#sometimes a friendship can be two buds who sometimes point guns at one another | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captain-josslett · 3 years

Text

Enigma - Part Four

Masterlist

Summary: Emma Swan’s world gets turned upside down when her memories are altered, erasing her knowledge of a magical town and those she loves.

Things start to look up when Emma meets a striking redhead and a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Fluff, Period, Blood, slight angst? Maybe?

Pairings: Emma Swan x Regina Mills, Emma Swan x ??

This Part: Emma and Henry start to settle into their routine and Henry meets Nat.

Who is this Natalie Rushman? 🧐

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: (Let me know if you want to come off this one) @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom, @crispykidcookiebasketball

The rest of the week goes extremely well for both Henry and Emma. Henry makes fast friends with those similar to his age, especially with two teenage boys he met on the first day of camp, called Peter Parker and Ned Leeds.

Emma had been surprised when she came home to find the trio on the sofa playing video games but she was pleased Henry was making some decent friends. She enjoyed hearing their banter as she made dinner and meeting Peter’s Aunt May and Uncle Ben when they came to pick Peter and Ned up from the apartment. May had even given her phone number to the blonde with the suggestion of meeting up for coffee. Emma gladly took it with the plan of taking the brunette up on her offer.

For her friendship with Natalie it grew stronger through the week, especially during training where Nat pushes Emma to her limits, helping her know what she can do and how to improve on any areas she was struggling with.

Natalie had been impressed with her shooting skills and didn’t need to give her many tips. Only that practice makes perfect, which comes to pass because soon Emma is hitting most, if not all, the targets during gun training.

Next were the assault courses and Emma couldn't help but feel a little bit pleased with herself when she had been able to keep up with Natalie as they ran through the course. Only stumbling a few times when she would get distracted by watching her redheaded friend.

They continued to spar throughout the week and finally Emma was able to win a few rounds against her partner. One time she had knocked Nat to the floor but when Emma held out her hand to help her friend up, Natalie kicked her leg out, causing Emma to fall onto her back and letting out a high pitched squeal.

Both burst out laughing as they lay on the floor and eventually had to abandon training because they couldn't focus due to crying with laughter.

Today was finally Friday and Emma is feeling very nervous about having her new friend round to meet Henry. Especially after the possible kiss that was interrupted and never brought up again.

But as Emma feverishly cleans the apartment she decides to leave things with Nat as they are. To figuratively brush the almost kiss under the rug.

After all this is the first real friendship the blonde has had for a long time or for as long as she can remember. Yes she has had friends but not with the easy connection she has with Nat and she doesn’t want to ruin it.

Finally Emma is putting the cleaning supplies back under the sink and she rushes to the cupboard by the door to get the vacuum. Henry is playing video games with his legs up on the coffee table, but will occasionally watch his Mom as she zips around the apartment. When the vacuum blares to life he pauses the game, annoyed he can’t hear anything.

“MA!” Henry yells, causing Emma to pause and look at him, turning the machine off.

“What Henry?”

“I can’t hear the TV!” He groans pointing at his game. But he gulps when Emma gives him an unimpressed glare.

“You know it would have been nice if you offered to help. But I left you to it.” Emma crosses her arms. “I am trying to make our home nice for our guest. Now can you please get changed while I finish up in here? And make sure you close your door so she doesn’t catch sight of your room. Which you will clean and tidy tomorrow.”

“Aw Maaa!!” Henry whines and slams his hands either side of him on the sofa.

“Hen-rryyy.” Copies her son before turning around, hiding the smirk on her face. Her kid was truly entertaining sometimes, though admittedly somewhat annoying. But what young teenager wasn’t?

Emma continues vacuuming the apartment, making sure it shines and smells fresh. When she has completed her task Emma happily gazes around to triple check it’s to her standard.

Satisfied with the result she hops into the shower. Afterwards she quickly dries herself and gets to work on her hair. Blow drying it but allowing the natural waves in her hair to show and putting some basic makeup on. She stands for a while in her underwear, debating what to wear. ‘Smart? No this isn’t a meeting! But I don’t want to be too casual…’ Emma goes back and forth through her clothes. Her eyes land on her skinny jeans a few times but something pulls her away from them.

Finally she settles on a dark green skater dress, finishing it off with a few accessories. Her swan necklace and some pearl studded earrings. The intercom buzzes by the door making Emma jump. She quickly gives herself the once over, spraying vanilla perfume in the air and walking through it.

She rushes to the intercom as it buzzes again.

“Please desist that awful sound! It is terribly annoying.”

A silky laugh resonates from the machine. “Well if you had answered the first time I wouldn't have had to keep pressing it!”

“True.” Emma grins into the intercom.

“So… you gonna let me in?”

“Maybe.” Emma quickly presses the button and allows Natalie into the building.

Emma gives the apartment another once over and nods at Henry who is getting up from the sofa. Showing he had changed into a shirt. Emma is at least pleased he’s put a bit of effort into what he’s wearing.

A loud knock echoes through the apartment and Emma flies to the door. Opening it to reveal a beaming Natalie wearing black skinny jeans, black boots and red wine sheer blouse. Her hair is tied back into a high ponytail and her makeup is subtle but makes her features pop.

“Hi.” Emma breathes out before hugging the redhead. For a moment her mind screams at her for diving in straight away as she realises this is the first time they’ve hugged. Though she is relieved to feel Natalie’s arm reach up and hug her in return.

Emma pulls away before waving the redhead into the apartment. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know what you drank so I brought everything!” Nat laughs while bending down to pick up a case of beer and a bag full of jangling bottles.

“Aww you didn’t have too!” Emma smiles as she takes the goods off her friend and heads to the kitchen.

“Well I am the first guest around your apartment. Would be rude not to.” Natasha says while following behind the blonde. She smiles when she sees a teenage boy standing awkwardly by the sofa. “And you must be Henry.”

“Hi.” Henry says timidly.

Emma smirks at how shy Henry has gone. Certain that if she was standing next to him he’d hide behind her.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Thay you are going to be the next Tony Stark of inventing?”

Henry beams at Natalie’s question. “That's the plan.” He moves to the other side of the island where the two women are standing by.

“He’s only a week in and already his coaches are impressed with him.” Emma says with pride while putting the drinks in the fridge. “What do you want Nat?”

“I’m happy with a beer.” The redhead responds, Emma passes her one and opens one for herself. Natalie takes a sip and focuses back on the teenager. “That is amazing Henry. It isn’t an easy camp to be in, they certainly don’t mess around.”

“Yea? How do you know?” Henry tilts his head curiously at her.

“I know a few people that work there.” She smiles at him as his eyes go wide.

“Do you know Mr Stark?” Henry can’t help but bounce on his feet, showing his excitement.

“I do actually.”

Both Mother and Son gape at her and Emma blinks at how she didn’t know this information. Nat sees this and her smile widens.

“But only from a few parties he has hosted.”

“That's so cool!! Did he get his Iron Man suit out?!” Henry continues to bounce on his feet and Emma grins at his enthusiasm.

“Not the full suit but he let me try his gauntlet on and shoot an ice sculpture.”

Emma laughs into her drink at how Henry’s eyes widen even more that they could almost fall out of his head.

“That-is- AWESOME!!” Henry whoops but Emma interrupts him from the barrage of questions she knew he was going to ask the redhead.

“So.” Emma claps her hands drawing the pair's attention. “What pizza shall we order?”

“Pizza!” Henry quickly zips over to the cupboard where they keep all their take-out menus.

“What do you guys normally get?” Natalie asks casually while sipping her beer.

“Well, we have a great pizza place down the road and we’ve actually been going through the menu. There are still a few we haven’t tried.” Emma licks her lips. “What do you say Rushman? Feeling brave?”

“Always.” Natalie says coolly, raising a sculpted eyebrow at her.

Henry bounds towards them and they look through the menu. Nat laughs at the ratings and notes the mother and son have put against the ones they have tried.

“How bout we try the BBQ supreme, the oceano special and the carbonara pizza?” Emma points at the different choices.

“Fish on pizza? Yuck!” Henry pulls a face of disgust, Emma rolls her eyes but Nat smiles widely at him and winks. Henry’s cheeks redden slightly and he quickly stares down at the menu.

“Okay-” Emma taps the island as she looks over the options again. Trying to figure out what her taste buds are telling her. “How about…”

“The Hawaiian?” Natalie asks seriously, noticing how no writings were near the selection, before bursting out laughing as Henry’s head snaps up, the disgust on his face deepening. “I’m kidding Henry.”

“Good!” Henry says with relief flooding his face.

The trio look back down at the menu. “How bout Granny’s pizza? That sounds nice.” Nat offers up as she points at the description of the pizza.

“Yea, sounds good.” Emma smiles at her and Henry nods. Emma picks up the phone and dials the number she’s learnt off by heart. Not surprised when her voice is recognised by the person answering.

She banters with the owner while she watches Henry guide Nat over to the sofa to show her Diablo III and make the redhead a character.

Emma grins at how the conversation between the pair flows easily. Especially when Henry asks her which superhero character she likes, ultimately getting into a debate about Supergirl and Superman.

When she hangs up the phone she quietly sighs in relief as she looks at the back of their heads, relieved that they are getting along, before walking over to join them.

-- -- --

The evening was a success and after Henry went to bed Emma and Nat stayed up talking well into the early hours of the morning. When they realised the time, Emma was adamant that Nat stays over and sets the sofa up for her.

In the morning Nat seamlessly fits in with the relaxed Saturday morning ritual of the Swans. Helping Henry with the pancake mixture while Emma cooked, though some flour did get tossed around between her and Henry. Both gave the blonde puppy dog eyes when she turned on them. Ultimately cleaning up after themselves but Nat gave Henry a mischievous look before placing her flour covered hand on Emma’s face. Causing Emma to shriek and chase after the redhead, promptly promoting Henry to chef.

After they ate they played a few board games and Henry couldn’t help but smile and laugh at how competitive the two women got against each other.

Eventually it was time for Nat to leave and both of the Swans were sad to see her go as they waved goodbye from their doorway.

When Sunday comes, the mother and son go for an adventure around New York and try a few places to eat that they have heard about. When they venture back into the apartment they feel truly stuffed and satisfied and ready for a Sunday nap.

The weeks pass and they fall into a comfortable routine of work and camp, followed by Friday nights with Nat, who mostly always stays over and sleeps on the sofa. Emma had offered for Nat to sleep in her huge bed with her, but Nat would always politely refuse. Stating she would probably kick Emma hard in the night.

Saturdays are filled with either Henry hanging out with his Mom and Nat or he would go out with Peter and Ned to the arcade or some other adventure. Secretly happy about this as it gives his Mom some time with Nat, who Henry suspects is increasingly becoming someone special to his Ma.

This becomes apparent when one early Monday morning Emma groans as she starts to wake up. She had been experiencing a good dream involving the brunette beauty she keeps seeing, but pain radiates from her stomach. Pulling Emma into consciousness with the feeling she’s being stabbed constantly. Sighing heavily, she slowly lifts herself up, whimpering at the pain and stumbles to the bathroom.

She goes to use the toilet and crack open an eye, her suspicions are confirmed.

Her period has started.

Normally she was on the pill but with the move she completely forgot about it. Sorting herself out with lidded eyes she manages to get back to her bed and collapses into it. She groans and curls up into a tight ball, gritting her teeth as another powerful cramp makes her whole body tense.

Somehow Emma falls back to sleep or falls unconscious, she isn’t sure, when a few hours later she is awoken by Henry knocking on her door but she doesn’t have the energy to answer him.

“Ma? Are you up?” Henry’s muffled voice calls through the door. Emma groans in response and starts to uncurl. Suddenly her eyes shoot open as she feels her stomach roll dangerously. She gags and stumbles to the en-suite, just making it before she vomits. “Ma?!” Henry’s panicked voice yells as he opens her bedroom door.

Emma wants to tell him she is okay, but her energy has been zapped. Instead she moans, her breathing becomes ragged and tears fall down her face as she continues to throw up. The cramps are becoming worse and worse. Her whole body aches and feels like she's been run over multiple times.

“I’m going to get help!” Henry is gone before she can say anything. Once her stomach has settled again she flushes and tries to get to her feet. But her body isn’t cooperating with her demands.

“Henry?” Her voice is weak and rough. She tries to move again but is horrified when another severe cramp causes nausea to bubble up and she’s throwing up again.

Gentle hands pull her damp hair back, making Emma jump.

“Sorry.” A soft velvet voice apologises. Nat grabs a hair tie from on top of the sink and ties the blonde’s hair into a loose bun on top of Emma’s head. She gently rubs Emma’s back, looking at her friend sympathetically.

“Grss-you-shnd’nt, be here.” Emma’s mumbles come out in strained gasps.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?” Nat says and looks up at Henry who stands nervously in the doorway of Emma’s en-suite. His worry etched on his face.

“Henry, can you get your Mom a bottle of water please?” She smiles comfortingly at the teenager and Henry nods, taking off towards the fridge. Her smile widens slightly when Emma flops back into her. The blonde’s head rests on Nat’s shoulder, but Nat's smile fades when she notes how pale Emma is. “Wow Em, what’s wrong?”

“Period.” Emma mutters and she swallows, trying to relieve the acidic pain in her throat.

“Poor Em.” Nat leans over slightly to flush the toilet. Causing Emma to whine with the movement. Henry re-enters the bathroom with the bottle of water. “Thank you Henry.” She says as she takes it from him.

“Is she going to be okay?” Henry's voice is small as he looks down at his Mom.

“Yea she’s going to be just fine.” Nat says, trying to reassure him. “Shouldn’t you get going?”

Henry nods looking at the time on his watch. “Will you stay with her?”

“Yes, I’ve already told Johnson we aren’t coming in today.”

“Okay, bye Ma, hope you feel better soon.”

“Bye Hen.” Emma groans out. The pair hear Henry move into the corridor and out the apartment door.

Nat opens the bottle. “Drink this Em.”

Emma sluggishly lifts her hand to take the bottle.

Nat frowns at the lack of energy Emma is displaying. “Are your periods always this bad?”

Emma nods her head. “When I forget to take my meds. Aren’t yours?”

Nat stays quiet for a moment and Emma turns her head to squint up at the redhead.

“Try and drink a few sips for me.” Nat says, obviously ending the subject and helps Emma manage to drink a bit more.

The redhead somehow even manages to grab some medication from a drawer nearby and not jolt the blonde. After swallowing them, Emma starts to settle back into the redhead. Resting her head on her shoulder again. But Nat knows she won’t be comfortable soon.

“Can you get up?” Nat looks down at the blonde but Emma doesn’t respond. “Em?”

A green eye slowly opens before another one.

“Hi there.” Nat smirks down at her friend as Emma’s eyes connect with hers. “Can you get up?”

Emma nods, slowly sitting up and reaching out for the sink. She’s almost up until her legs buckle, making her slip and almost hit her head on the porcelain. But two strong arms catch her.

“Wow, careful there Em!” Nat pulls the blonde towards herself and lifts her up carefully. If Emma was fully with it she’d be freaking out at how Nat easily lifts her. “Do you want to go back to bed or on the sofa?”

“Sofa, watch movie.” Emma sighs out, enjoying the feeling of being in the redhead’s arms.

“Good idea.” Nat says and carefully walks through the apartment, not wanting to jostle the blonde and lays Emma on the sofa, pulling a teal blanket over her. “What do you want to eat?”

“No food.” Emma groans with the thought of eating and places her arm over her eyes.

“Em, you need to eat something.” Nat says firmly while crossing her arms.

“Toast.” Emma whispers out and Nat moves towards the kitchen. “And I need my glasses.”

Nat quickly backtracks to the sofa and looks down at her friend. “You wear glasses?”

Emma moves her arm away and nods tiredly. “Normally wear contacts. Glasses are beside my bed.” Emma curls up as pain shoots through her. She hears Nat go into her room to get them.

“Wow Em you're blind!” Nat exclaims, amazed at how thick the lenses are and how blurry everything looks when she gazes through them. She carefully cleans them as she makes her way back to the sofa. “Here you go Em.” Nat holds the glasses out to her.

“Thanks Nat.” Emma says weakly.

“So, toast, anything else?” Nat looks down as Emma places the thick rimmed glasses on, making her eyes magnified.

“Apple juice please.”

“Okay.” Nat smiles at Emma and walks to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the both of them. Already knowing where everything is she pops four slices of bread in the toaster. “I’m gonna have some scrambled eggs with the toast. Do you want any?”

“Yea please.” Emma’s weak voice calls out from the sofa.

After a few minutes Natalie places the food on the coffee table and looks over at the films on the bookcase. “What do you want to watch?”

“Erm… Before that.” Emma says nervously as she slowly sits up to face the redhead. Nat sees this and turns so she’s facing Emma as well, who fiddles with her hands and looks anxiously at Nat. Who tilts her head as she waits for Emma to continue. “Earlier you said, that’s what best friends are for and I…” Emma falters, feeling ridiculous and like a child for bringing it up.

“You what?” Natalie asks softly, but when it's clear Emma wasn’t going to continue her sentence, the redhead takes a deep breath. “Do you not want to be my best friend?”

“No! I mean I do! I just-” Emma runs a frustrated hand over her forehead, before flopping into the side of the sofa cushion. “I’ve never really had a best friend before. People have come close but I’ve never felt able to let them in or felt so at ease with someone before.” Emma panic when Nat just stares at her for a moment “And now I’ve ruined it and-”

“Em breathe.” Nat quickly cuts her off and takes Emma’s hand. Smiles fondly at her. “And I feel the same way. My work has become my life and it's nice to have someone I can share it and the other things with.”

“Other things?”

“Pizza, movies, walks in the park, kicking your ass in training-”

“Hey!” Emma protests weakly. “Not as much.” She grumbles and crosses her arms across her chest but winces at the pain.

“Okay, okay, not as much, not anymore at least.” Nat says while reaching out and unlocking Emma’s arms. “You need to stay relaxed.”

“Yes Mom.” Emma mutters and Nat chuckles, heading over to where the DVD’s are.

“So bestie! What is it you want to watch?”

“Tangled.” Emma says while playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

She smiles at the warm feelings radiating from her chest. Happy that her little confession hasn’t ruined anything with her friend, her best friend.

Emma is also relieved that she is starting to feel that the painkillers were taking effect in dulling the pain. Carefully she stretches her legs out and sighs heavily.

Nat reaches out for the DVD. “Tangled it is!” She quickly turns the Xbox on and puts the disc in. Walking back over to the sofa she lifts Emma’s legs so she can sit down. Gently places Emma’s legs on her lap and grabs the controller to start the film.

Soon the room is filled with Disney's intro music and the friends are whisked away on Repunzel’s adventure.

The waft of food reminds Emma she hasn’t eaten yet and she's pretty sure her stomach is beyond empty and will start to eat itself. Her stomach then growls, seemingly confirming Emma’s theory. Slowly Emma sits up removing her legs from Nat’s lap and sits cross legged.

“You can keep your feet there you know?” Natalie tells her softly, her attention momentarily moves off the screen and on the blonde beside her.

“Yea, but it would be harder to eat.” Emma gives the redhead a small smile.

“True.” Nat smiles back, especially when Emma drapes the blanket across both their laps and grabs their plates. Handing the redhead her portion.

The friends eat in silence as they watch Rapunzel and Flynn travel across the land to get to the Kingdom of Corona. They laugh at the jokes and Emma bounces along to the I have a dream song, causing Nat to grin at her.

Emma bellows with laughter when Flynn admits his name is Eugene. Nat doesn’t understand why it's that funny to Emma, but shrugs and chuckles with her anyway.

When Rapunzel and Eugene get to the Kingdom Nat notices Emma starting to get quieter. They continue to watch Rapunzel enjoy her birthday and get into a boat to watch the lanterns get released. When Rapunzel’s parents come on the screen, still devastated by the loss of their missing daughter, she hears Emma sniff. Nat looks at her blonde best friend from the corner of her eye and sees a few tears fall as Emma is transfixed by what is happening on the screen.

