likely to be sympathetic than judgmental. He sighs.
“This is hell,” he says.
“The worst,” Frank agrees.
“Hidey ho! Ha ha ha!” says the doll and both men nearly jump a foot in the air.
“Why do kids like these creepy fucking things?” Johnny demands. “Can you imagine waking up with this thing in bed with you?”
Frank makes a face like he’s considering it for the first time and the dawning horror almost makes up for the thought in the first place.
“I don’t want this in our apartment,” he says after a few moments. “It’s gotta be haunted. We're going to get Anabelled."
A small, slightly rebellious thought occurs to Johnny, and he hears Frank make a questioning noise at whatever emotions are playing out over his face right now.
“I got a suggestion,” he says.
“I’m listening.”
“How about,” Johnny taps his fingers against the plastic. The doll makes that awful laugh again and his skin nearly decides to leave his body, “how about we put this thing back behind” - he checks - “Renewable Energy Engineer Barbie and pretend we never saw it?”
“Can I add to that?”
“Go ahead.”
“Can we put this thing back behind Renewable Energy Engineer Barbie, pretend we never saw it, and go get very, very drunk right now because Christmas shopping is the worst and I would like to no longer be in any circle of Hell?”
Johnny lets go of the box.
Frank shoves it rapidly behind a bunch of Barbies in hard hats and safety vests.
“You’re buying,” Johnny tells him.
It's testament to how fast they're both scurrying out of the store that Frank does not protest.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pinocchio AU
Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:
Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.
They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.
She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.
Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.
It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.
Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.
That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.
They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?
Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.
She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)
Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.
Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!
Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.
Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.
But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.
But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief.
He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.
This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.
Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.
Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.
Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…
Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.
Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.
She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.
It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.
Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?
He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.
Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)
Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.
This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.
Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.
Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.
He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.
Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.
The show happens here… And now finally we get to the comic…
Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)
What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.
He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.
✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨
Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.
I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O
But anyhow…
Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).
Adrien is traumatized for life.
This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all
Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night.
#and they all lived happily ever after. the end#ml#miraculous ladybug#sentimonster adrien theory#sentimonster!adrien#adrien agreste#emilie agreste#gabriel agreste#pinocchio au#answered#my art
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi I hope I’m your first request! May I request a Karl heisenberg x his daughter when he first meets her as a baby and dealing with all the new born stuff
The first request! Yes we need more Karl and his little Squirt. I love to think he’s a huge futty dutty about being a dad until there’s an actual infant in his arms.
For this one I’m going to keep the name Ida but no mom just adoptive dad Heis but with out further stalling
Worlds Daddliest Man
Karl Heisenberg w/ newborn Daughter
Word count: 1546
Finding a kid wasn’t the worst thing he’d brought back from the village. Being a dad seemed like a normal progression for a man his age, most would’ve said he was past that age by now. The weird part was he was excited. For decades it had just been him and his plans of revolution and the occasional breakthrough and then just out of thin air the promise of something new. Even with all his cold mountainous walls around his heart it wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to scoop up the small child. That’s how he got here staring at two huge blue eyes, the child just blinked slowly as Karl wrapped his coat around the both of them to warm her up.
Getting back was rushed. Karl was almost frightful he’d be caught with the child and lose it to one of his false family members. This glimmer of hope was too special to let mega bitch turn it into her newest collection of merlot. He wanted to give it a shot on his own even if he was adventuring into a minefield blind.
“The fuck is your problem? Your mom never told you staring is rude?” Karl held the child in his lap trying to warm her up by the fire after she'd probably spent a while in the snow. The lack of parents suggested something or someone already got to them. “You’re right you’re just curious. Shouldn’t be mean about curiosity.”
The next few hours carried on like that. Karl was talking out loud to the child’s who would either stare at him or sleep. He didn’t really have a crib in his factory but a cleaned out parts crate with the least stained blanket he owned seemed to do well enough for the child. He kept trying to say different names to get her to perk up, much like you’d do a lost dog. Nothing really stuck with her so he’d decided to think of a name himself. Much like all his creatures he gave them strong German names to invoke fear into the hearts of anyone stupid enough to come across them! There were rattling names as he walked slowly trying to soothe the child.
“Mörderin? Uh no you’re too cute to be a killer. Let’s see Berta is a weighty name. Hello little Berta…no! No that’s stupid you’re right. I dunno anymore. I..da..know.” Ida. It sounded like a sharp command of power! Something you could scream and terrify others. “Ida Heisenberg? How do you like that one Squirt?” The infant wasn’t fussing as much now, just the usual hungry whine. He needed to find the Duke sooner rather than later and see what that capitalist had for a squirt.
—————————————————————-
Midnight, three a.m., five a.m., up at seven into the workshop. This child was always hungry. So much so that Heisenberg had to have a radio in their room so he could hear when she started asking for her next meal with that ear piercing cry. It left him more exhausted than usual, trying to figure out what different cries meant and how to feed Ida. Not to mention clothes and toys and sleep training which he’d read about in a book the Duke forced into his hand when Heisenberg had brought the child to him for the second day in a row asking if whatever was going on with her was normal. There was much more to child care than just keeping it fed and making sure it was still breathing.
A monstrous wail left that tiny body again! He’d fed her and burped and changed. He had Ida on his chest trying to figure out why she was so angry today and why it was her personal vendetta to keep her papa awake till the cows came home. “Squirt I will give you whatever you want just please shut the fuck up for ten minutes. I’ll build you a pony!” The crying only continued until eventually Karl had nothing left to do but lay her in the small gap between his arm and his chest on the bed. He willed the radio in the room to flick on and slowly crackling oldies music filled the room. After the first verse Ida had gone silent with her thumb in her mouth and those tearful blue eyes peacefully closed. Karl told himself it’d get easier. Swearing he was going to raise mud daughter better than Miranda ever did to him.
Dealing with traumas as he raised Squirt was possibly the hardest part. He still had “family” meetings and days where the pain in his chest was nearly unbearable. He tried to keep Squirt hidden from that part of his life the best he could. When village things happened he kept her in a secret hideaway with toys and her little radio to keep her entertained while he dealt with the problems. At least he knew she’d be safer there than by his side at times like these. Well that was until he realized she was becoming mobile and just how dangerous the world really was.
Karl’s heavy eyes had slowly begun to fall shut only to snap open when he heard Squirt moving in her crate. Every moment was filled with the fear of his new family member injuring herself in his deadly factory. He didn’t have locks on doors or sharp things covered up not to mention the death pits he had strewn about. It got to the point where Karl took a day to build a protective carrier for his daughter. He’d keep her in the room when he worked making sure to give her toys to entertain her while he was doing less than pleasant work. He could see her but she couldn’t see any corpses or whatever else. She was old enough now he had to think about building a nanny companion for her when eventually she started needing more than a few stupid toys to entertain her. As much as Heisenberg wanted so badly to spend all day with her he knew he had to kill Miranda sooner than he expected, he couldn’t let her find Ida and take her away not after months of growing attached.
The strangest was definitely swearing. When he’d found Ida it wasn’t like she was old enough to talk or something but then as she started to babble more and try to form words the reality of her first word potentially being bitch or worse became scarily real. Karl had never cared about swearing around anyone before but something in him switched over the past few months and now the attempted baby proofed cursing was in full effect.
“B-b-b,” Ida babbled, hitting her plush on the head with her rattle.
Karl stroked her head begging this to not be her first word. “Butthead. Yes, squishy is a butthead.”
He got lucky today. No words were formed yet but with how he had to refer to Miranda as that butthead or shouting fudge when he injured himself working on something it almost wasn’t feeling worth it. Besides, kids swearing was adorable.
——————————————————————
“Ow ow stop pulling on Papa’s hair! Release Squirt! Release!” Squirt's little lightning hands were grabbing hold of everything they could. His tools, his hair, his glasses were long since discarded to cut down on her, nearly breaking them. He hadn’t realized babies were so grabby. He couldn’t even eat without her diving for a handful of whatever he’d made to put in her gummy mouth. Though the squealing laughter was almost worth every tug on his hair. Being a massive child himself he’d grab Squirt's cheeks and smoosh them together until her grip loosened up. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, just distract her from the silvery hair in her fat little hand.
Her smile was enough to make his fiery outburst turn to a mear simmer. It was such a huge weakness having her. Before fatherhood he’d been feared and unreachable by all who came against him. Now though, he was a papa who did hair and sang abcs so his baby girl would grow to be just as smart and half as good looking as himself. Every time Ida tried to form the word papa he’d wait with bated breath only to huff when she babbled on in that child’s nonsense language. His baby girl and only his. Whoever abandoned this miracle was a fool and deserved nothing to do with her upbringing. Karl could raise her better than any of those village freaks. He was going to be a better parent.
——-fun antics I also would like to mention———
Ida tried to breastfeed off of Karl once and only once. The Lord now wears his undershirt religiously.
No Karl did not look for her parents. They’d made their choice.
Squishy is a crudely made dog plush. After being beat up daily it looks more like a Lycan than ever
Karl makes her wear a little metal bracelet/anklet so if she’s either falling off the bed or venturing to far away he can stop her long enough to rush over and “save her”
Wet babies are slippery. Karl discovered this after bath time and nearly threw Ida on the floor cause he couldn’t get a grip on her.
The first time Ida got sick after Karl adopted her was the worst Karl’s panicked in a while. It was just a minor cold but he was convinced he’d killed her.
He also does breathing check often when he first brought her home. Surely a scary man like him was enough to give the infant a heart attack so he wasn’t holding his breath on survival.
Well that’s all folks I hope this satisfied your Dadenburg cravings 😅 and like always my request are always open.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Her substitute (1) - Need you
Title: Her substitute (1)
Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms.
Square Filled: Cordell Walker
Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)
Characters: Stella Walker
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, grief, unrequited love, smut, protected sex, scared of feelings, guilt, sneaking around, secret affair
A/N: This is partially an AU. Cordell didn’t go undercover. Emily and the reader’s boyfriend died together on their way to Y/N’s birthday party. And the reader is Cordell’s partner for the sake of my story. His partner from the show will have an appearance either way.
Word Count: 1,7 k
Created for: @walker-bingo
Her substitute masterlist
2021 Walker Bingo masterlist
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Once upon a time life was good to you, great even.
Life was all you ever dreamed of. Until. One day. Your world exploded.
One day your best friend, the woman you considered family, and your boyfriend got killed after you tried to arrest an unforgiving man. You and your partner lost the people you love on the same day.
While you tried to pick up the pieces and put your life back together, Cordell preferred to despair, and to use you as an outlet for his pain, grief, and frustration.
He can be gentle and cruel within a heartbeat.
Emily was the love of his life but Jason was just someone you spend your days with to fill your empty life. Sometimes he calls you cold or heartless only as you gave Jason’s belongings to the Salvation Army after one year of grieving.
Cordell can never know the reason for your fast recovery…he can never know…
“I need you—“ it always starts with these three words, followed by a desperate look and his hands. God his large hands reach out for you to touch, caress and grope. “Baby Girl.”
“We talked about this, Cordell,” you weakly press your hands against his chest, shaking your head ever so slightly. “I can’t do this. We are partners and she was my best friend.”
“Didn’t stop you from fucking her widower not six months after she got killed,” here we go. The sweet and desperate Cordell is gone, replaced by a blank nerve wanting to hurt and drag you down. “Only as you got over Jason like he meant nothing to you doesn’t mean I can just stop grieving.”
“Then why do you come here to fuck me?” he takes off his cowboy hat, nervously playing with it. “Cordell, we shouldn’t do this. It’s no good for you or me. What if your kids find out?”
“All I can think about is to have you underneath me, pinned to the mattress and my cock so deep inside it hurts,” he drops his hat, steps over it to grasp for you. “I want you, baby girl.”
“Shit—” pinned to the wall seconds later you find yourself falling for your best friend’s widower all over again. It’s not a secret you were in love with Cordell before Emily even met him. He just never showed interest in asking you out and when Emily came into the picture, you backed off like the good friend you were.
“Say you need me,” he buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent deeply. “Baby girl, tell me that you need me and that you want to feel me.”
“Cordell, fuck baby,” you whimper his name, ignore the guilt eating your soul up once again. All you can focus on are his hands grip your waist to hoist you up, holding you midair until you sling your legs around his waistline hands cradling his face to kiss him deeply. “I need you.” It’s not a lie. You always needed him; he just didn’t know it.
“I need you too,” he kisses you fiercely, almost desperate to forget all the pain and his empty bed at home when he tugs at your clothes or moans your name. “Give in, baby girl.”
You are a mess, both of you. While you let Cordell strip you bare, not just your body but your soul and heart, he pants, moans, and whines on top of you.
It doesn’t take long for him to slide into you and pin your hands above your head to make sure you know this isn’t love-making.
