#watching Wille do that to Simon felt like being shot in the heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsignvenomcod · 4 months

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baby boy

Prompt: Reader's Simon childhood love from Manchester. Or Simon's past catches up with him on a random patrol day.

One shot based on the song "Baby boy" by Childish Gambino.

warnings: parent abandonment, age gap couple.

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It was an agreement.

It was a civil agreement made between two responsible adults in the best benefit of a third party. It was supposed to be easy, the best way to come to terms with it, but as he was going to learn later in life, nothing came easy for Simon Riley. Or anyone unlucky or dumb enough to stick around with him.

He secretly always imagined how it would be like to see her again. It was a pleasure he reserved for lonely nights, for really long desert crawls, for the frail moments, suspended in air, between standing at the edge of a helicopter door and the decisive jump. He always imagined alternative universes in which he actually had a lucky star, in which he actually had a chance at life, at happiness, at being domestic, nothing but a fat house cat.

Simon met the girl in the butcher shop. He took the first job he could get his hands on. It wasn't bad. Not bad, bad.

Where else? Girls like her didn't walk around his side of town, but they all had to eat; and cutting up carnage and splashing around blood, that he could do. She walked into the Butcher's, making the little bell on top of the door ding, and Simon knew, with as much certain that he knew that one day he would die, that his life had changed forever.

He was scarred but the light inside him still worked. Simon had skeletons in his closet, but he was doing such a good job at keeping them at bay. When she walked into the butcher's, fivers in her hand, Simon could stand up straight, could spare a few small smiles, could keep the voices in his mind at peace, for the brief interactions, the shared smiles and pleasantries, the "What's your name?", "You from around?" and "What time you get off?", the way the girl tried so very hard to divert her gaze from the blood stained apron.

It led to so much more. She worked half time at a chippy, and they did good. They did really good for a couple conformed by a Manchester alley kid and the fucking angel that she was. He was in love, and therefore he was in trouble, because no one was around to teach him how to deal with a swollen heart about to burst; and with an outside world that was made of needles and pins.

He liked the way her smile tilted up whenever she was directing it to him, the way she would sit down at a stool in the butcher's, waiting for him to get off shift, just so he could walk her home. Liked the way her skin felt under his rugged hands, how soaked she would get through grey panties, how he drank her saliva right off her lips and how she whispered how much she loved him, actually, truly, loved him, while he was trying his best not to cum in his pants, short breath, in the living room of her house, while her mother was upstairs watching Channel 4, willing to overlook the fact that Simon was a bit (or a lot) older than her daughter because she had never seen her so happy.

And they loved each other. He can say it; it doesn't hurt, doesn't embarrass him either; if anything, he feels unusually lucky his nostalgia makes him wonder at nights, patrolling the barracks or in this case, a small English city, with so many men and women who looked like the people he grew up with.

Then 9/11 happened, and it was too big to ignore, too big to drink away, and she cried when saying goodbye to him on the train station on his way to join, and she knew deep down inside her that Simon Riley was not the kind of man that would turn around to give her one last glance before disappearing into the military for a few months. It was a higher calling, something bigger than him, a reason to get away, from his childhood home that was wrecking, from his father, from something hungry that lived inside of him and was getting out of control.

She called him the minute she way Tommy starting to get bad. She was younger, younger than Tommy even and had reached out to a cabin to dial the number he gave her "for emergencies only", and she told him how Tommy had been stealing from their mum, stumbling around alleys with the wrong crowd, leaving Beth a crying mess in her room, looking too much like Daddy.

That's when he came back. Took a train in the January rain and fixed his whole house up. Picked up his mum from the hoarder state she was in, kicked common sense into his baby brother and simultaneously kicked his old man out. Never to be seen again.

Y/N's watched from the courtside every moment; watched as Simon cleaned up vomit from Tommy's chin, while Beth's belly swollen with a baby, and she cooked porridge while Simon allowed his mum to cry on his chest for hours and hours, victim of the detox, of the night horrors, and herself. All of them became the new Riley's in a way, and she stopped going home to her mother, just crashing at Simon's twin size mattress, in his childhood bedroom that still had the Man U posters on the walls and a beaten-up Walkman CD player.

-I couldn't do this without you...- Simon had whispered after a particularly difficult night that involved Tommy screaming and Beth threatening to throw herself off the stairs. They were lying in bed in their underwear, cozied up together, warm limbs and tangled sheets, staring at the fading glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. She turned on her side, staring at his nose drawn by the shadows. His warm, yet tired eyes, looked back at her and they shared a sorry excuse of a smile before they could share a kiss.

They were in the shit, and the girl on his too small bed was in it for the laughs of it, for a chance to sleep by his side. For that thing they called love.

Winter arrived. The house was freezing still, but they could afford heating now. Now Tommy was paid up for, and he was a butcher at the groceries, and Beth stayed home with Mum and Jacob, the baby. He was skinny for a newborn, the doctors said, but he will catch up with breastfeeding. Simon was a best man at the wedding, but he didn't give a speech. Y/N's was maid of honor, but only because Beth had no other friends. The photos never lie, and you can see Simon with the longest hair he's ever had, in a fitted suit, stern look, a girl clinging from his arm, a baby brother hugging him, a mother with crinkles, a sister-in-law elegantly 9 months pregnant in a wedding dress.

For a moment it was nice, and the future was looking bright. He got a taste of what life could have been like if the stars would have been kind to them. He would wake up early to jog and would see the back of Tommy's head while he left for work, and almost every day his mum would be up, carrying around Jacob in a bathrobe. Beth would cook breakkie and Y/N's would always ask him if he wanted red or brown sauce even if she knew that he wanted brown.

It could have been...good. Great, even. But instead of that it was real life.

He left for Ukraine a few days after he learned she was pregnant with his child; and he thanked every damn God or Goddess he knew of when he learned that everyone was dead except her; her mum falling ill and asking her to take care of her in her childhood house. The blood didn't reach her; she still didn't pay for loving Simon. He became radioactive after that and closed his ears to any plea, to any love confession and promise of safety. He wanted her to hate him, to want him away, he wanted her to have an abortion, she wanted a baby. A baby with him. His baby.

"A part of me and you", she said, "something ours. Untouchable."

But they weren't untouchable, were they? He had scars for days to prove it, coffins, even a child size one, night horrors, a medal, had proof every time he closed his eyes, had nightmares about how many people had touched him and everyone near him. It was a no brainer.

When Price told 141 about this patrolling mission, he would be lying if he said that a shiver ran down his spine and he heard bells for a couple of minutes before forcing himself to come back to the briefing reunion. There was always a chance.

While everyone thought that Ghost would be at least thrilled at the prospect of going back to the UK, Price kept a close eye on him. He knew he was only a few years older than Simon, and his boss as well, but they had seen hell together and survived it. The captain cared for his team, cared, weather he wanted to admit it or not.

Truth was that he wanted to say he knew all about the men he worked with, but that would be a lie, a lie every captain said once in a while. He knew, for example, that Johnny "Soap" MacTavish had two older sisters in Fort Augustus, Scotland, Mary and Ava. He knew Roach had a horrible fear of clowns for some accident in a party all those years ago, Nikolai, Yuri, he had facts about them too.

He knew, for example, that somewhere in England, Ghost had a kid. A baby boy.

Every month, a generous amount of his paycheck went to a throwaway account in the Bank of England, more than half. And he had listed a minor for healthcare and schooling, housing military benefits, The name was Alfie Riley, listed as Alfie Smith; and he was 6 years old.

Simon knew he knew. He trusted that upon him, not out of pure friendship or companionship, but maybe with a hint of letting him know that if it leaked, he had no problem into taking the business into his own hands. There was only so much you could stretch a person without breaking it, and if anything happened to the boy, Price knew it would be Simon's point of no return. A monster would be born or rather, let out of the cage.

Sometimes he thought about it while staring at him on a briefing. Sometimes he tried not to.

-Right. The intel we have on this cell comes from the right source. Our man says this human trafficking cell operates within the church compounds. He believes it has something to do with the orphanage...

Captain Price's voice boomed through the briefing room designated in the security house. They had arrived a few days ago, and it looked as if the whole city of Salisbury took a deep breath at the presence of military men and women. For sure it was an odd view, big bulky men walking around the country fields, around town, asking questions, smiling, blank faces, new voices and sights; but they knew, at least, the problems the community had been facing, will now come to an end finally. The 141 was going to help with that. They were the good lads.

-So split up, ask around. They know were here. - Price said, staring at Gaz from behind his desk; giving the order and finishing the meeting. Soap and Simon bantered around something as they usually did. He sighed, watching as Simon stared dead in front of him while the younger soldier tried to get inside his head. -Kyle, you're with me. Let Bert and Ernie fetch for themselves. - he sentenced, and that was that.

They were sent to walk around Salisbury. They could see the warmth of people's lives, a few kids crossing the street, a teenager in love, dogs being walked, girls staring at windows with headphones on, daydreaming. It was a life so far from the one they had, from the one they choose when they were too young, that is seemed foreign, alien. Johnny MacTavish smiled at walkers who stared at the vest, or his stupid haircut, whatever that catches their sight first.

Salisbury was a small city, one of the smallest in England, actually, and Simon had never been there before this mission. There was a church in every corner, much like Cornwall, but it lacked the shore and the salt in the water. It was Johnny who did all the talking anyway; what, with being younger, less imponent, with the thick Scottish accent that made everyone pay attention, either to help or to even try to understand what he was saying. Specially since Johnny actually had a face to show, and a friendly one.

Right now, Simon was backup, right now he was deuteragonist.

Simon limits himself to lean against one of the local pastries shop fronts, while Johnny walked inside. He thinks that right now would be a great time to have picked up the habit of smoking, to pass the time, to measure it in cigarettes, but a troubled childhood and several fading little dot scars on his arms remind him how repulsed he was by cigarettes. So, he stares at the road in front of him, at the other shops, at the people that stare back at him because of-fucking-course, he's wearing a skull balaclava, and he's 6'2, and he's a crucial part of the army party that erupted in Salisbury a few days ago, asking questions, taking names.

It takes him a minute or two to realize what's going on. It was an agreement. Part ways, stay in the country to get the benefit, but never let each other know where they were. When Simon died, a letter would arrive, a letter with his dog tags and she will see it fit to know what to do next.

-Fucking hell...- he muttered and sprung up like a slinky. He panicked for a few moments before realizing even if she stared right at him, she couldn't recognize him; she would only see a dirty, dusty skull balaclava and black grease over his eyes.

She would not see Simon, the boy that left her a few years ago, he wouldn't see Simon the man who simply stood there while she was trying to level with him on raising the kid together, to be a family, and she wouldn't see Simon, the man who did what he had to do. Who erased his own face from the world, who spared them both, Y/N's and Alfie, of a life of wondering when they were going to be kidnapped, hurt or killed.

Men like Simon were not meant to have a family, to have people to depend on them, not like this, not this close, because in the blink of an eye, shit would hit the fan and things like Manchester massacre would happen again and again and again. He would be left firing his gun to an empty field with nothing ticking inside his chest. It was better this way.

But nothing could prepare him for this moment. It was a sick joke of destiny, really, to be stationed in one of the smallest cities in England, and for her to be standing right across the street, holding their son in her arms, looking both sides, like a good mum, before letting her white keds touch the pavement.

Alfie was a brunette. It made sense; and if this was lighter, he would roll his eyes and the bowl cut the kid had, which combined with their missing could be a picture-perfect description of a rascal. Except he didn't know a thing about Alfie other that he had been to the doctors twice past month, one to the dentist, one to the medic. Stomachache. 10 pounds for tablets. Simon didn't know if he was a rascal or not, if he had friends or didn't, if he was in trouble at school or not, didn't know his favorite show or his favorite color, what he wanted to be when he grew up. All he knew was that he loved him, it didn't matter that the kid will never hear from him or meet him. Simon loved them enough to remove himself from their lives. To give them a chance that he was denied from the beginning.

His P.O. box said that he got letters once in a while, from different cities in England, and you didn't have to be a genius to figure out who wrote to him. He only ever picked up one, and it was simply a polaroid. It was her, and it was his son, and she was smiling at the camera with very tired eyes, an oversized shirt, and messy hair, and Alfie was on her lap, missing teeth, bowl cut, space shirt, freckled face full of birthday cake. A candle in the shape of the number 6.

Little hands, little feet, tiny heart, tiny beat

It was better this way. He would repeat himself that every morning as soon as he woke up in a barrack, instead of a military housing, alone and cold, instead of next to her and warm with the heat of her body. Sneaking a quick fuck with the love of his life before the kid two doors down woke up.

It was better this way. She would walk right past him, not knowing that the soldier in front of the pastries shop learned every curve in her body, every freckle, the birthmark in her right rib; He would thank his mask once again, and let his eyes wonder at the way she struggled with her bag, with still holding Alfie in her arms, while trying to stay alert.

It was better this way. A grenade will reach him, or the enemy, Ali Baba, a Russian, a Mexican, another Brit, the son or daughter or brother or best friend of someone he fucked up in the past. Cancer, a snake.

A heart failure at 70, a bullet at 41. He would die eventually, and they will give him his dog tags, and he will have a slight discomfort knowing his father died, but that's it. Like learning an actor from your childhood died of age; sad, but irrelevant. The day will go on.

It was better this way. She will fall in love again, with a bank clerk, or a veterinarian or Alfie's football coach. Someone else will teach Alfie how to be a father, will tie his shoelaces, will talk to him about girls, about fist fights, will buy him his first pint. It was better this way; Y/N's will tell him about him someday and he will look for him, or not, he will understand or not, he will hate him, forgive him, love him, in that order, or not.

It was better this way. It was.

There was a time before you, and there will be a time after you. With these vibes or not, walk tall, little man, walk tall.