When the song begins and the King and Queen release the lantern, Emma’s tears fall quicker and she sniffs a few more times.

“You okay?” Nat asks softly. Emma nods her head and wipes her face under her glasses. Nat opens her arm out, beckoning Emma into her. Emma immediately shuffles over and falls into her best friend’s lap. She sighs in content as she rests her head on the crook of Nat’s arms.

The redhead gazes down at Emma and places her hand gently on Emma’s head. Softly moving her finger to stroke Emma’s head.

She looks back at the tv and sees the way Eugene watches Rapunzel. The adoration he feels for the blonde princess is clear.

Her hand and arm suddenly feels warm around Emma but she doesn’t want to pull away.

“I’d love for someone to look at me the way Eugene looks at her.” Emma says sadly with a sniff.

“One day, someone will.” Nat reaches down and squeezes Emma’s hand. Emma looks down at their joined hands and gives her a small smile through her tears.

“Yea, one day.” She wipes her wet face again. ‘Damn hormones!’

They continue watching the film and how things turn south when Mother Gothel makes Rapunzel believe Eugene doesn’t love her. Taking Rapunzel back to the tower, her prison.

Emma cheers when Eugene breaks free from the Kingdom’s prison after getting arrested by the guards and how Repunzel realises she is the lost princess.

But her mood soon grows solemn again when Eugene climbs Rapunzel's hair only to find her gagged and chained. She leans back further into Nat when Eugene is stabbed by Gothel and they watch the sequence unfold that leads to Eugene cutting Repunzel’s hair. Freeing her from Gothel who trips and falls out of the tower, becoming dust before she hits the ground.

Nat frowns at the tv as Eugene is dying in Rapunzel’s arms. She breathes a sigh of relief when Rapunzel’s tear gives Eugene another chance. As the scene switches to Rapunzel’s parents, Nat feels Emma tense up and feels her arm getting wet with tears as the parents rush to meet their lost daughter.

When Repunzel’s Mother slowly approaches Rapunzel, looking at her in awe and wonder and realising it is her daughter, Emma lets out a quiet sob. Her shoulders shake when the mother and daughter hug and Emma lets out another sob as the father joins the hug.

Emma buries her head into the crook of Nat’s arm and openly weeps.

“Hey, Em, what’s wrong?” Nat says concerned but Emma just shakes her head and continues crying. Nat carefully turns Emma over and lifts her slightly so she can hold her in a tight hug. Confused and worried at how Emma is reacting.

The blonde buries her head into the redhead’s shoulder, cursing her hormones. “It’s- stupid.” Emma’s muffled voice breaks as she continues to cry into the redhead’s shoulder.

“What is?” Nat rubs her hand over Emma’s back, trying to soothe her.

“My parents- do they- think of me? Do they light- a candle- on my birthday? Do they regret giving- me up?” Emma voices out her deepest thoughts to her best friend.

Nat sighs as she begins to understand what Emma is thinking. “Oh Em.” For the first time in a while Nat doesn’t know what to say. So she just continues to hold her best friend, looking down at the broken woman in her arms.

Soon Emma’s sobs fade and her breathing slows down. “Sorry.” Emma feels embarrassed and starts to move out of Nat’s arms.

“It’s fine Em.” She holds on, not allowing Emma to move. “I know you don’t really want to get up.”

Emma stops trying and nods. Settling back in the comforting embrace. Her eyes grow heavy and before she knows it she is asleep.

Nat smiles sadly down at Emma and places a gentle kiss on the blonde’s head before she reaches out to the remote beside her and settles back to watch some tv.

(Part Five)

#ouat #once upon a time #once upon a time x avengers #emma swan #henry mills #natalie rushman #who is she?#OUAT x Avengers #emma swan imagine

13 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Friendships are an odd thing. It starts off as an unexpected meeting between two strangers, where you later begin to learn more about this person who was just a stranger a few moments ago, to trusting that person wholeheartedly; to do whatever you can to make them happy. It’s a wonderful thing where you’re in love with said person, willing to hold their hand in public, kiss their cheek, go to them first when you have news of any kind. Where a mere memory of them is enough to make you smile, where after not seeing each other for a moment is enough to make you want to hug them, where you can feel safe in their arms. You meet a person by chance and they end up becoming one of the most important people in your life. Friendships are built on trust. Built on sharing snacks. Built on inside jokes. Built on love.

Your friendship with Tomura, however, isn’t any of that. It’s different than friendships you’ve had before. It was a meeting that you forced and that he complied with. Where you have doubts about the friendship- or whatever you can call this relationship when the word feels to sour on your tongue- and you don’t know what he’s thinking or what he looks like. Where you lay awake after late night talks and can feel a storm brew in your mind as you lay under the covers and think about him. It’s a relationship built on messages and the occasional phone calls. You don’t know if you can trust this person. You want to and sometimes when you hear his laughter, you think that you know him- you can trick yourself that you know who he is. You’re okay with sharing snacks with anybody- you like to share, you like to eat a cake and leave your friends the piece with the most frosting. There are jokes that you’ve two shared- ones where you snort and call him a dork and ones where he laughs- it’s shrill and a bit creepy if you were to be honest- and he calls you a dumbass and you can hear the faint sound of people yelling in the background that you never comment on.

When you were lonely, you reached out and he reluctantly let you grab onto him. You held tight and now you’re afraid to let go. You’re afraid that he’ll let go and a part of you that won’t remain silent no matter how many times you smother it, never wants him to let go of you. You’ve become oddly attached to the faceless man.

Tomura is crass, curses as if it were his first language, secretive as if he were protecting himself, curious as a cat, prying into you with delicacy and cunningness, never realize what he’s doing until you’re halfway through a story. He’s rough around the edges, making sure to bare his canines when you begin to pry. But no matter how many times he barks, no matter the little insults that leave his mouth, insults that longer hold the same sting as they used to be before, you inch closer to him. You always feel a second away from offering another video chat- this time where you can see who he is. You want to see who he is behind the screen.

However, at the same time, you’re scared who you’ll see. You’re scared that perhaps he’s a ghost from your past, someone who you wanted to leave behind that you’ve forgotten their voice and they’ve found a new name to use as a mask. You worry with dread creeping at your ankles on the good nights that the person who you can joke with is someone with cruel intentions. Other nights, you drown in panic and wish to grasp at him like a lifeline, only for the worry to drag you deeper, his face always muddled and hand always out of reach.

You wonder what he thinks of you. What his true thoughts are behind the jabbing insults and hissed out curses but you’re always too afraid to ask, too afraid what the truth will reveal.

Within the next week, there’s idle chatter in between the early mornings and late nights. Chatter where it fills the room with such ease. Chatter that dies and fills the room with silence, noises from the house are the only indicators that you both are still on the call. Chatter where it gets cut off due to your own responsibilities or his. A promise from you that you’ll try to message him later if time allows it and a click of his tongue as he tells you he’ll talk later.

The relationship gets easier day by day. Sometimes the word friend rolls of your tongue without you even realizing it- it feels natural to call him that. Other days, you’re hesitant to even say the word- to even think of what it truly means. It catches and sticks in your throat, suffocates you and leaves you feeling odd all over. Days where his name is light and sweet on your tongue, days where it’s bitter and uneasy. It’s easier to say a nickname those times; it doesn’t hold as much power as his actual name.

Talking to him gets easier- even if his name makes you unable to breathe. There are more phone calls, even if they’re short. You get to hear him talk about his day, talk about what he’s currently doing and most of the time he’s playing a game and he’ll entertain you with the plot, with the lore and the graphics. You do your own research on the side, your gasps telltale signs that you looked up what happens in the end and him snapping at you immediately not to spoil anything. You never do, always giving a vague hint to look behind a box if he wants an achievement or extra ammo. But you never give him tips. You offered once and he denied, saying that he wanted a true victory and not a false one where he had to rely on an external source. The ways he says it, with a heavy voice that takes a darker tone, makes it feel as if you’re missing out on something. You lay off, telling him that you’ll be there if he ever needs help, hoping that your own tone will hold the same hidden meaning that his held.

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that not only do you play video games like twenty four-seven—”

“Not twenty four-seven,” he growls but the sound of guns in the background does nothing to help prove his point.

“—and you watch anime and you basically like never leave your home? You’re like a total NEET,” you giggle into the phone, phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. You tighten your hand around the bar when the subway wobbles and around your bag of takeout when someone shuffles in the corner of your eyes.

“Not a ‘NEET’,” Tomura says, hissing into the receiver and you can hear the scene restart. “Look, if I’m a NEET then so are you.” He curses loudly into the phone and you wince, eyebrows furrowing and mouth pulling into a wince that he can’t see.

“You know,” you voice takes on a sing-song tune, “if you need help, I’m more than happy to give you a hint.” Your eyes flicker upwards, reading the poster taped on the wall and flickering down to a baby bouncing on their father’s lap. “If you descri—”

“It’s fine,” he drones. “Besides, you aren’t even home yet… Are you?” On your side of the phone you hear him slurp on something and a clatter of glass.

“No, not yet,” you confirm, “I’m like a stop away.” You lick your lips and glance out the window, sighing when the outside world still blurs by. “And I like totally fu-messed up too,” you pull a face at your almost swear, glancing at the baby who remains unbothered and father who checks his watch. “I forgot I had my headphones with me so like instead of talking to you through the mic, I have the phone pressed up against my ear and shoulder.” You stumble when the train comes to a slow, jostling people awake and others slipping their phones into their pockets. “My phone is gonna be all greasy and gross Tomu,” you whine, bouncing your leg and clutching the plastic bag tighter in your hand.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just have it delivered,” he grumbles.

“Because I was already—sorry, sorry,” you mumble with your head bowed as you weave out of the subway, wincing each time the plastic bag nudges at your leg, “I wasn’t thinking and I was already in the neighborhood.” You stand next to a wall, hands searching in your bag for your pair of headphones.

“Dumbass,” he snickers into the phone.

“Yes, yes. I’m very dumb,” you mumble, tongue sticking out as you untangle the wires, careful not to pull too harshly. “Now give me a sec, lemme connect my headphones.” You let out a sigh and begin your trek to your apartment. You smooth and the wires and speak into the mic. “Okay, I’m back. I miss anything? Finally beat that level?” You tease, a skip in your step as you wait for his reply to come. It’s silent for a moment too long. “Toma? You there, bud?” Still no answer. You step to the side of the sidewalk and see that call is still going on. “If you were gonna step out, should’ve at least waited to tell me,” you mumble to yourself, a frown tugging on your lips.

You disconnect the call and send a quick message to Tomura to call you later when he had the chance. You keep your headphones in your ear for the rest of your walk home, humming a soft tune and hoping that no one would stop you.

Shigaraki comes back to his phone with a reflection that stares back at him, a hand covering most of his face and a red eye that glares back at him. The screen is black and he pulls the hand off with a sigh, letting it hover over his chest before placing it delicately on the desk.

He frowns when the call has ended, the contact screen staring at him and a message icon is on his notifications. He reads your message with a neutral expression and checks the time. Thirty minutes until they go on a mission.

Your phone rings twice before you pick up with a cheery, muffled hello.

“Why’d you hang up?” He asks, getting straight to the point, fingertips drumming on the desk, eyes looking into the computer screen where he last paused. He hears the clinking of glass and wonders if you’ve already arrived home.

“Because I was on the call for like a minute or two until I figured I hit bad cell reception or you like had to do something,” you pause for a moment. “Was I wrong?” Your voice is muffled and he suspects that you are home and you’re eating. “What happened?”

A mission brief. One that went on long enough for you to hang up and be in the middle of your meal when he called. A pale hand reaches over to grab Father, placing it back on his face, instant relief and sickness coming to him all at once. “I had things to do,” he answers.

“Right. Things,” you say sarcastically and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Could’ve sent me a message or something. You don’t have to like just disappear on me,” you chuckle.

He hums and nods to himself. “Are you going out tonight?” He asks, closing his eyes, a hand twisting the shirt into his palm.

“Nah, why? Did you want to have a long call this time?” He stares at the cracked ceiling with disinterest. “I wouldn’t mind but—”

“I have something to do soon.” He flexes his hand in front of him and runs his thumb through his fingertips.

“Oh.” He hears you hum. “Why did you ask if I was going out then?”

His eyes shoot open and he stands straight. Why did he ask? He knows why. He can feel his breathing grow heavier, breaths ragged and throat tight. There’s a mission later tonight. Without thought, his hand wraps around his neck and nails drag across his skin, he lets out a low whine in response, pinpricks of scarlet bead out.

“Tomu?” You sound genuinely concerned. “Are you all right?” Fuck. “Did you hit yourself?” Fuck. “Tomura if you don’t say anything, I’m gonna think you’re dead. So like, can you please respond?” With a mind of its own, his hand pulls away, nails and fingertips shining with his blood. “Tomura if you left again without telling me I’m gonna be like,” you pause for a second, “annoyed.”

“What do you want?” He hisses out, hand dripped in blood curls into a claw.

“Oh thank god.” He hears you sigh. “I was worried you like fell or someone had broken into your place. Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” His lip curls in disgust and the hand on his face makes him feel sick, stomach churning and bile rising in his throat.

“Because you’re my friend.” You make it sound like it’s the most obvious thing. “All I hear from you is like silence for a while followed by a whine. I thought you were hurt,” you mumble, your tone is small, like a child who is being scolded.

He’s silent for a long time and his mouth burns, warm liquid seeps out and trickles down his neck. He feels sick.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, “if you’re not feeling good, we can talk tomorrow if you want? Sound good Tomu-”

He hangs up without a goodbye. The little finger that doesn’t touch the phone shakes. His heart is beating rapidly against his chest and it hurts. He wants to throw the phone at the wall and stomp on it until it’s broken in millions of pieces. He wants to decay the phone in his hands. He wants to- He takes in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, his anger still rising and threatening to boil over and cloud his mind. The phone is tossed on his bed and the door shuts behind him with a loud crack.

You don’t hear from him for few days. All your messages are unseen and unanswered. You dialed him the day after, left a few messages asking if he was all right and any other variation that you could think of. You’re too scared to actually dial him now; a sick feeling in your stomach when you think back to the last conversation that you had with him.

He cut you off so quickly. You were sure that this friendship was on the better half than it was when you both initially had met. Heck! He had even begun to talk about his days unprompted and would answer you when you would call to talk about nothing. But then he was silent and made a noise like he had gotten surprised at best or hurt at worst. You didn’t want him to be hurt. But with the way he wasn’t answering your messages and not even looking at them was making you feel sick every day. And it wasn’t like you could send someone of authority over since you didn’t even know his address or full name.

“God, this sucks,” you grumbled, running a hand over your face and gritting your teeth. Your fingers tap nervously on the side of your thigh, something to keep you in rhythm. “Maybe I’m overthinking this,” you tried to reason to yourself but the pit inside kept growing. “He’s always been secretive maybe he had a surprised vacation planned or like a family emergency.” You can feel the heat in the tips of your ears burn. You bring your hands up, your fingers tracing over the shell, noise muffled for a brief second. “He’s fine,” you tell yourself, voice firm and hands in fists, “I’m being silly.” You nod as if giving clarification to a statement said into the air will make it that much more true. “Plus, it’s not like I can do anything except for wait for him to message me back.” You don’t want to think about the “or” part of that sentence. Anything could be added after “or” and none of the options were good.

It’s silent in your room; your face is illuminated by the dim glow from your laptop. It burns hot on your blanket and provides you with additional warmth that soothes your nerves. Your eyes burn with sleep and head begins to hurt, fatigued by sleep and light that shines directly on your face. Your body grows heavy, eyelids begin to droop and your phone is fully charged, the green light shines bright and is unblinking as you stare at it. Your eyes glance down to the corner of the screen, the time blinks at you, flipping quickly into a minute in the future. Your eyes are back to the phone. You can feel the bags beneath your eyes droop, feeling that if you stay awake for any longer your own body will pull you into the bed until you’re a mess of limps entangled in a plush blanket.

Your phone remains silent and unmoved and you can feel you heart actually hurt. It feels as if it’s being squeezed; it’s a soft squeeze that leaves you taking in a bigger gulps of air, but the nails that dig in, that peel away at it the top layer and leave it exposed, is what truly makes it ache.

There’s been no contact from him in the past few days. The first day went by without worry, he’s done it before where you wouldn’t hear from him for hours and you assumed that perhaps he had been busy all day and fallen asleep afterwards. Messages were left unopened and you were disappointed but it was nothing to fret over. The second day, messages were still unanswered and the call you sent had gone straight to voicemail. The worry had dugs its claws into you at that point. One the third day, the first few messages were left unseen. The phones calls afterwards would ring for too long, making you sick with worry and a bottom lip that was bitten and stained your mouth in bright red. On the fourth day, you hadn’t bothered to send a message, reasoning that he would message you when he was ready. If he was ever was. The day bleeds into the night, your mind distracted by trips to stores for house necessities.

It’s late, the moon high in the sky surrounded by clouds and stars as you lay in bed, consumed by an online video. The screen dims, a notification popping in the corner to alert you that the battery in running low. With a click of your tongue, you put your laptop to sleep, the screen loading into your lock screen before going dark, the power light grows dim and you’re staring at your reflection in darkness. Your eyes adjust quickly and you close it softly, sucking in air through closed teeth when the bottom heats the pad of your fingers. It’s shoved off to the side, and you’re alone in the darkness. Hands search for the cord, fingers tracing a line down until it reaches the plug and it’s pulled out, tucked into the handle of your dresser with a soft clink of metal against wood. In the darkness, your thoughts begin to creep up, hands that grip at every part of your body and send both a mixture of chills and heat, it freezes you, makes you clammy and all at the same time makes you uncomfortably hot and twitchy. Dull nails are dragged across the blanket in an attempt to calm your nerves, the little moment of relief is well received. You repeat the motion, letting yourself indulge in the noise.

Your mind grows foggy and soon the repetitive motions become sluggish until your fingers twitch, once, then twice before coming to a still. You’re asleep for a wonderful thirty minutes where the promises of dreams start to lure you in. And then your phone buzzes to life. It’s a shrill ring that you set to make sure if anything had happened while you were unawake, the noise will wake you up and you’d respond to whoever it was on the other side.

It comes to an abrupt stop, the other person on the line having given up but then it rings again. Your body wakes first, hands searching blindly until the phone is pushed and falls onto the floor. You wince and search for the lamp, the light making you close your eyes and mouth pulled into a grimace. With a look downwards, you sigh when your phone has landed face up. Your body threatens to fall off the bed as you reach to pick up the still ringing phone. There are no cracks on the screen, still pristine and clear as you analyze the screen and through bleary eyes, you read the caller ID.

Tomura.

Your eyes shoot open and hands reach for the phone, a quick swipe of the green button. “Hello?” Your voice is slurred and heavy with sleep. You clear your throat. “Hello?” Oh god, please let him be okay, please.

“You sound tired.” He sounds forced- as if he had to push the words out of his throat.

You arch your brows and bite back a groan. “…Do you know what time it is?” Without meaning to, a yawn escapes you and you lay back down on your bed, your eyes struggling to stay open as you wait for his reply.

“Right.” He sounds distant and your worry bubbles over.

You lick your lips and glance to the night stand where an empty water bottle lays on its side. “Tomura? Can I ask you something?” You shift in your bed and pull the covers up to your chin.

“Whatever.”

You let out a low sigh. “What happened? You were gone for like a while.” Sleep slowly vanishes from your mind but it remains foggy, unable to filter what’s you’re trying to say. “You don’t have to like tell me, but I was worried that something had happened to you or like I don’t know, that you like just wanted to stop talking to me and,” you push the blankets off you and lean against the wooden bedframe, “I… Are you okay?”