Two sides of the very same coin hit you where it hurts the most. Every. Single. Time. He doesn’t take his time to be gentle and loving. Its raw, unadulterated lust driving him into you.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he watches your lips part and your eyes dilate when he starts to move his hips. “Look at me.” It’s a command you follow immediately. He holds your wrists pinned to the mattress to make sure you can't touch him gently. “Good girl, always so good for me.”
“Cordell, you need to—” his lips kiss your protest away, force moans and tiny whimpers out of you. “Please.”
“Just tell me you need me as much as I need you, Y/N,” he finally says your name, not baby girl, and you nod, ashamed you let the widower of your best friend fuck you like a whore on cheap sheets.
“I need you,” you choke the words out, looking away, not wanting to hold his gaze when the familiar burn is back, the one pushing you violently over the edge only to leave you hollow in the end.
“Look at you, so responsive,” his hands finally let go of your wrists to roughly cup your breasts. His thumbs toy with your nipples leave them hard and throbbing. “Those tits, so pretty,” he dives in, suckles one nipple into his hot mouth to push you closer to the edge.
He moves slow, deliberate, plays your body like an instrument. You are in trance, only feel his body press yours to the mattress, mind blank once again.
Another deep thrust makes you moan his name loudly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you grasp for his shoulders to bring Cordell closer to your heated body to hold him, even if it’s only for this fleeting moment. “Cordell.”
“So tight and warm for me,” his hands grip your thighs to spread you wider. He loves to watch his huge cock disappear in your pussy, the one only he owns. “You take me so well and deep, baby girl.”
You cry out in pleasure, back arching off the bed when his cock hits that spot taking your breath away. His large hands cup your ass, squeeze it tightly.
Cordell holds himself inside your body, stops moving to feel you clench tightly around his thick length. Just staring down at you.
“Cord, what’s wrong?” you whimper breathlessly.
“Just wanted to feel you cum before I fill this cunt up,” his pace becomes brutal after your orgasm.
He moans, eyes glued to your face as he tries to pretend you are only a warm body he can use, a toy to fulfill a primal need, not the woman he could fall for…
“Oh—” you watch him move on top of you, memorize his features, the way his hair is glued to his sweaty forehead, and those obscene veins in his arms, popping out. “I want you to cum, let me feel it, Cordell. Fuck me.”
“Fuck, you—shit Y/N,” he groans, hips jerking violently before he allows himself to let go.
When it’s over he rolls off you to dispose of the condom, already looking for his clothes on the floor.
You have a routine. He comes to your apartment, convinces you to let him fuck you, and leaves you alone and cold moments after your high.
Tonight, you wrap yourself into a sheet and turn around to not watch Cordell hastily put his clothes back on. You would give the world for him to stay the night, but you know he will leave soon.
As usual, you take deep breaths to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Thank you,” he says, and you feel like a fool all over again.
“I got a job offer in New York,” you casually say. “Do you remember? I always wanted to be with the FBI. Three years ago, they didn’t have a position for me, but last week, I got a call.”
“Oh—” is all you get. You can hear the ruffling of clothing, and then the door opens. “You should take their offer. Being my partner is a dead end. A girl like you shouldn’t stay a Texas Ranger,” the coldness in his voice breaks your heart.
“Yeah, maybe I should,” you clear your throat while you try not to cry. “I will call them on Monday. Have a great—” the door closes before you can say another word. “Figures…”
“FBI?” Stella blanches. “You want to go to New York to work with the FBI, Y/N?” she cries. “You can’t leave me too. Why is everyone leaving me?”
“Stella bear, nothing is decided yet,” you sit next to her on the steps, patting her thigh. “They called me two weeks ago, and I just thought I should at least fly to New York to talk to them. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” she sniffles. “What did dad say? You are his partner, Y/N. He needs you,” you sling one arm around Stella’s shoulders, hiding she just added another crack to your fragile heart. “We need you. You are family to us. Mom loved you.”
“I loved your mom too, Stella bear,” giggling at the awful nickname Stella leans her head against your shoulder, and you feel the guilt overwhelm you once again. If only the girl knew you are banging her father. “She was my best friend and your dad is my friend too.”
“Y/N?” Cordell walks toward his house with long steps. “Is there an emergency? Do you need my help? It’s Sunday.”
“Your mom invited me for dinner, and I met Stella in town and drove her home. If you don’t want me here, I understand,” you try to keep the sadness out of your voice.
“Grandma wants a family dinner, dad,” Stella grumbles. “If I must spend time with my lame brother and you, I want Y/N to join us. At least she’s cool.”
“Cool?” Cordell smirks, glancing down at you. “I remember there was a time when she had braces and was a shy little mouse.”
“Y/N shy? I don’t believe a single word, dad,” she nudges your side. “Right, Y/N. You never were shy.”
“I hate to admit it, but I was a little shy. Your mom helped me break out of my shell and become the woman I am today. I miss her,” you sniff, watching Cordell sit next to his daughter.
“Emily, she always talked about you. How you helped her get better grades,” Cordell says. “She loved you too, Y/N.”
When you sit at his table half an hour later, watching Cordell with his family you decide your last encounter was the last time. You won’t risk messing his family up even more...
“We can’t do this again, Cordell,” you sigh when he leans in your doorframe, that look in his eyes again. “I told you after the dinner with your family we should stay only friends.”
“Y/N, we are friends but—” he cups your cheek with one hand, thumb swiping over your lips, “I need you, baby girl…”
>> Part 2
Walker Tags
@mimzy1994, @rach-12, @jaredpadaleckisbride
--------------------
All works Tags
@yolobloggers
@shikshinkwon
@miraclesoflove
@mogaruke
@shatteredabby
@soryuwifeyxx
@letsdisneythings
@i-love-superhero
@psychicforest
@thevelvetseries
@anaelsbrunette
@sabascio
@goodgodimaweirdperson
@that-place-called-middle-earth
@trumpettay
@zxph-yr
@belovedcherry
@matsumama
@emoryhemsworth
@buckybarnesplumwhore
@coldmuffinbanditshoe
@princesssterek
@xoxabs88xox
@wandering-spiritash
@riathearora
@the-loml-got-nailed
@greeneyedblondie44
#Her substitute (1) - Need you#cordell walker#cordell x reader#walkerbingo#cordell walker x reader#cordell walker fanfiction#cordell walker x fem!reader#smut#grief#loss of a loved one
149 notes
·
View notes
Text
Death By Bagel
NCT
Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader
Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy.
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.
R E Q U E S T
my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers
A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE
“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.
Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”
Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”
The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.
When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.
“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.
Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.
The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”
Unwilling, she shakes her head.
“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”
With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”
“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.
At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.
“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.
“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.
The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.
Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”
Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”
All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”
It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.
And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.
... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.
“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.
"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.
"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.
I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."
Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.
"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.
Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."
"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."
Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."
The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."
I turn to him and elbow his side.
"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."
Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.
I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."
"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.
I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.
Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.
"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."
I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."
Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"
"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."
Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."
I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."
Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"
"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."
Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."
"Okay, maybe not that cute."
"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.
I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.
"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.
Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."
Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"
This makes me knit my brows.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."
Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."
"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."
Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."
Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?
Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."
I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."
"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."
I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."
I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."
Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."
"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."
"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."
Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."
He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."
"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.
Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"
Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."
I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"
He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"
"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."
"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"
"A gullible idiot maybe."
Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."
Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.
But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.
"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.
Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."
"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."
Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"
Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'
I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."
"Of being a fuck boy?"
Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."
Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."
I raise a brow.
Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."
"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."
Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."
"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."
Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"
"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"
"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"
The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.
I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.
"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"
"BABE?!" Mark barks.
I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"
Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."
Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."
Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."
Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."
No one really responds.
We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.
"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.
I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"
Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."
I knit my brows, "what? Why?"
Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"
I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"
"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"
"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."
Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."
I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"
"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.
I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."
Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."
I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."
"Loser."
As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.
There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.
He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.
He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."
I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"
"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.
"I made you two this time," he smiles.
I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."
He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.
Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."
I smile, "thanks. I made it."
He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."
I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.
"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"
"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."
"..."
"..."
Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"
"... Uh..."
He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."
I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."
I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."
"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."
I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."
I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."
"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."
Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."
I shrug, "worth a shot though."
Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."
Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.
Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.
"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.
"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."
"How many lives do you have?"
"9, I'm pretty sure."
I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."
Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."
"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."
"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."
I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"
Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."
I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."
Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"
I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."
He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."
Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."
I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.
Wait... was this really happening?
Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."
My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"
He looks like he's about to throw up.
I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."
I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."
"We could have dated in grade school all this time."
It takes a moment to register in his head.
Like, a really long moment.
I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."
He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."
I break into a laugh.
"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"
I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."
Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.
He is dumbfounded.
I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.
"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."
Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."
#nct#nct127#nct dream#mark#mark lee#mark fanfic#mark lee fanfic#mark lee moodboard#nct fanfic#nct dream fanfic#nct127 fanfic#mark fluff#mark lee fluff#mark lee au#nct au#jaehyun au#Jaehyun fanfic#mark lee edit#mark lee angst#mark smut#Jaehyun fluff
287 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3
Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader
Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.
Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that
Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.
Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)
Read the previous chapter here
You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.
Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way.
--
She should be here.
You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.
The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you.
For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.
This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right?
As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.
“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.
“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.
“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.
“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.
“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”
You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?”
Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”
You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.
“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.
His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.”
You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way.
“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid.
“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt.
When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite.
Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do.
Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.
You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute.
At least you were a hot mess.
The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end.
You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.
Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.
Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice.
“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.
When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.
Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.
When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“
“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs.
You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.
Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good.
“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door.
Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly.
“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.
Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”
Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you.
“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here.
“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.
“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.
Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.
The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”
Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.
Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks.
“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.
Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.”
You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”
“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers.
The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.
Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch.
“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?”
Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her.
The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.
When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.”
You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?”
Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.”
You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.
Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in.
When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened.
Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again.
You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”
Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.
You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.
A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop.
You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her.
You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now.
While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.
#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson imagine#the last of us imagine#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson#the last of us#the last of us 2#fxf#fluff#angst#definitely did not use a The Cure song for my chapter title
149 notes
·
View notes
Text
love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5
summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}
warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death
i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!
- jazz
Mondays. You hated ‘em.
Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost.
On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything.
‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’
‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.
‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’
‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’
You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on.
‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’
Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.
By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.
Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.
‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car.
‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’
‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement.
‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’
‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’
‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.
Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’
‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’
‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’
‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’
‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’
‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’
‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’
‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’
'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’
He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little.
‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car.
‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.
‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’
He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’
‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’
‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.
‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’
‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’
‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’
‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’
‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’
‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’
--
Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady.
No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce.
You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge.
After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.
As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.
‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.
‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’
‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’
‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’
‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’
‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’
‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’
‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’
‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’
‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’
‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.
‘Exactly.’
You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.
Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.
(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).
The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.
Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him.
‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’
‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been.
‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’
For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked
‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’
‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’
‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.
The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America.
Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be.
Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.
‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’
‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’
‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’
He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’
‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight.
‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’
He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely.
‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’
‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’
‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’
After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.
‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.
‘Sorry, that was too deep-’
‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’
He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’
‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’
‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’
‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’
‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’
‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’
‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter.
‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’
‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’
Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.
‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’
‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’
‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’
‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’
‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’
‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’
‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’
‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’
‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’
‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’
‘You really think so?’
‘I know so.’
The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together.
Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.
You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck - you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought.
‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’
Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear.
‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’
‘I had something in my eye.’
‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’
He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.
‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’
‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back.
He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.
‘I’ll call you.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’
--
True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay.
‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’
‘You said library was bad.’
‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’
‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’
‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.
‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’
‘No to what, buddy?’
‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’
Well, fuck.
taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost {message me to be added!}
#marcus moreno x reader#marcus moreno imagine#marcus moreno x you#marcus moreno x y/n#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character headcanons#pedro pascal characters x reader
376 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Little Braver - 21
Hello everyone,
as I am about to post, itunes has just started playing the song A Little Braver that i used as an inspiration for this title of this fic.
I can’t believe it’s already time for ch 21. One more chapter and Rowan is back.
A few things before I let you go. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding. The location used as an inspiration is this: https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/duff-house-p246341 the place is called Duff House and is in Banff, about two hours from where I live. It’s a gorgeous place.
Secondly, I am the worst at describing clothes. so in order to give you an idea of the dress Lys is wearing here we go: https://www.weddingdressfantasy.com/products/light-blue-tulle-wedding-dress.html. (I absolutely detest white wedding dresses)
Thirdly, In the fic you will noticed a first of a Sorscha/Dorian - let me explain. I am not the greatest Manorian fan, to be honest it just leaves meh. Also, in this fic they can’t happen. He is the Chief. she is a firefighter with a chance to become an officer. He is her superior. He just can’t.