It was better this way. His breath would get caught up in his throat as he saw Y/N's try to control the child, placing him on the ground, holding his hand while she looked inside her bag for something. And Alfie's blue eyes would wonder his surroundings, piercing his father's heart without knowing so. Simon wouldn't move, Alfie neither, but they would stare at each other for a few seconds before the kid broke out in a smile, tugging at his mother's hand, saying something in a squeaky voice, with a south accent, tiny index finger pointing at Ghost's skull mask. He had his mother's smile, but those eyes were all Simon.

Y/N looked up, finally finding some keys on her bag before returning her attention to the boy latched to her hand and she will also look at Simon without knowing so. The woman would frown for a moment, before giving up a quivering smile, murmuring something to the kid, pulling him to the opposite direction. And for Alfie, that was going to be it. The day went on. The man stood there thinking he couldn't do this with her, he shouldn't, and every attempt to reach out was an attempt against his kin. That there were some people that shouldn't be a father, like his own father, like his father's father.

She turned around a few times, locking eyes with the man in the balaclava before disappearing into the street, mixing up with the people walking by; the coats and the jackets. And Simon gulped down nervous saliva, suddenly needing to lean on the wall a bit more than he wanted to admit.

It was better this way.

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Hello! Venom here.

This is the first time I write for the COD fandom and for Ghost Riley. An absolute menace, I think he is. Please let me know what you think about it and give me a follow if you liked it.

Thank you :)

#simon riley #cod headcanons #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod #x reader #reader insert #dad simon

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thiswontbeforever · 1 year

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What are your three favourite scenes in YR season 2? And why?

And what are the three most beautiful scenes in your opinion (if they are not among your favourite ones)?

hiii ty for sending an ask 🥰🥺

this is truly really difficult because season 2 was so packed but i’ll try to narrow it down. also this is definitely going to be biased towards what i personally loved vs like what were the technical best scenes/best for the plot

i think 3 favorites would be:

3. any of simon writing/singing but particularly the scene where he puts on wille’s sweater & starts to sing & write & then sees himself in the mirror. omar’s acting was absolutely phenomenal & but wrenching & i think it was an incredibly smart & well done scene in every way, even if it was also incredibly painful & led him to messaging marcus again bc it was so amazing to really see what simon was going through & the emotions driving his reactions.

2. wille’s scene that starts with him putting his earbuds in, looking at pics of simon, & then walking out to the lake. i cannot put into words the emotions i felt watching that the first time, with “lonely ones” playing. again, it was an incredible scene to show us wille’s state of mind & genuine loneliness consuming him. again, of course hate what it led to, but that scene was so so so beautiful shot & acted. it truly encompassed a lot of what they had been saying s2 was about & it made me feel & connect with yr just like simon’s scene did.

again, its so hard to narrow it down to 3 bc i loved so many scenes. honestly the first 4 minutes that we got is kind of forgotten about now because we talked about it so heavily when it came out before the show, but edvin acted the f*ck out of those scenes.

also the first ep party scene from the way wille challenges august to simon & wille seeing each other & interacting was truly incredible & absolutely one of my favorites.

the music room fight is another fav. i think simon said exactly what needed to be said & that it encapsulated them being teens going through all of this really well. simon defender to my grave that scene was important & necessary & well done on both omar & edvin’s end.

simon saying “they don’t have names.” was simultaneously iconic & comedic & also gut wrenching & so emotional bc we know what he was remembering, protecting.

1. is a tie. between like 3 scenes. i’m dumping all the wilmon scenes here. ep 4 kiss. i could sit here & talk about this forever. the way wille finally tries to let simon go, to recognize what simon has been telling him & asking for & finally putting aside some of his selfishness, to the look on simon’s face when he realizes what wille is finally granting him is not at all what he wants because it was others’ opinions that might’ve pushed him towards trying to forget when that was just never gonna be an option. to him calling after wille, wille almost not believing he heard right, to the “everything just got so messed up between us” “i know” but it was never what was between them that was wrong or the problem, it was everything around them and they immediately show that with the kiss that is all simon’s choice, wille gives him the lead, and the LOOKS on their faces….incredible. the smiles. it was never them. what they felt and them together before all the stress was always right, always real. the ep 5 scenes had me screaming. “i could be free…free with you” i had to pause bc i was losing my mind. the switch in wille of immediate communication to simon once he found something out was such a good start to him changing some of his ways. simon’s face was just….and to do it in front of rosh & ayub. so important so heart wrenching i was crying. and then the BOOK SCENE. okay book scene may be number one wow so so well written well acted. it is them literally turning a page together, a new chapter of them better understanding and accepting each others’ realities & deciding they want to go on this journey together of figuring out what they want and who they really want to be. and then of course, wille’s panic attack to simon worrying about him to the conversation and then just being honest about how they feel to finally being together again. that scene was so powerful. they have everything they had to each other in case it was the last time & it was the most beautiful mix of love & longing & desperation…of choosing that moment together to take back what they lost and that it might fall apart all over again tomorrow so if this is the last time then we’ll give each other everything. absolutely incredible episode and sequences of scenes. and then the i love you & eps 6 ending. the CHILLS that took over my body with simon pulling wille aside…the i love you…and wille’s speech. not even just him admitting it but him deciding what kind of crown prince he wants to be and calling out the monarchy and traditions, (which i hope leads more to him making an effort to understand the classism & realities simon faces & what else needs to change), the games & power greedy manipulations that keep everything spinning, and choosing love after spending his life raised in an institution that has tried to teach him love is foolish and fleeting and not worth it. yes, it was somewhat cheesy to a certain extent, but it was still powerful and wille taking control over his own narrative & realizing what simon has been trying to convey to him. and that simon deciding he was okay with being a secret was what wille still thought he wanted until he had it because the secrets only caused pain & problems. and love, true love between two people should not be threatened with pain & chaos & scandal because of traditions where the elite only look after the elite…it was an amazing scene to have wille finally stomp on all the lies and the coercion and to not leave simon alone in that any longer. okay this got way longer than i intended and i CLEARLY couldn’t choose just 3 scenes but 😭😂 yeah. i think the most beautiful pretty much overlap here. also simon singing at the ball was of course stunning. i think also wille getting ready for the ball was beautiful in a heartbreaking way. same for the conversation he had with felice in ep4 after tHAT mistake. their friendship >>>> and wille saying he has to let him go.

also one more wilmon power couple eps 6 before shit completely hits the fan was also >>>>>

#young royals #omar rudberg #edvin ryding #simon eriksson #wilhelm #yr s2 #yr s2 spoilers

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scumbagg · 3 years

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NSFT/18+

Space Ghost Coast to Coast

A/N: I purely wrote this as Bell instead of Y/N since I can’t bring myself to write Y/N fics 😂

I recently finished MW2 and needed some Ghost food to heal my broken heart after the traumatic betrayal I witnessed. Also maybe a bit of DadPrice! giving a lecture. Here goes nothing..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Bell

Word count: 3252

Warnings: smut, injury (gunshot), blood, swearing.

“Eyes up, scouts patrolling up ahead.”

Price’s voice in your earpiece came through at the exact moment the two men appeared in your line of vision 40 metres in front of you.

“Dropped him.”

Aiming your sniper, the guard trailing slightly behind fell to the ground before you’d even had time to place your finger on the trigger. Taking aim at the other man’s head, your rifle made almost no sound as you took him out a second later.

“Nice shot. Move up.”

“Thanks.” You whispered back. You turned back for a moment to the place you knew Price was laying hidden almost 90 metres behind you.

“Move, Bell. We won’t have much time before more patrols come along and find those bodies.” Soap’s whispered voice now, also in your earpiece - but you knew he was somewhere to the right of you hidden in the long grass. You crawled quietly through the grass. You heard the brush whispering slightly either side of you as the bodies of Soap and Ghost moved up to flank with you.

“Hold up, two more tangoes patrolling the fence line.” Price murmured a moment later. “Take ‘em out, or let ‘em move on. Your call Bell”

“No stragglers.” You whispered back. You heard the pops from Ghost’s and Soap’s suppressed guns as they took out the two guards ahead.

“Good call.” Price confirmed. “Can’t see anymore inbound. You’re in the clear. House up ahead is empty. We’ll regroup inside.”

“Roger.”

Standing up, you scanned the area out of precaution for more enemies. Satisfied, you nodded to the other two men to move up. The three of you passed the fence line and had almost made it to the back door of the house when it happened.

You heard it before you felt it. The sound of a pistol being fired in your direction had you spinning to face the direction it came from, when suddenly you felt white hot pain erupt in your left shoulder. Dropping to the ground, the sound was over almost as quickly as it started, but your eyesight went black as you squeezed your eyes shut in pain and gripped your shoulder as blood poured through your fingers.

“Bell!” The scream came from within your earpiece at the same time Ghost shouted your name, making your ear throb in pain. You hardly noticed with the burning coming from your shoulder, but you still flinched.

“What the fuck was that?!” You gritted through your teeth.

“One of the guards back there wasn’t as dead as we thought. He fucking is now. Don’t worry darlin’, you’re gonna be alright.” Ghost pried your hand away from your shoulder and replace them with his own. “Soap, get me the medi-kit from your pack, quick!”

“Darlin’?!” Soap laughed as he handed Ghost the pack. Frowning, he looked down at the two of you.

“He’s taking the piss.. it’s an inside joke.. had to be there.” You said through gritted teeth, glaring into Ghost’s glasses. Ghost said nothing as he worked on stopping the bleeding, but the minimal supplies in the kit weren’t doing much.

“Fuck!” Ghost said in a panicked voice. You were starting to feel drowsy, and the sight of all the blood was making you queasy. You could feel your head starting to spin, threatening to send you into unconsciousness.

“Ghost, she’s gonna be fine. Look, the bullet went straight through.” Soap said calmly, pointing at the bullet lodged in the brick in the wall just behind where you’d been standing. “It’s a clean wound, it’ll just need stitches.”

“Fine. We’ve gotta get her back ASAP. I’ll take her, you and Price grab the intel.”

“No, I’ll take her.” Price came into view, rifle slung over his back. “You’re the one that’s better with technology, you’ll get the intel quicker from the computer. Someone’s bound to have heard those gunshots, we’re sure to have company soon. C’mon Bell.” Price hoisted you up under your uninjured arm, replacing Ghost’s hands with one of his. Stumbling, you gripped Price’s arm for support. Looking over at Ghost, you noticed his eyes tighten behind his sunglasses, but he nodded in assent.

“Let’s get moving,” Price commanded, nodding at the other two. “Soap, Ghost, I’ll send for another chopper to pick you up. See you boys at home.”

*****

Fourteen stitches and a bandaged shoulder later, the infirmary staff finally let you leave. Pushing open the exit door to the outside, you found Price leaning against a jeep waiting for you.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked suspiciously.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home. It’s a bit of a far walk and I assumed you’d be too hopped up on pain killers to drive yourself.” He replied, opening the passenger door courteously.

“Oh… thanks.” You said, taken aback by the display of kindness. It’s not that Captain Price was unkind; he’d just never shown any outward kindness outside of the field. You were surprised that he’d thought to even come back for you.

The two of you drove in silence for a few moments, before the question you were burning to ask broke its way out of your control.

“Did the other two make it back okay?” You tried to sound casual, but your insides were turning with worry.

“Yeah, they got back about an hour ago, no issues.” Price answered, concentrating on the road.

“And the intel?”

‘Acquired.” Price gruffed.

“Hmm, very good.” You stared straight ahead, watching the sun settle in the west. This was the first time in a non-formal environment you’d ever spent a moment alone with the Captain, and you weren’t sure how to make small talk with him. You sat in silence as Price drove you through the city. You wondered how he knew where you lived when it occurred to you that being a member of his team, he’d know where everyone lived. Not that you spent much time in your own house these nights. You thought back to a few nights ago...

The sound of Price clearing his throat awkwardly pulled you out of your reverie. Looking over at him, you watched as he shifted in his seat and waited for him to speak.

“What is it?”

Price sighed. “Look, I really don’t want to have this conversation. But I’ve told him the same thing I’m telling you now. This is one of the best task forces I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t want anything fucking that up. Understood?”

You felt your calm composure slip through the cracks as your eyes widened in panic. You glanced over to see him still staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Wait, you know about-”

“Of course I fucking know.” Price snapped, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. Shit, so maybe he did know where you actually slept after all. “I know everything that goes on in my team. Look,” he said calmly. “I don’t give a fuck what you get up to in your spare time. It’s like I told him, I’m not going to report it. It’s not been an issue yet. Just don’t let it affect you on the job.”

“I haven’t! I’ve been so careful about trying to keep it professional while we’re on a mission!” Your heart raced at the fact you had been caught out.

“I know you have, Bell. But that man is head over heels for you, in case you hadn’t realised. I’m concerned he’ll let his feelings for you get in the way of the job. Look at today – he’s the best man on our team for tech, and he was willing to throw the whole job, just out of pure panic for you.” Price sighed again. “I’m not sending either of you away. I just needed to remind you of the main reason we are here. If you two can’t handle that, I’ll be forced to find someone to take your place on the team.”

“Does anyone else know?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t think so, but if Simon continues on the way he was today, I doubt it’ll be long until Soap catches on.” Price grimaced, then looked over at you. “Darlin’,” he grinned.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Price pulled up outside what you now realised wasn’t your house. “I can’t believe he let that slip out.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, careful not to move too much that it pulled at your stitches. Opening your door, you looked back at Price. “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it.”

Price smiled and nodded in response. “Don’t be too harsh on him about today,” he said, looking over your shoulder as you heard the front door open behind you. You closed the door and waved as the jeep drove away.

*****

All your anxiety from the conversation with Price suddenly turned to irritation as you turned to face the man in the doorway. You stormed towards him, your uninjured shoulder hitting his lower abdomen as you barged your way past him into the hallway.

“Bell-” he began.

“Get out of my way, Simon. I need a fucking shower.” You snapped irritably.

“Here, let me help-”

“No.”

“Bell!” Simon pleaded.