He’s silent on his end. His breathing is the only thing that you can hear, it’s steady and it eases you a bit to know that he’s still on the line. Silence has filled your conversations with him plenty of times. They’ve been awkward, unnerving, but they’ve also been comfortable, reminding you that you’re not alone and that he’s still there. This silent however is just silent. There’s no reassurance that he’s okay; just that he’s still here. Sleep is fading in and out, a gentle tide that nudges you awake for a few seconds longer before receding back and lulling you back to your sleep.

“I’m okay,” he croaks out and in the background you hear a loud creak.

“Promise?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together and hands once again scratching at the blankets that warm you.

“Why do you care?” His voice is small as he speaks to you.

“Because you’re my friend,” you tell him, “I care about my friends Tomu. And you’re my friend so by like definition, I care about you.” You ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out your hair. “I- Am I your friend?” You take in a deep breath and run your thumb across the side of your finger. “You like don’t have to answer that now, I just—”

“Yes.” His voice is tight but clear. “I- You are.” You hear let out a shaky breath.

Your lips curve in a gentle smile. “I’m glad.” Tears still prick at the corner of your eyes and make your vision blur, you’re unsure if it’s from the sleep that still clings onto you or the emotional side of you that always makes itself more apparent in the dead of night.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound… different.” Different is the nice way to put it. He sounds defeated and lost. When he’s silent, you press. “Bad night?” You offer as a way to expand on what he’s feeling, a way to help him.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He says wearily, a loud yawn that confirms his tone.

“You wanna talk about it?” Your mind and body begs for sleep. “If you want of course. I don’t mind staying up.”

“It’s late.” It sounds like he finally realized what time it was, voice suddenly tired and thick with sleep.

“Yeah, Tomura, it’s really late.” You lie on your side, legs curled in and eyes are barely able to stay open. “But like, I’m already awake. The offer still stands, you know.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” He asks, his voice returning to that akin to a child, hopeful and nervous all at once.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You chuckle lightly. “Just like don’t flake out this time, okay?” You joke.

“I uh, yeah. I won’t flake. I promise.” The last words are soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear or even want to acknowledge what he had said himself.

“Okay. I’ll hear from you tomorrow.” With a burst of late night courage, you open your mouth. “Remember, you promised. And you can’t break a promise- especially to a friend.”

You hear him laugh, it’s muffled but it’s genuine. It doesn’t sound creepy to you this time, it sounds pleasant. “Yeah, I won’t.” There’s a brief second of silence. He wishes you goodnight and whispers your name. There’s a skip in your chest when says it and a grin grows on your face, slowly etching itself onto you.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Tomura.” A second of peace passes where you can breathe easy and you hang up first; the phone blinks the time that you’ve talked to him before going dark. You slide the phone onto your nightstand and the blanket bunches under hands as you curl in deeper into the bed, eyes closing without resistance and mind clear and chest light.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

@loveableasshole

@yul-is-sparkling

@noonewouldlisten25

@noodlenerd101

@localdisaster

@snackgod

@iikillerkitteh

133 notes · View notes

nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years

Note

Heyhihello!! Can i request a match up for ohshc?

This was from another request from different acc i did weeks ago so that requesting would be much easier, ill label the numbers so that its clearer for you to understand!

2. Hobbies

Ill add things i like here too, if thats ok 😸

:food, music (classic, alternative/rock, pop and many moree!) books, anime/manga, science, literature, daydreaming, laughter/smiles, kickboxing, volleyball, archery, knives and guns, cold weather, blue skies, strong wind, horror /thriller.

3. What i want to find in a s/o

4. What i dislike

5. Personality

Im also a capricorn and libra ascendant that is infj-t mbti personality type!

Thank you very much ♥️

[🌄 @michiyonakamura requested one (1) regular Ouran High School Host Club matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

Not to sound weird, but I love your energy 😭!! I admire the fact that you have such a good sense of self. I’ll make you proud, bud! 😤

(Btw, since you didn’t clarify your pronouns, I’ll just use they/them for now. I’ll change them if you want!)

And, it looks like you have an admirer:

🌷Tamaki Suoh🌷

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

In school, even in your second year middle school class, you knew the rumors far too well. The whispers that reminded you of viper hisses that kept one name relevant in your mind

The bastard son of Yuzuru Suoh, Tamaki

Despite the other kids explaining to you (Multiple times, at that) that the boy wasn’t worth talking to, you never understood the stigma around him

Maybe it was because your parents didn’t treat illegitimate children like the sin it was in the elite professional community?? But, you were genuinely confused at your classmates, who were so ready to deny the humanity of the new kid (Because of something he couldn’t control, no less)

You eventually asked for the opinion of your “friend”, Kyoya Ootori (Really, it was just an acquaintanceship built off the request of Kyoya’s parents. You knew that, but decided not to say anything out of liking spending time with him.). To which he responded that building a relationship with someone with such a horrible status held no benefit. But, he also knew that fact would hardly stop you

And it didn’t ❤️

You started your mini-mission with simple observation

Through watching at a distance, you learned that even though Tamaki was lowkey (highkey) shunned by his classmates, he was still the sweetest person imaginable towards them

Something told you he understood why he had the social standing he did. But, the fact that he chose to not act bitter made you feel warmer on the inside

You really, really wanted to talk to Tamaki. And hardly because you pitied him. But, because he seemed like too good and interesting a person to pass off

After further observation, you found out that Tamaki also loved music! (As he took a classical music elective)

And suddenly, you had your peace offering

The day after your discovery, you went to the library on campus and got to work. The idea was that you’d print out a ton of sheet music for piano and offer your friendship by giving it to Tamaki

You ended up printing out “’Moonlight’ Sonata”, “The Entertainer”, “Brandenburg Concerto No. 3″, and many others like them, putting them in a folder with a sticky note signed with your name:

“Wanna sit together at lunch sometime? :D —(Y/N)”

After that, you left the decision up to Tamaki. Sure, you wanted to be friends with him, but letting him come to you would be a surefire way to gauge his interest

The next day, you sat at your usual spot with Kyoya at lunch, who expressed his doubts about your efforts paying off

And while you did acknowledge that your little plan could always fall through, you kept your hopes up. The notion of making your life a bit brighter with The Power Of Friendship™️ made you giddy

As your talking veered into the subject of your curiosities about how the cafeteria’s gourmet lunches managed to be so good every day, you noticed a shift in Kyoya’s gaze. Instead of looking straight at you, his line of vision looked like it was going just past you

“Ah, excuse me? You’re (L/N) (F/N), right?”

You immediately turned around at the sound of the polite voice behind you

Well, what do you know!!

The lean boy behind you stood patiently, familiar folder in hand. His blond hair and near violet eyes only complimented his sweet-looking face. He was exactly who you were hoping to see!!

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that’s me!”

“I got the music you left on my desk, and I wanted to thank you! You have amazing taste in music.”

Your heart: ❤️✨😊🌺☀️

“Oh- geez, thanks! I kinda thought you’d like them. Wanna, maybe...sit and talk about ‘em?”

Tamaki brightened and you both looked towards Kyoya for permission. The two of you faced each other again once he gave a brief, exasperated nod

“Of course!”

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

Together, you, Kyoya, and Tamaki became the respective heart, mind, and soul of the Ouran High School Host Club

As the naturally likable manager, you were often a bridge between the two conflicting views of leadership. You brought a certain empathetic sense of responsibility to the table, which helped in most club functions

Tamaki, who you became rather close to, began to fall for your love of life, and your love for others

Even he was surprised by how many other clubs you helped out in, and made it his mission to make sure you don’t spread yourself too thin ((like he often did-))

Through you, Tamaki began to learn about all of your hobbies. And every day, he’d love you a little more

Your crush developed more slowly, but surely. You started seeing Tamaki as a romantic option when he started asking for you to teach him about the many things you enjoy. No one had shown that type of interest before, and honestly?? It was a little flustering

Soon enough, Tamaki couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to ask you out before the opportunity went away!

(((Sure, there was the issue of his customers being upset about his relationship. But, Tamaki would cross that bridge when he got to it, wouldn’t he?)))

It was actually in the library that Tamaki officially confessed. He gave you a book that you had already read, insisting that you look through it again. Albeit, confused, you complied by opening to the page bookmarked by a red rose. There, you saw a sticky note with a specific paragraph number written on it

The paragraph you read was a love confession that perfectly described Tamaki’s feelings

You looked up from the book to meet Tamaki’s eyes, that were free of the exaggerated version of himself. He was serious about this, and serious about you

After you two got together, Tamaki would’ve loved to flaunt his new relationship, but you eventually convinced him to keep it under wraps for now

In fact, he found the Secret Forbidden Relationship™️ shtick kind of ✨exciting✨

However, he will at some point get impatient and accidentally out your little romance to the Host Club (Kyoya had known all along of course)

One of your first dates was watching a “light” thriller at your place. In other words, the movie scared the crap out of Tamaki, while you comforted him like the knight in shining armor you are ☺️

Being as compassionate as he is, Tamaki would love easing you into becoming more verbally expressive. The improvement isn’t necessarily for him, since his higher understanding of other people means he can interpret how you feel too. But, he knows that taking that change is important to you, whether you’ve outright said it or not

Tamaki will become a lot more adventurous with you and all of your interests. The rest of his friends are actually concerned about his physical health 😅

During the winter months, you and Tamaki made it a habit of going out on days below freezing, and cuddling at a library/cafe

Expect many, many chocolate roses from Tamaki in the places you frequent, with sweet little love notes attached to the stem

^The notes also include polite reminders of tasks you may have forgotten throughout the day

The reason Tamaki loved dating you (And not just you in general) was because you two had gotten together of your own volition. No outside forces like wealthy family or meddling friends were involved. This relationship belonged to only you two, and that fact couldn’t be taken away 💕

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

#caravan commodities #special bindles #matchup #michiyonakamura.traveler #michiyonakamura.request #ohshc matchup #ouran high school host club #ohshc #ohshc x reader #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #BEING GROUNDED HAS NO BENEFITS #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT MICHI-KUN

5 notes · View notes

journal-of-an-outlaw · 5 years

Text

Price to be Paid - Chapter 13

The Next Big Step (AO3 Link)

Words: 5,413

After Arthur walked away from you and the wagon, you stayed glued to the spot where everything had changed.

Arthur Morgan had just kissed you. And boy, did he kiss you good.

Your mind reeled from the shift your friendship had taken. Off in the distance you could hear him and Hosea talking, the low bass and the higher tenor tones resonating to your location. A laugh burst out, and you hoped all was well and forgotten The two had a long history, it certainly wasn’t the first time the younger man had acted out.

Abigail rounded the wagon and found you smiling at no one and lost in your head.

“YN, you okay? What’s going on?”

“Jesus! Abigail, you scared me. Nothing, just looking out at the water.” You held your hand over your heart at the fright and wondered how you must have looked.

Your friend just laughed softly and joined you leaning against the wagon, a cup of coffee steaming in her hands that she sipped quietly. It was nice to enjoy her company after all this time, for she truly was the reason you were there at all.

“How are things? Jack liking his new books?”

He was, in fact he had already gone through one and was hinting at Hosea everyday that he needed a new one.

John had gone and done something foolish again that caused Abigail pain, and you wondered what everyone saw in him that gave him such high regards in camp. He was similar to Arthur in the sense he was raised by Dutch and Hosea, but his mistakes defined him and physically reflected with the new scars he sported from a wolf encounter back in Colter.

“Good evening, everyone! How is camp on this here fine, fine night?” Dutch’s voice rang out as he entered the scene, returning from wherever his grand plan took him today. His white horse, The Count, was tied up next to Old Boy and John waved Abigail over. She squeezed your arm and left, and you watched Arthur approach Dutch with something in his hands. The towel moved, and a glimmer of gold caught your eye. Dutch enthusiastically clapped Arthur’s shoulder and swung his gaze around camp, looking for someone.

“This, folks, is a win for today! See what faith in old Dutch can do? Our newest member, YN, has brought back a gold bar for the camp funds! That is some fine work you did with that treasure map!” Dutch promised to raise a glass in your honor later that night and you blushed at the attention.

Arthur walked over to you, giving your hand a subtle squeeze. “I told Dutch it was all you today with them gold bars, and that the biggest one was going to camp.” His voice was a whisper, but you could feel his breath against your cheek as he leaned in.

“You did not have to do that, Arthur. But thank you.”

He smiled and sat down, radiating an energy you couldn't quite nail down. Fingers tapped the wood table in a happy rhythm that matched his leg bouncing just out of sight. You longed to cover his hand with your own but the whole gang was sitting nearby and you still weren’t sure how things stood in a public setting.

It sure would be interested to see how this played out.

As you lay awake in your tent that night, you tried to sort out your feelings from the facts. After years of abuse you had escaped the tight grip of your father and found a new life. Fact. The same man who stole you from that fate also stole your heart. Feeling. You had learned to hunt, be around new folks, defend yourself, and even fight a little. Another fact. Your father, a bad man with a badge and a drinking problem, was probably out there looking for you while also searching for the Van der Linde gang. Again, fact. Arthur Morgan was one of the most complex men you had ever met, and yet still strived to do good in a world that demanded something different from him. Probably feeling, but you put it in the fact column due to your personal bias.

Sleep came easy after your mind was sorted, and the warm ball of energy never left your chest as you floated from dream to dream.

A sweet surprise was waiting for you on your pillow once you opened your eyes. It was a small white flower with no scent, but stunning petals and a beautiful yellow center that matched a top you had recently made with Tilly.

You emerged from your tent tenderly holding the bud in the palm of your hand and see Arthur leaning against the ammo wagon smoking a cigarette. As he noticed you approach he dropped the tail end of his smoke to the dirt and smothered the ends with his boot. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but never made it all the way across his mouth.

“Morning.” You stood next to him and admired the view out across the lake. Never an early riser, you enjoyed seeing what life looked like on the other side of your time frame.

“What’s that there?”

You giggled and held out the flower. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know, Arthur.”

He reached behind him and produced a small glass jar just big enough to hold your new treasure. “Here, I won’t be needing this anymore and I think this should just about fit. There. Fresh as, well, a daisy.”

A quick laugh escaped him as he handed you back the jar. He shook his head at his own joke and you rolled your eyes, but snuck in a quick kiss on his cheek before darting back to your tent with the glass.

Grimshaw found you before too long and dragged you off to do chores. She often made a move as if she would hit you for your ignorance, but was smart enough to spot the signs that you had grown up with a parent who had hit you for fun and not just discipline. It only happened once. You had flinched away from her so hard and nearly cowered against the wall she froze, making a mental note to never lay a hand on you again. Damn the man who tried to hurt her girls. In her mind she was the luckiest mother alive and would fight tooth and nail for those she loved at camp.

The usual suspects of Mary Beth and Tilly stood on either side of you while you cleaned the dishes for the week. Most of it was leftover bowls from the stew, but Sean had made some nasty meal that no one could figure out and took a lot longer to scrape from the plates.

“Wish I knew how to hunt.” Mary Beth dragged a cloth left and right across a plate to no avail as she spoke. “It would be nice to be able to provide something. I like robbing and helping find spots, but would be so great to be able to feel powerful. Holding a big gun, some rifle or the like.”

It was surprising to hear this from someone so soft, but it oddly made sense. “That’s why I like it. I can let you practice with my bow if you’d like sometime, Mary Beth. Takes a lot of work, though.”

She laughed, “No, that’s alright. I just like to wish about things. I’m so much more into books and writing, that’s my dream. To be a writer. Sit in a tall, covered chair in a clean office and write until I can’t think of any more words to say.”

You nodded along. “Well the offer still stands, but I do see you more of a writer than a hunter,” you laughed. “You’d be good, do you have any writing I could read? Been through most of my books already. I need something new.

“Oh! Maybe, it’ll need some harsh editing. Tilly’s real good and goes through my stuff before anyone else ever sees it. She’s a blessing.”

Tilly rolled her eyes at the compliment., “Your stuff don’t need much editing, Mary Beth. Maybe a few words added here and there but really, YN, she’s good.”

Tilly agreed to let you read the works only after she had finished editing and you were delighted. It was refreshing to not just discuss the latest job gone right or wrong and feel like you were just three women, living a normal and settled life.

Once the dishes were washed you left them to dry in the sun. Grimshaw allowed this task to be passed on to mother nature at least, and you followed Tilly back to a table to join Javier. For once he wasn’t plucking a guitar, but instead laying out dominoes in await of Tilly’s arrival.

“Ah, there she is! Ready to play, Ms. Jackson?”

Tilly nodded and took the seat opposite Javier, leaving you to take one of the backless boxes. The two of them were quick and played differently than Hosea did. Tilly let no emotion cross her face which was calculating and quick. Javier was trying hard to mimic her.

John walked over to stand and watch the game unfold.

“What’s that star on your chest, John? Does that say deputy?”

John moved to cover his chest with his arm but you lightly slapped his hand away so you could read it better. “It does say deputy! Now why in the hell are you wearing that? Dutch finally go off the deep end and get you working for the law?”

A small nod had the three of you balking up at the younger man. “Wait a minute, are you serious?” Javier asked incredulously.

“We went and helped the local law up in Rhodes. We blew up a moonshine operation for one of those feuding families and made it back with these damn stars. Dutch and Arthur both have them, too, but it means we can’t cause no trouble in town. Have to be on my best behavior. “

Tilly laughed but covered her mouth. “I’m sure that’s difficult for you all, Mr. Marston.”

John joined in the laughter and moved to get some stew. Javier spoke softly in Spanish and shook his head.

“Do you ever miss your home, Javier?” You knew he had fled Mexico at some point in his life but none of the details.

“Eh. My home is here now, with Dutch. Some days I do miss it more than others. It’s been awhile since I left Mexico, although I do miss the food. Handmade. A little spicy. Not this shit that’s been force fed down my throat for the past few months straight.”

Tilly threw a domino in his direction as Pearson was walking by, but Javier showed no fear at the larger man. He puffed out his chest making Tilly laugh again.

You rolled your eyes and decided to head off. “Anyone need to head to town?” They both shook their heads and you set off to find someone with a more adventurous mindset for the day. You were starting to get antsy with the same routine of waking up, doing chores, sitting by the fire, then going back to sleep. All that day Arthur had been doing something for Uncle so you still had unresolved feelings about your kiss the night before.

Lenny ended up being your knight in shining armor.

“YN! You ever learn how to fish?” The younger man called across the camp and waved you over.

“Sure I did! Won a few competitions back in Blackwater, too. You know that big salmon hanging up in the general store?” He nodded, eyes wide and watching you. “I’m the one who caught it!”

A beat passed before you realized he thought you were serious. “Oh, Lenny no. I was joking. Sure I know how to cast a line but making a fish appear on the other end is a skill I only semi possess.”

He laughed and clapped your shoulder, handing you his spare rod. “Hosea wants something other than beef stew tonight. I mean don’t we all. Let’s go see if we can catch us some fish, hmm?”

The small boat pushed off from the dock easy enough and floated out towards the middle of the lake. Camp got smaller and smaller, and you could feel yourself breathe easier knowing the air wasn’t so restricted around you.

Lenny hummed a tune you didn’t recognize after sitting in the boat awhile. Both of you were relaxing as you cast the line out onto the surface of the water, watching it slowly sink down.

“When did you learn how to fish, Mr. Summers?”

The younger man thought for a moment. “Hosea actually taught me not too long ago. I thought I was fine but he called me shit. Made me cast over one hundred times that day so I never forgot. I was about ready to toss him in the river but I will say, I have not forgotten how to do it.”

His smile was infectious. Lenny talked on about his fishing lessons and how Hosea used to get upset when Lenny talked down about himself.

“Hosea is funny that way. I’ve seen him more than once go off on Bill, rightly so, or Sean. He tends to stay true to his small group. You know, Arthur and Dutch and John. They’ve been through more shit than I care to ever see in my life.”

You nodded along to his story. Those men had a bond no one could chip away at, not even time itself.