And finally, in the conversation with Aelin, Rowan talks a bit about how bad it is. He also goes incommunicado for stretches of time. All I am saying is that parts of this will came back in later chapters when he finally tells her what happened. Only then, we will learn how bad it was.
I think I finished my announcements and I can leave you to the chapter
Aelin’s alarm went off far too early for her taste. Her hand slammed her phone and stopped the annoying sound, then she rolled and hugged again bird Rowan and buried her face in his pillow inhaling his scent in what had become her routine since he had left.
“Good morning, my friend.” She muttered in the pillow then stared at the toy “do we want to go to work?” She groaned and grabbed her phone and found a message from Rowan. It had the picture of a gorgeous red sunrise in the background of a busy flight deck Had a night from hell, but this view lifts my spirits up a bit.
She read the message and panic rose so she tried to phone him and luckily he answered at the first ring.
“Hey,” his voice was strained and Aelin’s heart started to race in fear.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just a bad night and we lost few pilots. I have known them for a very long time and served together a lot as well. Some had wife and kids.” He said very softly, his voice almost broke by the tears he was probably trying not to shed over the phone.
“I am sorry.” Was her pitiful reply but she was not good at consoling people. Then her treacherous mind started telling her that it could have been him and she almost felt sick.
She heard him sigh deeply as an alarm started blaring in the background “I gotta go. Sorry. I will phone you as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry. I am at work on my usual super long shift.”
“Stay safe,” he said with a worried tone.
“You as well, please. I am getting used having you around the house.”
He chuckled lightly “I enjoy being around the house too.”
Then she heard a voice calling every one to battle station “Fuck. Sorry gotta run. Love you.”
And he hang up after those words, probably sprinting out of his quarters or wherever he was. Even her, in her limited knowledge of military life knew that a call for battle stations was not a good sign. That was what all her sci-fi movies told her.
Aelin took a shower and slowly got dressed for work and mentally prepared herself for another long day, probably a visit to detective Ytger
She arrived at the station not long after and went to her office and Aedion met her there a moment later.
She had received an email from the detective and she had expected the woman to be there already.
“The detective is on her way.” She told her cousin while he sat down.
“Do you think we are in trouble?”
Aelin shrugged “those clubs had to be closed down.”
“I know. I am just worried. He has to know by now that it came from us and I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
She sighed again, meeting his worried stare “you are not alone in that. We probably made a big enemy but he has to pay somehow.”
Aedion was about to reply when a knock on the door interrupted her.
“Come in,”
The door opened and Aelin recognised the detective “sorry, one of your team members showed me to your office, I told them you were expecting me.”
“Take a seat detective, Aedion and I were just catching up.”
She took out a thick folder from the messenger bag she was carrying and placed the file on Aelin’s desk “All we have about Hamel so far, and officer Westfall gave me a report of last night.”
Aelin grabbed a file of her own and passed it to the woman in front of her “before leaving the club I called my relief captain and told him what was happening. He made it pass like an anonymous call but after what I told him and what he discovered it was in our jurisdiction to close the place.”
“It’s in your authority to give him a prohibition notice but as you know as well he has a right to appeal and contest your findings and I have a feeling his lawyers are already at work to stop that.”
“Those places are a disaster waiting to happen. As captain I cannot leave them functioning knowing what I saw last night.”
The woman nodded in understanding “Captain, I am on your side and my superiors agree as well. Hamel has caused enough problems for a long time and needs to be stopped.”
“We can close all of his clubs, but you tell me his lawyers bail him out every time. We cannot win this.”
“We have further leads and a few agents undercover working on them. That’s all I can say. The operation is quite secret.”
“I hope you will succeed, detective.”
“We will keep you in the loop,” she made a movement to stand but paused halfway “Hamel is a nasty customer. Keep an eye out. Just be careful.” She nodded at both of them and then excused herself saying she had to go back to the precinct.
Aelin was about to add something else but Brullo barged in her office all panicked “Cap, Lieutenant, you need to come immediately.”
The two stood quickly and followed the man outside and to the area where the engine and truck were parked. Brullo pointed at something behind the two rigs: a medium-sized parcel.
“We were all in the common room, then I came through here and I saw it. I did not touch it, I came straight to you, sir.”
Aedion nodded “Aelin grab the whole team and get out of here.”
She looked at him in protest.
“As a precaution. This is my area.”
Aelin nodded, if that was an actual bomb he was the only one who could actually do something.
“I’ll call the police and bomb squad.” Aelin took her phone out but Aedion stopped her.
“Not here, remember basic bomb training? Radio signals can trigger it. Grab the team and get out of the firehouse.” He ordered her, that was his field and Aelin would gladly let him take charge.
“Ok, but you be careful, please.”
Aedion nodded and went to get his bomb suit while Aelin and Brullo went to gather the rest of the team and evacuate the premises as asked.
It was half an hour later when Aelin got the all clear from Aedion and ran back to the station with Lysandra just as nervous as she had been.
Aedion had removed his suit and was back in his uniform.
He walked to the two women and nodded at Aelin, confirming that it was a real bomb he had just defused. He then handed her a message that had been taped inside the box.
This is only the beginning. You made a big mistake.
Aelin swore loudly.
“What’s going on?” Asked Lysandra who had no idea of the whole Hamel situation, just like the rest of the team.
“Station meeting,” called Aelin as the rest of the team marched back in.
Aedion took everyone in the communal area while Aelin called detective Ytger to tell her about the bomb they had received. The woman had asked to keep the artefact as proof and that the bomb squad was on its way to collect it to add to their investigation.
She closed the call and joined the rest of the team and braced herself to tell them the truth she and Aedion had omitted for their protection.
“Ok, everyone, I need your attention because what I am about to tell you is quite serious.” She started, staring at her team with dread in her guts.
“Was that a real bomb?” Asked Manon.
Aedion nodded.
“Remember the call we had at the Vaults? Only Aedion and I went in. The kitchen caught fire and two people died. The whole place was not up to code. So Aedion and I confronted the owner who did not seem to care. Threats have been exchanged. Aedion and I started working with the police and the owner of the club is apparently high on the list of criminals to remove from the streets.” She kept telling them, unable to read their emotions “the night of my birthday and Lys’ party we went to a club and I did some recon.”
“Is that why you disappeared for so long?”
Aelin nodded “Chaol was there as my back up. As soon as we left I called Pete and told him the situation. He passed the call as an anonymous one and they closed the club.” Then she turned to the male counterpart of the team “at your party, the fire alarm going off? That was Aedion.”
“Our club was a mess as well. I knew Pete was busy as I knew Aelin’s plan so I pulled the fire alarm. That club was shut down as well.” Continued Aedion, not letting the burden of the confession all on Aelin’s shoulders. They had decided together.
“You are two bloody idiots.” Shouted Lysandra “and you thought not to tell us, why?”
Aedion was about to reply but Lys marched to him “and don’t say to bloody protect us. You are not a knight in shining armour.” Her green eyes bore into his with fury.
“We had a chat with the police and we realised the lesser people knew the better.” Added Aelin.
“Not to be disrespectful, cap, but we are your team. We are a family. And you should not keep such things from us.” Ren’s voice broke the momentary silence.
“I know,” said Aelin almost mystified “I was just not expecting an actual bomb landing in our station.”
“What do we do now?” This time it was Elide voicing everyone’s thoughts.
Aelin sighed “stay alert. The police is on the case but I have a feeling it will get worse before it gets better.”
“Report anything that looks suspicious to us either of us.”
The team nodded. And Aelin dismissed them all and they all went back to their duties.
*
The night had been long and they had far too many calls for her taste, but the shift had finished with no more drama and no more bombs and she called it a success, although she could not push away the constant feeling of doom in her guts. That bomb and the message had been clear. Hamel was not going to forget how both she and Aedion had confronted him.
She parked the car in her spot and the sight of Rowan’s reminded her that he would not be at home waiting for her. She hadn’t heard from his since the day before and she hoped he was fine. He sounded down. She had texted him once but received no reply.
She grabbed her bag and got back inside her house, looking forward to a very long relaxing shower. She walked to her bedroom, removed her shirt when powerful arms grabbed her from behind and a blade appeared at her neck “now, captain, you behave like a good girl and not a peep or I’ll slice your throat.”
Aelin nodded silently.
“Good,” his voice near her ear. Then she felt his lips on her neck “you are such a nice treat.” She realised too late she was just in a bra and Aelin felt his disgusting hand slither up to her chest. Rage rose through her “you know? I haven’t had a tumble with a woman in a long time. I might just have my way with you before I kill you.”
Hell no, thought Aelin.
With what little she remembered about self defence that Aedion had thought her she kicked the man in the nuts then grabbed the arm he had around her neck and with a powerful move she just threw him on the floor. His head slamming hard falling unconscious on the spot.
In a frenzy she grabbed her phone from her back pocket and called Chaol.
“Hey,”
“Hi. Are you on shift?” She asked him, voice trembling.
“Yes, out on patrol.”
“Good. I need you at my house. Someone just broke in and attacked me.” She explained while trying to calm down the anger.
“Ok, I will be there as soon as I can. You haven’t moved, have you?”
“No, still same address.”
She sat beside the unconscious man and kicked the blade away with her shoe. And then she tried very hard not to cry.
“Aelin, it’s me.” A knock on the door woke her up from her shocked state. She grabbed the blanket she had on her bed and wrapped it around her and went to open the door to Chaol. Beside him stood a woman, his partner. She had met Nesryn many times before.
Chaol noted her state “are you okay?”
She walked to the bed and sat down staring at the man on the floor.
“He is unconscious,” said the other woman while cuffing the perp.
Chaol stopped in front of her “what happened?”
“I just got home from my shift. I got in the house and he attacked me while I was getting changed. He put a knife at my throat.” And she pointed at the weapon on the floor.
Nesryn came off the phone “detective Ytger is on her way.” Then she stood and walked to the kitchen and got some water for Aelin.
“Thank you.”
“He didn’t…” asked Nesryn with caution.
Aelin shook her head “I have no shirt on because I removed it before I was attacked. He just got a nice sight and a squeeze. I stopped him before he could do more.”
Twenty minutes later detective Ytger and a few more detectives arrived in the house inspecting it and collecting any bit of evidence they could, knife first of all.
“Aelin, this is Tern one of Hamel’s men.” said the woman pointing at the still unconscious man cuffed on the floor.
That was good thought Aelin, they could arrest Hamel now?
“We will bring him to the station and interrogate him. But Hamel’s men rarely sing.”
“So he almost killed me and nothing will change?” She stood and shouted “this man came into my house and almost got me.” And she pointed at the thin cut at her throat “I am alive because I can defend myself.” She sat back on the bed, hands shaking. She was not going to break down.
“You should come to the station for a statement,” said the detective.
“Would it help?”
“To put Tern away for a while.” Then she shook her head “not yet enough for Hamel.”
Aelin groaned and went to get a clean t-shirt and a hoodie “fine, let’s do this.” And walked to the door of her flat annoyed.
Her time at the police station had felt completely useless. They had asked her for a statement, asked her to recount again what had happened and then again she was told that the chances to finally frame Hamel were still quite low. They had no way prove that Hamel had tried to kill her although the police knew that Tern worked for Hamel. She was slowly losing any hope and confidence in the police.
Once the detectives had left, Chaol sat with her in the interrogation room “are you sure you are fine?” His voice full of worry as his brown eyes stared at her.
“Yeah.” She said flatly “I just want to go to bed. I came off the night shift and I am tired.”
“Your house is still a crime scene.”
Aelin swore loudly “what am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe Aedion can take you in until you get your place back.”
“I don’t want strangers in my house or in my bedroom.” She snapped. She did not want anyone going to her bedroom and possibly touching his stuff.
“They have to.”
“They got the knife, and Tern, what more do they need?” She stood and started pacing frantically and Chaol knew she was not okay.
“I am calling Aedion.” The man took his phone out and phoned her cousin explaining him what happened and that she needed a place to stay for probably a day.
Aelin sat back on the chair and tried very hard to not to break down. She was tired and furious and with a deep desire of smashing something. She felt tears sting her eyes and fought them hard. But the rage was like a wildfire inside her.
The bastard was trying to kill her. How dared he?
“Aedion and Lys are on their way.” Chaol came back and sat down again beside her and pulled her closer.
“I thought we were doing the right thing,” she said quietly “that man belongs to a jail. How dare he think he can get me killed because I am doing my job?” She was seething then peeled away from Chaol’s attempt at comfort and resumed pacing feeling restless.
“I’ll go and sleep at the station.” Aelin stopped and Chaol noticed her shoulders slump in exhaustion.