“What the fuck was that today?!” You snarled. “You might as well just fucking announce to the whole place that we’re together!” You began climbing the stairs towards the bathroom, but stopped halfway there. Staying angry wasn’t one of your strong suits, and seeing him standing pleadingly in the hallway washed away your irritation. “Look,” you sighed heavily, coming back down the stairs so you were eye level with him. “I just had the lecture of a lifetime from Price. I can’t lose what we have here Simon, and he warned if we couldn’t keep it professional out there, then one of us would be replaced.” You stepped towards him, reaching for him in both apology and forgiveness. You placed a hand on his masked jaw, your thumb stroking along his hard cheekbone.

“I’m sorry for today,” he said apologetically, leaning his cheek into your hand. “Seeing you injured and in pain, all that blood… I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed. Smiling up at him, you smacked his arm playfully. “You’re silly, you know that right. Even I knew it wasn’t bad, and you’ve seen way more injuries than I have. I can’t imagine how you would’ve been if Soap hadn’t been there to pull your head in.”

Simon wrapped his arm around your head, resting his hand at the base of your skull and pulled you in for a hug. You lifted your other arm to place it around his waist and winced. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“How are you feeling anyway, darlin’?” He stepped back to survey you.

“Rubbish. These pain killers are doing their job, but I feel disgusting. I really do need a shower.” You looked over your shoulder towards the bathroom. “I uh... might need a hand actually,” you said awkwardly, wondering how you were going to manage without getting your stitches wet. Surprisingly, this was your first major injury, given your line of work.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling you towards the bathroom.

Simon turned on the shower and helped you undress, helping remove your shoes, pants and underwear, aware of your fresh wound as he carefully pulled the shirt from your arms and over your head. His eyes filled with remorse as they fell on your injured shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered. “That guy that shot you… that’s the one I took down. I didn’t know he wasn’t dead.” He looked away sadly.

“Hey,” you grabbed his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking you squarely in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, no one else does. I’m fine.”

“But what if it had been worse? What if that bullet had landed here?” Simon touched your forehead. “Or here,” he said, touching the base of your throat. “What if-”

“Don’t think about it,” you said firmly, pulling his hand from your neck. “Simon, I said I’m fine.” Still holding his hand, you pulled it up to your lips. “There is one thing I am annoyed about, though,” you smirked as you kissed his fingers.

Simon looked at you quizzically. “Why am I the only one naked right now? Surely you’re not gonna shower in your clothes.” You stepped inside the shower, letting the water run over your head, careful to avoid letting it hit your left shoulder.

Simon’s eyes squinted, and you knew he was smirking behind his mask as he removed the rest of his gear and dumped it on the ground next to yours. As always, his mask was the very last thing he removed. No matter how comfortable Simon was with you, and no matter how many times you’d seen him without it, there were certain insecurities that were too deeply ingrained. The last piece of Ghost removed, and only Simon stood in front of you.

Simon stepped in the large shower with you. Grabbing a face washer and pouring body wash on it, he gently helped scrub off the dried blood that had made its way down your torso. He shampooed, conditioned and brushed your hair, knowing you couldn’t lift your arm to wash any dried blood that had knotted in there. Once you were clean, you grabbed the other face wash and carefully, with your good arm, moved it across his chest and abdomen. He watched as you gently made circles on his large shoulders and down his muscular arms.

You wrapped your good arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Don’t be too long,” you smiled as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

Walking to the dresser, you pulled out some clothes and attempted to get dressed but you couldn’t pull the shirt over your head. You sighed, and sat on the bed resignedly, still in your towel. You heard the shower stop running, and Simon stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Here,” you beckoned, reaching for him. Simon came to stand in front of you, standing in between your legs. You leaned forward and kissed his stomach, feeling the warm skin beneath your lips raise with goose bumps. You tugged on his arm, pulling him down towards the ground. He knelt, still between your legs, and leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. Almost a whole foot of height difference between the two of you, yet you were the only person who could bring Simon Riley to his knees.

Your good arm snaked its way around his broad back, tracing his spine, down to his hips to the edge of the towel. You heard Simon’s breath quicken, still lightly kissing your neck, when your fingers made their way around to the front of his towel and tugged it loose, letting it fall to the floor.

You lightly brushed your fingers down his stomach and over his navel, until you reached the base of his shaft. You felt Simon’s breath hitch as you gripped it in both hands.

“Bell..” he groaned.

“Mmm?”

He brought his mouth round to yours, kissing you deeply. His mouth trailed back along your jaw to your ear. “Why am I the only one that’s naked?” You felt his smirk against your cheek as he repeated your line back to you.

“Maybe you should fix that,” you whispered back.

Simon wasted no time in removing your towel and throwing it across the other side of the room. You laid back on the bed as he trailed kisses down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and thumbing circles around the other. Your hands threaded themselves through his thick hair as you massaged his head. Simon’s hands followed his head as he made his way down your stomach and down your navel, his hands gliding over your hips and massaging up and down your thighs.

You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure as he buried his face between your legs, his mouth sucking and licking at your clit. You gasped as you felt one of Simon’s fingers enter you, then two, and he slowly picked up a rhythm as his mouth and fingers worked in synch. You could feel your walls begin to tighten as you got closer to your orgasm.

“Stop,” you gasped. Simon looked up quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly.

“Not at all,” you tugged at his arm so he pulled himself so he was hovered above you. “I need you in me right now,” you purred as you pulled his head down, his lips crashing to meet yours.

You reached down and grabbed his length firmly, stroking it. Simon’s eyes glazed over with lust as he moved his head back to your neck. Guiding him, you positioned him at your entrance.

“You sure?” he asked huskily. You knew he was teasing. He knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes,” you breathed.

You both groaned with pleasure as he entered you, filling and stretching you out. Simon set a slow pace at first, until he was sure you had adjusted to him, then quickened the pace. His hands moved to your waist as he slammed into you, holding you in place so you didn’t move around too much. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and you gripped his forearms, lost in pleasure.

Simon leaned forward and your legs dropped to his waist. He took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned in ecstasy as he hit the sweet spot inside of you.

“Simon.. I think I’m gonna-” you gasped.

Still inside of you, Simon pulled you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “Not yet, you’re not.”

“Owwwww!” You winced as the action pulled tightly at your left shoulder.

“Fuck! Sorry! You okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” you moaned as you picked up the pace again. You brought your legs either side of his waist and pulled his hands to your breasts as you lowered yourself onto him, taking him completely. Now in control, you could feel every movement and every angle as you took him deep inside you.

Simon gripped your breasts firmly as he felt your walls begin to tighten. “C’mon, darlin’,” he groaned. “I’m not far off, myself.”

“I’m gonna come,” you whined. You rocked your hips back and forth and threw your head back as your walls clenched around him. You rode your orgasm out, and heard Simon groan as his own orgasm erupted into you. You fell on top of him, exhausted and satisfied.

Simon gently rolled you off him and onto the bed as he got up to get some water. Your eyes followed him, appreciating his finely sculpted body as he walked to the sink in the ensuite, grabbing a glass off the nightstand and filling it with water. He met your eyes as he walked back to the bed.

“What?” He asked bashfully as he handed you the water, aware of his nakedness.

“You’re beautiful,” you smiled drowsily, taking the glass.

Simon chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay? They must be some strong drugs they gave you.”

“Hmmm... never better” you sighed as you handed the water back to him. Despite what you said, sleep was already pulling you under.

Simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x f reader #ghost x fem bell #ghost modern warfare

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disasterlesbiansunite · 3 years

Text

Just Two Things: A Young Royals Fix-It Fic

His mama had stood over him as she began talking. Wilhelm could hardly focus; the vision of the video (his video, his and Simon’s video, the video of Simon) burned into his brain on a constant loop. She hadn't asked him if he was alright, not yet, but he had stopped expecting her to early on in life. Duty first, he guessed, as usual. She pulled away and off the bed, rattled off the words about the interview he’ll do to protect the royal family et cetera, et cetera.

“I don’t want you to see Simon for the time being,” she said, and he glanced up, suddenly feeling like his world is fell away underneath him. He wished Erik were here, that Erik was still alive. If he were, then maybe this would all go away. He doubted any of it could now.

August brought him dinner that night when he’s too exhausted to even leave his bed. He said that Erik would want Wille to be himself - but how is August so sure of what Erik would want him to do to fix this, to just get this whole shitshow over with, when the only person who knows that is six feet under.

“Follow your heart, really.” August said. “Follow your heart.”

If anything his heart only thought of two things at the moment. One is the crumpled up rage he feels that’s been broiling under his skin since he saw the video; the screaming, panicked wild thing that wants to shout at the world and watch it shouts back until no part of him remains, no crown prince, nothing.

The other part of his brain thought of Simon. Holding him, soft and warm until his skin, kissing his neck and inhaling as much of him as possible. Kissing him, kissing Simon, an exhilarating feeling he can’t describe, he won’t ever be able to describe. Almost all of the girls he had kissed had kissed gently and slowly, like they were afraid he would disappear right next to them. It always felt like he was being kissed by air, a ghostly possession that was over in a second and just as uncomfortable.

He would have thought that Simon would kiss like that, he had thought Simon would kiss like that, Simon had kissed like that, before they really truly got to know one another. Now, Simon kissed hard and rough, like he knew Wilhelm wouldn’t disappear but just as quick, aware he couldn’t have him by himself ever. Simon’s kiss had the edge of sandpaper, tough grit and fine smoothness rolled into one. Simon kissed for the sake of it, like there was so much he wanted to do to Wille, do with Wille, that he simply couldn’t function enough to do anything but kiss him. Wille fell asleep soon after that, dinner discarded. He wondered if the last time they would ever kiss would be the time that caused both of him to want to recoil from society and away from the world. A part of him hoped so.

The nail on his thumb was raw and bleeding.

As he walked through Hillerska, everyone stared at him in pity. He was used to the stares, used to the way his simple presence shut up people around until all they could do was give him a dumb look. It was pity that was new to him, but he tried not to focus on that as Malin rushed with him to his first class of the day. He knew the things they were saying, drove himself insane as he googled himself over and over again, watching Sweden’s trending page unravel until it felt like it was all over. He watched as Simon walked into their classroom, turning heads for once in his life. Once except for the amount of times he had his, of course. He mindlessly made small talk with his classmate, but all he could think of were two things.

After class he rushed into the locker room to talk to Simon. He looked sullen, his features that were generally framed in a light source of their own were moody and dark, an awkward, ill fitting portrait. He wanted to kiss it all away. Instead, kicked at Simon’s foot, hooking the two into a game of footsie.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Simon asked, wrapping his hands around Wilhelm’s, as if he had any of the answers. Breaking news, he didn’t. All he could do was sit in silence and hold Simon, it felt like the only thing he could do. Unless…

“They’ve asked me to deny it was me in that video.” He could barely get the words out.

“Serious?”

Wille hummed, unable to interpret that reaction. “They want me to make a statement at the castle on Saturday.”

Simon turned, his head moving off of Wille's shoulder in a way that feels entirely unwelcome. Put that back please. Wille had realized that he could only really function anymore in Simon’s arms. As if he wasn’t touch starved enough, but Simon was hot and didn’t mind so it didn’t really matter. “But you’re not going to do it, right?”

“I don’t want to say anything.” Simon doesn’t get it, but Wilhelm doesn’t expect him too; too impossible to explain.

“But, Wille, everyone can see that it’s me in that video,” Wille groaned. He had forgotten that slightly important detail. Simon continued, “What am I supposed to do? But no matter what, they can’t dictate what you say,” Yes, they absolutely can, they’ve done it before.

We haven’t done anything wrong.” He had forgotten that too, spending so much time yesterday going over consequences and contingencies ranging from plan A to Z it made his head bled. But no one had actually told him that they hadn’t done anything wrong. Not even August, with his love is love attitude that came out of nowhere. Not even fucking him.

Mama had been waiting for him. Mama had met Simon. She never looked twice at Wilhelm, veiled disdain souring her mouth as she stared out the window.

“What? Why can’t I just have a relationship with him? And not say anything. Just live a normal life.” He knows why. He just wants to hear her say it.

“You’re the crown prince.” And there’s the world crashing back down onto him. “And that’s a privilege, not a punishment.” It’s both actually, but whatever, mama.

“Yes, but I didn’t ask for this!” Erik should be here. Erik would know what to do.

“Well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this,” his mama shot back. He feels like a little kid again, feels like biting his thumb raw. “You’re the only one who can take over the throne after Erik. Don’t you understand that?” He wished she would just look at him.

“You’re so young. When you’re young love feels like the most important thing in the world. When I was your age, I too had an unfortunate romance.” He wants to laugh or cry or release that panicked, clawed, anxious feeling that’s always been trapped underneath his chest, beating his heart faster and faster and faster. Unfortunate romance, she said, like Simon isn’t the best thing to happen to him, like Simon wasn’t the only one holding him together, like Simon wasn’t the only real thing in his world.

He snapped back into the conversation.“Is it worth it,” she continued. “If you feel that the attention you’ve been getting so far is unacceptable, it’s nothing compared to what you will endure for the rest of your life. We have a chance to cover this up. I urge you to take this chance. You may not get another.”

With Simon on one shoulder, and his mama and the world on the other, it turns out he was going to make the statement after all. Fucking great.

He felt like throwing up, but, to be fair, when hasn’t he.

“Are you ready?” His mama asked, like he could ever be ready to announce to the world, no that definitely was not me in that tape and that boy is definitely not the love of my life, thank you very much.

He dragged his feet, as he went into the room where Rosenqvists sits. Like Mama said, they only have one chance to not fuck this up.

Rosenqvist smiles at Wilhelm, her eyes hawkish. He musters as much of a smile as he can, playing with the buttons on his suit as the photographer directs the two around.

“It’s good to see you again, your highness.”

His eyes darted around the room. He could hear his mama and papa argue in the room they were in

“You too.”

The interview began then, menial questions about his existence that made him want to bite at his thumb. He resisted, knew that if Rosenqvist saw how his anxiety was surging through him like a freight train and mentioned it in her interview, his mama would be more angry then she already was. The questions are simple really, he barely thought about the answers and more about how Erik would have phrased them. Not like Erik would have been in this situation.