After awhile, the pile of fish was large enough that Lenny wanted to head back. You had caught fewer than Lenny but still enough to feel productive, and knew Pearson and Hosea would be proud.

You reeled the string in but it wasn’t moving fast enough for your liking. The last few feet were taking too long so you leaned over to yank it in, tipping the boat slightly in your direction.

“Careful, YN. Don’t want you having to swim back to camp now.”

“Oh, I’m fine, just watch the -” The limit of your reach had been found as the boat finally tipped too far, launching you out over the wooden edge and headfirst into the water. The cold was a shock and water filled your ears and nose. You pumped your arms and floated to the surface, met by peals of laughter from Lenny in the boat.

“I told you! I told you, girl, you fell right in!”

“Really!” The situation was hilarious, you couldn't deny. But Lenny made no attempt at helping you up, mostly from laughing too hard. You glanced back towards camp and a few faces were watching you from a not too distant shore.

You swam the rest of the way back just to spite Lenny wrong. It felt good to stretch and move in the water, even if it did end up being much further than it looked. Your clothes would take all night to dry but you didn’t care. You took the opportunity to lightly scrub at your face as well, being fully submerged in water for the first time in weeks.

Lenny eventually met your soggy mess on shore and you punched him in the shoulder. Taking all the fish, you left him laughing away at the sorry sight you made.

Pearson stared as you slammed the fish down on the table in front of him. “Dinner!” You barked, “Is ready to be cooked. Do you need anything else, Mr. Pearson? Or can I please go get changed?”

The man blushed a bit but shooed you off. Grateful to be in your own space again, your wet clothes were disposed of quickly. Damn Lenny. Damn fish. Damn boat. What a day.

You emerged refreshed and feeling much better to find Arthur had returned for the day. He was speaking with Abigail but caught your eye over her shoulder, a wink meeting your grin as you approached. Abigail was deep in conversation so you let the two old friends finish up before watching Arthur approach you.

Neither of you had spoken since the night before, and the memory of that encounter made your cheeks flood with heat.

“YN, how was your day?”

“Wet,” you sighed. Arthur was silent for a moment until you met his gaze. “Lenny and I went fishing. I, well I fell in the lake. Soaked to the bone. Had to swim all the way back just to prove a point.”

He laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll say it again, YN. You’re something else.”

You motioned over to a quiet corner of the camp. “Let’s go chat, Arthur. About last night.”

A dark cloud passed over his face. His thoughts turned to rejection and you leaving, having another person let him down and break his heart. He thought after months or building something solid that he could have a real chance and not just another heartbreak to add to his growing collection. Arthur was a man who wasn’t afraid of pain, but-

His internal monologue quieted down when your hand slipped into his and led him to sit on the dock. A sweet smile was soft on your lips; like a ray of sunshine breaking through the darkness he had so quickly spiraled down.

“Arthur…” you hesitated. It was awkward to bring it up out of the blue, so you chickened out and changed the subject. “What were you up to today in town?”

He looked slightly caught off guard but answered anyways. “Dutch had some plan to uh, look into these families. Went to scout them out. Ain’t nothing special.” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his hat tipping forward slightly as he kept his eyes on you.

“That’s...well, actually that sounds boring. You sat and watched people all day?”

Arthur’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at your response. “When you put it like that yes, it is mighty boring. I’m ‘spossed to do it all week and report to Dutch.”

“Every day?”

“Every day.”

You shook your head. “And I here thought chores around here were bad. Weren’t you warning me about the dangers of outlaw life? Robbing and killing and kidnapping? I spent my day washing dishes, Arthur Morgan. Washing dishes.”

He laughed more openly at you now, shoulders shaking lightly. “Why don’t you come with me, then? It’ll be more entertaining than sitting by myself for half the day wishing I could hang myself from the nearest tree.”

Finally the tension between you two had been broken and you decided to take your chance, heart fluttering ever so slightly.

“I would like that. I would like to spend more time with you, Arthur. You’re, ah, I mean I like, aw hell help me out here.” A bright red flush covered your cheeks and you no longer looked him in the eyes, instead using your hands to hide your face and the words you were trying to convey.

You wanted to be with Arthur. If only you could convey that coherently. One kiss had you flustered like a little school child.

It wasn’t a surprising realization that you had come to. It didn’t tumble over you in one single moment or sneak up like a thief in the night. It took time and developed like a blossom, small at first but constantly growing the more attention it received.

Tentatively you tilted your head to look at the silent man next to you. In all your conversations you had noticed Arthur never drew conclusions quickly and often wanted a moment to think. You granted him that as you admired the small stubble that had started to appear over the past few days.

After a few moments he responded. “I don’t think you want to be with someone like me, YN. I...I am not a good man. Done bad things and don’t live a life someone like you deserves. I can’t say I don’t want to, but...I’ve been down that road before and see how people change and what the price is for being around.”

Instinctively you reached out to grab his hand and wind your fingers through his. No one could see you as you sat on the dock, which suited you just fine.

“Arthur, I’ve known bad men. I was brought into this world by one. I can’t have been the first to tell you that you ain’t a bad man, look at who raised you and who is around you now. You think Dutch or Hosea are bad? Think their badness passed on to you like some disease? That’s not how life works, Arthur. I wouldn’t be here with you now if that’s the only choice we had.” You paused for a moment, then rushed headfirst into the reason you wanted to talk in the first place. “And although it is hard for me to say, apparently, I do want to be with you, Arthur Morgan. I think you’re much more than the version of yourself that you’ve locked up inside that head of yours.”

He squeezed your hand and smiled out at the horizon. “Guess you made your mind up, then.”

“Guess I did. Do you…want...?”

“Yes, I do,” he confessed, surprised at how fast the reply came out of his mouth. “Darlin’, I want that more than anything.”

Arthur tipped your chin up as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your free hand grabbed his shoulder and bunched the worn leather as he deeped things and shifted one hand to the small of your back. A fish jumping nearby brought you back and you pulled back gently, looking up into those blue green eyes that now belonged to your man.

“I hate to ask this, but folks around camp tend to gossip. Do you mind if we keep this to ourselves just for now? Not to hide it!” Arthur reacted to the look on your face. “Just...I don’t want to rush anything and they tend to do that.”

“I understand, Arthur. I won’t tell anyone.” His mind at rest he helped you up from your seats on the dock and you walked hand in hand back to camp, until Kieran rounded a corner and you dropped hands, hoping he didn’t notice a thing.

That night at camp Dutch wanted to break open one of the moonshine bottles he and John had procured from their attempts at being lawmen. The plan was to try and sell the rest back to those they had stolen from, but everyone figured they wouldn't miss one jug. The clear liquid smelled so strongly that only one glass made it halfway around the circle before needing to be refilled. And that was nothing to say of how potent the alcohol was.

Down in the southern United States, liquor was made different. Sure you were Blackwater, born and raised, but this really took the cake. If you could muscle through the smell you would be knocked flat on your back in about three sips.

Karen managed to finish half a glass by herself while Mary Beth and Tilly just watched, helping her once it turned and she began to throw up not too long after. Javier and Sean danced around the fire speaking a strange mix of Spanish and Irish that somehow they both understood. Bill grumbled and fell asleep sitting up. Charles opted out, heading off with Lenny for guard duty. Dutch and Hosea each had a small sip but soon went to bed. Mrs. Grimshaw was watching Jack while Abigail and John sat and enjoyed the festivities, having a small sip each.

Sean was soon impersonating John’s drunk stumble and had the group in stitches. He had stumbled around himself enough to know how it went, but after one particularly large wipeout passed out and had to be carried off to bed by Arthur.

“YN!” Abigail called you over to sit with her and watch. You had a few sips and had to watch your feet as you plopped down across from her.

“How ya doing, girl?”

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at you. “Forgot you don’t hold your drink too well. Too many evenings in Blackwater I ended up half carrying you back home.”

“I am fine! Just nice to be out in the cool air. It hot out to you?” You struggled to stay atop your seat as you giggled at her. “Want to hear a secret? Can’t tell no one, though.”

Abigail’s interest was peaked. “What you hiding there, YN?”

You leaned in close to her face and whispered, “Me and Arthur, it happened. I kissed him, and we spoke today about being together. It’s happening, Abigail.”

“You did not! YN!” A girlish squeal burst from her and you tried to quiet her down but with no luck.

“Abigail! We want to move slow so we ain’t telling anyone, keep your voice down. You can’t even tell John yet.”

A voice at the table started you, causing you to nearly fall over. “Gonna be hard to not tell me when I’ve been here the whole time, YN. Damn, that moonshine really did a number on you.”

A flush filled your cheeks and you froze. “But I won’t say anything, except to Abigail who owes me. Pay up, woman, that was in my time frame.”

Your jaw drops as you realize they had a bet going.

“You two!” They laughed as you stood to go. “Think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

Arthur intercepted you while you were on your way to your tent. “Jeez, YN, Marston said you had a few nips of that moonshine and to make sure you were okay.”

You grabbed his arm to stabilize yourself, and admire the muscles that were formed just beneath his jacket. He chuckled when he saw what you were doing and, after checking the two of you were alone, pulled you closer to him.

“It’s a chilly night, Arthur. Hope you’re okay in that big tent all alone.”

He laughed again but kissed you on the forehead, murmuring something while his lips were pressed against your skin you couldn’t understand. He smelled like mint and tobacco leaves again, and the scent lingered as you crawled into your cot to fall asleep, worn from the day.

A few days later you headed off with Arthur to observe the Greys and the Braithwaites. Dutch wanted to wait after the first time just to avoid suspicion and not ruin the perfect picture he painted of the gang while working with the law in town.

Arthur was right. It was boring.

You counted the wagons that rolled by, you counted how many people greeted you, Arthur even began to describe the birds he had seen. It was a long few hours in the morning.

Around lunch is when things got exciting.

Uncle road up to your hiding spot, hollering about for Arthur. Eclipse had just munched down an apple he had given her as a treat, rubbing her nose and speaking to her in hushed, soft tones. Arthur had a particular way with horses, and they trusted him. Zeus let no one else even get close unless Arthur was nearby.

“Arthur! Oh Arthur, you hidin’ up in these hills? I got a job and I need your help!”

Arthur grumbled and threw the apple core to the ground and wiped his hands on his jeans. “What you telling about, old man?”

“Howdy, YN. Am I interrupting something here?”

You shook your head as Arthur’s hackles went up, and laughed to cut the tension. “You have something for me too, Uncle? Or do I just have to head back to camp now that you’ve showed up and taken my source of entertainment away?”

Uncle’s eyebrows shot up, but answered honestly. “Nah, Miss Moore, it’s a real job. I would ask you along, but we never rode together, no offense. I need Arthur to help me rob a stagecoach.” He stood proudly with his hands on his suspenders, chest puffed out.

“Robbing coaches? What you need me for? Take Lenny.”

“No!” Uncle started following Arthur as he began picking up your makeshift day camp. “I ain’t taking the kid out. Lenny’s great, but come on, Arthur! You know me, it’s a good tip! I swear.”

Arthur rolled his shoulders as he responded. “Only good thing about this is I get a chance to leave you with the law. What’s this wagon carrying, anyways?”

Now that he had his attention, Uncle knew how to reel him in. “It’s a stagecoach coming into town that is completely unguarded for a stretch carrying payroll or something. Lots of cash, it’ll be easy with you, me, Charles, and Bill. Three strapping men can do it no problem.”

“So why you going then?”

“Arthur!” You threw an apple at him lightly, and he ducked while laughing. Uncle watched the scene with a faint smile on his face that once Arthur caught sight of brought him to a halt.

“Uncle, sounds like a good tip to me. You sure I can’t tag along? Learn how it’s done?”

Arthur and Uncle both shook their heads. “Nah, YN. You head back to camp, ain’t too far. I’ll ride out with this lunk now and see you in a few hours. Shouldn’t be gone more than that.”

Uncle excitedly mounted his horse and started off, leaving Arthur to give you a hurried kiss and head off quickly after him. You sighed and cleaned up the camp, attaching everything in a rucksack to the back of Eclipse. She bumped your hand with her nose as you gave her an oatcake and mounted up. Out of curiosity you sampled the small cake, but spit it out. How in the hell was that a good snack for a horse? It tasted like bland oatmeal.

Arriving back at camp alone raised some eyebrows, but most everyone knew Arthur was off riding with Charles, Uncle, and Bill.

“Hey, Mary Beth! How were things today?”

The brunette groaned and rolled her eyes. “How do I hate Ms. Grimshaw? Let me count thee ways.”

You giggled, “So that bad, huh?” She looped her arm through yours and walked you over to the main fire where people had gathered.

“We washed clothes all, day, long. My fingers are bare down to the bone, and look at these fingernails!” She fake fawned into your lap and held her hands out dramatically. “How was your day out with Arthur?”

“Fine, we mostly just...stared at the people going by. It was not as exciting as I thought it would be. I think I counted seven carriages that went by, most just farm supplies or food. I started with the leaves but Arthur was about ready to turn to murder.”

You chatted by the fire for a few hours, relaxing with folks and comparing books with Mary Beth. She finally released her grip on some pages she had written and you set them tenderly on you bedside for later. Tilly promised they were incredible and you couldn’t wait to gush with them about it.

John came into camp and sat down at the fire as well. “YN. You know what’s taking those boys so long?”

The time had slipped away so easily, you hadn’t even noticed that it had been hours beyond when Uncle promised to bring them home.

“Who were they robbing, John? Should we be worried?”

He scratched his chin, thinking. “Uncle mentioned Leviticus Cornwall.”

Behind him, Dutch approached and swore. “Cornwall? Dammit, Uncle. John, would you ride out and see if they need any assistance? We need to keep our appearance up as good, law abiding citizens and it’s hard to do that if we keep robbing the same damn man!”

An idea struck you and you followed John through the dark over to the horses. “John. John! Wait up.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder. “Want me to tell something to Arthur, YN?”

“Nothing I can’t tell him myself,” you swung up onto Eclipse and clicked your tongue before he could rightly react. “I’m coming with you. Now, let’s go find our boys!” And the two of you took off before anyone noticed John took an extra rider.

#the price to be paid #price to be paid #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #reader fanfic #fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #writing

29 notes · View notes

scige-alt · 4 years

Text

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE — don’t look now, but is that saige beaumont i see? the 21 year old criminal psychology / linguistics student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be blithe, energetic, evasive and irrational, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

snjdfg these took so long i’m so sorry but anyways please LIKE and i’ll slide into yr IMs for plots !!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it��s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

#huntingtonintro #drugs tw #addiction tw #alcoholism tw #implied abuse #hit and run tw

10 notes · View notes

pinballwitxh · 5 years

Text

the mentees - part 1 (eggsy unwin x oc)

summary: a seasoned kingsman agent witnesses eggsy’s last test and sends him off with some advice. budding feelings between the two are even more intense as both witness the death of harry hart and turn to each other for comfort.

warnings: just a sh*t ton of violence and cussing cause, ya know, this is kingsman.

honestly i’m not sure how this will turn out but i love the church scene so much and i love eggsy so this will be my experiment phase with writing for him! def into harry hart as daddy too soooooo that will def be coming up in my master list soon. enjoy! also I super apologize for weird spacing and shit cause idk tumblr is weird w the phone sometimes.

The agent stared down at the computer screen with brows furrowed and hands gripping the armrests, “Come on, Eggsy, it’s just a blank. . .”

The recruit held his stance in front of JB, his beloved pug, gun pointed and ready. She could see the struggle in his eyes and it made her so frustrated that he wouldn’t just do it. The dogs had become close companions to the recruits, that was part of the idea behind owning a dog in the agency. This was probably one of the hardest tests out of them all, she had decided after passing it herself.

On the other monitor stood Roxy before her own poodle, gun aimed and ready.

She pulled the trigger and visibly the tension in her shoulders released. Merlin was congratulating her with a pat on the back, whereas Eggsy was still rigid and aiming. Arthur was growing very obviously impatient and she knew that Eggsy would not be able to do it.

In the end, he had the biggest heart of them all.

This proved to be true as he handed the gun back to Arthur, head down and ashamed. She watched as he scooped JB up into his arms and left the room quietly. Immediately she was running out of the room and met Eggsy at the bottom of the grand staircase.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” he snapped, “What a bullshit place this is-”

“Why would you even say that? You trained so hard, Eggsy, and you gave it all up for-”

“My fucking dog? Yeah, I did so why don’t you just leave me the hell alone and go back to your posh suits and fancy cars and forget all about me?”

‘I’d never want to forget about you, Eggsy Unwin.’

For a moment she was silent and shocked, the two had become such good friends and she would be lying if she said those words had not hurt. Agents were not supposed to have any romantic relationships, even close friendships like the one they had was hard to navigate in the agency. Eggsy pulled JB protectively close to his chest and looked down at his feet.

“That isn’t what I meant, Eggsy, you could be so great here,” she paused and placed a tender hand on his arm, “I think you might change your mind if you talk to Harry.”

The feeling of his warm skin beneath her hand felt like electricity. She had felt this way around Eggsy several times leading up to this moment, but it was so intense.

“I’m packin’ my things and goin’ home, ain’t nowhere else for me to go and I am not talking to that fucker.”

She shoved him, “Don’t talk about Harry like that, he got you here!”

“And I obviously wasn’t meant for it, so I’m not going to disappoint ‘im any more,” he began to walk away but before exiting, he turned back to her, “Y’know, you ain’t so bad,”

She crossed her arms, “Well thanks,”

He smirked, “Maybe I’ll see ya ‘round, luv?”

“That’s up to you, Eggsy.”

‘Please don’t leave.’

He nodded once more and turned to leave, reluctantly, and her heart plummeted. Once his figure disappeared from the sunlight she sighed and headed back towards the office. Merlin greeted her with a pained look on his face, he knew Eggsy hadn’t passed and it had disappointed him somewhat, as well. Though, he would never admit it, the boy had grown on him.

She was going to miss that cheeky bastard, no doubt. They’d shared some not-so-subtle glances and flirty comments with one another during his time there.

There were the secret winks he’d shoot her way, the way his eyes roamed her body when she wore a skirt, his smug smiles when she praised his work, but most of all the way he listened to her and drank in every word. In the end Eggsy would have to admit that her advice had turned out to be some of the best he’d received during his time at Kingsman.

She smiled at Merlin, “Roxy will do wonderful here, Merlin.”

He nodded, “I think she will too, good to get some females in the agency.”

She laughed, “Now I have someone to gossip and have lunch with that I can really tolerate!”

“Oh, come on now, I’m always down for a good gossipin’ sesh, yeah?”

“Considering your job allows you to attain private information, your gossip is the absolute best, Merlin.”

A few hours later Merlin received a call from Harry to reroute the Kingsman cab that Eggsy had stolen (which caused her to roll her eyes so far that it hurt.) She stood behind the computer-genius as he directed the cab to lock Eggsy in and drive itself to Harry’s house. Eggsy was obviously very mad, “Come on, bruv! He hit my fucking mum!”

She gasped quietly to herself and turned to Merlin, “Anything we can do about that?”

“I’m sure we can take care of it once Harry has talked some sense into him,”

For another hour Eggsy and Harry discussed everything and to say Eggsy felt horribly embarrassed was an understatement. She had been right, talking to Harry made everything come to light and make sense. Mr. Pickle seemed to bore holes into the side of his head the entire time, reminding him of what he had failed to do.

A high-pitched beep interrupted the two agents as they sat in the office, breaking the silence. Merlin leaned forward and beckoned her over on the other office chair, “Got a signal coming from. . .Kentucky?”

“Valentine’s?”

“Sure is,” he paused and hit another button to dial Harry’s contact, “Harry, listen to this. Valentine’s at last saying something of note.”

The four agents listened in separately to the conversation between Valentine and Gazelle. A location was discovered and immediately Harry was on his feet and ready to come back to headquarters. She briefly caught a glimpse of Eggsy through Harry’s glasses and smiled to herself, he had definitely calmed down and profusely apologized to Harry as he gathered his things.