He grabbed her hand and stopped her. She needed to be with someone close to her. He had known Aelin for a very long time. The police tended to work a lot with them and eventually Chaol got to know the entire fire station: both east and west. But that was the first time he saw Aelin in that state. He had seen her run into fires without batting an eyelid but that day she was truly scared.
“Wait for them, you need company tonight.”
It was a good half an hour later when Lysandra and Aedion made their way inside the police station and Lysandra ran to Aelin as soon as she spotted her friend. The two women embraced fiercely and Aelin burst into tears as soon as she was in the other woman’s arms.
In the meantime Chaol took Aedion aside and explained to him what happened.
“Are you okay?” Lysandra took Aelin’s face in her hand and green eyes met blue “you are coming with us, Ae and I will look after you.”
Aelin shook her head “you have a wedding to prepare for. I will sleep at the station. I am fine.”
Lysandra sighed in exasperation “Aedion, you tell her she is coming with us and not going to camp at the fire station.”
Aedion walked slowly to his cousin and kissed her head “there is no way you are sleeping at the station. We have a spare room. And stop being stubborn or I call flying boy and tell him to have a chat with you.”
Aelin’s heart sank. She did not want Rowan to know, at least not while he was away. He was already having a rough time as it was. He could not worry about her as well. And for something like this he would downright freak out.
“Fine.” She yielded.
The drive home had been quiet, Aelin sat at the back of the car and leaned her face against the window staring at the city passing by. The fury had somehow calmed down but the whole attack had thrown her off “Ae, I need you to teach me better hand to hand combat. I keep thinking that I am alive because you taught me some manoeuvres to defend myself.”
“We can do that and if any of the other ladies in the team want to join I can do it for all of you.”
Aelin saw Lysandra put a hand on Aedion’s on the stick. Knowing him he was probably beating himself for not protecting her properly.
They stopped at the traffic lights and Aedion slammed his hand on the steering wheel in rage “first that bomb and now this. I want the man’s head on a silver plate.”
“The police has no proof.” Said Aelin with such a flat tone that Aedion worried seriously. She had just recovered from all the fire ordeal. She could not go through another breakdown. And this time Rowan wasn’t even there.
Aedion breathed out and relaxed as the lights turned green. They arrived at their house not long after and once inside Lysandra took Aelin to her temporary room. When she came back she had a bundle of clothes for her.
“These are mine.” She handed her over the bundle “I have spare toiletries and towels if you need a shower. I will ask Aedion to make lunch.”
Aelin shook her head “I am just taking a shower and going to bed. I don’t feel hungry and definitely not in the mood for company.”
Lysandra hugged her “we’ll set aside some food so if you are hungry later on, it’s there.”
Aelin’s arms tightened around her friend’s body “thank you for having me.”
“Always,” Lysandra pulled back and searched for Aelin’s stare “especially now that the captain is away. We are here.” And with that she left.
Her shower had been long as she had the need to scrub off her body from the contact with the assailant. Remove the memory of his touch on her skin. Once she felt clean again she went back to her room and curled up in bed. She wanted to speak to Rowan but was afraid she would crumble. But the weak part of her needed to hear his voice and know he was okay. So she gathered some courage and called him.
Aelin was about to hang up when he finally answered.
“Hi trouble.
“Such loving words to say to your girlfriend.”
“Keep me company while I walk back to my quarters.”
“I just got out of the shower. I only have my bathrobe on.”
“Cruel, cruel woman.”
Aelin grinned and snapped a picture of her, the robe slightly open to show her legs and part of her breasts to tease him “you better get to your quarters before looking at the photo I just sent you.”
She heard a door slam and a much quieter background and Rowan was silent for a while.
“Are you still alive?”
Rowan groaned “it’s a good thing that I need to take a shower.”
Aelin laughed loudly at the joke. Speaking to him was lifting the cloud of doom that had landed on her “You might need more than your military style two minutes.”
“After the photo I will be happy to get a cold one.” He was silent for a while and she heard some rustling.
“My turn for revenge.”
Aelin looked at her phone and she had two pictures one was him in his jumpsuit how she liked him, the second was him with his bare torso and this time it was Aelin’s turn to groan “seriously, when you come back I am taking a week off, we are going back to the cabin in the woods and spend the whole week in bed having sex.”
It was Rowan’s turn to laugh “you will not hear me complain.”
“I miss you so much.” And she tried very hard not to cry, it would make things much worse and he would fuss and worry. And he was away and she could not distract him because his job was dangerous and she needed him to come back. Badly.
Rowan sighed on his end “Yeah, not having a great time either.” He said softly “how is Elide coping?”
“She just tries to ignore it and stays strong.”
“Lorcan is miserable. And all the shit that is going down is not helping.”
Aelin hugged the pillow “Ro, I know that you can’t tell me anything but are you guys okay?”
She heard Rowan loose a long breath “it’s not the first time we are in a bad situation. It has just been very exhausting and we have been pulling crazy patrol shifts.” He explained “that’s why I haven’t been texting you back. I just got off a 12hrs patrol. I think the whole team is already in bed.”
“Even the twins?”
“Yeah, we have been so busy that they had no time to indulge in any illicit activities.”
Aelin smiled “ohh poor Fenrys.”
“I already have enough on my plate. I don’t have time to deal with his stupidity.”
Aelin smirked in the camera “can I distract you, captain?” Swiftly Aelin opened the belt of her robe exposing her naked form to him.
Rowan hissed a breath “Aelin…” his voice strained “you are not helping…”
“Just cheering you up.” She bent her legs, her hand brushing slowly her stomach in a sensual motion.
Rowan growled and Aelin noticed him standing and pacing.
“Problems, captain? You seem on edge….”
He looked at her in the camera, took in her long legs and the swell of her breasts and pushed aside his need for her “were I there, you’d be against a wall right now.”
Aelin cackled in response.
“Fuck, Aelin, this is torture.” His voice harsher than meant to. Her brows furrowed “I did not meant it like that…” he corrected himself very quickly “I love this. Very much. But I can’t be there and it’s killing me.”
Aelin closed her robe back in understanding “Sorry…”
“Hey,” he said very softly and felt like a bastard “you cheered me up.” His eyes rolled “more than expected.”
Aelin laughed “I guess that shower will really be long now.”
“Definitely more than three minutes.” She saw him going back on the bed, stripping off his jump suit and remaining in a t-shirt and boxer briefs.
“Nice ass, Whitethorn.”
Rowan laughed again and she loved hearing that sound from him “Is it okay if I leave you now? It’s dinner time on the ship and I hate being late because the best stuff is gone.”
“No,” she said softly “go, take that shower and have some food.”
He stood and looked at her in the camera “thank you.” He blew her a kiss “I love you.”
“Same here. Very much.” She sighed, dreading the end of the conversation “Go.”
“Okay. Hanging up now…” he waved at her and waved back and eventually hung up the call and Aelin collapsed down in bed with heaviness and sadness.
Then she got up and wore some clothes and left the room to join Aedion and Lys. They had been nice to her and she did not want to offend them. Also, speaking with Rowan had calmed her fears a bit.
Once in the kitchen she joined her friends.
“Look who has a big smile. Phone sex with the captain?”
Aelin chuckled and shook her head sitting down beside Lysandra. Aedion passed her a huge portion of food.
“You can totally have sex phone with him, Ae and I will not judge.”
Aelin took a bit of her food and hummed happily. Aedion was a great cook “he had to shower and then dinner. Meals are on set times.”
“And suck most of the times, but maybe the posh gangs on the boats have fancy cooks. Sometimes we had to survive on military ration packs.” he explained eating eagerly his food “as soon as I retired I learned how to cook.”
“And you are awesome at it.” Lysandra brushed her hand on his arm.
“Guys, thank you for having me over.” She felt as if she hadn’t thanked them properly. It was a few days before their wedding and she hated being a burden.
“Hey, we are here. And you know that when Rowan is away you can stay with us if you feel lonely.”
“I can always babysit once you make me aunt Aelin.”
Lysandra laughed “hold your horses lady, he gets to marry me… for his progeny he will have to wait.”
“Imagine cute blonde babies with green eyes.”
“I can definitely imagine kids between you and the captain.”
Aelin almost chocked on her food “seriously, Lys, you can’t just blurt out stuff like that.”
“Why?” She asked innocently and Aedion elbowed her.
“We just finished fighting and barely started figuring out things. I leave the whole marriage thing to you, for now.”
Lysandra sighed and did not push. She knew it was a tough topic for Aelin. She and Sam had been months away from getting married before he died and she knew they had the whole kids chat and had planed a family “Fine.”
They finished dinner and Aelin offered to help clean up, it was the least she could do. The three of them camped on the sofa and chatted for a few hours then Aelin started yawning and excused herself to bed. She had a long crappy day.
***
It was the weekend and the big day for Lys and Aedion. Aelin had returned home two days after the attack. The police had contacted her telling her that the house was released back and she had gone back as soon as she could. Lysandra and Aedion had driven her home and spent some time with her making sure she was fine being there again. Aelin, being her stubborn self, had sworn she was fine but had started playing music all the time to try and hide the silence in the house. The first thing she did was to flop on the bed and inhale Rowan’s scent and hug bird Rowan like an addict.
She was about to get dressed when her phone went off.
“Oh look who is calling.” She hadn’t heard from him since their last conversation and although she knew it would happen it would always make her nervous.
“How is my girl doing?” Since they had put an official label in their relationship, he had become even more affectionate and had also started using cute nicknames for her on top of Fireheart which still was the main one he used. All their barriers had officially fallen and distance was the only thing separating them. She loved this new take in their relationship. She was just looking forward to him coming back and finally ask him the question she had been pondering for weeks.
“Great. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding day. I was just getting ready.”
“Will I get to see in you in your maid of honour’s dress?”
“If you behave,” she teased while removing her pyjama “how are you doing?”
“I am on downtime… until some shit happens and we have to scramble no matter what.”
“That sucks.”
Rowan sighed “I know, but that’s how it works.”
Aelin put the phone on the bed and on speaker phone “Keep talking, I am just getting dressed and I got you on speaker phone.”
“I really hate I can’t be there.” Then he stopped “you are not taking another man, are you?”
Aelin laughed. Him playing jealous boyfriend was cute “Brullo is accompanying me and Ress is taking Elide. They are just being nice, don’t worry.”
“Fine, I’ll trust them to keep their hands to themselves.”
“Jealous much, captain?”
Rowan just grunted something unintelligible.
She finished pulling up the dress and with some acrobatics she did manage to zip it up as well “that’s when I need you here. To zip up my dress.” She groaned after the feat just accomplished.
“Honestly, I’d rather zip it down.” Aelin could hear him smile.
Then she grabbed her phone and switched on the camera “here we go, Buzzard. My hair is not done yet, neither my make up, but you can see the dress.”
It was a long light blue dress that would match the bride’s colour. The skirt pooled at her feet and with a squared neckline. It was very simple. Rowan had switched on the camera as well and from his expression she could see it was effective as well “so?”
He swallowed hard “I assume you have underwear this time?”
“Yes, it’s not as tight as the black one, so it does not look bad.”
“Again… it really sucks not to be there.”
She twirled for him “is that all you have, captain?” Then Aelin took a seat at the vanity dressing table and started fixing her hair while the phone was leaning against the mirror.
“I have so many naughty thoughts just now… that if I were there we would definitely be late for the wedding.”
Aelin cackled in joy. Once her hair was pulled up in a nice style she opened the small jewellery box in front of her and pulled out the necklace he had given her and showed it to him “recognise this?”
His face lit up in a beautiful smile “you are wearing it?”
Aelin nodded “I always do when I am not on shift. It’s always together with your dog tags.”
“I love you.” He said to her with a tenderness that melted her heart.
The buzzer in her house went off “this must be Elide. We are going together. Go and call Lorcan.”
Aelin stood and saw Rowan doing the same. When she got back with Elide she noticed Lorcan in the image “Commodore, thank you for joining us.” Then she grabbed Elide’s arm and pulled her in the picture as well and saw an array of emotions pass through the usually stone faced man.
“Hi Lor,” said Elide timidly.
“Elide…” was the only thing he managed to say. The woman had a dress matching Aelin’s. Lysandra had chosen both of them to be her maid of honour.
“Isn’t she stunning?” She teased, loving to see the man actually showing emotions.
“Very, very much.” And no one missed the tenderness in the comment.
“Well, boys… these two ladies here have to go to a wedding so the gawking stops here.”
“Have a good time, okay?” Said Rowan, while Lorcan was still busy admiring Elide “and leave the other men alone.”
“You two enjoy your downtime and your cold showers….” She winked at them wickedly then she grabbed the phone and walked away for a moment of privacy for her goodbye to Rowan.