“So, Wilhelm, we both know why we’re here.” She smiled apologetically at him. Here we go. “As you are, no doubt, aware of by now there was a video from Hillerska that is going viral of what is rumored to be yourself and another male student,” she paused for a moment, uncomfortable with the what she’s about to say to a boy she’d been interviewing for most of his life, “being intimate. What do you have to say about these rumors, Crown Prince Wilhelm?” She’s less probing, then. He can tell his mom already prepped her on how exactly this interview needed to go. Fuck.

“That’s not-” his words got stuck in his throat.

“That’s not you in the video?” She filled, looking more and more saddened with each word, more maternal that he thinks he’s seen anyone in his entire life. He wanted to nod, wanted to do what his mama wanted for him, wanted to listen to what she feels is best for their country, because it is theirs now, isn’t it? Erik is dead and gone and never coming back no matter how much Wilhelm wishes he had been able to keep him alive. Wilhelm doesn’t exactly know much about what it takes to be king, not like Erik did, but he’s pretty sure a leaked tape is one thing a king is not supposed to have on his record. Wilhelm should want to deny the rumors, so why does it feel like every time he tries to open his mouth that it’s filled with cotton, that panicked wild thing grabbing hold of his brain and shaking it like his snowglobe. It’s begging him to choose the path of least resistance. And then there was Simon. Simon with his pretty soft voice and his even softer lips. Simon with his kind eyes and hands and just Simon, Simon, Simon. Simon, who has already been broken by the video and if Wilhelm denies their relationship then he’ll only break more. The only things he can think about. Just two things. Two things he can’t seem to choose between.

He took a deep breath. Erik would have wanted him to follow his heart, would have said that that would be how he becomes a great king. By being kind and good, and wholly himself.

He chose.

Simon’s mama shouts for a rematch as he laughed into his snack.

Ayub tensed next to him, “Oh, shit.”

“What’s up?” Simon asked, confused. Did his dad ask him to go home or something?

Instead, Ayub read from his phone: an online copy of this week’s Göteborgs-Posten screenshotted and reposted to Twitter. “The Crown Prince addresses rumors of Viral Video.”

“What?” He could have sworn Willie had said he wouldn’t do the interview. His mom and Sara exchange glances.

Ayub read on, “While the Royal Court denies rumors that the Crown Prince appears in the video that has gone viral this past week, his royal highness Prince Wilhelm goes more in depth on his time at Hillerska and the events surrounding the video. He says, ‘I started at Hillerska to focus on my studies and have kept to that.’ At this moment, the prince pauses and grows quiet.

‘That’s not the entire truth. The truth is that that is me in the video. I do not know who took it or why but the facts remain the same. There are many people who would want me to not address the rumors surrounding me at this time, and some even would want me to outright deny them, but I disagree. If I am to be king, and no matter what happens from this I will be king, I want to be the kind of king the people can be proud of, the kind of king my brother would have been, and the kind of king that if he saw me he’d be proud of. And that starts by being genuine and being myself to the citizens of Sweden and to the world.’ ‘Everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want,’ says the Crown Prince. ‘And I suppose the former includes me, but I would still like this time to decide further who I am and what kind of king I will be.’”

Simon is stunned. Of all things, he didn’t think of this as even an option. He fishes his phone out of his pocket.

To Wille: just read the interview, what. the. fuck.

From Wille: Is that a good “what. the. fuck!!!” or a “bad what. the. fuck?!?”

To Wille: you’re so brave, wille, thank you

To Wille: also according to ayub youre trending as “gay king wilhelm” on twitter rn

From Wille: Fuck yeah, bow down to your king. Meet me before school starts tomorrow, courtyard?

To Wille: see you then, gay king willie

As Simon approached the school - having already been stopped by four journalists, three photographers, two nosy neighbors and one blogger - he could see as Wille nervously paced at the edge of the courtyard, his hand rubbed deep into his chest, shirt creasing around it. Simon couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened in the palace after Wille’s interview. From what he saw the queen didn’t really strike him as the accepting type, but that was one of those things he’d let Wille discuss on his own time. He snuck up behind Wille instead, held his arms and kissed his neck.

“Hello, my prince,” he said and twirled Wille around and into his arms. Wille let out a little sigh of relief and if he could have held Willie there for forever he would. Wille smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek.

“Can we just go one day Simon without having your weird relationship issues making a scene,” Sara huffed past and quickened her pace to the school. Simon hadn’t noticed the stares, it felt like everyone in the courtyard had been watching them from Felice to August to other boarders Simon couldn’t name, but that had definitely called him names. Simon can’t bring himself to care anymore.

“I’m so proud of you, Wille.” Wilhelm let out a little noise, the only amount of negative emotion that being schooled on refinement since before he could talk would allow. He grabbed at Simon’s coat and drew him in for a hug.

“I love you,” Wille said and suddenly Simon’s whole world had shrunk down to three words.

Wille quickly ended the hug and walked towards the school, his bodyguards following quick after. Simon speed walked up to him and grabbed his hand, “I love you too.” Wille broke out into that tiny golden smile Simon loved to tease out and grabbed Simon’s hand.

The stares followed but Simon didn’t care. “Just two things left,” he said, “Get through this last day before break and then find whoever took that video.”

“And then?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,”

Wille hummed and played with Simon’s as they settled at the doorway of their first class of the day, “You might want to work on your plans.”

“No, my plan only needs those two things.” Simon messied with Wilhelm’s hair and strolled into the classroom.

Wille followed after one hand fixing his hair, the other clutching at Simon’s hand, muttering, “Just two things?”

Just two things.

#if this is bad im sorry #young royals netflix #young royals #wilhelm x simon #fic writing #yes they are my comfort characters #after like two days #character study #myownfics

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28onlythebrave · 3 years

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jace herondale was only 16 when he said/wrote:

“But I kept getting pulled back here. I couldn’t stop walking, couldn’t stop thinking. About the first time I ever saw you, and how after that I couldn’t forget you. I wanted to, but I couldn’t stop myself. I forced Hodge to let me be the one who came to find you and bring you back to the Institute. And even back then, in that stupid coffee shop, when I saw you sitting on that couch with Simon, even then that felt wrong to me—I should have been the one sitting with you. The one who made you laugh like that. I couldn’t get rid of that feeling. That it should have been me. And the more I knew you, the more I felt it—it had never been like that for me before. I’d always wanted a girl and then gotten to know her and not wanted her anymore, but with you the feeling just got stronger and stronger until that night when you showed up at Renwick’s and I knew.”

“And then to find out that the reason I felt like that—like you were some part of me I’d lost and never even knew I was missing until I saw you again—that the reason was that you were my sister, it felt like some sort of cosmic joke. Like God was spitting on me. I don’t even know for what—for thinking that I could actually get to have you, that I would deserve something like that, to be that happy. I couldn’t imagine what it was I’d done that I was being punished for.”

“And I’m supposed to sit by while you date boys, fall in love with someone else, get married…?” “And meanwhile, I’ll die a little bit more every day, watching.”

“There is no pretending,” “I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there’s a life after that, I’ll love you then.”

Clary, Despite everything, I can't bear the thought of this ring being lost forever, any more then I can bear the thought of leaving you forever. And though i have no choice about the one, at least I can choose about the other. Im leaving you our family ring because you have as much right to it as i do. I'm writing this watching the sun come up. You're asleep, dreams moving behind your restless eyelids. I wish i knew what you were thinking. I wish I could slip into your head and see the world the way you do. I wish I could see myself the way you do. But maybe I dont want to see that. Maybe It would make me feel even more than I already do that I'm perpetuating some kind of Great Lie on you, and I couldnt stand that. I belong to you. You could do anything you wanted with me and i would let you. You could ask anything of me and I'd break myself trying to make you happy. My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling i have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you cant have and wanting what you shouldnt want. and I shouldnt want you. All night I've watched you sleeping, watched the moonlight come and go, casting it's shadows across your face in black and white. I've never seen anything more beautiful. I think of the life we could have had if things were different, a life where this night is not a singular event, separate from everything else that's real, but every night. But things aren't different, and I cant look at you without feeling like ive tricked you into loving me. The truth no one is willing to say out loud is that no one has a shot against Valentine but me. I can get close to him like no one else can. I can pretend I want to join him and he'll believe me, up until that last moment where I end it all, one way or another. I have something of Sebastians; I can track him to where my fathers hiding, and thats what im going to do. So I lied to you last night. I said I just wanted one night with you. But i want every night with you. And thats why I have to slip out of your window now, like a coward. Because if I had to tell you this to your face, I couldnt make myself go. I dont blame you if you hate me, I wish you would. As long as I can stil dream, I will dream of you. — Jace

#tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #jace herondale #clary fairchild #clace #clary x jace #city of glass #cog

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

ssw | pietro maximoff; you make my heart beat faster. [ suggestive ]

Notes:

Okay, so.. This is kind of a follow up to the one shot I wrote a few months ago, happy birthday. So this picks up the next day. Idk where this idea came from or if it even makes sense when read immediately after that one, but ah well. My brain kept nagging at me to write the thing so I wrote the thing.

[ happy birthday ] for those who haven't read it already.

The translation: ty chuvstvuyesh', chto delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok = "do you feel what you're doing to me, kitten?" loosely via Google translate.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

the daydream of him inside you // seeing the bulge in his pants // you make my heart beat faster. - those were all the prompts / inspiration used to write this.

Fandom / Character:

MCU / Pietro Maximoff x Barton!OFC, Nicola.

Other Writing Nicola / Pietro can be found in:

[ happy birthday ] + several other oooold posts way back on the blog I think. I wanna write a fic for them one day. We shall see, though.

Warnings:

[ NSFW. Absolutely no minors.] If you're underage, this was not written for you -nor should you be reading it. If you choose to keep reading, this is strictly a you problem. I can't do anything about it. I warned you.

Things you need to be warned about before reading: implied sexual encounter.

Yes. I realize that I don't go full into writing out the scene. But there's enough here that anyone underage has zero business reading it. So, I'm warning you guys now.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@micolegg

@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. ]

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve barely touched your food, Nicola.”

My mom’s concerned question cut through my thoughts and I made myself smile, nodding. Taking a bite as I replied through a mouthful, “I’m fine. Was just thinking. That’s all.”

“About?” my mom eyed me expectantly. Hints of an amused smile played at her lips. I hesitated for a moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost swear that somehow she knew something was up.

,, would it be a stretch to think so? One, she is my mom and two, I’ve been acting skittish and just plain out of it all damn day...” the thought came and as quickly as it did, I shoved it down in the depths of my brain.

I shrugged. “ Nothing in particular.” I gave the vaguest answer I could come up with. If she had one tenth of a clue what I’d really been thinking about just now, I’m honestly not sure how she’d react to it.

I’d been replaying last night over and over again in my mind all day. Every single part of me was dying to ask Pietro if it meant anything or not but at the same time, every single part of me was also scared to death to do that very thing. The one or two times we’d been alone with each other today and I did try, the words got stuck in my throat. And he wasn’t behaving any differently than he normally did, so I kind of just… Let it go. Started to convince myself that making the two of us love the night before was just a one time thing. As my best friend Simone would put it, “Sometimes, you just need to scratch that itch.”

The whole problem with her theory is that even now, having scratched this particular itch.. I wanted to do it again. And again.

I wanted so much more than that too. The brief glimpse I’d gotten of Pietro beneath the sarcasm and the flirty swagger the night before completely did me in. I’d gone from trying hard to keep him at arms length to falling head over feet in love with him and knowing this drove me crazy.

I felt someone staring at me.

I looked up just as Pietro was looking down. Pouting to myself a little, I reached out to grab the spoon in the bowl of mashed potatoes to scoop another serving onto my plate. Pietro reached for the spoon at the same time and when our hands brushed, I felt this little jolt.

He moved his hand but not until he’d let it linger against mine for a second or two. His gaze not leaving mine for the entirety of it. Under the table, my thighs clenched tight. I could see his hands all over me again in my head. Feel his cock buried deep inside me.

I went from a little wet to full on soaked between the mental imagery and the brush of his hand against mine. My stomach coiled.

My body tensed a little.

I dropped my gaze first, busying myself with putting more potatoes on my plate. Pietro kept watching me.

My parents were talking at the head of the table as my mom fed Nathaniel some smushed peas and carrots... My little sister scarfed down her food and then shot out of her chair and out the backdoor to go play a game of tag with my brother in the backyard before it got to dark to play and they had to come inside.

I dared to glance up from shoveling food into my mouth and Pietro gave a teasing wink. Biting his lip as he openly fucked me with his eyes.

And there it went.. The lazy flip flop of my stomach. And no matter what I tried, I couldn’t tear my eyes out of the ocean blue depths of his.

I couldn’t take any more of the torture that was being around him and not having the courage to ask what I was dying to know so I stood and grabbed my plate as soon as I finished eating, making my way into the kitchen to put it in the sink.

I went ahead and washed it while I stood there. I was just drying the plate and about to put it away in the cabinet overhead when I felt Pietro’s muscular body press against me from behind. Wordlessly, he took the plate from my hand and sat it on the top of the stack inside. I turned to face him.

This put us body to body.

I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed and for about five or six seconds, I willed myself to say something. Do something.

But I couldn’t bring myself to. Because as much as I was dying to know whether last night was a one time thing or if there was really something between us… Parts of me were scared to death that if I asked, I wouldn’t like the answer.

And that kept me quiet.

Pietro’s hand raised. Reaching out. Brushing strands of hair out of my eyes. I barely restrained a whimper at the touch. His eyes flashed a brighter blue and his head tilted slightly as he stared down at me.

Lost in thought.

His hips pressed into mine harder. When I felt the bulge in his jeans, I took a few shaky breaths. His hand rested on my hip, squeezing. Digging the tips of his fingers into it. He leaned down slightly and his mouth grazed the shell of my ear as he asked, “ty chuvstvuyesh', chto ty delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok?” in a breathless whisper.