“Harry, I’m so sorry and I’m gonna do everything-”

“You should be,” she smiled at Harry’s blunt retort, “You just stay right there, I’ll sort this mess out when we get back.”

“We’ll meet you at the air-strip, Galahad,” Merlin said before he hung up.

“Agent Percival, gather your things together as well,” Harry said before abruptly hanging up.

Her heart jumped at the mention of her going out into the field, it always did when she was asked to go. Especially since Harry had been her mentor, and still was, she enjoyed working with him.

Soon they were enroute to Kentucky via the private jet the agency owned. Merlin debriefed both of them once again on the information they had. While they were unsure about Valentine’s intentions, Harry reiterated that it was necessary they be on guard and ready to fight.

Agent Percival made sure that all of her hidden weapons and gadgets were working and ready before exiting the plane. Once on their way to the church, Harry went over the plan they had discussed once more. She was ready to figure out Valentine’s motives and put an end to whatever he was planning on doing.

“How is Eggsy?”

Harry quirked a brow at her, “It will take some time, but I think he’ll come back around and be joining us.”

She smiled, “He’d do so well with us, Harry, and I know you know that.”

“Of course I do, he’s just like his father,” he turned to her, “Don’t forget the rules, Agent Percival.”

Her face heated up and she turned to him, “What on earth do you mean by that?”

“You know very well what I mean by that,” he said as he placed his hands on his knee, “There’s certainly no secrets between you two and the rest of the agency.”

She looked down and tried to hide her tinted cheeks, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

There was a silence before Harry chuckled, “He’s very loyal, you know?”

She smiled to herself, “Good quality of a qualified Kingsman,”

“Indeed,” Harry hummed to himself.

Just before they arrived she turned to him, “Thanks for teaching me everything, Galahad.”

He nodded, “You haven’t let me down, Percival, although I never doubted you or your abilities.”

It was silent then as they approached, churchgoers entering the sermon five minutes before it was scheduled to start. Stepping out of the car she smoothed down her blazer and tailored pants before taking Harry’s arm on the other side. They entered the church together and looked around for empty seats.

Unfortunately they had to sit on opposite sides of the pew since it was so full already. Soon after they sat down a small worship service began which soon turned into a rather nasty and bigoted sermon from the preacher. Percival tried not to show the disgust on her face and instead played with the buttons of her purple blazer.

“Charming sermon, can you see Valentine anywhere?” Merlin’s voice echoed in her ears.

From the corner of her eye she saw Harry’s gaze focused somewhere in the corner of the small church. Indeed, there was a small camera placed above them.

The sermon dragged on and honestly, she was bored. Valentine wasn’t showing up and nothing was happening, it seemed like a useless mission. Harry seemed to think the same thing as he sent her a quick nod from his seat.

Harry stood to leave, Percival deciding to wait about two more minutes before she also left so as not to cause a big distraction.

However, a woman next to Harry was rather peeved that he was ready to leave.

“Hey, what’s your problem?”

Every eye turned to Harry and the preacher paused in his sermon, eyeing Harry with hate.

Percival had to contain her laughter as Harry turned back to the woman and curtly responded, “I’m a Catholic whore currently enjoying congress out of wedlock with my black, Jewish boyfriend who works in a military abortion clinic. So, hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon, madam.”

The look of pure shock on her face made Percival want to laugh even harder, so she turned back to the front of the church and regained composure in her seat.

Just before Harry reached the door the woman cried out, “Just leave this church! You just leave this church like the infidel you are!”

Percival twitched a little, a high-pitched ringing filling her ears for a split moment. She shook her head to clear the sharp pain out of her head and once her eyes refocused, something was very different.

“Satan cannot save you now! You will eat your babies! You will drown in the blood of the Lord! He will not save you!”

The entirety of the congregation was standing with fists clenched and glared at Harry. Percival stood as well in order to blend in, but she couldn’t shake the slight ringing that was still in her ears.

She ducked her head out into the aisle, “We need to leave, now,” she whispered to Merlin and Harry through her comm.

Something else made her twitch again and without any control, she began to see red and was absolutely angry. Her fingers curled around the gun inside her blazer pocket and hooked onto the trigger.

She turned just in time to see Harry shoot the woman point-blank in the head. Hell was unleashed upon all of them, then.

Before the person next to her could strike her down she whipped around and shot a bullet into their head. Blood spattered and stained her dress clothes but she wasn’t concerned in the slightest.

For what felt like hours, her head was in a blur of blood and combat. Anyone who crossed her path was dead and every person around her was savagely doing the same thing. Being trained in combat by the Kingsman has given her the ultimate upper hand.

The number of innocent people had dwindled and after being thrown against a splintered pew she met Harry’s eyes. He charged her and she fought back with all the strength she could muster.

While fighting each other they managed to kill the last remaining people as well. She took hold of a broken candlestick and charged at her mentor, who easily blocked her. They pushed and shoved, punched each other mercilessly and attempted to take one another out.

“STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER!”

They ignored Merlin’s pleas and finally Harry had her in a headlock. She growled and slipped out of his hold, elbowing him sharply in the nose. She smiled at the loud cry he made and the feeling of the bone crunching under her elbow. Just as she turned to finish him off he blindsided her with a pipe from the organ.

Everything went black and she fell to the ground with a painful thud.

Harry stood over his agent and trembled with confusion, the frenzy in his mind was gone and all he could remember was the pure desire he had to kill every single person in that room. As quick as it was there it was suddenly gone. The girl beneath him groaned quietly and sat up slowly, the left side of her face blackened with a nasty gash running through her cheek.

Her voice trembled, “W-what happened?”

Harry quickly helped her up and ordered her to stay low, pulling her towards the back of the church and under some fallen pews.

“I need you to stay here, I’m going to secure the area outside.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she responded as she tried to stand, dizziness taking her over immediately.

“That’s an order, Percival,” he said as he pushed her back to the ground. His eyes were kind and she knew he had good intentions by keeping her there, but she felt utterly useless.

Harry stepped outside and once the doors slammed shut, she hesitantly made her way over the absolutely mangled and bloodied bodies to the front of the church. Peering out a broken window she watched the confrontation between Valentine and her mentor. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying as focusing seemed to increase her migraine even more.

She didn’t miss when Valentine whipped out a gun and shot Harry without warning.

She clamped her hand over her mouth and sank back against the wall, tears streaming down her face and screams threatening to come out. He had just been shot point-blank in the face.

The world was silent for what felt like infinity before Merlin’s voice came into her ears, “You need to leave right now, out the back behind the dumpster-“

“And we’re just going to fucking leave Harry’s body? Absolutely-“

“There is no time, Percival!”

In her attempt to stand she fell back to the floor, broken glass piercing her palms. With what little strength she had left, she crawled outside the doors and limped to Harry’s side.

She sobbed over his body and could not bring herself to look him in the eyes, well, the one that was left. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her torso and she struggled against their hold.

Merlin flipped her so he was cradling her to his chest. She beat into him mercilessly and attempted to turn him around to at least retrieve his body, but to no avail.

Eggsy leaned back in Harry’s chair, tears streaming down his face and pure hatred growing inside his chest.

To see her so broken like that, to see the closest thing to a father he ever had shot dead, to sit in that empty house knowing he would not return killed him inside.

THE MASTERLIST | GO TO PART 2

#eggsyunwin #imagine #kingsman #harryhart #merlin #galahad #lancelot #fanfiction #taronegerton #colinfirth #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin #harry hart #taron egerton #colin firth

34 notes · View notes

luckjustkissedyouhello · 5 years

Text

ISAIP Fic Teaser - Love So Sterng I: Pound Puppy Eyes

I’m working on a fanfic. i’ve been working on it forever....since January. It’s easily the longest fanfic I’ve every written, and clocks in at ~42,000 works. AND I’ve finished it. Currently, @brownwithafrown is very kindly betaing it. I discovered, on reaching the ending, that the fic will be a series. I’m so proud of finishing that i thought i’d post the the opening scene tonight.

Warnings (for the fic in general, not just the opening scene): Graphic violence. Foul language. More violence (in this scene). Blood. Vomit. Mentions of past (physical) child abuse and neglect, as well as mentions/discussions of past childhood sexual abuse (aka: Uncle Jack). Self harm. Prescription drug misuse. Anxiety/Panic Attacks. Non-canon Character Death. [I think that’s all - am I missing any @brownwithafrown?]

This scene especially is heavy on the violence/whumping of Charlie and Mac. The endgame is CharMac, though this fanfic doesn’t go there. No other pairings in this fic,

Title: Love So Sterng I: Pound Puppy Eyes

Summary: One of Frank’s bad choices has dire repercussions for two members of The Gang. Can they (and their friendships) survive the aftermath?

Mac doesn't register what he's hearing, at first.

He's down in the basement, rearranging the boxes of extra booze. Charlie complained he piled them too high. There was a step stool right there, for that very reason, but Charlie said he didn't like climbing on things, (not if he wasn't blitzed out of his head on inhalants and climbing a leaning tower of boxes to freedom via an air vent, apparently). And when Dee went down to get rum, she just squawked that the boxes were too heavy and that she was dizzy from basement fumes. Dumb bitch. So now Mac is pulling down the boxes, taking out four bottles per box so that there's only eight rather than twelve in the box, and stacking the boxes so they're chest height, no higher.

It's not his fault that he didn't know his own strength anymore (not that anyone gives a shit how hard he worked to look good and keep them safe with his hot new rockin' bod) and so he made the boxes too heavy. He hated doing inventory anyway because of this. Everyone had an opinion, but no one did the work (not that he didn't try to slide out of it himself). Also, it's not his fault that he couldn't find any more boxes. So now there's a lot of liquor bottles all around him on the floor. Brown liquor, clear liquor, whatever the hell Jägermeister is… And Mac may be debating snagging a few bottles for his and Dennis's place. It's not really stealing, if he's taking something he'd just drink in the bar without paying, right?

He has to admit, it's a decent workout, lifting boxes and moving things around, which is why he put on his workout mix a little while ago. The music tells his body to go more faster. So his ear buds are in, not even at maximum volume, but it still takes a while for him to realize that there is an awful lot of stomping and crashing going on upstairs for a bar that is closed. Charlie is up there cleaning while Mac moves the stock around. They closed early, it was only eleven on a Tuesday, but Dee was out on a 'date' (yeah, right) and Charlie was bummed because he hadn't seen Frank in days, and Mac was bummed because Dennis was in North Dakota again, visiting D/BJ ('don't call him Dennis-slash-Brian Junior' Dennis had shouted at him, but Mac thought the nickname was great and wanted to keep it - at least until the rest of the gang heard it - they had rules about this, banning of nicknames was not allowed without the nicknamer and nicknamed present, as well as at least one other member of the gang). So they decided to have a movie night to keep Charlie's spirits up. Which was why he is thinking about what liquor to snag – whiskey was winning out because Charlie tended to get sad as shit when he drank vodka straight and if Mac was honest with himself, Jägermeister made him kind of violent (the last time he had drank nothing but Jäger and Redbull, he put his hand through the mirror in the apartment's bathroom) when he accidentally sets a box on the earbuds cord and doesn't realize until the little earbud is ripped out of his right ear as he turns to grab the next box.

Just in time to hear a loud thud and Charlie scream. Mac's guts turn to ice. Because he knows each and every one of Charlie's screams, from frustrated to happy, sad to hungry, stoned to confessing love, (Charlie screams a lot) and that one was a rare one. That was the sound of pain. Charlie says something, Mac can just pick up on the highest sounds through the floor, and then there's another, softer thud than the one before.

Silence. Something is not right. Mac knows it in his bones. He runs for the stairs, he can't leave Charlie of all people alone up there with a threat, Charlie wasn't good in situations like this, didn't know how to ever just shut up and follow instructions, listening to the robber's words rather than getting distracted by like the light reflecting in a puddle or whatever else caught his eye – Mac once watched Charlie stare at the point of a mugger's knife for, like, three whole minutes before getting his wallet out while Mac and the crackhead *both* screamed at him fork over his cash. Which was only two dollars, in nickels, for some odd reason. Charlie was lucky Mac was with him and he didn't get knifed then, 'cause Mac was more smart and took Charlie's arm and ran as the mugger stared at his fistful of silvery metal and got this frustrated I'm gonna stab you anyway look on his face.

And. Yeah. No one is supposed to hurt Charlie. Not when Mac is around. He had made that promise to himself, and out loud to Charlie when they were like eight and Charlie had crawled through his bedroom window (scaring the shit out of Mac, who didn't know Charlie could climb up the side of his house like Spiderman!), sobbing and refusing to say why. Eight year old Mac was Ronnie then, and he held on to his friend and promised that he'd protect him, which just made Charlie cry harder. Mac had never forgotten that promise, and in school he caught more than one beating that was meant for the other man (and okay, sometimes Charlie got his ass kicked on Mac's behalf, but those weren't Mac's fault!), but Mac had made a promise to his oldest friend that day nearly forty years ago. He isn't going to break that now!

Charlie's rat bashing stick is leaning against the wall by the basement door. Without any other weapon, Mac decides it is better than nothing. Part of him is tempted to hide down in the basement and not come out. If it was anyone else up there alone, maybe he'd do that. But there's another thud, and now he can hear through the basement door the other guy's deep voice - fuck he's probably big - and Charlie's higher one shouting something, but he can't figure out what the fuck either of them are saying.

Charlie shouts again in pain, and that gets Mac moving again. It's Charlie. He can't leave him. Even if Mac is so scared his guts are frozen ice, he knows he has to see what's going on. He edges into the keg room, glad the door is open into the bar and he can sneak over to the doorway. What he sees makes him want to turn tail and hide, but also go over and beat the man's brains in with his bare fists.

Charlie is curled up fetal on the floor, on arm around his middle and the other up over his head, and Mac is pretty sure there's blood on Charlie's face, but he can't really see at the angle he's at. The dude, who is about Mac's height but looks much less beefy, but he's got a gun pointed at Charlie, and that's scarier than if Arnold himself was in the room. Mac heart is thudding so hard in his throat as he watches that he's afraid they both will hear it thudding and give him away, but they don't. The man just boots Charlie in the face, twice in rapid succession, boom boom without giving Charlie a chance to recover or even get his hands up to protect himself and says calmly: "I know you know where Frank is," while Charlie groans in pain, blood leaking between his fingers as he cups his hand to his smashed and bleeding nose.

"I don't!" Charlie answers, his voice is muffled by the hand he's got to his face, but it makes something twist in Mac's chest to hear Charlie sounding desperate and clogged with blood.

The man growls, actually growls and Charlie tries to shrink away, but he's got a dazed look on his face like he's not all there anymore and Mac can't blame him. Being kicked in the face is disorientating. The man reaches down and wraps his free hand in Charlie's hair and pulls up - Charlie cries out and has to grip the man's arm to keep from losing hair. The man shakes his fist and jerks Charlie's head around (wow, Mac's never seen an adult do that to another adult, though his father was fond of doing that to him when he was being a little bitch that didn't listen good). The man lets go of his hair and looks at the sleeve of the gray blazer he's wearing, marked by the blood that was on Charlie's hand.

Charlie's eyes go wide and he starts to raise his hands up, but the stranger is quicker. Mac watches it happen in what feels like slow-motion, helpless to stop it, the man swinging the gun in his hand in a wide, punishing arch that ends with a crack against Charlie's left cheekbone and Charlie starts to fall to the side, but the man grabs Charlie's shirt collar in his fist to keep Charlie upright and hits Charlie in the face with the gun twice more so quick Charlie doesn't get a chance to brace himself between blows. The bastard isn't giving Mac a chance to step in, he's got the gun too close to Charlie for Mac to try and stop him - he can't take the risk that the man will shoot Charlie before he will get to them.

Seeing the man just whale on Charlie makes Mac angry, his hand tightens on the Rat Stick as he watches. He prays as he does because he can't *do fucking anything*, just watch as the man lets go of Charlie's shirt and Charlie fucking crumples to the ground with a moan of pain. Mac fucking prays more in those moments than he has in the last year, begging God or Jesus or like, Saint Jude (the patron saint of lost causes and therefore pretty much the one that probably gives a shit about guys like Mac and Charlie) to step in and not let Charlie get shot. Mac isn't sure what he'll do if Charlie were to die.

Charlie doesn't get shot. Instead, he fucking *writhes* on the floor, banging his right fist into the ground, hard, muttering 'fuck, fuck, fuck!' under his breath. Like that can distract from the pain that his face must be in. Mac hates himself for just watching, but he knows, he *knows* he only has one chance to surprise the bastard with the gun and get Charlie (and him) out of this alive.

The bastard points the gun at Charlie. "Tell me where Frank is and I won't shoot you in your fucking face."

"I don't know where he is," Charlie says, his voice is still desperate, that sad desperate of someone who knows that they won't be believed, even though he's telling the truth.

The asshole growls again, and steps towards Charlie, the gun pointed at the floor as he raises his foot to kick Charlie again. And Mac decides that's it. Here's his chance. He needs to step in now, while the gun is pointed at the floor rather than Charlie. Mac finds that despite how much he hates seeing Charlie hurt, how much he hates this guy for hurting Charlie, a large part of him wants to be a coward and hang back, rush for the safety of the basement and hide there. But he can't do that. Can't leave Charlie to get beat up more, or worse.

Mac raises the bat and runs at the bastard. The guy turns to him just as Mac swings the bat. The spiked bat makes solid contact with the prick's head, Mac feels the shock of it connecting go down his arms (it's like driving a speeding car into a brick wall) and then Mac is sitting on his ass, having fallen for a reason he can't quite figure out for a long, dazed moment.

The guy hits the ground, the bat sticking to him, a spike shoved into his right eye, another driven in to his cheek. Mac stares at him, because the guy isn't moving, not even to breathe, and Mac still isn't sure why he's sitting down, except that *he* can't breathe and something catches his eye, he looks away from the not moving man and looks down at himself, because the something that caught his eye was blood, bright red and on his chest and it's his blood, and...and....there was a bang of the gun going off, wasn't there?

+++

end of teaser.

Thanks for reading!

12 notes · View notes

reluctantheartcd · 5 years

Text

◤ ∴ SAWYER TASK 001 - interrogation.

Hello, Mr SAWYER HAMMOND. My name is Detective Booth and I’m handling this case. I don’t need to go into details; you know why you’re here, and we already have you down as a suspect in her death. We’ve got witnesses to corroborate and a budding timeline, but we need more information from you directly. Make my day easier and cooperate with me on this, will ya’? I just need you to answer these questions for me. Do me a favor and don’t lie – you’re talking to a trained professional right now, I’ll be able to pick up on certain things whether you realize it or not. Lying will only come back to bite your ass later on. Just some food for thought. Let’s begin.

Q: I’m gonna’ start light. I hate interrogators who go straight into the hard stuff, ya’ know? I find it impolite. So, tell me a little about yourself. Give me your full name.

“My name is Sawyer Aidan Hammond.”

Q: Alright. Tell me your date of birth and age.

“I’m 22, born on October 14th”

Q: Where did you grow up? What was your home life like? Tell me about your family and your upbringing. Give me your story.

“I grew up in Boston. My family’s pretty rich so things were always comfortable. I don’t know what else to say, really. I wasn’t spoiled but I never struggled. i don’t really have much of a story, detective.”

Q: Tell me about the most impactful people in your life. I’m not picky – they can be good or bad impacts.

“Uh, the guy who sold me drugs in high school impacted me. I guess that was a bad way though, huh? The best person is my little sister, she’s 17.”

Q: What are your goals in life? What would be your ideal final ending? What would help you reach these goals?

Sawyer sighed and leaned back in his chair, “I just want to get a job, man.”

Q: How would you describe yourself?

“Pretty easy going, I’m confused a lot of the time though. Some people call me dumb.”