Once she was done she walked back to Elide who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So, our fearless and cold commodore has emotions after all.”
Elide nodded “he just shows very little of them. But he has been calling me every time he can and well… he has been kind and he actually said he missed me. I think for him is the equivalent of saying I love you.”
Aelin hugged Elide “I am so happy he is being nice to you.”
The two finished getting ready and eventually left the house, Aelin saying goodbye to bird Rowan before leaving.
The wedding venue was an estate just outside town. It was a gorgeous sunny day and the ceremony would be held outside and then the buffet and the celebrations inside in the great hall.
Aelin and Elide arrived half an hour later and a valet took care of her car.
Together they walked along the long path with trees at both sides. In the distance they could see the mansion and the place looked majestic. A double staircase lead to the upper level but they were guided to the rear of the mansion.
Aelin approached a woman standing and looking like she was in charge of the event “Hi, we are Aelin and Elide, the two maids of honour. Where is Lysandra?”
“She is getting ready. I’ll take you to her.”
The woman lead them to the room “she is in here.”
Aelin and Elide entered and Aelin gasped amazed when she saw Lys, standing in the middle of the room. She was beautiful. The dress was light blue. Lys had told them she refused to wear white. The gown was in tulle, the corset was covered in lace with a floral pattern which continued along the gown, and a strap in tulle as well sneaked on the left shoulder.
Her dark hair was bound in a nice complicated bun with some flowers pinned in it.
Aelin took a step to her friend “Lys, you look amazing. You are going to give Aedion a heart attack.”
“Do you like it?” She pirouetted for them.
“You look like a princess,” said Elide dreamingly.
“The dress looked amazing in the picture but on you is even better.” Aelin sat on the bed “how are you feeling?”
“Nervous I think? Which everyone is telling me is normal.” She confessed.
Lysandra looked at her friends “did you send a picture of you two to your boys far away?”
Aelin smiled “I was having a video call with Rowan when Elide arrived. You should have seen Lorcan’s face. The man was speechless when he saw Elide.”
“Oh sure because Rowan was disgusted…” joked Elide.
Aelin chuckled and thought about his reaction “definitely not…”
The three women chatted and gossiped for a while until the woman who had walked them to the room came back announcing that it was time to get to their positions and that the groom was already at the altar.
“We’ll see you up there.” Aelin hugged Lys again and the woman nodded.
Aelin and Elide were taken where the other bridesmaids were, and their male companions.
Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and the rest of the team as well.
Brullo walked to Aelin and offered her his arm “captan, would you do me the honour?”
Aelin took his arm in hers and wore at her wrist the corsage he had offered her.
Elide took her place with Ress. Ansel went with Nox, Manon with Ren and Asterin went with Luca. The guys were wearing their dress mess uniform.
Everyone lined up for the procession and Aelin wished she could share such a happy moment with Rowan.
Classical music started playing and the bridesmaids and their partners were told to start walking down the aisle.
As they walked Aelin noticed a lot of familiar faces. All of west station was present, Dorian was sitting toward the front with Sorscha at his side. In another section she noticed Chaol and Yrene and a few more cops. There were a few men in uniform. Aedion had invited some of his ex army mates. She smiled when she saw a few civilians in a sea of uniforms. Both police officers and firefighters had worn their dress mess uniforms and the detectives were the ones mingling in the regular clothes crowd.
Aelin looked at the end of the aisle and noticed Aedion in his dress uniform, standing proud and with a big smile. His hair was tied in a very low ponytail with a red ribbon holding it together.
She was so happy for him and was looking forward to see his face when he saw Lys.
Once at the bottom of the aisle they stopped and Aelin and Elide took their positions and same for Brullo and Ress, walking behind Aedion.
The officiant joined a moment later and a man in an army uniform appeared and Aelin tried to figure out the rank from his insignia. She had learned the airforce ones but still had no clue on army and navy, but from the large cuffs on the wrists of his uniforms she guessed he was quite high up and important to Aedion if he asked him to perform the wedding.
The man patted Aedion’s shoulder and gave him a huge grin.
Eventually the music changed and Lysandra appeared at the bottom of aisle and Aelin stared at her cousin’s expression once he noticed his soon to be wife make an appearance. Lysandra was a lucky woman. She could see the deep love in Aedion’s eyes.
Lysandra walked down the aisle with a little girl, Chaol and Yrene’s daughter, being flower girl.
Aelin smiled as the little girl threw flowers and bowed to the attendees every so often. She was just adorable. Once she was done she turned and bowed one last time and ran back her parents.
Lysandra stopped in front of Aedion and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment.
Once they took their place the officiant started the wedding.
Aelin got distracted by a figure lurking behind one of the trees in the distance. Her stomach in knots in worry. Silently she kept scanning the area without showing any signs of her attention having drifted away from the wedding. And when she spotted a second one her panic rose. The men were dressed in black and clearly hiding. She saw one of them lift something that looked a lot like a rifle. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Everyone duck!” She shouted.
In that instant gun shots echoed in the air.
Aedion threw himself on Lysandra and in that instant Aelin saw a bullet finding its target in his shoulder. Blood spayed from the wound and then Lysandra’s scream followed.
She saw police, detectives and army scrambling into action. She kneeled and pulled Aedion’s body from a panicking Lysandra. Rolled over his body and sighed in relief when she saw him breathing.
She looked up at Brullo and the man was already on the phone with the emergency services.
Aelin used her dress to stop the bleeding and Elide crouched beside Lysandra to calm down the woman.
Aedion had used his body to shield Lysandra as he heard the gun shots. He had acted on pure instincts.
“Lys, he is breathing. He will be okay.” Aelin said to a terrified Lys. Their faces covered in sprayed blood. Elide used her dress to clean Lys’ face. Sorscha joined them quickly “keep the pressure on the wound.” She told Aelin, while she checked him over.
The ambulance arrived pretty quickly and Aelin recognised the paramedics from another unit.
The paramedics took care of the wound and then Aedion was lifted on a gurney.
“Go,” she said to Lys, “we are joining you at the hospital.” The woman nodded in a daze and followed the paramedics.
“Brullo, Ress, stay with Elide.” And she ran away to the police.
She saw detective Ytger dragging a man in cuffs to the exit and probably to a police car.
She joined Chaol who was holding his screaming daughter “They got two but there were more. They had rifles. I saw the army guys spreading along the perimeter.”
“Do you think…?” She asked and Chaol nodded without her having to finish the sentence.
“The bomb, the attack to you… and now this…”
Aelin’s hands fisted in rage.
It had gone too far.
She was going to take Hamel down.
No matter what.
TAGS
@rowaelinismyotp
@jlinez
@swankii-art-teacher
@courtofjurdan
@whimsicallyreading
tillyrubes10
@surielandiareendgame
@aelin-bitch-queen
@bruiseonthefaceofhumanity
#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfic#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan whitethorn#rowan x aelin#aelin galathynius#aedion x lysandra#elide lochan#dorian#angst
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX
Word Count: 3,087
Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit.
Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.
MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX
Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.
He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.
Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.
“Baby, let her sleep.”
But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”
“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”
Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.
He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.
That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.
That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.
One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.
“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”
She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.
He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.
“She just sa—“
“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.
She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.
He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.
“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.”
—————
She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.
“What happened?”
He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”
“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”
So he tells her and she lets him.
He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.
He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.
He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.
He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.
About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.
He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.
He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.
He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.
She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.
“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.
Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”
“Because what I did is unforgiv—“
“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”
“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.
Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”
His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”
He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”
The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”
His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.
She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.
He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.”
—————
“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”
“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”
Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”
“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”
Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.
“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”
“What do you mean?”
Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.
Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”
“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”
“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”
“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”
Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.
“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”
Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”
“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.
Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”
He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain.
—————
It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.
The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.
Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.
They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.
Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.
He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.
Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.
He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.
“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.
He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”
“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”
Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.
“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“
“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”
“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”
Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.
But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.
“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”
“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”
Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”
“It’s your cut, we went back.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”
Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.
“This is my apology to you, Fran—“
“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”
“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.
He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.
He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”
She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“
“I should’ve been here for you guys.”
Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”
He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”
“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”
He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.
She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.
She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”
Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.
“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”
He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.
“How much?”
Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”
Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.
“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”
She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.
“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“
Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.
“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”
“Frankie?”
He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.
“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”
Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”
He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”
"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane."
“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.
“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”
TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @notcookiebelle | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @princess76179 | @knivesareout | @phoenixpascal | @lexi-b-writes | @empress-palpat1ne | @mouthymandalorianalso | @starlightmornings | @soyelfuegoquearde | @darnitdraco | @green-socks | @the-feckless-wonder | @hnt-escape | @sarahjkl82-blog | @klaine-92
#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfiction#francisco 'catfish' morales#francisco morales#francisco morales fanfiction#francisco catfish morales#i believe in francisco morales supremacy#santiago garcia#santiago pope garcia#santiago 'pope' garcia#william 'ironhead' miller#william miller#will miller#benny miller#benjamin miller#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfiction#ofc#oc#original character#original female character#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction
191 notes
·
View notes
Text
Three Thousand- Ashton Irwin
Another fic I found in my drafts ♡ This week is spring break for me so I am hoping to sit down work on a few requests! 🍑
word count: 2.3k
warnings: cursing, brief mentions of unprotected sex, tooth-rotting fluff
“Ashton! Will you come in here for a minute?” you called from the doorway of one of your son’s bedrooms. A few moments later your husband appeared into the room and walked over to you with confusion all over his face.
“What’s going on babes?” he questions, kissing your forehead.
“Will you please tell your firstborn son that fifth grade isn’t scary and he’ll make plenty of friends?” Ashton grins, kneeling in front of the bed to talk to Ethan. You sigh as you walk out of the bedroom, leaning against the wall.
You and Ashton have five kids together. Your eldest son, Ethan is 10, your second-born son, Jaxon is 7, your third-born son, Oliver is 6 and your twin daughters Amelia and Charlotte, are 4. “Mummy! Jaxon stole my toy!” You hear Oliver shout from the room over. You rub your temples before stepping into the boy’s room, to take care of the situation.
+++
The following morning was chaos, to say the least. It was the first day of school and nothing was going right. Your alarm never sounded, meaning you woke up twenty minutes late. You scramble to get out of bed to get dressed and at least attempt to fix your hair.
You jog down the stairs to smell bacon cooking. You furrow your eyebrows as you take the last step, appearing into the kitchen. A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you see Ashton standing at the stove, cooking bacon and waffles, not wearing a shirt but your pink apron wrapped around him. You giggle, walking towards Ashton to steal your daily morning kiss. “I didn’t even notice you were missing from the bed,” you tell him against his lips.
“Well, thanks a lot babe,” he replies sarcastically. You giggle once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. He presses his lips against yours slightly pressing you up against the counter.
“Ew!” you hear your small children yell. You push Ashton off of you, turning towards the twins standing in the doorway. “Good morning babies!” you pick both of them up, placing them on each hip. Both of them inherited Ashton’s sandy curls and hazel eyes, which you admired deeply.
“Are you guys excited for your first day of school?!” you ask carrying them upstairs. Charlotte, the older twin, only by a few minutes, nods against your shoulder. “X’cited mummy, I have butterflies in my tummy.” Once you reach the bedroom you place the girls down on their beds. “What about you Miss Amelia?” She was the shyer one of the two, a girl of a few words.
“Nervous, mummy.”
You open the closet door to pick out their outfits for the day. “No need to be nervous, darlings. School is lots of fun and you will make new friends!”
You help both of your daughters get dressed before styling their curly hair. You kiss their cheeks before patting their bum lightly. “Go downstairs, daddy made you breakfast.”
You walk down the hall, knocking on Ethan’s door. A few moments later he opens the door and steps out. “Did you make your bed?” “
Yes, mum,” he groans. You pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “No matter how old you get you will always be my baby. Fifth grade will be awesome!” Much to your surprise, Ethan squeezes you tightly. “I love you, mum.” He lets go of you, grabbing his backpack and going downstairs.
“Hey there rockstar!” you hear Ashton yell at your son. Since Jaxon and Oliver were close in age you allowed them to share a room. The door was wide open already so you walked in, ignoring all of the toys scattered around the room. “Mummy!” Oliver yells running over to you. “Hi, sweetie! Are you almost ready?” Oliver nods, grabbing his backpack. “Daddy made you breakfast!” you barely finished your sentence because Oliver was already running downstairs.
“Is my soon-to-be second grader ready?” Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just pushes past you and walks down the stairs. You stand there confused but don’t say anything.
+++
“All right does everyone have their backpacks and lunches?” Ashton asks before opening the front door. All your kids’ nod, Oliver saying “yep!”
“Okay let me get a picture!” Ashton lines all the kids up by height and snaps a few photos as a group and then individually. “My babies are all grown up.” You laugh, taking Ashton’s hand in yours.