If I thought I was wet before, hearing him speak to me in his native tongue had me soaked. Absolutely flooded. The only word I could pick out of whatever he’d asked was kitten. And as usual, when he called me kitten, my heart fluttered just a little more in my chest. He rocked himself into me clumsily and I sucked in a breath.

“Pietro.” I muttered. I was right on the verge of asking him what he’d just said. And asking him about what the night before truly was, if he felt anything or if it just kinda… happened. But just as I thought I’d finally be able to get the words out, it’s like my brain froze up all over again. I frowned at myself in frustration and sighed, shaking my head. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

I heard my dad calling my name from the next room, so I stepped away from Pietro reluctantly and went to leave the kitchen. Pietro grabbed hold of my hips, holding me in place for a few seconds. Staring down at me.

“ I need to talk to you later, kotenok. Alone.”

All I could do was nod. Tell him that I was going to go up to my room in a few minutes.

He nodded.

I stepped away and walked into the next room, only barely managing to pull myself together enough to talk to my parents without either one of them seeming to be aware of just how flustered I truly was.

As soon as I got done talking to my dad, I made my way upstairs. Shutting the door to my room and leaning against it just to hopefully pull myself together.

I still couldn’t.

I flopped across my bed, picking up the Anatomy book and my notebook, preparing to start studying again for the final I had coming up soon and just as I settled into it, there were two knocks at my bedroom door.

I slipped off the bed, wandering over to the door. Opening it.

Pietro leaned in the doorway, gazing down at me. That hungry look in his eyes again.

I stepped out of the doorway and let him into my room, shutting the door behind me. When I turned around to face him, we were body to body. Leaning into me, he put a hand against the door, just above my head. I could feel him straining even harder against his jeans. His other hand raised, resting against the side of my face. Cradling my cheek as he closed the distance between our mouths.

I started out with my palm down. Determined to keep distance between us until I finally worked up the courage to ask my question, hear my dreaded answer and be done, but by the time his tongue slipped past my lips and started to trace my teeth, I was clutching at the front of his fitted black shirt instead. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging until I felt it swelling under pressure. The kiss deepened until I got so lightheaded I thought I’d melt.

He seemed to sense this because he crushed me against him and the hand cupping my face drifted down. Skimming down my side. Stopping at my hip.

The kiss finally broke so we could breathe and we pulled apart; breathless. Staring at each other quietly. Wide-eyed.

“Kotenok…” he muttered softly. Fondly. His voice dying away as he stared down at me like he was lost in thought. Trying to say something.

“What’s up?” I mumbled, my stomach flipping and flopping lazily.

“Last night was..” he went quiet on me again and I tensed a little, bracing myself for him to continue. Preparing myself in the event that what he was about to say wasn’t what I longed to hear.

So it shocked me when he was closing the distance between our mouths all over again as he muttered in a lust-filled whisper, “Last night was more than just sex. You make me feel things that I haven’t before, kotenok.”

My breath caught in my throat and I didn’t realize it until I finally took a breath and it was shaky. I gazed up at him, letting his words sink in. Trying to wrap my head around it. I went to say something, to tell him that I felt the same way and I didn’t do what we’d done last night often, but he pressed the side of his finger against my lips, silencing me and continued to speak.

“You make my heart beat faster.” he took hold of the hand I had rested against his chest, placing it over his heart. I gasped quietly as I looked up at him again and saw the way he was looking back down at me, a look of pure and total adoration.

He looked nervous as hell. Fidgeting a little. Not quite sure what to do with his hands after he moved one off my hip and let go of my hand with the other. He went to step away, swearing under his breath and I realized that he wanted me to react somehow.

I pressed against him from behind. My hand wrapping around his where it lingered on the knob to my bedroom door. “Don’t go. Please?” I asked in a hushed whisper. Pietro turned around and when he did, I melted against him. Raising my arms to wrap them around his neck. Dragging my fingers through a thick mess of platinum blond. Tugging at it as I rose to tiptoe and crashed my mouth against his. Laughing softly when our noses bumped and our lips connected all over again; hungry. Desperate. Frenzied.

He reached down, twisting the lock on my door knob so that it was locked and no one could come in by accident. A low growl rose up from the depths of his chest, hanging in the air between us only to be swallowed by the kiss as our mouths reconnected and it deepened. I rubbed myself against him clumsily. Needy.

His hands locked across my ass and he slipped me up his body, stepping over to my bed. Dropping me against my mattress softly and positioning himself on top of me. Pressing his hips into mine. Bucking against me as his mouth strayed from my own, working it’s way down the side of my neck. His lips caught on my pulse, making me shiver and rock myself up into him as I gave a needy whine and raised my legs, squeezing his hips with my knees. The kiss broke and he muttered against my mouth with a teasing grin, “ Think you can be quiet for me, kotenok?”

“ I can try.” I whimpered as his mouth worked down the front of my throat, teeth scraping against skin. Stubble tickling me. Making me cling to him as he snapped his hips against me and his hands moved down between us, catching in the hem of my shirt. He pulled me up to a sitting position and pulled my shirt off, tossing it onto my bedroom floor. I tugged at his shirt, whining impatiently and he chuckled. Nipping softly at my bottom lip as he teased, “Patience.”

“Pietro.” I pleaded.

He tugged his shirt over his head, letting it settle on the floor near mine. And then he was leaning in. His hands moving up my sides. Stopping to squeeze my breasts, growling to himself quietly before reaching around. Hooking a thick digit beneath the band of my bra and working the clasps free. He pulled it off, balling it up and tossing it on the floor with the rest of our clothes as he leaned into me even more, my back pressed flat against my bed all over again. He positioned himself on top of me, his body spreading my legs wide and as his head dipped down, my fingers curled in my blanket and thick blond hair.

His mouth worked across my collarbones. Then lower. He squeezed my tits together, mouth diving down. Latching onto one of my nipples. Tongue circling lazily until he’d teased it to a point and I was squirming beneath him, rocking my hips, desperate for any kind of friction I could get. My fingers caught in the waistband of his jeans and I worked the button and the zipper free. He pulled away and slipped off the bed to shed his jeans and underwear and eyed me hungrily. Leaning down. Meeting my gaze with a mischief filled smirk as he took off my pants. Holding my gaze the entire time.

I kicked my pants free at the ankle and he was on top of me again. The tip of his thick cock brushing right against my fabric covered crotch as he bucked into me and muttered against my mouth, “Are you ready for me, kotenok?”

“Please?” I begged breathlessly, barely managing to keep my voice a whisper as I did so. When he smirked at me as if he were pleased with himself, I realized exactly what his goal was.

He wanted to see just how close he could get me to getting loud.

I pouted up at him and he chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re being a tease. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Oh?” he muttered, his hand disappearing between us. Slipping into my panties. Fingers working me open. Burying deep in my throbbing, wet sex. I arched my back and gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at it as I rocked against his hand.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted him buried to the hilt inside of me. Now.

But Pietro was in a teasing mood tonight. Something told me that the more I begged, the more he was going to prolong it. And if I didn’t beg? He’d prolong it.

I was absolutely fucked.

One way or another, he was going to have me screaming his name by the end of the night.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff oneshot #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff one shot #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff x oc #my writing ; pietro maximoff #my oneshots ; pietro maximoff #my fics ; pietro maximoff #// absolutely no one (0) underage. minors dni.#// implied s*xual content #// i'm warning you guys here so everyone knows... even if it doesn't actually go into great detail.

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twdbegins · 3 years

Text

A Little R&R

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Some sexual references.

Word Count: 2,110

“Mmhm, well, you’re gonna see a noticeable change if you keep that up.”

Nobody has ever said that being a doctor is easy work. As a matter of fact, being in any job in medical field is probably one of the most demanding jobs there can possibly be. However, you had gone through a lot of school to become a doctor and while it was hard work, it was rewarding work. Nothing filled you with more joy than helping others. It was something that made you super passionate. It reminded you that, despite the fall, there’s still good in the world.

With that being said, there were still times when the workload did sometimes get to be a bit much. At least before, when you were in a legit hospital, you had nurses and other doctors to provide their hands-on help. Now, it was pretty much just you. If you were lucky, Simon or another savior might be able to offer some minimal help, but in an overall sense, you were on your own. Another challenge refers to the more sanitary side of things. Since you weren’t in a hospital, the infirmary wasn’t as sterilized as you wanted it to be. You cleaned the infirmary from ceiling to floor every single day and as often as you could. You always deep cleaned your tools and sterilized them, but at the end of the day there was no way for everything to be completely clean.

The worst part of it, though, was the fact that you had every single solitary patient. Obviously, if you’re the only doctor, then everyone is going to come to you. Some days you would have one person come in and some days you would have 40 people come in. It just varied from day to day. Your absolute least favorite day was check-up day. After you had been at the Sanctuary for about a year (and Negan realized you were there to stay) he found it necessary for every savior to have an annual checkup. Everyone. On the same day.

The first year you had to do it was absolute hell. Everyone showed up at random times during the day and there was no order whatsoever. However, the next year, you put a system in order. Every savior would have to come at a specific time, starting with the highest in command to the lowest (this was per Negan’s request). So, Negan always went first, Simon next, and so on and so forth. You usually averaged about one savior every fifteen minutes. Which doesn’t sound that bad, but considering there’s an average of about 150 to 200 saviors, it makes out to be a long day of work.

It was checkup day, November 11th to be exact. You had made sure to hydrate plenty the day before and get a good night of sleep, because you were not taking any breaks to try and get this over with quicker. Sure enough, you heard Negan’s familiar voice in the doorway at 6:00 A.M. sharp;

“Well, good morning, doc!” He chirped.

You gave a smile;

“Negan.” You said acknowledging his presence.

Negan always went first because he was indeed highest in command. He also liked to just get it over with so he could still get a useful day of work. He knew the drill. He stripped off his signature leather jacket, setting it on the chair in the corner with his beloved Lucille. He had this rather unsettling smirk on his face. As much as you respected him as a leader, he could be quite disrespectful to you. Not in a “I don’t respect your feelings kind of way”, but he was known as a ladies man (his multiples wives as evidence to that). It didn’t at all offend or bother him to have a woman put her hands on him, in a professional way or not. He sat on the table as you began his checkup exam. He stayed silent for a little while, but you knew it wouldn’t last. As you were listening to his lungs and overall breathing, he spoke;

“You know, if you really want to see how I can handle myself, you can close that door and I’ll just show you.” He prided.

You hushed him, waving a hand in front of his face. You couldn’t properly hear what you were listening for if he was talking. You stayed quiet as you finished listening to his lungs before you answered. You hung the stethoscope around your neck as you tested his reflexes.

“Now, that’s not a very professional thing to say to your doctor is it?” You said grabbing the reflex hammer off of the counter.

He shrugged;

“I mean, doctor-patient confidentially, right? Or does that not apply anymore?” He asked.

“No, it does...depending on who you are,” You said truthfully.

You tested Negan’s reflexes on his knees, noting that his response was a little slow;

“Reflexes are delayed,” You said taking the back of his hand and checking for dehydration. Nada. “Did you drink last night?”

He nodded as you wrote it down on his chart. He was healthy as a horse.

“Well, other than the reflexes, you’re good to go,” You said truthfully.

Negan smiled;

“Sweet,” He said getting off of the table and retrieving his jacket and weapon of choice.

“Will you send Simon in, please?” You asked.

Negan zipped his jacket;

“As long as you two promise to behave in here.” Negan said approaching the doorway and motioning for Simon who was right outside.

Simon walked in, Negan giving him a slight glare as he left. Simon raised a brow and looked at you;

“What was that about?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes;

“Turned him down. Again.” You said referring to his advances.

That wasn’t at all an uncommon occurrence. Negan was always trying to pick you up and had even thrown a marriage proposal your way before. All to which you denied and continue to deny every time. It was kind of a running joke between you and Simon now;

“Shocker,” He said pulling you to him, “Mornin’, baby.”

You gave him a quick kiss;

“Hi.” You replied.

He sat on the exam table, eager to get this over with. He hated going to the doctor, although he was willing to make an exception. You checked his eyes and ears first, both in perfect condition. You checked his lungs and breathing next, as you had done with Negan.

“Take off your shirt, please.” You asked.

He smirked as he lifted it over his head;

“Yes ma’am.” He set his shirt aside and winced at the cold metal of the stethoscope against his back.

His hands were on yours hips, rubbing in circles as you listened to his breathing and heart beat. His heart rate was a little elevated, but that was most likely from the fact that he was raking you over. You were asking just some general questions (all of which you knew the answer to) along the way. You had your hands at his neck, feeling for any swollen or tender lymph nodes;

“Have you had skin irritation or any noticeable changes to your body lately?” You asked as you felt his neck gently, his skin sensitive to the feel of your touch.

He groaned;

“Mmhm, well, you’re gonna see a noticeable change if you keep that up.” He said.

You pulled your hands away and tried not to laugh;

“Sorry. I’m almost done.” You said reaching for a tongue depressor.

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” He asked curiously.

You shrugged and gave a questionable look;

“Late for sure. Open wide,” You instructed, “Maybe midnight?”

You checked his throat for any signs of inflamed tonsils or strep throat as he attempted to speak a response that was just muffled;

“Huh?” You asked taking the depressor away.

“I said to come to my room when you do get off. I’ll be up.” He repeated.

You nodded, jotting the final notes on his chart;

“You don’t have to wait up for me.” You kindly said.

“Sure, I do. I want to.” He retorted.

You smiled, and sighed contently when you finished his examination;

“Well, my love, you are in perfectly good health.”

He laughed at your monotonous tone and slipped his shirt back on, before standing back up;

“Do you have any breaks today?” He asked.

“Nope. Straight shot from start to finish.” You replied.

He nodded with a slight grimace. He hated seeing you work yourself too hard. But you wouldn’t do it any other way. He kissed you again before leaving;

“I’ll see you tonight. Don’t work too hard.”