Q: What do you do in your free time? What’s your idea of fun? What sports or extracurriculars are you in at Hyland University?

“I play football and lacrosse here. I don’t know what I do for fun, I just sort of do things.”

Q: Do you drink? Smoke? Take drugs of any kind? Answer carefully on this one, kid.

“Look, you have my file. I’m sure you know that I went to rehab, but I’ve been clean for going on two years.”

Q: Tell me about the relationships in your life. Friendships, romantic, everything in between.

“Teddy’s my main man. Uh, I’m good friends with Eden, Dora, Caroline, Noah, and Galilea. Alex and Arwen are my exes, and Shiloh fuckin’ hates me. I think I’m cool with everyone else.”

Q: What’s the best thing that has ever happened to you? What’s the worst?

“The best thing? I guess going to rehab. The worst was probably rehab too, to be honest. It sucked ”

Q: Let me throw in a fun one, lighten up the mood. Would you rather only be able to tell the truth or only be able to lie?

“Tell the truth.”

Q: Did you kill Morgan Parrish?

“Nah, man.”

Q: Let’s get some background information on this. How do you know Morgan Parrish?

“I met her at a party, that’s how most people know her. She liked to party.”

Q: Explain the extent of your relationship with her. Was it platonic? Civil? Rocky? Romantic?

“I guess rocky... We were sort of friends, but then things went downhill.”

Q: In your own words, describe Morgan Parrish to me.

“Uh, she was a big party girl, basically took as many drugs as she could get. She was good at school, though.”

Q: Would you say your life got better or worse upon meeting Morgan Parrish?

“When I first met her it didn’t change, but worse when she ruined the life of my girlfriend at the time.”

Q: What was your favorite thing about her?

“I mean... she was hot? That’s basically it. She was good in bed, too.”

Q: What was your least favorite thing about her?

“She was manipulative and a bitch. She walked all over people and only cared about herself.”

Q: Where were you the night of her murder?

“I was at a party off campus.”

Q: Where were you the day before?

“In my classes, duh.”

Q: Where were you after?

“Dude it was almost two years ago, I stay in and do homework on Sundays so I was probably there.”

Q: How did you feel about her passing?

“Uh, weird, I guess. I don’t really know anyone who died other than old people.”

Q: What do you think about the way she died? Just as a refresher, Morgan Parrish was drugged, strangled, beaten, and then shot.

“It’s shitty, I don’t like to think about it.”

Q: Did you make any sort of tribute to her death and put it on social m-

Another interrogator walks into the room. She’s holding a folder with your picture clipped to the front. She opens it in front of Detective Booth and whispers something into his ear. He shoots you a look and then excuses himself from the room. He returns twenty minutes later, features stony. He quickly writes something down on his notepad and then caps the pen.

Q: Change of plans. I’m going to scrap the questions I had prepared and ask you what I see fit. Where were you exactly the night Morgan Parrish died?

“I told you, I was at a party off campus.”

Q: Tell me all the details you can remember from that night.

“I remember getting to the party and drinking. I didn’t blackout, but I smoked and decided to go home when I got bored.”

Q: Were you intoxicated at any point?

“Of course I was, it was a Friday night.”

Q: Are there any witnesses able to corroborate your story?

“Anyone else who went to the party. I don’t know, I didn’t go home with anyone, though. It was pretty soon after Alex and I broke up, I didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Q: I feel like you’re leaving things out. Tell me all the details you can remember from that night.

“I already told you, I went to a party. I got drunk, and then I went home. There are security cameras outside my apartment, you can check them if you don’t believe me.”

Q: … are you telling me the truth, kid? We got six other students we’re talking to today – sure would suck for you if one of ‘em was able to prove that something you’re saying is false.

“I don’t really care how many other people you’re talking to, because I’m telling the truth.”

Q: What was the last thing you said to Morgan?

“I don’t know, probably that I never wanted to see her again. The last time we spoke it was after we hooked up and I left to throw up.”

Q: Have you ever gotten into a physical altercation with Morgan before?

“No, just regular fights.”

Q: Have you ever fought verbally with Morgan?

“Of course, but everyone did.”

Q: Would you say you felt safe around Morgan?

“Why would I feel safe around someone who blackmailed me?”

Q: Do you wish you had never met Morgan?

“Sometimes, yeah. –– actually, a lot of the time.”

Q: Do you own a gun?

“No, and neither does anyone in my family.”

Q: Have you handled a gun before?

“Nah, they freak me out.”

Q: Do you know someone who owns a gun?

“Probably. I mean, I’m white and rich, most of my parent’s friends probably have guns.”

Q: Have you gotten into physical fights before?

"A few times, mostly in high school.”

Q: Is there anyone who can prove where you say you were on the night of her death?

“Didn’t you already ask this?”

Q: Do you think Morgan deserved to die?

“No one deserves to die.”

Q: Do you wish she was still alive?

“No.”

Q: Do you miss her?

“Not really.”

Q: Has your life gotten better or worse since her death?

“It’s been the same. She died but it doesn’t change the fact that I cheated with her.”

Q: If you could bring her back to life, would you?

“Probably not. Things happen for a reason.”

Q: Are you hiding something from the people of Hyland? From your family? From me?

“I’m not hiding anything, man. I don’t tell people I went to rehab though.”

Q: Have you been telling the truth this entire time?

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Q: Did you kill Morgan Parrish?

“No.”

#hylandtask #this is so bad NSKSNJKSJ #hes rly just so clueless and doesnt have anything to hide

2 notes · View notes

saanphoenix · 6 years

Note

If you're still accepting prompts for Connor can you please write something where the reader likes to play scary video games but they always end up being too scared to fall sleep at night so they call Connor over to keep them company?

This is not exactly what you wanted, but. I got a few spaces on the Bingo card and I feel that counts for somethin’.Warning: 2.7k words and swearing. RIP mobile users should Read More fail.

You listen to the sounds of your feet echoing off the wooden floor beneath you as you sneak your way through the decrepit house you’ve wandered into for supplies. Groans and growls give away the position of the zombies outside. One’s just beyond the window you crouch-walk under, snorting as it no doubt flails around to check the slight creak it’s just heard but can’t find the source of. One’s to the far left of the house, beyond the room you’re in and the adjoining hallway.

It won’t cause you any problem, so long as you do nothing stupid like knock a vase off a night table trying to open a drawer like you did last time. No, it’s the one near the window that poses the problem.

You want to exhale, to calm your nerves as you slink forward another foot towards a dresser that probably contains a few extra shotgun shells. But you can’t. Because your dumb ass turned on the option to allow real world sounds influence the game. If you so much as sneeze you’re dead. So, you hold your breath, praying that the damn stiff near you shambles on before the end of time.

Something clatters loudly to your left, startling you. You turn your head to the left, your heart already in your throat, only for your brain to realize a second too late that the noise came from beyond the headphones on your ears.

“Noo!” You exclaim as the window shatters, spraying glass down onto your character. Decaying arm’s wrap around your neck as yours rise up to stop them.

The only thing that keeps you from flinging your headset across the room is your left hand’s ability to remember just how much the damn thing cost.

Shaking from the adrenaline rush, you pout your lips and glare over at the source of the noise that did you in.

Your cat sits on the side table beside the recliner, blinking slowly as it makes itself comfortable in the heat of the lamp. The small glass bowl that’d held your pens, nail clippers, and screwdriver? Dead on the floor.

“Thanks, cat.” You seethe. “Not like I was in the middle of doing anything.”

You receive another slow blink in reply.

Without the artificial light of the headset’s screen pouring into your eyes, you suddenly realize how tired they are. Looking up at the clock, you inwardly cringe at the time. Shit, it’s already one in the morning? I’m not going to like work tomorrow. With a sigh, you get up and switch the console off. At least autosave’s got my back. You pick up the mess your cat made, shooing them away with a wave your hand so you can put everything back in proper order.

It takes you fifteen minutes to get ready for bed. You mentally cross the number from the amount of sleep you could have had had you not gotten completely absorbed in the game you’d been playing. I’m really not going to like work tomorrow, you tell yourself again. Four hours is not a lot of time to sleep.

Snuggling into your covers, you try to put your mind to rest, try to convince your body you need to pass out right now or else.

Your efforts are in vain. You’re still too wired from the excitement of trying not to die in virtual reality and failing miserably. Every course of action you could’ve done differently plays out in vivid detail behind your eyelids. You frown as you roll over and try to get comfortable again. If only your cat wasn’t an unintentional asshole. If only you didn’t insist on playing with the most extreme settings the game allowed just ‘for an extra challenge.’ If only–

The loud clatter that startles you this time comes from outside. Behind your house. Suspiciously near where your trash cans are.

Raccoon, the logical part of your brain says. Rat. Literally any once-woodland creature come to scavenge for the scraps of humanity.

Ah! Zombie! Shrieks the dumb part of your brain that sends you jolting upright in bed as you reach for your phone on the other pillow to call– Murderer! Jason Voorhees! –not the police.

But who to call other than Not-The-Police? Who the hell is up at one-thirty in the morning that won’t be horrendously pissed off by pleading with them to check the perimeter of your house because you’re too much of a chicken shit to do it yourself?

Your thumb scrolls through your contacts, presses a name, and dials Not-Technically-The-Police. The other line picks up almost immediately. Having the number directly to someone’s head is handy like that.

“Hello?” Connor asks, slight concern sneaking its way through his usual calm tone.

“Connor,” you grin as you sing-song his name. “How’s it goin’?”

There’s a small pause on his end before he asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Why else would you be calling me at near two in the morning on a work day via the emergency line I gave you?”

You laugh nervously. “Yeah, no. Everything’s fine. There was just… noises… outside of my house. And…”

You can practically hear him nod, you’ve learned his mannerisms that well. “You want me to come check it out for you.”

“I figured you’d be the only one up who might stand a chance against armed rodents.”

“Rodents? Perhaps. Armed rodents? I’m not so sure. They’ll definitely have more firepower than me.”

You snort, drawing your legs up under you. “What? You can’t steal Hank’s gun?”

“I could,” Connor replies smoothly. “I don’t think he’d like that very much.”

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You look over at the digital clock glowing on your nightstand. You’re not getting any sleep tonight. It’s too late for you. Tomorrow’s going to be hell. But at least Connor’s coming over. Misery loves company, after all, and you love Connor’s.

You hadn’t expected to when you’d first seen him. You hadn’t given the old guy with the rundown but well-loved car who lived down the street much thought before then. He was just a weird dude who could use a stylist. But then, one day, a young man had mysteriously appeared in his front yard. A young man who was doing his best to hold a Saint Bernard still while trying to wash soap suds off its fur. And, though you had a cat, you liked dogs, too. And you quickly discovered you liked warm, attentive brown eyes. Eyes that had blinked when you’d asked, “Need a hand?” because you knew blurting out, “My God, you’re adorable,” wasn’t socially acceptable.

Learning Connor was an android didn’t really put a damper on your budding friendship. It wasn’t like you’d been one of the many people to flee Detroit during and after the great Robo Revolution of 2k38. If anything, such knowledge made Hank’s comment of, “If you like him so much, you can keep him,” a little less awkward. You had a crush. You hadn’t exactly asked for his hand in marriage, yet.

And it’s that crush, you think, that probably clouds your judgment. “You sure you’re okay doing this? I don’t want to bother you.” Pester, maybe. Not drag him away from something important.

“You’re not bothering me,” Connor replies. He’s being earnest even when it sounds like he’s merely stating a fact. “Your safety’s more important than reviewing Hank’s old case files.”

You cringe. “You were working. I’m sorry–”

“I was researching,” Connor hastily interrupts you. You know he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s quick to do the same with Hank. “Nothing pertaining to a current case. Just something to pass the time.”

You doubt that. Connor’s quick to lie if he thinks it’ll put someone’s mind at ease. At least, he is now. Listening to him and Hank talk sometimes, you get the feeling he wasn’t always that way. But you imagine that’s what comes with the whole deviancy thing.

A knock on your door almost makes you drop your phone. “Jesus Christ!” You mutter, mentally berating yourself and your frazzled nerves.

“Not quite.”

With an angry pout, you flail your way off the bed and pad loudly to the front door, which you open with the full intent on giving Connor a piece of your mind.

“You could–”

Connor stands politely at your front door. His brows raise slightly as he tilts his head to the side. You’re momentarily thrown off by the look he gives you. His eyes travel to the phone still raised to your ear, reminding you that it’s there.

Pressing the screen, you end the call and then point the device at him, “You could warn me before you do that next time.”

“I knocked,” he reasons with faux innocence.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Connor smiles, a small thing but no less genuine. He deftly changes the subject. “You said you heard a noise?”

“Yeah. I think it was my trash can.”

His eyes dart down as he thinks and then meet yours again. “You should probably accompany me while I investigate. I don’t think we want anyone mistaking me for the culprit.”

You nod. That’s a good point. Calling Connor to avoid calling the cops and then having someone else call the cops on Connor would be an awkward scenario at best. You take a step towards him, expecting him to move out of the way so you can lead him to the backyard, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he holds his hand up and gently pushes you back that one step. Confused, you look up at him.

He smiles at you again and looks down at your feet. “You’re not wearing shoes,” he explains. “It might be more efficient to walk through the house to get to the back.”

“Oh. Right.” You blink lazily. Turning around, you head off in that direction. You ignore your cat as it bolts across the floor to hide when Connor enters the house. No matter how many times someone comes over, the darn thing always gets spooked. “You’ll have to excuse me. It’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’ve had no sleep. I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders.”

Connor doesn’t reply, but you know it’s simply because he doesn’t feel the need to and not that he didn’t hear you or that he’s trying to be rude. Connor’s a thinker. Whether it’s because he’s an android, one meant to be a detective type, or because it’s just a facet of his personality you’re unsure, but the occasional silence has never bothered you. It’s always seemed companionable. More-so than with any other android you used to try and talk to in the past.

When you get to the back door, you step aside and look to Connor, waiting for him to do the honors. He seems to know you don’t trust what awaits on the other side and obliges. He steps outside without a care in the world, triggering the security light. You hang your head out the door and look after him, holding the door frame as if you’re trying to support it and not the other way around.

“See anything?” You whisper loudly so as not to disturb the crickets.

Again, Connor doesn’t respond, his eyes scanning the grass, the newly made mess of trash cans, recycling bin, gardening tools, and a rusted bike you should really look into replacing.

You’ve never really seen him work before. Stare off into space while cross-referencing something, yes, but nothing with the amount of intense focus he’s doing now. You admire the way his lips turn downward as his brow twitches. He certainly is beautiful.

You feel a little disappointed when he turns his face away from you, staring down the length of your house. Seconds tick by and the more that do the more you start to worry.

“Connor?” You ask.

His head snaps back to face you. You didn’t even notice he’d tensed up until you see his shoulders relax. But then he’s struggling to find words and you realize he’s seen something. He’s seen something and he doesn’t know what to tell you, most likely because he doesn’t want to frighten you. Too late for that.

“What?” You demand, voice flat in an attempt to mask your growing anxiety. Fancy that. The dumb part of your brain was right for once.

He blinks and then he’s moving towards you, his gait unhurried but purposeful. “Get inside,” he commands, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder and you allow him to guide you back into the house. He shuts the door behind him and locks it. Despite how your heart starts to hammer in your chest, Connor looks as cool as a cucumber.

“What?” You ask again, voice cracking a little. Zombies don’t exist in this world. Other predators do.

“There’s thirium on the ground outside.”

“Blue blood?”

“Yes. It’s old. You wouldn’t be able to see it. But its trail leads across your yard and into the neighbor’s.”

You shake your head as your tired mind attempts to deduce things like his. “So… An android tried to steal my garbage? Tried to break into my house?”

“No,” Connor answers and looks to you. He’s being honest. “That was a raccoon. There’s hair caught on the lip of the metal can, most likely pulled out when it lost balance and then knocked everything over.”

You sag. “Oh, thank God. That’s good. I can handle raccoons.” Your brow furrows. “Then why did you act like the android was the problem?”

Once again, Connor struggles. His eyes get a far-away look in them as they wander away from yours. You might not be firing on all cylinders, but you think you’re figuring it out. When his eyes find yours again, you know you have.

A smile graces your face. “You’re worried about me,” you say, pleased.

Connor hesitates before answering, “I know what injured and scared deviants–androids–are capable of.”

At first, the comment sounds random. But as you think about it you realize what he’s insinuating. Just because the android wasn’t here tonight doesn’t mean they hadn’t been here at all. Instead of crossing through your yard to safety, they could have just as easily broken in to hide. Or…

Your smile fades. “You think they’re still out there?”

Connor takes a deep breath. You wonder if the action has been programmed to calm androids like it does in humans, just to make them seem a little more natural. “In my experience?” He asks rhetorically. “Frightened, damaged androids rarely go far.”

“Oh. Oh, good. That’s great.”

“Nothing’s happened these past few days? Not that you’ve noticed?”

“No.”

“Then chances are you’re safe. But if you’d permit me, I’d like to remain here for the rest of the night. I can keep watch as you get some sleep. Check the area after you’ve awakened.”

You nod, numb. You don’t have an awesome robot brain to calculate statistics, don’t know how close you came to misfortune. But Connor knows.

“You’d really do that for me?” You question.

The small smile he gives you makes you think it was a dumb question. He finally moves away from the door and steps closer, head tilted as he gazes down at you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You have no answer. You’re too busy memorizing all the little details on his face–the moles, the small dimple in his chin, the way that one little strand of hair falls over his forehead–to even remember how to speak.

His smile grows. “Tell you what. I’ll do you one better.” He places his hands on your shoulders. “I’ll even call your boss. Leave a message saying you’re going to be running late because of a police investigation. Give you a few more hours to get your beauty sleep.”

He winks and suddenly you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “Marry me.”

He laughs, a quick exhale of air as he bows his head. There’s a grin on his face when he raises his head. “I’ll think about it.”

#detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #long post

337 notes · View notes

helheimraptor · 6 years

Text

Don’t reed into it too much [Gavin Reed & long time friend reader]

Word Count: 2,591

Warnings: Blood and violence.

Side Note: I'm writing this in Australia, so let's say that Gavin and Elijah went to high school is Australia for now, I do not promote underage drinking, unedited and it is quick time shots of a friendship.

Age: 15

Gavin storms into my room as I'm lying on my bed, scrolling through my phone.

"Adriana, I need your help," Gavin spits.

"What have you done now," I question as I get up to approach the short male.

"I fucked up again," Gavin says vaguely.

"Doesn't take a detective to figure that out," I tease patting his shoulder and wandering down the stairs to the kitchen, Gavin on my tail.

"Shut up, I made my girlfriend angry again, she wants to break up but I don't know what to do," Gavin explains as I pat my dog who is outside the kitchen.

"Break up with her first," I say simply, grabbing an apple and tossing it to Gavin so he can chew something.

"How," Gavin asks with his mouth full of apple.

"Ugh, want me to do it?" I sigh, giving in to his puppy dog eyes.

Gavin nods quickly, I signal for him to give me his phone which he does gladly.

I dial his girlfriends phone number.

"Ugh, you have emojis next to her name? Gross dude," I tease and he just glares at me.

I wave him off in dismissal as she picks up.

"GAVIN I DONT WANT TO FUCKING TALK TO YOU!"

"Woah geez, chill, it's not Gavin, it's Adriana."

I get cut off by the girl.

"Oh. You. You're worse, but why are you calling me."

"Oh I just wanted you to know Gavin doesn't want to see you anymore, he's been seeing me for a couple of weeks now and the fight you had just tipped him over the edge so he gave me the honours of telling you," I explain this to his ex sweetly.

Gavin fidgets when I mention us dating and I know he's had a crush on me for ages but I friend zoned him in year seven.

"you BITCH!"

With that swift swear word she hangs up and blocks Gavin's number. I smile at Gavin and hand him back his phone.