“Okay, let’s go before daddy starts crying.”
The crew gathers in the car with only a slight fuss, the boys arguing who’s going to sit where. You buckle the twins up in their car seats before sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Let’s rock and roll,” Ashton says pulling out of the driveway. “Gosh, I swear you become cornier by the day,” you joke with him.
The drive to the first stop wasn’t too long. Ethan slipped out of the car after giving you both a kiss on the cheek muttering out a “see you later”. You and Ash call out a “bye have a good day!”
The next two boys get dropped off as well without too much of a hassle. Ashton pulls into a parking space at the last elementary school. The two of you help the girls out of the car, Charlotte grabbing your hand and Amelia grabbing Ashton’s.
The four of you walk into the school, searching for the right classroom. Once you find it, you walk the girls into the semi-quiet room. The teacher walks her way up to the girls, kneeling down. “You must be the Irwin twins! Charlotte and Amelia right?” Charlotte starts babbling her head off while Amelia tucks herself into her daddy’s side.
“I’m Mrs.Penner, I’m very excited to have you guys in class!” Charlotte hugs you and Ashton before grabbing the teacher’s hand. Ashton bends down and picks up his littlest one. “Hey, there pretty girl. Pre-K is gonna be awesome! It’s only for a few hours okay? Mummy and daddy will be here at 12:30 to pick you and Charlotte up!” Amelia nods, snuggling into her dad.
Ashton puts her down after kissing her forehead. She turns to you, hugging your legs mostly. “Bye mummy.” She tells you, turning around to join her sister. “Bye baby.” You whisper back. Ashton wraps his arm around your waist, walking towards the car. Once inside, he high-fives you then pulls you in for a kiss. “We did it, Mrs.Irwin! And we only let out a few tears.”
“Way to go daddy-o!”
When you guys get home you immediately plop down onto the bed with your husband. Ashton sprawls out onto his stomach, one arm around your body. “Hey babe?” he asks. “What’s up?” You answer him, closing your eyes.
“Can we have another kid?”
You lay there for a moment before propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Ashton, we already have five. I don’t think we need any more,” trying to keep your voice calm. He sits up himself as well to look at you.
“But I really want another one. I think it would be great to have a huge family!”
“I don’t know Ash… it just doesn’t seem like a good time to have one.” He nods, crawling on top of you. “But baby, in nine months from now it will be almost June. The kids won’t be in school. It just seems like the perfect time to have one…” You nudge Ashton over so you’re the one on top of him.
“We’ll discuss it later babe. But right now we have three hours to kill before we go pick up the twins.” your voice dropping an octave, sliding your hands up his shirt to feel his abs. Ashton sits up to slide his shirt off and then taking yours off after. His hands rub and down your sides, causing goosebumps to form. “You’re so beautiful babe,” he says honestly. Before having kids you weren’t small and now five kids later, you’re definitely not small. You hadn’t lost all of the baby weight yet from the last pregnancy, due to being a stay-at-home mom.
“Thank you, Ash,” you whisper. He firmly grabs your pudgy waist and flips you onto the bed. He unhooks your bra, setting it aside as well as your panties. He smirks down at you as he tugs his underwear and shorts off. His hand comes to rub circles on your clit, creating a slow movement.
While he thumbs at your sensitive nub he places his head into your neck to suck softly on the exposed flesh. “A-ash,” you moan out. “Feel good darling?” he mumbles against you. “Yes, always so good.” He places a final kiss below your ear before pulling off. You are now dripping wet from him playing with your clit. “Relax baby girl.”
“Fuck..” you whined already needing more of him. Your husband has the power to string you apart like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. You feel Ashton thrust slowly into you, ecstasy building up in your stomach. “What a pretty girl you are,” he compliments you, quickening his pace. “Such a good girl taking me like this.” He leans down to suck on your nipples, the wetness of his tongue sliding around on your skin.
You groan, knowing you’re going to cum any moment now. It had been a while since you and Ash had some intimate time. Any time you were without kids the two of you always caught up with each other or took a nap. It’s always quick handjobs or sloppy blowjobs before the kids wake up.
You still yourself as Ashton slows his pace, dragging out the moment and all you can think about is how sweet his release will be. “Ashton please,” you beg but words are broken. “Please what?” he prompts. “Please go f-faster” you moan and your husband finally picks up his pace. With one hard thrust that has your vision dancing, Ashton is releasing a hot load inside of you, making you cum as well. He pulls out of you, caressing your cheeks, words of praise escaping his lips. He helps you get dressed and he slips his clothes on too. You are lying on your back with Ashton on his side next to you. “My pretty girl,” Ashton whispers and you beam back at him. “I love you.” He kisses your cheek, sliding underneath the covers, catching up on some sleep before you two go pick up the twins.
+++
The first month of school goes by smoothly. It is now a Saturday morning and you have family pictures planned. You usually do it during the fall but decided to do it this year with the weather being warm. Everyone is dressed in matching colors, you and the twins are wearing sundresses, the boys and Ashton wearing colored short-sleeved button-ups and jeans. As you’re putting on your last earring, Ashton sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.
"My beautiful wife. Still looking good even at thirty.”
You and Ashton had started your family young, with Ethan going to be eleven soon. You turn around and pecked his lips, grabbing your shoes on the way out of the bedroom. “Boys, let’s turn on the video games please.”
“But mummy-” Jaxon starts.
“Boys. The video games will be here when we get back, please listen to your mummy,” Ashton warns them lightly. The boys nod and turn the television and game console off, standing by the front door. Amelia grabs your hand, wanting to be picked up. “You’re so pwetty, mummy.” You smile and kiss her cheek. “You’re so pretty too, miss Amelia.” Ashton locks the front door behind everyone and helps the girls into their car seats. The car ride to the fairgrounds was thankfully short, Oliver becoming somewhat fussy.
“I think it’s really cool we’re doing carnival-themed pictures!” Ashton tells you after getting everyone out of the car.
“Yes! I’m very excited. It was time for a change.”
After meeting up with the photographer, an old friend of yours, she snaps a few photos of the boys and the girls. She takes some of just you and Ashton and then Ashton with the boys. After she snaps a few of you and the twins, she lines you up in front of the Ferris wheel for a family photo.
With everyone in position, she says “ 1, 2, 3, Y/N’s pregnant with twins!” the camera clicks.
Everyone’s heads whip in your direction. “Did she just say you’re pregnant with twins?” Ashton asks you, eyebrows furrowed. You nod excitedly as he picks you up to twirl you around. You can hear the photographer taking pictures of the precious moment. “How long have you known?!” his voice high and squealy.
You giggle as Ashton puts you down, giving you another kiss. “Just a few days. I called Lindy, our photographer, and told her and she came up with this idea!”
Charlotte comes up to you, tugging the end of your dress. “Mummy? What’s going on?”
Ashton smiles brightly and kneels down to meet her at eye level. “You’re going to have either little sisters or brothers, or one of each! Mummy has babies in her tummy!”
Amelia and Charlotte pat at your stomach while the boys surround you with a hug. After taking more photos, you and Ashton treat the kids to ice cream.
They all sit in the booth next to yours and Ashton’s, talking about names for their future siblings. Ashton smiles and leans over to you, wiping the chocolate ice cream off your chin.
“I have some pretty powerful sperm,” he whispers in your ear and plants a kiss on the side of your face.
Your hand meets the bottom of his ice cream cone, the cold cream hitting him in the face. Ethan looks over and says, “look at daddy!” The rest of the table laughs, smearing their own ice cream on their face. You chuckle, watching this perfect family of yours, knowing this is true happiness.
Taglist:
@hoodhoran
@suchalonelysunflower
#ashton irwin#ashton irwin smut#ashton irwin fluff#ashton irwin fanfic#5sos#5 seconds of summer#5sos imagine#ashton irwin imagine#calum hood#michael clifford#luke hemmings#masterlist#ashton irwin x you#ashton irwin x reader#ashton irwin x y/n#me
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.
Wordcount: 2k
Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.
Masterlist Here
AO3 Link Here
‘Hello, Miya-san? Yes, please don’t worry, Shino-chan is fine, just that your husband hasn’t come to pick her up?’ the nervous childcare assistant murmurs her apologies as she hangs up, ready to dial Atsumu to chew him out for yet another display of his bloody lack of responsibility. But it’s no use because Atsumu’s number is engaged, and after five minutes, she gives it up as a lost cause and after a moment’s hesitation, dials the other number most used on her phone.
‘Samu – I’m so sorry to trouble you, could you…? Yes – Atsumu forgot to pick her up again. I’m sorry – I’m at work so I can’t just step out… Thanks ‘Samu – I owe you again’.
She sighs, leaning her head against the cubicle wall in her office toilet. Then she squares her shoulders before heading back to her cubicle, preparing to tackle the stack of work on her desk until office hours end.
She picks Shino up from Onigiri Miya later that night, promising treats to her daughter to persuade her to give up her perch from Osamu’s neck.
‘He’s an ass’, he tells her, voice heavy with sympathy, and she lets herself rest her head on his shoulder.
‘Yes, you’ve told me that’, she responds with a tired smile. ‘Maybe I should’ve listened’.
He pats her back, and she departs with Shino in hand.
A storm blows into the city from the sea, so she shutters the windows and locks the doors, but the house still shakes from the blitz of thunder and lightning. She rocks Shino to bed, and sings her to sleep amidst the gale wailing outside their walls.
She can hear the jangle of keys and opens the front door to let Atsumu in. He ignores her baleful glare and shoulders his way in, dripping rainwater all over the floor.
‘Well?’ she demands, hackles rising at his sullen silence. ‘Would you like to explain how you managed to forget to pick up your daughter from childcare today?’
‘It just slipped my mind, alright?!’, he replies, face arranged into a sneer, and with a few strides he’s already halfway to their room, back turned against her. ‘You don’t need to make a big fuss about everything all the time’, he says, his hand on the doorknob.
‘Atsumu!’ she snaps, her fists clenched by her side. ‘Do you know how embarrassing it is for me to keep bothering Osamu to help clean up your messes? Could you dig deep and grow the fuck up so you can act like a decent husband and father for once? I wish I listened to Osamu when he warned me about you, even before we started going out’.
He whirls around and grabs her wrist in a painful grip, a blaze growing in his eyes. ‘All I ever hear from you these days is Osamu this, Osamu that. If goddamned Osamu is so fucking perfect, why didn’t you just marry him when you had the chance? It would’ve been easy enough to pass Shino off as his, aren’t I right?’
‘Maybe I should’ve - then I wouldn’t be in such a state’, she snarls, wrenching her wrist from his grasp. ‘But my fate was sealed the moment I was stupid enough to fall in love with you instead.’
He snorts through his nose, the sound bitter, twisted. ‘Well, the feeling ain’t mutual, darlin’. Who said I ever loved you?’
She reels back from the force of his words, the bruises on her wrist nothing compared to those in her heart. His eyes widen in shock – but he does not take his words back.
The rain turns the apartment freezing cold and she shudders, fighting the urge to shrink into herself, counting the seconds in the strained stillness between them before stepping tentatively towards him to cup his face in her hands.
‘What’s with you, Atsumu?’ she asks, more gently this time. ‘This isn’t like you.’
Her words break his silence, and he sinks onto the couch with a groan, dropping his head in his hands. ‘I’ve been offered a chance to play in Italy for a year, and MSBY’s agreed to let me go for a season. I just haven’t told you yet’, he finally says, shoulders hunched.
‘Are you going to accept it?’ She manages to ask, a lump of ice lodging itself at the back of her throat, choking the airflow to her lungs.
He nods mutely, and a storm erupts in her heart.
‘Gods, Atsumu. Does it mean nothing to you that you have a wife and child now? Couldn’t you have talked to me first before making such a move? You know I can’t just up and leave Japan with my job and Shino. Are you going to just get up and leave? What’s going to happen to us?’
‘I’m just tired of all of this, ok?’ He shouts, jumping to his feet, his tone sharp enough to pierce right through her heart. ‘We got married and had a kid so fuckin’ young, and there’s so much out there that I could be chasing that I wonder sometimes if all of this is a mistake’.
‘You asked me to jump off a cliff. This is what you wanted, Atsumu, don’t you dare pin this on me!’ she screams back, not even bothering to staunch the bleeding from her multitude of wounds.
He throws his head back and laughs, the sound drenched with bitterness and contempt.
‘Osamu fuckin’ talked me into it – do you think I actually wanted all of this?’ he says, with a callousness she always knew he was capable of but never experienced first-hand. ‘I wish I'd never listened to him, I should’ve just stayed away. Then all of my problems – all of this - would’ve never existed.’