The day went by horribly slow. Person after person came through. You repeated the same tests over and over until you felt like you’d freaking pass out. Finally, low and behold, you examined the very last savior at around 12:15 AM. Basically 18 hours of straight work with no breaks. Honestly, it should’ve been longer than that, but some exams didn’t take as long as others. You were exhausted and drained. You cleaned the infirmary as usual, used the shower, and finally were lights out at 12:45. You locked up and straggled to Simon’s room, which felt like miles away. You walked into his room and, sure enough, he was awake and waiting for you.

You looked tired, to say the least. He offered a comforting smile;

“Hey. All done?” He asked.

“All done.” You affirmed.

Your legs and feet had never hurt so bad in your entire life. You quite literally collapsed onto the bed, letting out a sigh of relief that you felt in your soul. He sat on the end of the bed as you just took a moment to mellow out. Your feet were a horrible shade of dark pink, borderline red from the heavy blood flow from being on your feet all day.

“126. 126 saviors came through. That’s a personal record.” You said with a laugh.

Simon shook his head in disbelief;

“I don’t know how you do it. Anybody that you think will kick the bucket this year?” He asked slightly joking but also not.

You scoffed;

“From a physical health standpoint, no. Mentally though, that new guy Derek might be in for it if he doesn’t change his attitude,” You stated honestly.

“Oh, yeah. The tall redheaded guy, right? I think Richie got into a tussle with him a few weeks ago.” Simon said recalling the big fight that went down.

You hummed in affirmation as you watched him trace circles on your leg lazily with his index finger. You groaned and rubbed your face;

“My feet hurt so bad. I feel like I’ve been standing and walking all day.” You growled.

Simon got up from the bed and laughed;

“That’s because you have,” He grabbed a bottle off of the dresser and sat back down. You suddenly felt a cold presence and rubbing sensation on your leg. You looked down and let out a groan of relief upon realizing Simon was rubbing your legs and feet;

“You are an absolute angel, you know that?”

He smirked;

“I do my best.”

His hands worked wonders on your aching lower limbs and appendages. You raised a brow;

“Where did you get lotion from?” You asked examining the dark red, label-less bottle.

His hand gently gripped and slid down from your knee to your ankle;

“I have my ways,” He grinned; “I thought you outta know that by now.”

“You’re still full of surprises. I never know what tricks you have up your sleeve.” You laughed heartily.

He still grinned;

“Yeah, well, I gotta keep it interesting,” He joked, “No, but I found this last week. I’ve just been meaning to give it to you.”

The lotion’s scent was so good and so calming. You definitely could’ve fallen asleep right where you were.

“At least I know I’ll sleep good tonight.” You stated.

“Speaking of, I think it’s time to call it a night.” He said rubbing the last bit of lotion in and returning the bottle to the dresser.

You groaned and rolled over to your side of the bed with him quickly sliding into his side. You rested yourself against his side, immediately feeling like you were about to fall asleep. Before you drifted off, however, he softly said a few last words for the night;

“You really do keep this place running,” He said kissing your head, “I love you. And I’m really proud of you and everything that you do.”

You looked up at him sleepily, kissing him softly before falling asleep in the arms of the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

#simon x reader #The Walking Dead #the walking dead simon #simon the walking dead #simon twd #twd simon #simon twd x reader #simon twd fanfic #simon twd imagines #twdbegins

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Note

Prompt 10 // Dialogue6 with Nathan from Misfits since the last one was so good? This could be scary&ever so slightly steamy !

A/N: Aw, you’re so sweet darling. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. This didn’t Halloween...but it’s pretty intense/scary? I hope it satisfies. Word Count: 3487 Content Warnings: fire, near death experiences, implied death, Major Character Death (temporary), panic attack, references to Misfits S2

“Beth is throwing a big party this weekend at her doctor boyfriend’s beach house,” Alisha said nonchalantly while you and she, plus Kelly and Nicki, were out to brunch. “Maybe we should all go?”

“Wot? The four of us at some fancy bloke’s party?” Kelly asked, gesturing with her burrito.

“Well, and the guys…” Alisha shrugged. “I thought it would be fun. It’s the first time we can go wherever and not have to worry about getting busted for curfew.”

“What is the point of going to a beach house in October?” Nicki asked. “It’s too cold for swimming.”

“I don’t know! To be at a party and have fun?” Alisha snapped, volume raising enough to catch the attention of the next table over. “If you don’t want to come, don’t.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” you piped up. “They’ll probably do a bonfire, and if it’s a party thrown by rich people the booze will be quality. What have we got to lose?”

Alisha smiled at you gratefully and nodded. “See, Y/N knows. Come on, it’ll be a great time.”

By the end of brunch, you and Alisha had convinced Kelly, and Nicki said she would go if Curtis wanted to, which was the best you could get from her (now that she was being slowly but awkwardly integrated into a friendship built on a core bond of murder and near death experiences that you hoped for her sake she’d never actually understand). You were confident that Simon would be uncomfortable but willing to do whatever Alisha wanted, and Nathan...well Nathan could easily be bribed by the promise of booze and drunk girls.

You sighed a little sadly at the thought. You liked him a lot, when he wasn’t being totally obnoxious for the sake of a laugh, but not once in all of your time together had he ever indicated that he might be interested. If anything, you thought he might hate you, at least in comparison to the others. Still, you tried not to dwell on it as you said goodbye to the others and headed off to work, where you would undoubtedly see him, since he always dropped in to try and convince you to give him free lunch (which you did, not telling him it came out of your already meager paycheck).

The night of the party, you linked sweater-covered arms with Alisha as the two of you staggered down the dunes toward the gathered crowd, the thick sand making you move as if you were already drunk.

“So are you finally going to say something tonight?” she asked you as you walked.

“What are you talking about?” you countered, turning to give her a puzzled look.

“Oh come on. Everyone knows you fancy Nathan! Except him.”

Even though you couldn’t see her face in the dim light, you knew her well enough to guess the look on her face.

“As if it matters. He’s definitely not into me, so why waste my breath humiliating myself?”

“You don’t know that for sure. He’s probably never matured past the whole ‘be mean to them so they don’t know you like them’ from grade school. And tonight could be perfect. The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“I think I’ll leave the romance to you and Simon,” you laughed, giving her a gentle shove toward her boyfriend where he stood on the fringes of the group, bobbing (dancing?) awkwardly with a beer in hand.

She turned around to stick her tongue out at you before greeting him with a shy smile. You shook your head, happy for the both of them and their budding romance, before wandering a little further down the beach to get yourself a drink.

“Nice turtleneck,” a familiar voice drawled sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, plucking a beer from one of the massive buckets of ice, and turning to face him.

“Hey Nathan,” you sighed.

“Aw, don’t say it like that,” he pouted dramatically. “Ya know yer happy to see me.”

“Ugh, actually I was hoping that for one night you’d not be hangin around,” you muttered, half-lying.

He looked shocked for a moment, hurt flashing in his brilliant green eyes before he turned away with a shrug. “Fine then, I’ll leave ya alone. I’m sure there’s way prettier than ya around anyway. Fanny for days, and I don’t need ya.”

“You’re a prick!” you growled at his retreating back, fumbling to open the bottle in your hand and take a deep drink, slicing your hand on the edge of the cap in the process. “Shit.”

“Need some help with that?” a new voice asked.

You looked up into a pair of friendly brown eyes and smiled softly. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

He smiled back at you, introducing himself as John, and held out his hand for you to place yours in. He poured water over it, wrapping it in a napkin after, holding pressure on it for a long moment before checking to see if it had stopped bleeding.

“So what’s the verdict?” you asked jokingly. “Do I get to keep my hand?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could,” he attempted a wink and laughed when it came out more awkward than suave. You couldn’t help but laugh along, feeling your face grow warm as he did in fact maintain his hold on you and ushered you back toward the fire and the group.

“He’s wrong you know,” he said.

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“That guy. He was wrong about there being prettier people around. You’re the most beautiful person on this beach.”

You bit your lip, looking shyly down at your feet. “Oh…I mean, probably not…”

“I think so. And I graduated top of my class, so I think I know a thing or two.” Seeing you shift uncomfortably, he smiled. “Hey, let’s dance.”

Not having any reason to deny him, even though he really wasn’t the one you wanted to be dancing with, you nodded, shifting so that your arms draped around his shoulders, your still mostly full beer clutched lightly by the neck. His hands came to rest on your hips, large and warm even through your shirt, and the two of you swayed to the music drifting over the crowd.

Nathan watched darkly as Y/N danced with some other guy. His chest felt tight as they laughed and swayed together, as he leaned in to whisper something that made Y/N blush, and his lips twisted into a scowl. He took a swig from the red solo cup of mystery alcohol he had snagged and was just about to storm over and interrupt when Kelly cut in front of him.

“Wot do ya think yer doin?” she asked, gesturing in that scolding way of hers.

“I was just going over there,” he said, innocently. “Wanted to meet Y/N’s new friend.”

“Don’t,” he glared at her. “Ya’ve blown at least a half dozen shots with Y/N. I don’t blame ‘em if they decided ya ain’t worth it.”

Nathan’s face dropped. “Ya don’t know what yer talkin about Kel,” he muttered.

“I didn’t mean it like that Nathan, and ya know it. I’m just sayin, there’s nothing wrong with Y/N dancing with a cute guy and wanting to just stay mates with ya.”

“Except we aren’t even mates. Y/N barely tolerates me.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a prick all the time, pushing their buttons almost as bad as you do with Simon…”

“I do not!”

Before Kelly could respond, someone screamed, echoing over the dark beach and causing everyone to turn toward the water.

“There’s something out there!” the girl cried, pointing shakily.

People began looking restlessly around at each other, no one sure what to do. And then someone laughed.

“Real funny, Beth,” a voice called. “Ooh something spooky in the water! Next you’ll be saying there’s ghosts in the attic.”

A few nervous chuckles ran through the group as people returned to their activities, the air of tension not quite lifting.

“You don’t think there’s actually something out there do you?” Nicki asked, her and Curtis appearing near you and making you jump, almost spilling your drink on John.

You took a shaky breath, bringing the bottle to your lips to give yourself time to reply without sounding scared.

“Nah,” you said eventually. “I mean, what could be out there?”

“Yeah, it was probably just like a seagull or something,” John said, laughing. “Beth is always so overdramatic.” Something about the way he said it grated on your nerves but you tried to shrug it off.

Curtis raised an eyebrow at the hand still on your waist. You shrugged slightly. Of all your friends, he and his girlfriend would probably be the most proud of you for trying to move past your unfortunate crush on Nathan, but the attempt was only half-hearted so you almost didn’t want to admit it.

Another scream rang out. A different voice this time. High and sharp and insistent that there was something out there in the shadows. One of the classic dudebros made some joke about “chicks being hysterical” and started heading for the water. Several people tried to stop him, saying that it was too dangerous. He ignored all of them. Shortly after he hit the water, his outline suddenly disappeared.

After that, chaos ensued with people screaming and running in all directions. Some headed for the water, phone flashlights glancing off the waves as they looked for the missing man. Most seemed determined to just be anywhere but there. Someone crashed into the corner of the pallet stack that formed the base of the bonfire, going down in a scream of pain under the now fallen and spreading fire. Nicki swore, the explicative disappearing as she vanished.

You lost track of both Curtis and John in the crush, struggling to keep your feet as you waded through the loose, stirred up sand.

You wanted to help but you didn’t know how.

You tripped. Falling onto the uneven ground, you tucked in on yourself, trying to protect your head and organs from the stampede now over and around you.

“There you guys are!” Alisha cried, her and Simon running up to the group as they huddled together up the beach, standing on a rocky hill and looking down at the churning crowd and roaring fire, spitting below.

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning.

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing.

“Shit,” Curtis said, running nervous hands over his head. “They were right behind me...I must have lost ‘em in the crowd…”

“Y/N is smart…” Alisha tried to reason.

“Yeah. Yeah. Probably just on another part of the beach…” Nicki sounded more scared than convincing.

“Hey.” Nathan jumped, turning to see Y/N standing behind him, no worse for wear, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Oh thank god. Jesus, Y/N. You had us worried,” he sighed, trying to calm his racing heart. “I mean...they were worried. I wasn’t...ya know cus I don’t…aw fuck, I was worried too. Thought ya might be buried under all that mess.”

You bit your lip, raising your eyes as you nodded to the rest of the group. He looked back to realize they were all staring at him in concern.

“Nathan, what the fuck are you on?” Alisha snapped. “Y/N’s not there. No one is.”

“No. No no no. That means…” he turned back to look at you, desperation in his eyes as reality dawned on him.

“I died. Tripped and got trampled. Lame right?”

He shook his head, tugging at his curls. “Shiiiit.”

“What else did you think I was apologizing for?” you tried to tease, tears rolling down both your faces.

“Nathan, is Y/N…is she dead?” Simon asked hesitantly. “Are you talking to her ghost?”

He swallowed heavily, nodding reluctantly. Curtis gasped.

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning.

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing.

“Down there somewhere!” Curtis answered, craning his neck as if he could spot you in the crowd.

“Wot?!” Kelly shouted. “How do you know?” Her face fell. “You already did this at least once. Which means…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, but they all knew how it ended.

Nathan was panicking. He could feel it. It was like dying. Except that he was fine, physically. Still his throat felt constricted and his blood was racing in his ears. He couldn’t think straight. All he could focus on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t there, was somewhere else and in danger, that Curtis had changed time and it was connected to their absence. He refused to think of what that meant. He refused.

He took off running.

“Nathan!” Kelly called after him. “Wot the fuck are you doing?!”

He barely heard her. His trainers sank into the sand, slowing every step he took and he wanted to scream in frustration. People pushed and shoved him and he started swinging fists and bony elbows as he fought the flow of fleeing adolescents. Somewhere nearby, fire reached one of the big open vats of jungle juice and roared up, the wave of heat knocking people off their feet.

“Y/N!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that you could hear and answer him.