"You're gonna need to do it yourself sooner or later," I say pulling myself to sit on the bench.

"I know I know, it's just I don't ever know how to do it," Gavin complains.

"Simple. Tell them you're done and hang up and block them," I explain, knowing how to do it all too well.

Gavin looks at me, his head cocked slightly, he looks confused but that's how he thinks.

••••••••

Gavin follows me sheepishly through the school and to our home classroom, which is a single building with three different classrooms and a kitchen and living space like thing.

"Shit is she in our tutor class?" I ask Gavin quietly as he leans against a wall.

"No, she's here to see, what was me, but is now Josh, the jock," Gavin explains.

I see Gavin's ex girlfriend flirting with Josh, the school footy team leader. Footy = AFL - Aussie Football League.

"God," I mutter with a sigh and look over to other people socialising.

I zone out for a bit but come back when Gavin hits me in the stomach.

"Here she comes, careful," Gavin whispers.

I groan in frustration and crack my knuckles, ready to have to fight someone.

"Both of you are assholes!" Gavin's ex yells in our faces.

"Hmm? Oh you said something? Sorry, can't hear you over your self-centredness, surprised you can even realise we exist considering you own the world apparently," I say sarcastically.

"You two won't get far after school is done, you're the loners."

"I beg to differ," I say, looking around the corner to see Me and Gavin's large friendship group enter the building and come surround us.

"Who's the one who's a loner now huh? Leave us alone," Gavin spits.

All of Gavin's friends and my friends surround us in a circle, all talking about their weekends.

••••••••

1 year later - Age: 16

Gavin is lying on my bed, blasting Thirty Seconds to Mars music while I get ready for a party we are going to.

"Hey A, Gav," I hear my younger brother say.

"Hey bud," I reply as I tie my hair up.

Gavin looks up and waves to my younger brother.

"Where are you two going?"

"Oh just out to a friends place for a birthday thing," I lie.

My younger brother knows we are going to a party but he tells my parents where I'm going and he knows he has to say exactly what I say, so I lie to him.

"Ok you know what Mum will say, don't stay out too late and don't get drunk."

"Course not," I say shooting my brother a smile as I grab my leather jacket and tap Gavin to say we are going.

I ruffle my brothers hair on the way out of my bedroom as we walk to my older friends car.

"See ya bro," I say as I get in the front seat and wave to my brother.

Gavin gets in the backseat and we drive to my friends place.

"Hey Max, who's at this party?" I ask my friend.

"Mostly people you know," Max replies.

I nod and turn to the window, thinking while we drive.

Max is my closest friend, apart from Gavin, he's 18 so he drives us places, mostly to parties that my parents have no clue about.

We pull up to the large house and get out, Gavin grabbing my arm to get my attention as he walks beside me.

"Who's party is this anyway?" Gavin asks me as we reach the front door and max knocks.

"You'll find out in a sec," i reply with a smile.

A familiar face opens the door and Gavin's jaw drops, it's the hottest year twelve of the school, Carmine Ritchies.

"How?" Gavin asks me as I hug the host.

"I know people, such as her boyfriend," I explain as I wander through the party to find one particular person.

There he is.

"Hey E!" I shout and grab the boy's shoulder.

The boy turns around and hugs me tightly, he's our age, 16 but he managed to get into year twelve and is graduating this year.

"Wait, Elijah Kamski?" Gavin reacts, shocked.

"Yep, told ya I knew people G," I say playfully pushing Gavin's shoulder.

"You didn't tell me you know the man who is blueprinting Androids!" Gavin exclaims.

I wink at Gavin and accept the drink Elijah has offered me. (Choose your drink of choice, keep in mind the characters are 16)

•••••••••

Another year later - Age: 17

"Oi Reed!" I shout as I pull up to his place where he is sitting outside.

"Seriously? A motor bike?"

"What else did you expect?" I toss Gavin a helmet and he chuckles as he hops on the back.

Gavin's arms snake around my waist as he holds on for dear life while we speed through the city, Androids are slowly becoming more and more popular, thanks to Elijah Kamski moving to Detroit and starting Cyberlife.

Androids are just making the break world wide and they just reached Australia and everyone loves them so far.

I stop the bike outside of a shopping centre and Gavin and I go inside, but find an Android running rogue.

"Ah shit," I say as I run after the Android and Gavin runs after me.

I jump over obstacles and people, leaving Gavin trailing behind me, dodging people awkwardly. I slide under a bean two workers are carrying and jump on the Android, Gavin finally catching up. The Android grabs the knife he dropped when I tackled him and he goes to slash at me when Gavin tackles him instead to save me, his nose getting sliced open and his side and stomach get stabbed, large gashes made in them, blood going everywhere.

I hear a bystander call an ambulance and the police while Gavin throws the knife away and knocks the Android out cold, possibly killing him.

Gavin stands up and walks over to me, blood falling down his face and staining his shit and he asks me if I'm okay.

"Gav, you're fucking bleeding, are you okay? Don't stress about me," I say quickly, I search around for something to stop the bleeding when a bystander hands me a hankerchief.

I smile at the stranger and thank them thoroughly, as I sit Gavin down and apply the hankerchief to the wounds. Gavin looks at me, his eyes squinting in pain.

"I don't need to be taken care of like a baby," Gavin says as the ambulance arrives and tends to Gavin, taking over from me.

"That's just your toughness talking there Gav," I exclaim as the paramedics finish tending to Gavin and check to see if I'm okay.

•••••••

21 years later - Age: 36

Gavin is standing next to me, his arm resting on my shoulder as we watch Hank try to convince a deviant Android to confess to murder.

Gavin is about ten centimetres taller than me so even though he himself is a short ass he still teases me about being short and does that most often by resting his arm on my shoulder to remind me that I'm short.

Hank enters the section behind mirrored glass of the interrogation room, clearly giving up when Gavin speaks up.

"Could try roughing it up a little bit."

Gavin looks around the room for opinions but gets nothing, he eventually looks at me to which I shake my head no.

"You're meant to back me up," Gavin jokes.

"Yeah but not this Gav, it's a stupid and useless idea," I say with an innocent smile.

Gavin playfully pushes my head in return with his mischievous smile that he always wears.

"Well what do you suggest then Adri?" Gavin asks me.

"Connor could try it," I reply looking past Gavin to the Android in Grey and blue.

Gavin sighs and nods approvingly, so do Hank and Chris. I look at Connor and give him a nod, telling him to go and try the android.

"Y'know how I hate the android, why'd you suggest his idea and not agree to mine," Gavin whispers in my ear, both of our arms are crossed.

"Because sometimes you have fucking stupid ideas and that was one of them," I reply, leaning my head back to whisper to Gavin who is standing a bit behind me, while I keep my eyes on Connor and the deviant.

"oi!" Gavin whisper shouts and shoves me lightly.

I shoot Gavin an innocent smile and turn back to Connor, catching Hank glare at me.

Minutes later Connor has successfully extracted a confession and the android has been taken to its cell, but not without Gavin pointing a gun to Connor's head when Connor steps in to defend the Deviant so it doesn't die.

"Fucks sake Gav, you didn't need to pull a gun on Connor," I exclaim as we wander out the precinct doors and to our apartment.

"What else was I meant to do?" Gavin asks me, hoping on the back of my bike.

"Not point a gun at his head?" I reply sarcastically.

Gavin shuts up, wraps his arms around my torso and we speed back home, the situation replaying in my head.

"You shouldn't touch it, it'll self destruct if it feels threatened," Connor warns.

Gavin turns to Connor, anger fuming his eyes.

"Stay outta this, got it? No fuckin' android is gonna tell me what to do," Gavin threatens.

Gavin turns back to Chris wrestling the android while Connor continues to talk.

"You don't understand, if it self-destructs, we won't get anything out of it!"

"I told you to shut your fuckin' mouth," Gavin shouts, eyes shooting daggers at Connor. "Chris you gonna move this asshole or what?"

"i'm trying!" Chris struggles.

I'm standing on the sidelines with Hank watching everything unfold, worried for both androids' safety.

Connor intervenes and pushes Chris out of the way, stepping between Gavin and the Android.

"I can't let you do that, leave it alone, now!" Connor shouts, shocking me because I've never heard Connor let alone an android shout before.

Gavin pulls his gun on Connor and I freak.

"I warned you motherfucker," Gavin exclaims, blatantly angry.

"GAVIN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!" I shout, Gavin ignores me the first time, his gun and eyes still trained on Connor.

I go over to Gavin and push him.

"GAVIN REED!" I shout, but Gavin pushes me away, sending me into the floor.

"Adriana, mind your fucking business," Gavin says through gritted teeth.

I stand up quickly and pull my own gun out and point it at Gavin.

"Detective Gavin Reed, stand down," I say sternly.

"You wouldn't dare," Gavin mocks, his gun on Connor but his head and eyes on me.

"You wanna try me?" I reply.

"Adriana, you know you wouldn't shoot me even if I did try you," Gavin scoffs, turning his head back to Connor.

I cock my gun and hold it stronger at Gavin's head.

"I wouldn't kill you, but i'd shoot you in the leg and you know that, so stand down detective," I growled.

Gavin scoffs and lowers his gun, glaring at Connor.

"better luck next time," Gavin murmurs.

Gavin walks past me, bumping my shoulder aggressively as he goes back to his desk.

"I'm taking you home remember?!" I shouted as Gavin swears loudly.

I smile at my achievement and step back and let Connor deal with the deviant.

•••••••

"Lookie here, the plastic prick has returned, good job on last night, buddy, you're lucky there were others there to stop me from killing you right there and then," Gavin shouts.

I hit Gavin in the gut really hard, which causes Gavin to lean over and groan in pain slightly but that doesn't stop Gavin from going and harassing Connor.

"Get me a coffee dipshit," Gavin exclaims at the Android before him.

"Gavin, let him be, Hank has it under control," I say sternly.

Gavin turns to me and glares, his grey eyes piercing my crystal blue ones.

Gavin turns back to Connor who's looking at me, I give him a smile before Gavin grunts and storms away.

"Sorry about that and last night Connor, he had an incident when he was a teen with an Android that caused his anger towards Androids," I say approaching Connor.

"It's okay, I imagine some people might not be comfortable with my presence," the Android replies.

•••••••

"How do you deal with Reed?" A co-worker asks me.

"I don't know, i've known him since year 7, so about 23 years, at this point we are like brother and sister," I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

"Yeah, you two even dress similar," The co-worker says.

I look at what I'm wearing and then I look at Gavin who is talking to Chris at his desk and see we are both wearing dark blue pants, similar coloured shirts, his is greyish blueish and mine is black and hooded leather jackets.

Gavin wears a grey v-neck t-shirt with dark blue jeans and a brown leather jacket with a hood, whereas I am wearing dark navy cargo pants, a tight black t-shirt and a black hooded leather jacket, just like Gavin's except in a different colour.

"ok you have a point, we are both very similar," I noted.

My co-worker just smiles at me as Gavin wanders over to us, a coffee in his hand, his face completely red and his eyebrows furrowed.

"What happened G," I question watching as Gavin places his mug down violently.

"We are getting an android for a fucken partner," Gavin spits.

I sigh at Gavin's reaction and pat his shoulder, getting close to his ear.