His words finally strike the breath from her lungs, and she chokes, chilled to the bone, unable to speak as she watches him grab his bag and storm out of the house again.
‘He’s not picking up my calls either’, Osamu tells her, when she drops by his store a day later. ‘I could hunt him down for you and beat some sense into his thick head’.
‘Don’t bother’, she says, shaking her head. ‘He’ll resent me even more if you take my side again’.
‘What are you going to do then?’ Osamu asks, the steam from freshly cooked rice rising between them.
‘Come home’, her mother said when she called to break the news, her words ringing clear even over the cacophony of threats her older brothers make in the background about ‘slicing that bastard’s balls off with a knife’. She'd be lying if she said she weren't tempted by the promise of her family's support - her father had always taught her to run for the bamboo grove if there were ever an earthquake, to trust in the strength of the bamboo’s roots to hold the foundations of the earth in its place. But she’s built a career in the city, a life for her and Shino in a small apartment between buildings that seem to burst through the clouds in the sky, and she’s not sure she can walk away from all that just yet.
‘I don’t know’, she says to Osamu. ‘I guess I’ll figure it out along the way’.
Atsumu evades all of her attempts to talk through matters again, and a month later, he’s packed his bags, ready to get on a flight to Italy. He pauses to kiss Shino goodbye, and slips her two stuffed toys – a fox and a jackal, and she almost smiles at the sentimentality of it. Then he turns to her but does not look her in the eye.
‘It’s ok to forget me as long as you remember that we have a child’, she says softly.
He parts his lips to respond but decides against it, eyes hardening as he drops his set of house keys and his wedding ring on the countertop by the front door and storms off.
She does not cry until Shino is safely tucked into bed, and she finds Atsumu’s old jacket, carelessly thrown in a heap at the back of the closet. She holds it close to her chest, breathing in the memories sewn into its seams, and lets herself finally break.
‘Miya-san, I saw on the news that your husband is playing in Italy now. We’re all so surprised you didn’t go with him?’ Yuna-san asks in a too-loud voice, and she has to suppress a cringe when the rest of the office hyenas swoop in, hungry for a kill.
‘We decided that I should stay in Japan to ensure Shino has some stability in her life’, she answers with a tight smile, the practiced statement she and Atsumu’s manager eventually agreed on spilling easily from her mouth. The ladies slink away, and she sighs in relief.
Atsumu thankfully heeds her words and sends money and gifts to Shino, and even calls their little girl twice weekly, so she still manages to recognise her father - she’s grateful for that.
He only responds to her texts once, when she messages him to let him know that Shino got admitted to the hospital for a high fever, but seemed to be responding well to treatment, and would be discharged the next day. He promised to pay the hospital bill, and said nothing more. She does not allow herself to be crushed by her disappointment and stops texting him after that.
Osamu does his best to step in to fill Atsumu’s shoes in his absence, fetching Shino from childcare and letting her hang around his shop until she’s done with work. He spoils her with far too much affection and food, doling both out interchangeably, and his staff and customers treat the little girl like their mascot.
‘Thank you for all of this’, she says one night, when Osamu insists on walking her and Shino home. ‘I’m sorry for making you clean up Atsumu’s mess.’
‘Don’t thank me. Sometimes I wonder if I should be blamed for stepping in to meddle with ‘Tsumu in the first place’ he responds with a strained laugh.
‘Don’t be’, she responds, pressing a chaste kiss to Osamu’s cheek. ‘Your interference gave me Shino. I could never regret that’.
But Osamu can never fully step into Atsumu’s place - they may look heartbreakingly similar but he is not her husband, a fact she’s painfully reminded of when they drive back to Hyogo to the Miya family home for Obon without Atsumu. She does her duty with her head held high and Shino strapped to her back, placing the offerings by the family graves, releasing lanterns down the lake to guide the Miya ancestral spirits back to the mortal realm, but the matriarch of the family sniffed her disapproval when Atsumu’s mother shakily informs her that he isn’t visiting this year.
‘You’re his wife - what good are you for if you can’t even make your husband come back home’, the old lady snapped.
She bent herself into a low bow to murmur a litany of apologies, shaking her head minutely at Osamu before he even tries to put his foot in his mouth in a misguided attempt to defend her - dear boy that he is, but he does not deserve the burden of his brother’s sins, and she will not let him go to battle for her when she can hold her own - until the old lady stalks off, only vaguely appeased. The smile on her face for the rest of the night is unflinching but she still cries herself to sleep because she hates herself for being so goddamned stupid - it should have occurred to her that chasing Atsumu into the eye of the storm would leave her with nothing more than a ruined home and a broken heart.
But when the morning dawns and the sunrise reflects its colours in her daughter’s eyes, she’s reminded afresh that she's a knife maker’s daughter, and her spine is forged with steel. So she hammers the pieces of her heart back together and does not let herself break again.
The months pass and the pain recedes. It slowly becomes easier to breathe.
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!#haikyuu writing#hq writing#haikyuu imagines#hq imagines#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu romance#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq x y/n#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#msby atsumu#atsumu x reader#miya osamu#inarizaki#haikyuucreations
361 notes
·
View notes
Text
you’ve got more poison than sugar - part i
AO3 part ii
Fandom: Call Of Duty
Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell
Words: 4.009
Summary: Russell Adler should have known better that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees.
Warnings: just swearings, sexual tension, blood, mentions of past abuse and brainwashing. adler being that manipulative asswipe like usual.
Author’s note: i don't know what i'm doing. one moment, i was watching the walkthrough of the new call of duty game, found myself curious, acutely curious by that guy with the scars and shades on- a younger, shadier (no pun intended) Robert Redford in Spy Game and oh my... fast forward to 2 weeks later, here we are.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A house somewhere on foreign soil,
Where ageless lovers call,
Is this your goal, your final needs,
Where dogs and vultures eat,
Committed still I turn to go.
I put my trust in you.
A Means To An End - Joy Division (1980)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It's mystifying how little she talks. Or when she does, it's always in fragments. Like a crossword puzzle in your local newspaper, but several letters are missing. He initially thought maybe MK-Ultra fucked her head or worse, if it hasn't worked at all, but the more he watches her, the more he realizes it's just the way she is. And it's ironic because he named her Bell. He expected her to chime like a goddamn goldfinch yet here they are.
But he won't be fazed. Russell Adler is a man who's stopped at nothing in getting what he wanted before, he sure as hell won't stop now for a close-mouthed science project.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“We've got a job to do, Bell."
It intrigues him, every time, the way the words trigger something deep within her psyche, the way her eyes change, her body stands a little straighter, like a machine ready to function at his disposal. It reminds Adler of one of those cartoons he watched when he was a kid about wizards and magic words, except there are no musical dance numbers playing in the background or a talking cricket perching on his shoulder. This is his power over her, over the USSR, over Perseus. That monstrous filth. It really does take a beast to tame another.
Although he surmises calling Bell one would be superfluous.
She barely looks like one, but Adler knows too well than to underestimate her. Just because Bell hasn’t shown her set of claws, that doesn’t mean she’s harmless, delicate, like a miniature China Doll in his breast pocket.
Bell never offered him her reply before, but now, now, she nods, head almost bows, obedient pretty thing, and says:
“Yes, Adler.”
So it goes.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It takes West Berlin for Adler to realize she’s left-handed.
She wears her watch on her right hand, smokes with that same said hand only when she’s writing or moving her pieces for an impromptu late-night game of chess against Lazar. And she always wears her gloves all the time- leather, black, lined with silk and pretty, small buttons on the cuffs, covering those striking red nails underneath. Whether it is for the theatrics or an old habit of hers, he can't really tell.
He doesn’t know why he begins to take notice of these mundane details about Bell, but rationalizes because he’s never been in the same room with this version of her, post-brainwash Bell, for more than 10 minutes. And for all intents and purposes, there’s still a lot of question marks surrounding her character; who is she? Where did she come from? What is her connection to Perseus?
Are they in a possession of a walking, breathing bomb about to destroy them all or the West’s only salvation?
He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Adler hears Bell from his table, typing busy on the computer- barely blinking- all soaked up in that caffeine-infused energy at 1 am. She's always like that, he learns, when it comes to working, always with that steel determination, pulling out all the stops as long as it gets the job done- that Soviet discipline at it's finest.
Reminds him a little of himself when he's young.
Adler walks up to her.
“You done for the night?” A shake of her head is her only response. He sighs. “You should go home, Bell.”
“You go. I’ll lock up behind you,” Bell replies, low and monotone; that youthful stubborn.
If she was any other person, he would probably commend her for such fierce willpower, but she is Bell, the walking conundrum, his ace in the hole. Call him paranoid, but the idea of her having the safehouse for herself does nothing but raises every alarm in his head.
“No, we’re going home,” he says instead, tone brooking no argument and she frowns at the screen, her fingers stop moving then looks up at him with those goddamn empty eyes. "Come on, it's late anyway."
She doesn't say anything. Adler wishes he could read her mind- or crack that lovely skull on the back of her head, dissect her brain, learn its secrets and answers.
Adler has his gun with him. It wouldn’t take long. A quick, true shot to the heart to keep the brain intact. He’d have Hudson contact one of his people inside BND and he'd deliver the brain himself if he has to. They could do it. He heard they’ve been studying inmates' brains for decades now, anyway.
Before he has a chance to entertain the idea further, though, Bell nods once and rises up from her seat.
Bell walks past him. Her scent, like honeysuckle on ice, hits him like an uppercut in the face. Adler inhales, as if against his will.
He thinks he could get drunk on it.
“Hop in. I’ll drive you back to the hotel,” he says once they’re outside, regretting the decision the moment the words left his lips, but he knows he can’t just leave her on her own at this late hour.
The irony isn’t lost on him, though, considering he just thought about unspooling her brain a few minutes ago.
Bell complies without a protest. Getting inside the passenger seat, wordless still, fingers toying with the radio. An angry, krautrock music comes blaring all over his car. Adler winces, but at least the riot is loud enough to muffle the one's brewing in his head.
"How's your memory these days?"
Bell shrugs. "Nihil novi sub sole." There's nothing new under the sun.
Good, he muses. The least she knows about herself the better.
Though that doesn't mean he's out of the woods yet.
"Listen, from now on, I want you to keep me informed if there's any new progress about your memory or if you've developed any new symptoms. I want to know everything." He steals a sidelong glance at her, making sure she is listening (she always does, but Adler needs an excuse)
(An excuse for what?)
"Alright, Bell?"
"Of course," replies the woman in question.
"Good." Adler shifts his attention back to the road. "Good." Taking a long drag, he considers trying to appeal to her sentimental side. It's not something you'd improvise last minute- at least not with someone you brainwashed to believe you are her mentor/confidant for the past decade, but he's itching to know where he stands with her.
"You know, I'm just tryin' to look out for you, kid."
Her lips twitch but the rest of her visage remains impassive and faraway, more like a flick knife than a woman. The correlation is uncanny.
That's when she inches closer. The space between them bridged. He freezes. Hyper-aware of just how dangerous this is, but can’t bring himself to pull back, to look the other way. Not when her hand reaches out to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, eyes still glued to his, and curls her lips around the filter. One heavy pull, and then she rolls down the window and tosses it out on the side of the road.
"Thought I'd reciprocate the sentiment."
And with that, she leans back in her seat before Adler could even process what has just transpired.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid,” Adler greeted her, about a month ago.
Park had insisted that he had to be there for her when she woke up (naturally, Adler had balked at the idea, but at the English woman’s fact-of-the-matter explanation, also because it had somewhat dawned on him last minute the logic behind her machinations- “both of you are supposed to have known each other for years now. If she doesn't see you by her side, she’s going to wonder why”- thus, here he was)
“How are you feeling?”
Bell blinked owlishly and stared at the older man with those bottomless, cat-like eyes that had haunted him since January.
Her gaze eventually softened as recognition flickered across her face.
“Like someone just hit me in the chest with a bulldozer,” she said hoarsely. “Where are we?”
“St. Dismas’ hospital, Pittsburgh.” Adler got up and fetched her a glass of water from the table. “Although not a bulldozer, but bullets did. That, and you hit your head really hard on your way down. Thought we’d lost you there, Bell.”
Bell drank in silence. She’s still watching him, thinking. This was the first time he realized that he couldn’t exactly read her expression and somehow that threw him off.
“What happened?” she asked, one hand mid-air, like she was deciding which to touch first, hesitating and abandoned the idea.
“You don’t remember?” She shook her head. Adler pretended to look remotely distressed about it. “The doctors warned me about this. It must have been because of the fall- heck, I could even still hear that sickening crunch from here.” He dragged his chair closer towards her bed.