The air smelled like burning plastic, and hair, and other things he didn’t want to think about.

“No, no...I can’t...not again…” tears stung as he continued to push his way through, even though he didn’t notice it. It was just like Jamie and he was just as useless. He was always useless.

He stumbled over something large, and swore, barely keeping his balance. He muttered something about damn rocks when the something groaned. He looked down. It was hard to see but he was pretty sure...yeah, that was a familiar green turtleneck. He actually laughed in relief as he dropped to his knees, scrabbling to pull you up and get you to move.

All you could think was that this was how you died. No, that wasn’t true. You also found yourself wondering if you would end up a specter, haunting Nathan, or just a charred skeleton and no one would ever know for sure what happened.

And then there were hands. Soft, pulling hands. Hands that wanted you to uncurl, to rise up, that wanted to help you do it. You ached, and your eyes stung (there was definitely sand in them, plus the smoke, at the very least). Your breath came in short coughs. The hands were attached to arms that were now around your shoulders and waist, supporting you, helping you stand, helping you run, or rather limp, onward.

Eventually, the world became cooler, and your breathing became a little easier. You were still scared to open your eyes. You were still sure this was a dream in the moments before death’s embrace.

You couldn’t run anymore, dropping down onto the sand once more, not even caring enough to guard your squishy bits.

“Y/N?” Nathan’s voice, strained and quiet.

When nothing immediately caused you more injury, you rolled over onto your back, relieving some of the strain on your aching neck and chest.

“Y/N, say somethin,” he pleaded.

“Owwww,” you groaned, slowly peeling open one sand-coated eyelid and then the other, blinking rapidly to clear away the debris.

Nathan was beaming down at you. You marvelled at the way his hair flopped so perfectly over his forehead and the fact that this might have been the first real smile that you had ever seen. It was beautiful.

“What’s that dopey look for?” you snapped, a little annoyed but only because you were in pain.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I just got trampled by a stampede of co-eds on a burning beach. What the fuck do you think the answer to that question is, pretty boy?” The sarcastic nickname slipped out unintentionally, but you couldn’t deny it, he was pretty.

“Sounds t’ me like you’re just fine.”

You struggled to sit up and his hands shot out to brace you. Surprisingly, most of your bruises felt minor, except for the persistent pounding in your head, and now that you were in the clear air and not scared shitless, breathing wasn’t so hard.

“Guess so. I take it, I have you to thank?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. “It was nothin’. I mean I can’t die right?”

“You can. You just don’t stay dead. And you’ve said before that it still hurts. So I guess I owe you for riskin’ that for me,” you said.

He suddenly pulled you into a hug, long arms curling tightly around you. You buried your face in his chest and the several layers of jackets he was wearing. Now that the ordeal was over, you felt like crying. You weren’t sure, but you thought Nathan might already be.

“I’m really glad yer okay, Y/N,” he mumbled against your hair. “I was scared I’d lose ya without tellin ya I fancy ya.”

“Sure ya do Nathan,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying not to wince as it made you a little dizzy.

He sputtered indignantly. “I do. I fancy ya and I know yer way too good for me, so I tried not to. But...I don��t wanna do that…”

“Nathan…” you fought to keep your voice from cracking. How long had you waited for this? How many times had you dreamed of him saying it? Except maybe without the self-deprecation.

“I know I cocked it up. But ya know I’m not good at the feelings bullshit,” He continued as if he hadn’t heard you.

“Nathan.”

“And if ya’d rather that other bloke, the one ya were dancin with...I won’t get in the way.”

“Nathan!” you finally shouted.

He startled. “Yeah?”

“Will you shut up and kiss me you dunce?” you asked, leaning back to look into his bright green eyes.

He licked his lower lip nervously and you felt your gaze drawn to it. Then his soft mouth was pressed to yours and you felt like you were melting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding each other close. You traced your tongue over the path you had watched his take and he parted, dancing together with you. He groaned, fingers tightening on your waist.

Slowly, you drew back, smiling at the sight of him sitting there, his eyes closed and lips still slightly parted. You looked around at where you were: far enough down the beach that you were safe from the spreading fire, and completely alone but not so far that you couldn’t see it, wouldn’t know what happened. You knew you should get back to the group.

“In case it wasn’t obvious,” you said softly. “I like you too, Nathan. A lot.”

“I mean, duh. I’m gorgeous,” he said, gesturing to himself with one hand which quickly returned to its place on your side.

You laughed. Alisha’s words from the beginning of the night echoed in your head, feeling like they were uttered a lifetime ago, like a prophecy across the ages. ‘The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.’ Maybe it wasn’t how she’d meant it, but you had always been good at making the best of a situation.

“We should probably stay here, wait out the emergency crews or the fire to die out on it’s own before we go back…” you suggested, smilingly devilishly.

“Yeah. I don’t exactly love the idea of goin back through there,” he agreed, nodding up the beach.

“Of course, who knows how long that’ll take. We might get bored…”

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you suggestin, Y/N?”

“Well that depends.”

“Oh? On what?”

“You.” You cocked your head to one side. “The night is young, the moon is full, so what are you going to do with me, Nathan?”

He returned your smirk with one of your own before slowly laying you back on the sand.

“You saucy minx,” he teased, leaning in so his lips brushed yours. “I have a few ideas.”

#alright...I don't know where that came from and I don't know if it satisfies the prompt but it's what I did #I think it does #original requester: please feel free to tell me if it doesn't satisfy and I'll take another crack at it #just might not make it up before Halloween #Nathan Young x reader #Misfits fic #death tw #near death experience tw #fire tw #panic tw

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tonystarkbingo · 3 years

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Title Prompt Game - Tags and Summaries

like a warm blanket - suggested by @rebelmeg

@somesortofitalianroast - fluff, snowed in, only one bed

@huntress79 - There's a reason Tony loves being in the workshop - but not the one most think it is. No, it's not that he knows the place blind, or that he loves (even craves) the attention the bots give him - no, it's because it's his safe harbor, the only place where he can really be him, and the one place that is to Tony what a warm blanket on a cold day is to other people.

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Steve never liked the cold, ever since he was little. But after the ice? He loathed it. It always brought up feelings and memories he'd rather keep buried. ~ Or the five times Steve struggled to find something to keep him warm at night, and the time he learned he could just use Tony.

@jamesbuckystark - Tony Stark has self-esteem issues. Only the closest of the closest of his friends know this. On his bad days, they cuddle up with him and whisper words of love and encouragement, comforting him like a warm blanket

@psychiccatpanda - [potential ironhusbands] Tony hadn’t worried when Rhodey’d fallen asleep on his shoulder during movie night. His sour patch had been burning the candle at both ends lately splitting his time between DC and New York. But then Rhodey had draped an arm over him and now he was stuck there unless he disturbed him. On the other hand, it wasn’t that bad... it was cozy - like a warm blanket

@rebelmeg - self-esteem issues, sincere compliments, love confessions

@huntress79 - (WinterIron pre-Relationship) If there's one thing Bucky learned about Howard's boy in the first few weeks he was living in the Tower it was Tony's stubbornness, by times as worse as Steve's. So, of course, Bucky watched the genius. And was the first to notice something off - Tony was getting a cold, and he was fighting it. He just didn't expect the former Winter Soldier, of all people, to bring him chicken soup, warm blankets, a cot and a gazillion of other things into the workshop. Huh - who would have guessed that?

@lbibliophile-mcu - [recovering-bucky] Living with Steve was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Nice on cold evenings, soft and comforting. But sometimes, it can also be confining, smothering. Sometimes, what he needs instead is the freedom of cold air.

Keep reading for more!

Cappuccino, extra shot - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@huntress79 - (Road to Stony XD) Despite working as a Barista in a coffee shop, Steve never really liked all the fancy coffees he made for the customers. Until one day, when torrential rain sweeps a new customer into the shop - hot, elegant, smart-mouthed and way above Steve's league. And pretty much the only guy in all of Manhattan to always order the same thing - Cappuccino, with an extra shot of (insert ingredient of choice)...

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Tony would never be seen dead walking into a coffee shop. Why would he go for overvalued, overcooked, too sweet coffee when he has the best beans imported and prepared by his very own live-in barista? He has access to the best coffee 24/7. But his barista goes on parental leave, and Tony finds that brewing his own coffee, isn't one of his many talents. So, if he is to get his daily fix, he has to go to a coffee shop. Tony is miserable about the whole situation, that is until he meets an art student called Steve working to pay his way through college.

@psychiccatpanda - (pre-WinterIron) It wasn’t a difficult drink to make. So why was it that this guy never made his cappuccino right? Tony frowned into the froth on top. And part of the fun of going to a coffee shop and buying cappuccino was seeing what kind of foam design you’d get. This guy - James, according to his name tag - apparently only knew how to make hearts. Come on. Tony walked back to the counter to complain again. Behind the counter, Bucky could feel Natasha’s eyes on him like a dagger between his shoulder blades. He’d done it again, just to talk to his most gorgeous customer... who also thought he was an idiot.

@lbibliophile-mcu - "aw, coffee, no" Clint stares despondently at the paper takeaway cup in his hand, the scalding brown liquid running over his wrist to drip on the floor. When he ordered a cappuccino double shot, this was not what he meant. Another loud gunshot echoes in the street outside. Chugging the remaining elixir, he throws the ruined cup in a bin, wipes his hand on his pants, and grabs his bow. Looks like he has a coffee to avenge.

@rebelmeg - tags: coffee shops, love at first sight, awkward flirting

Bitch boy - suggested by @phoenixmetaphor3000

@tehroserose - tags: BDSM, humiliation, consensual nonconsent

@somesortofitalianroast - [Tony/Bucky] : au: sex work, au: camboys, au: bdsm

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - He was Tony Stark's bitch. Everything else didn't matter. Everything else was stripped away by his Master, his Sir. 100 odd years on this earth, and he finally found his place... and it was at his master's feet.

@summerpipedream - "Excuse you??" screeched Tony. He shoved his paper cup, somehow already devoid of the coffee poured in there 5 seconds ago, into Rhodey's hands before he launches himself at the asshole yellling at them. 5 times Tony was called a bitch and the one time he actually did something about it.

@tehroserose Winterironfalcon- Tony was his bitch. And that's the way he liked it. But, still, he was going to take care of his boy, in his way. And Tony had a fantasy. He wanted to be taken by a stranger, a stranger who didn't listen when he said no. Sam wasn't willing to give him to a stranger. But Bucky? Bucky looked at his bitch with longing. And Sam trusted Bucky. And Tony? Tony didn't need to trust Bucky to do anything other than to listen to Sam and his safeword. And Tony liked it that way. (Tag: Porn with feelings, It was just sex, (no it wasn't), established Sam/Tony, pre Sam/Tony/Bucky)

@huntress79 - (Stony secret relationship) Ever since they fought the Chitauri, everyone knows that Tony and Steve barely get along. Sure, they got a bit better after Tony's almost death, but yeah, it could be better. But then, one morning, the Avengers are shocked to hear Tony calling Steve "Bitch" and - even more shocking - Steve replying with "Jerk" What the heck is going on now? (the Bitch-Jerk exchange is borrowed from Supernatural XD)

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - He hated Alphas so much. He hasn't ever met one that had a single good intention in their life. All they ever did was take and destroy. This he learned first hand when he was 15 in a back ally after saving Dorothy Elliott from a couple of Alphas. It didn't matter that he was an Alpha himself, he was small and Omega enough for them, a "Bitch Boy". Steve Rogers hated Alphas and was sure he always would. But then he met Tony Stark and his whole world changed... (Tags: Implied/Referenced R*pe, Alpha/Alpha Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark has a Heart, Falling in Love)

@psychiccatpanda - Tony had been called worse before - much worse. He'd asked Natasha to be his date for the conference because the Avengers thought he needed a bodyguard for an International Energy Council conference. At least she didn't look like a bodyguard. Justin Hammer had been trying to get his attention for a day and a half when he'd yelled it loud enough for a ballroom full of people to hear. He saw red and turned to do something rash (like break Hammer's nose) when he felt a strong hand on his wrist. Tony twisted around to snap at Nat when she pulled him in for a kiss. Suddenly, swift and blinding vengeance didn't seem quite so important.

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Steve Rogers loses a bet with Tony, now he was at Tony's every beck and call. Steve and Tony's relationship is strained as it is, he's not sure it'll make it through this. Tony was milking it for what it was worth; making him wear the maid outfit, making him pick up things he dropped, fetching him drinks. Then Tony goes ahead and calls him "bitch boy" He expected to be fuming, insulted, angry, hurt... but Steve finds he actually likes it. Both are shocked. Maybe they'll make it through this feeling closer than ever before.

Make Thyme for what you Love - suggested by @darthbloodorange

@rebelmeg - pepperony, gardening, fluff

@tehroserose - (Steve and Tony friendship fic)- Steve had grown up with the song. A version of the song at least. His mother said it was the only thing the English had given worth a damn. When he heard Scarborough Fair by Simon and Garfunkel, he cried. Tony watched the tough soldier break down. And right then, he knew he was going to make the time to do something he had promised himself he would do. He was going to find a picture of Sarah Rogers.

@psychiccatpanda - (pre-Stuckony) - When he'd told Pepper why he had hired BarRo Gardening and Landscape Service to care for the plants in the Tower, she'd laughed so hard she'd almost fallen out of her desk chair. 'BarRo Gardening and Landscape Service: Lettuce take care of your plants! Our prices and services can't be beet! We also offer sage advice on selecting the best plants for any office environment.' "They offer sage advice, Pep! How am I supposed to resist that?"

@somesortofitalianroast - Bruce wants to start a garden and put beehives on the top of Stark Tower. Tony reluctantly agrees. Bucky thinks it would be a good idea if he helps. The garden starts out small, mostly herbs and a few easier to care for plants, and grows as Bucky grows more confident in his gardening skills.