"Maybe you'll have to get used to it, shocker," I mock as I wander away, my fingers running across his shoulder and giving him a playful wink as I walk over to Connor, just to spite Gavin.

~~~~~~~~

#dbh #Detroit: become human #Detroit become human #Gavin reed #androids #detroitbeomehuman #Detroit become human oneshots #Detroit become human imagines #dbh oneshots #dbh imagines #Detroit become human x reader #request dbh to me pls #requests #dbh requests pls

65 notes · View notes

skullcanons · 7 years

Text

Things That Go Bump in the Night - Chapter One: Odd Knocks

Under the cut because it’s long.

Beta’d by the amazing @novuenova!!

Read it on Ao3

You honestly couldn't believe that the most terrifying month of your life started on an average Monday but, as you looked back on October from your place curled up on Papyrus's floor, you had no doubt that it all began on that fateful morning.

October 2nd, 201X

Some people say that when bad things are just around the corner, you can sense it. Perhaps if you had, your month would have gone much differently. As it stood though, that Monday had been one of your most average yet.

You woke feeling slightly groggy, nothing unusual for the beginning of the work week. After standing and stretching, hearing a few cracks from your back in the process, you proceeded to the shower and washed the sleep from your eyes. From the shower, you emerged fresh and ready for the day, and it took you no time at all to change into your uniform. The restaurant at which you worked was a small, Mom and Pops breakfast-brunch diner. You worked full-time, which didn't amount to much seeing as the place closed at 12 anyway, and the owners were very nice.

It was just the usual then, that when you got to work you were greeted with a plate of breakfast with a side of coffee. All the early birds who helped set up were welcomed this way, and it was one of the many perks of working somewhere small. Finishing your breakfast up, you washed your dishes before helping the rest of the staff with setting up. Napkins needed to be placed, forks shined and coffee warmed.

By 6:30 AM, it was open for business, and it was mere minutes before the first patron walked through the door. It was James, a regular who spent his mornings at the cafe before heading off to a late afternoon job. Getting to know your regulars wasn't all that unusual, and James was just one of many people you knew from work.

As usual, James looked tired. Today though, he looked especially so. You approached him with a menu and that good-old customer service smile. "Good morning!"

"Morning," James said with a tired grin. "Am I your first customer of the day?"

You chuckled and held his menu out for him, which he took. "As usual. How’s work?"

"Eh," he shrugged as he looked over his options. "I've switched to a later shift, so I'm adjusting to a new schedule. This might be the last time I'm able to come in this early."

As he was speaking, another patron walked through the door and was seated in your section. You gave James an apologetic smile. "Well, you just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Do you have to go?" he asked with mild disappointment. At your nod, he sighed and handed back his menu. "Well, I'll get my usual then. I don't know why you always bring me a menu."

"You never know when you want to try something new," you said before writing down his order and leaving his table. Your next table wasn't a regular, but the one after that was. It was Mary and John, an elderly couple who had been going to the restaurant since it opened 30 previous.

They greeted you before you got a chance to greet them. "Ah, there's our favorite server!" Mary said with a wide smile. She was in her 70s and her thin hair was short and curly, the color of fine spider silk. She had a very grandmotherly vibe about her.

"We were afraid you wouldn't be working today," John added after a moment, gaining a glare from his wife. He always wore suspenders with a bow tie and used a cane to get around. Sometimes he would tell you crazy and outlandish stories and asked you if you thought they were real or not. Mary and John had lived a pretty crazy life, so you always had a hard time distinguishing truth from tales.

You set their menus in front of them and put down the waters you got as well. They never got any drink besides water. "I always work today."

John shook his head as he picked up his menu. "You never know when something might change." You left for a moment to bring another customer her coffee, before returning to take their orders. It was still pretty slow, so you paid rapt attention to John as he handed his menu back to you. "Have I ever told you about the time I wrestled with a crocodile?"

Mary let out a frustrated groan. "Not this one again. It was an alligator, John, not a crocodile."

"They're essentially the same," John insisted.

"No, they aren't," Mary pushed right back.

As it turns out, they aren't the same. Mary gave a very interesting, in-depth description of both, describing the differences. You only caught the fringes of the conversation of course, for a Monday it was pretty busy, but they were gone by 11, bickering all the way out the door. Another one of your regulars, Jerry, came in around that time. He was a tall, willowy college student who didn't like to take showers and spent his entire life studying. Poor guy was about halfway to a mental institution with how stressed he was, but he was always pleasant when he interacted with you.

"What're you studying for today Jerry?" you questioned as you placed a pot of coffee before him. He always got the same thing, a pot of coffee and a pastry that changed on the daily.

Jerry always came in with a textbook or two, reading the carefully kept pages between gulps of coffee and nibbles of food. Today it was what looked like a math book, though you couldn't tell which as he already had it flipped to the middle. "Calc 2. I have a test at the end of the week and I want to be prepared."

"I'm sure you'll do fine hun," you said affectionately. Mothering Jerry was one of your favorite pastimes, and he didn't seem to mind. "Anyways, what'll it be today?"

"Do you have anything with strawberries?"Jerry asked without looking up.

You tapped your chin. "We do have a new strawberry tart. I had one this morning and it was really good."

Jerry finally looked up from his textbook with a hesitant smile. "Can I have that one please?"

"'course you can," you said, writing down his order. "You can have anything you want dear."

The rest of the day went as such and, as usual, you left five minutes before closing. The owners never made early birds close, as they already helped with setting everything up. After bidding goodbye to both Jerry and James, both of which were still finishing up, you made your way to your car in relative silence. The parking lot was half full of cars, though there were no people in sight. Most must have still been in the building.

There was a slight, unexpected breeze that sent a shiver down your spine, and you closed your coat further around you to combat the cold. The changing of the seasons left the weather in an odd, in-between state that could be annoying on occasion.

As you approached your car, you noticed something strange placed right in front of your windshield. It was small and ivory in color. Approaching further, an odd feeling touched just the fringes of your consciousness. The feeling was primal and unidentifiable at the time, though later you would identify it as the feeling of being observed. Watched. As if a pair of eyes were piercing your very soul from somewhere out of sight.

That was when you saw it, and the emptiness of the parking lot only made your gasp sound louder. On the hood of your car was the skull of a rodent. Most likely a rat or a mouse based on size and shape. It was pointed toward you, a position that made it appear as if it were staring right through you.

You shuttered.

In an attempt to not touch it, you knocked it off with your bag, sending it flying somewhere else in the parking lot. Creeped out as you were, you checked the entirety of the vehicle before getting in, finding nothing else out of place or unusual. It must have been some neighborhood punks idea of a joke. Or a stray cat. Laughing at your own discomfort over something so tiny, you pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

With a little hum, you set your phone on your dash and prompted it to call Papyrus.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Friend! I am glad that you called. Are you on your way over now?" the tall, endearing skeleton questioned over the phone.

You nodded before you realized he couldn't see you. "Uh, yeah. I just got off work." In your rearview mirror, you saw a black jeep tailgating you. Having no tolerance for annoying drivers, you brake checked them before continuing your conversation. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Well-" someone was shouting in the background, though you couldn't make out the voice. "I think we're going to have to cancel today. Sans had a bit of an accident-"

Your heart stopped. "Is he okay?!"

Papyrus made an annoyed sound. "He is but our friendship spaghetti isn't! It startled me so bad that I spilled it all over the ceiling!"

Once again you had to break check the jeep. Finally, he seemed to get the message though, gunning it around you and down the block. The car moved so quickly that you couldn’t see exactly who was driving it, but the glare of the driver made your hackles rise. You sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that Papyrus. We can't hang out then?"

"No-here, talk to the perpetration himself!" There was a slight scuffle on his end of the phone.

"hello?" Sans sounded tired and stressed.

You turned onto your street. "Hey. Papyrus says I can't come over because there was an accident."

Sans sighed and you could see in your mind's eye his shoulders sagging. "yeah. everything's fine though. maybe you can come over sometime next week? the house should be okay by then."

"Yeah, that'd be fine," you agreed. As you talked you pulled into your spot in the apartment building's parking lot. "I've gotta let you go, but, um, stay safe, okay?"

"heh, you too bud."

The line went dead and you stuck the phone back into your pocket. There went your afternoon plans. With a sigh you exited your vehicle before heading to the entrance to the building, or, you would have if there wasn't a flock of crows in the way.

"Wait, no, not flock," you murmured, trying to shoo them away. The birds were stubborn however and just hopped around your feet as you tried to get to the door. Some even cawed at you, as if you were the one bothering them. You paused halfway there and snapped your fingers. "A murder. A flock of crows is called a murder."

As if cued by your words the crows took off, one catching in your hair as it flew away to a nearby telephone wire, now cawing louder as if taunting you. Huffing, you made your way to the door and opened it easily. You supposed there was originally a lock to the building entrance, but the door was easily opened just by twisting the handle the right way. It was pretty rusty, and old, so you couldn’t expect much.

Your apartment was on the first floor, so in no time at all, you got to your tiny home and shut the door behind you. After dropping your bag by the door you slipped off your shoes and collapsed on your small couch. Everything about your apartment was small, which was fine seeing as you lived by yourself. Living on the first floor, you invested in blinds and curtains early, knowing how creepy some people could be. Said protections were wide open, however, as they always were during the day.

Looking toward your window, you made eye contact with your cat. Wednesday, as you so aptly dubbed her, was a very particular feline. She was gorgeous with her slim agile body and thick, black coat, but she was very finicky when it came to affection. You were only really 'allowed' to pet her when she requested it, otherwise, she would nip at your hand and attack you with her paws.

You, of course, ignored her obvious distaste.

"Hello Wednesday, aren't you looking purrdy this afternoon," you called from the couch, chuckling at your own pun. Wednesday did not look impressed. "Aw come here Wednesday," you made some kissy noises while patting your legs. "Here Wednesday!"

The cat did not move.

Groaning, you got up and approached the sprawled out, sunbathing feline. She stared at you with obvious displeasure as you scooped her up into your arms. Using one arm to hold her, you used the other to pet her soft tummy, an action that lead to her biting your hand and you dropping her. "Ow, fine, I don't like you anyway."

With a sulky look on your face, you returned to the couch and turned on the TV. The screen flickered for a moment before turning on properly. After flipping through the channels for a bit, you landed on a show that you could tolerate and immediately got out your phone to scroll through your social media accounts. Then your stomach growled. Yes, lunch was in order.

Just as you were about to get up to make a sandwich or something, a knock on the door startled you. Had Papyrus changed his mind?

Getting up, you approached the door and looked through the peephole, something you would be eternally grateful for. To your surprise, there wasn't anyone there. You did a double take before opening the door and looking around for the perpetrator. Some of the kids in the apartment could be brats, and you wouldn't put it past them to prank you.

You were about to step back into your apartment when you noticed something at your feet. It was a large jar of strawberry jam, with a neat little bow wrapped around the top. Curious. After picking it up, you discovered nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it appeared to be the very same kind you occasionally got at your local grocery store. Thinking the gift to be a show of neighborly friendliness, you shrugged and reentered your apartment, setting the jam on a shelf to be forgotten.

Later that night you were about to go to bed when suddenly Wednesday jumped from her place on the window and rushed into the room, growling lowly. This was very unusual behavior for your quiet pet, so you approached the now closed window with more than a little trepidation. Taking a breath, you peeked through the blinds to see… nothing besides the darkness blanketing the lot. The parking lot lay empty besides a few cars, and there was not a soul to be seen. You got that feeling again, that itching under your skin, but you shook it off so as to not psych yourself out before bed.

Still, you could not shake the feeling that you were missing something, so you double checked all the locks before going to bed, a very grumpy Wednesday joining you.

Knock.

You sat up in your bed, startled and cotton-headed.

Knock Knock.

There was someone at the door.

Knock Knock Knock.

Groaning, you turned over to look at your alarm clock, and your eyes widened when you saw what time it was.

3 AM. Who on earth would call on you at 3 AM?

On unsteady feet you stood from your bed and slipped on the robe you kept hanging near your closet. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Wednesday darting under the bed with a hiss and a growl. Putting your cat out of your mind, you crept down your short, dark hall to your front door and paused.

Still groggy, you looked through the peephole.

There was no one there.

Maybe you were just dreaming? Regardless, you checked the locks once more before going back to bed, sleeping fitfully until morning.

#undertale #reader insert #spooktober #thriller #fanfiction #skullwrites #papyrus #sans #reader

5 notes · View notes

demon-animatronic · 7 years

Text

He’s a Monster....Does it Matter? Chapter 6

Finally got to writing this chapter! I decided I’ll post the summary every couple of chapters.

Notes: OCxCrowley....I guess that’s it. Other then this is a pretty long chapter.

Summary: Crowley deserved to be loved so he will in this fic. One night, Crowley and Lexi meet at a bar. She's weary of him at first and keeps her guard up. But the more she talks to him, the more she sees similarities between them. Not to mention the fact that she felt herself falling for him. And she was falling hard.

Soon, they become close friends and maybe something more. Something they both needed in their lives. The downside to it all? She doesn't know he's a demon & he doesn't know she's a hunter. When they do find out about each other's secret life, no one wants them to be together anymore. Things become weird at first. but they soon learn to deal with it. Besides, everything will be fine, right?

Enjoy!

Chapter 6 - Friday Night Fun

Yet again, I’m home alone while Faith and Kevin are off at dinner and spending some alone time together. in the meantime, I decided to sit back and play some video games in my room.

As I was just starting to get into my favorite game, (Note: Think about Halo for Xbox because that’s pretty much the type of game I’m going for.) I thought I heard knocking coming from somewhere.

“Hm? You guys hear anything?” I took out one ear bud and looked at the pets that didn’t seem to hear anything. “…Guess not.”

Just when I started to put it back it, the doorbell rung cause Coco to run out of the room barking.

“Wonder who that could be?” I asked myself, keeping my game paused and turning my music player off.

The doorbell rung again as I got to my feet so I grabbed my phone and rushed downstairs to the front door. Coco was barking up a storm so I picked her up in my arms and looked out the window.

To my surprise, it was Crowley. It’s been a while since the last time I had seen him so I was confused and surprised to see it was him.

Putting my phone in my pocket, I then opened the door, keeping Coco in my arms. Crowley smiled when I finally answered.

“Hello, Lexi.” Crowley said.

“Hi.” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“Just dropping by to say hi. Are your friends home?” He asked.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m home alone.”

“That’s excluding this darling old pup.” Crowley reached forward and started petting Coco, whom enjoyed it.

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “And a few cats upstairs.”

“Can I come in?” Crowley decided to ask.

‘Meh….fuck it.’ I thought to myself with a shrug and stepped back, letting him inside.

“Where’d the other two go?” Crowley questioned, shutting the door for me.

“Dinner.” I replied, putting Coco down.

“Without you?” He asked.

“They’re bringing me something home. It was just a date between them.”

“Ah. We should go on a double date sometime.” He smirked.

“Yeah we should.” I replied without skipping a beat. “But that’ll have to wait for another night.”

“So what were you doing before I came?” Crowley asked.

“Playing video games in my room.” I said.

“Well, would you like to go out for some fun?” He asked curiously.

“What did you have in mind?” I raised a eyebrow.

“Why don’t we pay your friends a surprise visit?” He suggested. “Won’t be a official double date but it’ll be close enough for the time being. Then maybe we can do something afterwards.”

“Hmm…” I hummed, thinking about it. “…Okay. Why not?”

I don’t feel like he’s going to hurt me anymore so why not go out into the town and have some fun? It is a Friday night after all.

“I just need to go get ready.” I added.

“Fine by me.” He nodded and started heading towards the living room. “I’ll wait here until then.”

“Alright.” I nodded back and headed upstairs.

I did feel a little uncomfortable leaving him alone downstairs but Coco was still with him so I only hoped she knew what she was doing since she didn’t seem afraid or suspicious of him.

Once in my room, I saved my game and turned it and the TV off before finding a nice shirt and flannel since I know they didn’t go anywhere too expensive and fancy. Plus we might do something afterward anyway.

After getting changed, brushing my teeth and hair, and anything else I needed to do, I grabbed my purse, put my phone in it, and rushed downstairs a little too fast than I care to admit.

“That was quick.” Crowley got up as I came down and saw I was wearing a black shirt with a green flannel over it. “You truly remind me of certain people that I know.”

“Why? Because I have endless flannel?” I asked in a snarky tone as I put my tennis shoes on and took my keys out of my purse.

“Ah, so it’s going to be a night full of snark, yeah?” He asked with a smile.

“Battle of the snark? Sounds good to me.” I chuckled.

“Well, while you finish with that, I’ll turn the lights off down here.” Crowley said as I was finishing tying my shoes.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” He replied and went to do it. “Does Coco need to be in a cage?”

“Nah, she’ll be fine.” I said, standing up straight. “We just can’t let her bolt out the door.”

Crowley nodded understandingly as he came over to where I was after turning the lights off.

I patted my hips and realized I almost forgot my gun.

“One second.” I said and rushed back upstairs.

Once it and the holster was on my hip, I double-checked to make sure my permit for it was in my purse still and then headed back down.

“Didn’t want to leave without it?” He motioned with his head to my hip.

“Never know.” I shrugged and he shrugged back.

“Ready now?” He asked and I nodded happily. “Come on.”

Crowley opened the door and came out behind me, giving me a few seconds to lock the place up.

“Hey, how are we getting-” I started after I put my keys in my purse and was just about to turn around to face him. “-Here.”

My eyes widened when we were outside the steakhouse that I never even told him about. I glanced over to where he was standing, eyeing him suspiciously with a frown.

‘So that theory of him being some sort of monster was correct.’ I thought to myself right as he gave me a look.

“I’m not a…monster…” He said, reading my mind and I stared at him in a questioningly way. “It’s hard to explain, but you have nothing to fear, Lexi.”

“Are you sure about that?” I asked, almost quietly and he nodded.

“I swear.” Crowley responded also somewhat quietly. “Let’s just have a good time, alright?”

“…Okay.” I said, starting to feel bothered.

“Come on, darling.” He took a few steps forward and I followed behind him, keeping a short distance between us.

‘Fuck….what if he bugged the downstairs? Or did something? Him being able to teleport explains how he can easily find me…’ I thought to myself as we walked inside.

I took a deep breath and tried to relax myself, knowing how tensed I looked to everyone else.

“Hi.” I greeted the hostess.

“Hi.” She greeted back. “Table for two?”

“Actually, we’re here to surprise my two friends. They arrived about 10-20 minutes ago under the name Faith or Kevin.” I replied.

“Ah here they are.” She smiled as she found their name. “Would you like to sit with them? I believe they were seated in a booth so there’s room for the two of you.”

“Sure. Thank you.” I grinned.

“Okay. Give me a few seconds and I’ll have a waitress show you the way.” She said and I nodded, stepping back towards Crowley but keeping that distance.

“Right this way.” Another girl with two menus said and led us to them.

Once I saw them, knowing they didn’t see me, I made a beeline to them.

“Boo!” I quickly sat down next to Faith and giggled when she got scared, suddenly feeling relaxed since she was with me again. “Ha! You should’ve seen your face!”

“What are you doing here?!” She began to laugh too, Kevin was already laughing.

“Was bored so Crowley and I decided to join you.” I said, nodding to him.

“Hello.” He said as he and the waitress caught up.

“Oh well… we already ordered.” Faith said.

“Actually, I don’t think the kitchen started on your orders yet so I can add theirs and you’ll get it all at once.” The waitress replied.

“Oh okay.” Faith shrugged. “Join the party, I guess. Here, why don’t I sit with Kevin and you two sit here?”

I nodded with a nervous smile and got up so she can move.

“Separate checks?” The waitress asked, handing us menus once we were situated.

“All on one. I’ll take care of it.” Crowley replied, glancing to me.

“Thanks…” I said.

“Yeah, thanks man!” Kevin added.

“You’re welcome.” Crowley nodded.

“Drinks?” She asked.

“Whiskey.” Crowley said immediately.

“This large and what looks to be a strong drink sounds good.” I pointed to a little menu on the table.

“Did you forget we’re suppose to go out later after here?” Crowley asked, worried he may have just screwed over the one friendship he was starting to finally have.

I shrugged.

“Oh! The county fair is going on. We should go there after here!” Faith suggested and I looked at Crowley.

“Good for you?” I asked, feeling some sass still inside me. “Or don’t you want to get your expensive suit dirty?”

“Fine by me, love.” Crowley replied, quickly.

“Okay.” I turned from him to Faith “I guess that’s the plan.” I then looked back to the waitress. “Just a normal beer for me.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back for your orders.” The waitress said,

“So what made you decide to join us?” Kevin asked.

“Felt like crashing your night.” I said without thinking, then smirked at my own sudden response.

“Apparently she’s full of snark tonight too.” Crowley added, smirking as well and Faith giggled.

“Sounds like it.” She said, noticing my shoulders tensed when Crowley put a arm behind me, knowing that I had since relaxed around him before.

----- after dinner because I’m lazy -----

“How did you guys get here?” Faith asked as we walked out of the restaurant sometime later.

“My car.” Crowley lied than started patting his pants. “Oh. I think I left my wallet inside. Lexi, be a dear and come help me find it. Why don’t you two head to the fair and we’ll meet you there.” He suggested.

“Okay. We’ll catch up there.” I said, noticing Faith’s look.

“Are you sure?” She asked and I nodded. “Okay.”

I followed Crowley inside and back to our table.

“I know you’re lying about your wallet.” I said once we reached it.

“I know you do.” Crowley said, turning to me. “Just had to get them away before…” He trailed off, when I frowned.

“You aren’t…not in here.” I muttered.

“Why would I do that in here?” He whispered back, and looked out the window, seeing them exit the parking lot. “Come on, Lexipup.”

I once again followed behind him as we exited the building and walked behind it.

“Okay. We shouldn’t be seen here.” Crowley said, stopping.

“How can you teleport?” I found myself asking.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked, slowly coming up to where I stopped a few feet away.

“I do but I also don’t….” I frowned, not looking at him but keeping my right hand near my gun.

“Why don’t you want to know?” Crowley asked.

“I don’t know….I guess… I was finally starting to trust you but I feel like I shouldn’t now.” Crowley frowned when I said that.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He replied after a moment. “You can still trust me. I swear I won’t hurt you. I have really enjoyed your company and didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“You haven’t…yet.” My left hand rubbed my right arm, still hovering by my gun on my hip. “Will you tell me what you are?” I finally looked at him.

“I can’t.” He finally said, now looking away from me. “It’ll ruin everything. Just trust me, okay? Nothing bad will ever happen to you. You‘re my friend, aren‘t you?” Crowley glanced back to me.

After thinking about it for a moment, I nodded.

“Yeah. I’m just not sure if I can trust you anymore.” I replied. “You gotta understand something….happened and now I can’t trust people so easily. Especially with a chance of them being a monster.”

“What?” He stared at me when I said the last word.

“What?” I asked.

“What did you just say?” Crowley asked.

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Can we get going now? Please?”

Crowley looked down for a moment and nodded his head in agreement. Sooner we ended the conversation the better the night would hopefully be.

Before I knew it, we were outside of the fair and decided to sit on a bench and wait for Faith and Kevin to come.

“Lexi,” Crowley started suddenly.

“Hm?” I hummed, just staring out into the parking lot.

“Were you…ever in a bad relationship and that’s why you said ‘monster’?” He decided to ask, thinking I surely didn’t know about actual monsters but didn’t want to invade my privacy and risk ruining things further by tapping my forehead and finding out himself.

“No but I had a ex-friend that caused me all sorts of trust issues.” I replied, lying.

“Ah.” He went.

“Plus, since you won’t tell me what you are, I don’t really know what else to call you after…yah know.” I added.

“Ah.” Crowley went again. “Look, I’ll cure your curiosity one day. Let’s just enjoy tonight for what it is.”

“Fine by me.” I agreed. “Just promise me one thing.”

“….I can’t promise a lot of things…” He admitted.

My frowned deepened as I watched the cars.

“….So you can’t promise me that you aren’t a bad guy just manipulating a young mind and possibly tricking me?” I say quietly.

“…I already told you I won’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear.” Crowley responded. “Do you feel safe around me?”

“That didn‘t answer my question.” I replied, avoiding his eyesight.

“I‘m….no. I‘m not a bad guy. Just someone looking for a new friend and I could tell that night in the bar you were looking for one too.” He said.

“I suppose so.” I said and shook my head. “Okay. Let’s drop this. I’m not sure how I feel about you being able to teleport but let’s just enjoy this night and hopefully forget about this conversation.”

‘Fat chance of that happening.’ I thought to myself. ‘There’s no way I’m letting my guard down…even if I do still have a crush on him…now I’m glad I was never in a relationship. This shit is hard to deal with.’

“You can say that again.” Crowley chucked.

“What?” I finally looked at him.

“Ah. Finally got you to look at me.” He smiled slightly.

“I guess so.” I gave a small smile back.

I looked away and took a deep breath, relaxing myself and making it so my shoulders weren’t tense anymore.

We sat in silence for the following 10 or so minutes until we saw Kevin and Faith park and come up to us.

“You got here fast.” Faith said. “You beat us here.”

“What can I say, he’s a speed demon.” I smiled and I could tell Crowley was smirking beside me when we stood up.

‘Only I hope he isn’t a actual demon.’ I thought to myself.

“Well, let’s head inside.” Kevin said and we walked over to the ticket booth.

Crowley was about to get his wallet out when Kevin stopped him.

“Here, let us pay for you since you paid for our dinner.” Kevin said.

“Thanks.” Crowley said, partially surprised.

Kevin nodded as we paid for our tickets and headed inside. On the way in, I grabbed a schedule that mentioned the music acts and other things like fireworks.

“Hey, there’s fireworks going off tonight.” I said as I walked with it in my hands before we stopped to talk.

“What should we do until then?” Faith asked and I shrugged.

“I don’t care.” I replied. “Nothing really to do other than walk around until we’re bored, eat even though we already did, check out the animals, and play some games and win some prizes.”

“Why don’t we get some desert? Then we can walk all that junk off by looking at animals.” She suggested.

“Fine by me.” I said and looked at the guys who nodded.

“Guess that’s what we’re doing.” Faith said and we started walking towards the food.

On the way, I rolled up the schedule and put it in my purse.

---- Later ----

A few hours later, we were now laying down on a hill a little outside of the fair, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

Over the course of those few hours we mainly walked around, enjoying the fresh air and walking off the fried deserts that we had along with the ice-cream we later got too.

Even before the fireworks we were mostly silent. I think all four of us was enjoying the silence and just stargazing until the fireworks started.

Later when it was over, I decided to just go home with Faith and Kevin so Crowley walked with us to their car.

“Have a good night.” Crowley said as we reached it.

“Thanks. You too.” I said, turning to him.

“Bye, Crowley.” Faith waved and he gave a small wave back before turning and walking away.

I leaned back on the car as I watched him walk away and sighed.

“Fun night, huh?” Faith asked, next to me.

“You can say that.” I replied, closing my eyes.

“What’s wrong? You seemed nervous and tense around him all night.” She questioned.

“I’ll tell you in the car.” I opened my eyes and the back door.

“Okay…?” She said, confused and did the same with the driver’s door.

As soon as we were all buckled in, she started the car and got into the line of traffic so we can go home.

“We’ll be here for a while so what happened?” Faith asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

My head was resting on the window and I was looking out into the night sky before I turned towards her.

“He’s…something.” I muttered.

“I know he is. Go for him already!” She urged but I shook my head.

“Not what I meant.” I replied.

“What could you have meant?” Kevin asked.

“He….disappeared…teleported….with me…” I said, unsure as to how I should put it.

“He…what?” Faith asked, not hearing me since I spoke quietly.

“Teleported.” I stated. “When I said he’s ‘something’ I meant he’s definitely something.”

“Oh…” Faith said, understanding now. “What do you think he is?”

“The only thing I can think of is a demon. But why would a demon go around making friends unless he’s that bored?” I asked.

“Or…maybe he knows we’re hunters so he’s trying to manipulate you.” Faith said.

“I don’t think he knows we’re hunters. If he does, he hasn’t said anything or shown that he knows. But he did say that I can trust him and don’t have to be afraid of him.” I huffed. “I don’t know…my brain says stop seeing him but my heart says otherwise.”

“What about your hunter instincts?” Kevin asked.

“They’re saying to watch my back and be careful but still see him.” I said.

“Then do that until you know for sure what he is and if he’s lying.” Faith said and I just closed my eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

#Supernatural #Crowley #King of Hell #Mark Sheppard #Fanfiction

5 notes · View notes