“We were in Amsterdam. Remember Fohler?” she shook her head again. “Well, we’d been tracking this son of a bitch for months, but we were chasing him in Amsterdam. He was running away and climbed up some scaffolding. You were about to go up after him,” he recited the fabricated story he, Park and Hudson had crafted. “He shot you and you fell and hit your head against the pavement.”
Bell looked away first, silent. Her hand gingerly touched the back of her head and winced, albeit only slightly.
Adler was almost impressed, if not, disarmed by how calm and composed her reaction was to all of this. But then again, after having had witnessed first-hand how the woman barely flinched under any kind of interrogation technique they threw at her- a personality built for wrestling tigers- he really shouldn’t be surprised.
“Bell, what is the last thing you remember?”
Bell frowned. “Not much. I remember ‘Nam, but-”
“Vietnam? Kid, that was thirteen years ago.” Adler watched the way her throat bopped, like she was swallowing her own blood and the color drained from her face, just like the first time he’d seen her, and proceeded to drop the bomb:
“Bell, the year is 1981.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Bell dear, would you mind taking a look at this?"
Park's voice sails from across the room. She says it like it's a compound word: Bell-dear. Like the two words belong together. Bell-dear. 2 syllables, 1 word, 9 characters and that just might be the weirdest thing he hears this year and he heard many things.
"Bell dear?" Adler asks much later, his gravel-and-smoke voice reduced to a whisper, when she delivers a document to his table.
Park shrugs as if that explains everything. "What? I like her."
He's tempted to say you really can't put a term of endearment and someone you brainwashed into submission in the same sentence, but what else is new?
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
They wind up in a bar. It’s called Die Stube and the place’s brimmed with artists and all sorts of leather-clad, Bowie-esque dramatic, chromatic blue eyelids young people chattering over a dirty cloud of smoke.
The two of them colonize a lone booth in the back. It’s dark and the quietest. She orders a beer and he, a scotch and they drink in silence. There are moments where her head would twist to the side, as subtle as a needle and survey the phantasmagorical scene before them, like studying something from a petri dish.
While he’s watching her.
Only to tear his gaze away to the nearest object he can find.
It lands on his watch.
"It’s almost ten. Hudson's contact should be here soon," he announces, if anything to distract himself. She nods mutely in reply, as always, and runs a finger around the rim of her glass.
"The place ain't much of your scene?"
She shrugs, like it's self-evident. "I didn't know this was a scene, though."
"Well, that’s West Berlin for you. A worry-free playground for the hedonists, hipsters and proto-electro NDW enthusiasts with drugs on tap," Adler says, sipping his drink in practiced nonchalance. "Always makes my head spin."
"I guess I remember it differently," Bell replies, tinged with something akin to begrudging.
That warrants his full attention. "What do you remember?”
Bell shrugs again and lights a cigarette instead, menthol, one of those long, skinny cigarettes they only market for women; biding her time, making him wait. She lets the smoke flares from her nostrils so her eyes are veiled.
"It’s hard to explain, but I suppose it’s grittier?” she gesticulates, searching for the right word like she’s skim reading the entire Oxford dictionary in her head. “Bizarrely, infinitely grittier and dimmer? Like being in an underground tunnel and there's not much to see."
Interesting. Maybe she’s recalling one of her ops for Perseus or her mind is confusing her with the world on the other side of the wall.
“Maybe you’re remembering one of our clandestine ops here. It was a few years after Vietnam,” Adler supplies, passing over the tale like bait.
She falls for it, hook, line and sinker.
“Ah, I guess that also explains my fluency in German.”
“I taught you that.” It’s only logical, he decides, that she learned from him. She’s supposed to be his protégé after all.
An elegant brow quirk. "You did?"
"Yeah, though you were already fluent in Latin, Russian, Vietnamese and Portuguese when we first met anyway. You have quite a natural ear, kid.”
She gives him a look. He really can’t categorize it, but it makes it a whole lot harder to fight against her stare.
“What else did you teach me?”
If they were anyone else, the lines could have a potential to entice, to seduce, that winsome, catty-eyelashes coquette, but they aren't anyone else and Bell does not voice it like that. Yet the implication behind the question stirs something in the pit of Adler’s stomach anyway, that tight knot of confusion as it is buried with something else and he finds himself, once again, uncharacteristically speechless.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
That particular question of her stays, even hours later, unbidden. Interspersed with her scent and face.
His emotions are a minefield whenever she’s near now. It evokes that newfound rush of terror within him, like walking on a tightrope or being thrown into the pit to face hundreds of hungry lions, bare hands. It makes Adler questions his every decision, and he can’t have that in his line of work.
Adler lights his sixth cigarette, contemplating everything, nothing. Anything to distract him from her. It's 4 am and he’s exhausted, but his mind won’t stop whirring. This isn’t like him at all- like he's lost somewhere in a Dali-style labyrinth that is his head and he wonders if this is a byproduct of his fear or fascination or confusion for the young woman.
He fears it is all of them.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
(They're only 10 minutes away from East Berlin when he senses it, something akin to burning on his peripheral vision, pulling him like weight.
Bell is staring at him from across the seat.
He cocks his head slightly to the side.
Adler catches the quick, telling quirk of her lips, like she's about to smile but lights a cigarette instead.)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Did you hear that?”
Krauss has just crossed the wall and their soles are slippery from the rain. She's panting. Her breath is white like a fog. Adler muses it must be from the running, until his iris trails down to where her hand is clutching his jacket sleeve, the leather creasing like a modulation signal.
“What is it?” Adler asks, hushed. There are no Stasis here, but even one can't be too careful.
“The TV.” She’s gaping at the broken TV next to them. Adler looks at the said object, frowning, then back to her. “Y-you didn’t hear it?”
"Heard what? Bell, the thing's dead."
Bell withdraws from him. Stepping back until her back meets the walls, her eyes seeing and unseeing, like a lens finding focus in the dark, then she closes them, as if trying to regulate her breathing. Adler has never seen her scared shitless of anything before. The sight confuses as it intrigues him.
"Bell, what's going on?" Adler steps closer, but he dares not to touch her.
She shakes her head, dismissive. In just a span of seconds, Bell dons that mask she likes to wear again; deadpan and frustratingly distant. A spike of annoyance drives through him. Just when he thinks he can get through her, there she goes again, retreating behind her palisades.
"Nothing." Bell turns away abruptly and she’s walking again."Let's just go. The others are waiting for us."
He doesn't pry about whatever she heard on the TV- Adler knows better than to beat a dead horse, thank you very much- not even after they save her from Volkov's clutches, after she bashes his head against the steel door and reeks his blood all the way home, it seems superficial at the time.
Until two days later.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The day starts, as it mostly does for the team, with a briefing.
Fifteen minutes in and something like a gasp pulls his attention to her.
That’s when he notices it; her hands are shaking, coffee spilling out of the mug over her hand. A shatter follows. Her mug smashes to smithereens at her feet. She’s swaying, near collapse, like a house of cards about to fall, a hand on her nose.
Adler catches her before she tumbles to the floor.
“Bell!” His arm around her waist tightens, trying to keep her steady. Lazar rushes to their side in a flash and helps him move her to a nearby chair.
"Jesus Christ," he curses, more to himself than to her as he watches blood, a bead of angry red, trickling down her nose. "Sims, get me a washcloth from the bathroom."
He kneels before her once Sims returns with a damp cloth. Nicotine-stained gloved fingers tentatively grasp her chin, holding her still.
“Kid, you alright?” Adler asks, worry bleeds into his voice without him realizing it. He firmly presses the cloth under her nose, his other thumb touches the pulse at her throat- it's almost sickly affectionate. “Bell, talk to me."
Bell looks at him, discombobulated, like he's a figment of her imagination, then blinks. Again and again until she heaves a deep breath.
"I-" she hisses. One hand flies up to her head. "Fuck. My head.”
Adler’s eyes immediately search for Park’s. A knowing look passes over her face and he knows without saying that she's thinking the same thing, like they're attached to the same brain-wire:
MK-Ultra.
There’s a fraction of pause, then Lazar asks, "Should we give her something?”
Before Park can voice her answer, Bell beats her to it. "I already took an anticonvulsant this morning. It should have helped.”
“Wait, this has happened before?” Adler asks.
Bell looks away, a hesitating look shadowing her face. He fears the worst.
“Bell…” he tries again, a slight warning to his tone.
She sighs loudly, as if mentally preparing herself before walking into a storm.
“Yes. Two days ago."
His mind instantly refers to East Berlin, the TV. Trying to connect the dots in his head. It seems far fetched, but now he wonders if she saw something that triggers this. Although he's never read about this on other subjects before, the correlation is just impossible to ignore.
Fuck. He heaves a breath, willing himself to calm down, to think. They can't afford complications at times like these. Not when there's so much at stake right now.
Adler snaps his attention back to Bell when she tries to scramble awkwardly to her feet, swatting his hand away. The hand on her neck immediately reaches for her waist again and pushes her back down onto the chair. His grip's tight enough to leave marks on her skin, but he doesn't care.
"Bell, for fuck's sake, stay still or so help me," he says, exasperated, not letting go of her waist.
"I feel better now." Stubborn little shit.
He is tempted to scream at her face and grab both of her shoulders and shake. “The hell you’re not. Stop fighting it. You’ll only make things worse.”
Her face sours, if only for a millisecond before it morphs into guilt. “I’m sorry.”
Adler watches her for a long moment. It’s only now that he realizes that he’s still holding her waist and the cloth on her face.
He backs away from her like he’s been burnt.
“You should have told me. I thought I made it clear the other night to keep me informed regarding this,” he scolds.
“I’m sorry,” she utters again and she looks so pliable like this, a blank canvas perfumed with obedience and lethal mind. It makes him almost feel sorry for what he has in plan for her once the shit show is over.
“Look, just go back to the hotel and take a day off.” Her mouth cracks open. He raises a silencing hand. “That’s an order, Bell.” But she merely scowls, looking more like jagged ice than a person. Hudson may have just met his match, after all.
“I told you I’m fine.”
“That’s not how it looks to me.”
“It is. It’s my body and I know what I’m feeling, and I’m telling you, I. Feel. Fine.”
His jaw clenches. “Are you disobeying a direct order, agent?”
Bell doesn’t answer, but her whole face remains challenging and hard. Undeterred.
Adler holds his breath. He feels the whole room collectively does the same. It’s like staring down the barrel of a gun and there’s an awful sort of danger to be found in that.
Just when he thinks an imaginary bullet would dig itself into his skin, however, Bell utters, “Of course not.”
And so the woman resumes to her normal, docile self at a drop of a hat. Even when Park steps in and whisks her out of her seat, drives her back to her hotel with Lazar on shotgun.
It doesn’t assuage his worry, though. He’s still restless throughout the day, like a roaring ocean inside a bell jar. She’s never done this before, openly rebels against him. Now, the situation is just bad. Not casually bad or almost-got-shot bad, this is the-entire-Europe-could-turn-into-a-nuclear-wasteland bad, an-armageddon-waiting-to-happen bad.
What if this is the beginning of her old self trying to scratch her way out of the surface? Adler’s blood goes cold at the thought. He is going to have to keep a close eye on this development.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
West Berlin - 1 am, local time.
“How is she?”
“Stable. I’ve administered another dose of Propranolol before I left the hotel. She should be fit as a fiddle in the morning.”
“Tell me, what do you think happened to her?”
“My theory? Traumatic brain injury. A cumulative product of torture, trauma-based mind control and chronic stress. I've read reports about cases like these before in MI6. None of them is still alive to recount the tale, unfortunately."
Adler grips the phone.
“How long do you think we have?”
“Theoretically, 2-3 weeks tops.”
“But?”
He hears Park sighs on the other line. “But then again, none of the subjects I’ve encountered before were like her. So, I suppose it’s still a little too premature to determine at this point."
Adler kneads his temple, feeling the start of that familiar Bell-induced headache forms in his head. Can things just be fucking simple for once?
“We don’t have that much time anyway, Park. And if Hudson gets a wind of this, he’ll want her gone by morning. I can’t let that happen. Not…” he pauses. “Not when we are this close.”
"What are we going to do about her, then?"
Adler sighs.
"Raise the dosages of her drugs,” he says. “And keep an extra eye on her. I think we may be heading into uncharted waters now.”
Tagging: @mvalentine cause you said to tag you with everything i write so 👁👄👁
#russell adler#russell adler x bell#cod bell#cod#call of duty#call of duty black ops#call of duty cold war#cod cold war#alex mason#frank woods#helen park#lawrence sims#jason hudson#lazar azoulay
163 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
miriogumi
cotonako truther ♡
matrixkent
the door is open. the world is waiting.
mini-minish
oooooooo its the fuckin wizard
graciousladybits-archive
D.Va online
nechakokid
Untitled