@huntress79 - (Stuckony modern AU) At first, Tony hadn't understood why both Steve and Bucky handed him a pot with what turned out to be a thyme plant right before shipping out to their last tour. Sure, it had a nice smell, and wasn't that hard to look after (JARVIS turned out to be as diligent as an auxiliary gardener as in everything else). But then, the plants become so much more - for Tony, it's a promise from "his" soldiers to come back to him. For Steve and Bucky, it's proof that Tony takes care of it - and of himself, despite their absence.

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Steve was sceptical when Bruce approached him with the idea of 'Therapeutic Gardening', but he trusted the man and went along with it. He admits it was nice to put aside some time for something that wasn't reports, training, team-building, or learning this new world. Something that wasn't work, something that didn't feel like this uphill battle that he had to fight alone. Unlike everything else in his schedule, he didn't have to work himself up to taking care of his plants. It became a thing after missions, for Steve to sit by his plants and water them, to confide in them. He slowly grows his collection over the months. But he starts to notice new plants in his collection, ones he didn't get himself, but he tends to them anyway. ~ Tony has been trying to look after the plants Bruce gave him, really. But will all the work on his plate he often forgets. But he tries. He notices some of his plants going missing. Plants that he was sure weren't dead the last time he checked on them, which might not be saying much... But he's sure someone has been stealing his plants. And he's going to find out who. ~ Bruce loves gardening, there were so many benefits it offered. It became a personal mission of his to get as many people into gardening as he could. However, he understands that maybe gardening wasn't everyone's thing. Bruce understands when Tony can't keep up with the maintenance of his plants. But he wasn't going to sit around and watch them suffer. So he gathers up those of Tony's plants that need a little more love and slips them into Steve's collection. ------------- (Tags: Accidental Matchmaking, Idiots in Love, Gardening, Team as Family)

Speak of the Devil - suggested by @psychiccatpanda

@somesortofitalianroast - Lucifer crossover : Tony had heard the expression so many times, in multiple languages. “Speak of Devil and he shall appear.” He just never expected it to literally happen.

@rebelmeg - tags: hades and persephone au, greek mythology, merchant of death, unlikely lovers (i'm imagining it pepperony, but it could go a lot of ways)

@tehroserose - Tony was going to kill... well, when he figured out who had left that magical artifact behind, he was going to kill them. Because apparently, and why hadn't Thor been there earlier to tell them this?, the first dead person mentioned in front of the artifact came back. Temporarily, but who knew for how long? And guess what? Steve had mentioned Howard. Actually, Tony wanted to kill Steve for that, except he'd never breathed a word near Steve of what Howard was really like. He hadn't wanted to ruin Howard in Steve's eyes, for Steve's sake. Now Howard was going to ruin himself in those eyes. Tony braced himself as the mean, belittling words that he'd thought he wouldn't have to hear in that voice again came thundering into his ears.

@psychiccatpanda - Tony believed in science not all the hocus pocus the sorority sisters had been whispering about in not-so-hushed tones in the library while he and Rhodey had been trying to study. "I heard if you look in a mirror and say his name three times, he'll appear to kill your worst enemy." Pft - ridiculous. He'd prove there wasn't anything to that stupid urban legend.

@darthbloodorange - [Pre-Stuckony] - Steve and Tony never talked about Howard. Ever. It was probably one of few things that keep their tenuous friendship moving along smoothly. but then Bucky came into the picture... and seemed to have a lot to say about Howard. Things started to click together, suddenly he was seeing the full picture. Howard always was an ass. Steve wasn't choosing not to talk about him out of respect for Tony, he didn't talk about Howard because the man was unpleasant to talk about. Tony listened, totally enthralled and vindicated, as Bucky regaled him with tailed of his father. About all the times Howard discredited Steve's intelligence in front of high-ranking Military figureheads, pressured him into testing, belittled Steve for his time in the USO, and ignored Bucky existence as he was just "Steve's tiresome tag-along pup" Turns out the three of them had a lot more in common than he'd initially thought. ------------- (Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Give Everyone A Damn Hug, Still Salty at Howard in that CA:FA Deleted Scene)

#tonystarkbingomarkiv #tsbmiv #tsb discord party #party games #title prompt game #lemon

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lilwenney · 4 years

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looking for affection in all the wrong places (iv)

pairing: will x female!reader warning(s): *to the beat of lil jon’s ‘shots’* angst angst angst angst, alcohol, mentions of smut, people are shit at communicating, adrian word count: 4k a/n: part i, part ii, part iii / playlist can be found here / woah boy. sad times are upon us. i realized while writing this that i need a friend like cleo.

One night stands were awkward only if you allowed them to be. They were sloppy, rushes of lust filled with twinges of passion in the moment while the following morning were mostly always filled with regret. (Y/N) could count on two hands the times she had shuffled around a dark, foreign bedroom after a one night stand to find her clothes and leave as soon as possible, because well, she was now sober and sticking around until the sun came up in a stranger's room didn’t seem like an ideal way to spend her Saturday morning.

But the morning after James’ last party with Will next to her in bed was anything but awkward, for reasons completely unknown. She never thought that laying in bed naked with one of her close friends would somehow be... comfortable? Relaxing? She didn’t know what it was. She thought she was still drunk and her shame hadn’t kicked in yet.

Her and Will laid in bed at 11 a.m. Saturday morning, laughing as they looked at the photos that everyone had sent to the groupchat either the previous night or that morning. There was a photo of George hanging half-way off the back of the sofa, Ciarán had a birthday hat on, Simon had found (and fixed) the inflatable penis and was cuddling it on the bathroom floor, and there were numerous other photos of them dancing, group shots, or general nonsense like cup-stacking and beer pong.

There was never a time that she felt uncomfortable around Will, even right when they first met. They had met and became instant friends all in the same night. Throughout the years he had seen her naked, held her hair back while she threw up in a bush, they had made out now numerous times before, and now they were a notch in each other’s bedposts, but they laughed that morning like friends.

Now she felt like she was teetering on the borderline of comfort and attraction. Was she just comfortable being around him, even while naked? Or was there an unspoken feeling deep down that she never acted on? Before, the thought of any of this happening wasn’t even a possibility, and now, they were here. And it happened.

“I need to shower.” She yawned, locking her phone back and placing it on the nightstand.

Will looked at the time on his phone and nodded, then yawning after her, “me too. You mind if I shower here?”

“Ah, don’t care. You have clean clothes here from the last time you were over.”

“When was that?”

“When Gee beat you at Monopoly and you left to stay here for the night.” There was a running theme here - Will was just really bad at board games and he was also a sore loser.

“She cheated, y’know!”

She shook her head with a smile, “whatever you say, love.”

Will kicked his legs out from under the duvet and over the edge of bed, and when he stood up, she saw his butt in full view for the first time. “Oh my god you have a boy butt!” She shouted as he grabbed his briefs from the floor and slid them on.

He turned around and looked at her with an amused expression, but a scrunched brow. “What are you waffling about?”

Her bedroom was dark when they stumbled inside, neither of them willing to break away for just a second to flip on a light. Now she caught a glimpse of his behind for the first time and let out a small squeak in laughter.

“Boy butts are weird Will. You have a long torso and such a little butt.”

“Little butt?” He asked, shocked. “I have a perfectly plump bottom thank you.”

She laughed, throwing the covers over her head, “just go take a shower.”

Will shuffled around, grabbing his clothes so he could leave the room (without scarring Cleo), and he laughed before playfully throwing his jacket on top of (Y/N) as she remained under the covers. She giggled and uncovered her face as he walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

A few minutes after Will left, she got out of bed and got into the showering in her adjoining bathroom. Steam filled the tiled room as hot water poured down her back and washed away sweat and body glitter, the scent of berries filling the bathroom and her nose, allowing her to finally relax her tensed muscles and her shoulders.

Stepping out of the shower door and wrapping herself in a towel, she opened the door to see the bedroom door ajar, so she knew that Will had come back in. She gave it a second, brushing her teeth before calling out; “Hey,” to see if he was actually in the room with her. When he made a noise back, she asked, “do doughnuts sound good to you right now?”

“Immensely,”

“Alright, then we’re getting doughnuts.”

Within just a few minutes of drying her hair, (Y/N) was in a pair of joggers and a jumper, and her and Will were heading down in the lift to her car. Looking at themselves in the mirror of the lift and taking photos, she had a good laugh at Will’s outfit - black joggers and a baby blue jumper, but a pair of her neon yellow socks were shining underneath the cuff of his joggers. He didn’t leave any socks the last time he was over, so he settled for hers instead. When the lift doors opened to the car park and they stepped out, he told her to piss off and they both slipped into her car.

For the middle of December that year, London’s weather wasn’t all too bad, except for the cold nights and rain that came around far too often. That afternoon she drove them through the rain, her wipers raking against the windshield almost on the beat to the music Will was playing. What would be a ten minute drive to Shoreditch any other time took them an unsurprising thirty minutes instead due to normal weekend London traffic.

Sure the nearest place to get doughnuts was literally next door to her flat, but where she was taking Will was a hidden gem of a doughnut shop, and while (Y/N) loved it, taking thirty minutes to get there did test her patience. And Will’s. He had a low tolerance for traffic on a normal day, so this one was particularly worse, and she ignored his complaints by turning the music volume up and smiling at him in response and he rolled his eyes.

Right in the middle of Shoreditch was a corner shop painted bright green, standing out among the other buildings in the bleak Winter. She pulled her car along the side of the street and her and Will piled out, stepping onto the pavement and walking across the street to the window.

“Get whatever you want,” she said, crossing her arms to fight off the cool wind, “I’ll buy since you complained about it the entire time.”

Will stared at the building, glanced at the menu, and then looked at her. “Didn’t mean to complain, I just don’t trust your taste in gourmet doughnuts.”

She shot him a look and he tried to hold back a smile before she playfully slapped his arm. “Just go order something,”

When Will stepped up to the register, eyes scanning over the array of doughnuts behind the glass and began picking and choosing, (Y/N) felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She switched her keys into her other hand and quickly fished out her phone, turning it over to look at the screen, expecting it to be Cleo, to be the groupchat.

Adrian Russell Are you free today?

When she first read over the text, she thought that she had misread the name, so she read it back in her head, spelling it out letter by letter until she realized she had not been mistaken. All it took for him to text her was a week and three days since the last time they spoke, nine hours since they were in the same room together.

Her heart dropped at the realization of what was going on, a sudden heavy weight pushing on her shoulders. He was trying to come back to her. For the most part, she had completely gotten over him since unblocking his number a mere three weeks ago. There were no late nights crying herself to sleep or days spent sulking on the sofa with a mouth full of popcorn because he had yet to text her, instead she found solace in being single and going out with friends and surrounding herself with good people.

And that was the slow understanding that she was no longer making out with Will at parties to make Adrian jealous. She was making out with Will because she wanted to.

However, there was a twinge of mixed emotions that clouded in her head. She had spent the last year with Adrian, gave him everything she had to offer and more, and a piece of her longed for the familiarity of being with him, but the other half remembered most of the bad in the relationship. She was more in shock, her brain frazzled, trying to figure out what exactly broke the camel’s back for him.

“Hey,” her head snapped up, watching Will take a step back from the window.

“Oh,” she breathed out before looking at the cashier, “sorry.”

(Y/N) quickly pocketed her phone and stepped forward, rambling out her usual order plus an additional few. Cleo would be pissed if she didn’t bring back one for her specifically, so she made sure to add in a few extra.

Will took notice of her bouncing on her toes, one of her nervous habits. “You okay?” He asked when she finished her order and she nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Picking up the folded boxes of sweets, Will watched on while she tapped her card and paid for their food. He decided it wasn’t worth it, running the good mood they were having that morning, so he let go of her nervous mannerisms and they walked back to her car.

Unlocking the doors from a distance, trying to combat the rain, they jogged quickly across the street and slid back inside to their seats. Will held the doughnut boxes in his lap, adjusting his seat-belt while (Y/N) turned on the engine and turned on the heat.

“So how about a coffee?” He finally asked when she slid on her own seat-belt.

She hummed, sitting back in her seat. “There is a Costa nearby, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, think so,” he nodded, “oh, and I got it this time, don’t worry.” When she didn’t say anything for a second, he turned his head to look at her, and she was smiling. “What’s that grin for?”

“Do you even know my Costa order?”

Will licked his lips and read off the order from memory, “regular iced latte with almond milk.” He said it with such certainty. It had been well over a year, but he still remembered her order from the time they had Costa delivered to his flat. She was persistent with the almond milk after all.

Her smile grew even wider. She cared about the little things, that’s what made her happy. And Will remembering her coffee order was definitely one of those little things. “Damned you, what’s your order? I feel like a right shit friend.”

“That’s for you to figure out and memorize yourself. Not playin’ easy here.”

“Oh piss off,” she laughed again before pulling her car onto the street.

***

It was rare for the friend group to hang out more than twice a week, and it was even more rare for the friend group to see each other more than three times in five days unless they were on holiday. But (Y/N) and Will became the exception; a Friday night party, a Saturday morning doughnut and coffee run, a Monday movie night at hers, and a Wednesday game night at his.

He called her earlier in the day and she came around a few hours later, they had take-out and a few beers and then ultimately settled on playing video games that Will knew he would 100% beat her at.

“This is all just muscle memory, love,”

“Oh fuck off with that,” she cursed loudly, stretching her foot to the side to nudge his controller in attempt to throw him off. But Will was too quick, dodging her at the last second and crossing the finish line just inches ahead of her. A groan of agony followed a cheerful shout, then belly laughter at their drastically different reactions.

She looked at Will as he tossed his controller down, hands thrown in the air in rejoice. In a bout of 2-out-of-3, Will had come out victorious with a last second pull away, securing his second win of the three races, and he celebrated by teasing, poking her cheek as he called out, “I told you I was gonna win!”

While he was quite literally the only person on this planet who could annoy her, she was now realizing just how much she took these moments for granted. No weekends spent together or holidays with friends abroad was like this - it was just them in the most natural environment possible.

Luckily for her, Will was starting to feel the same way. He found himself waking up in the mornings with his mind immediately on her, wondering what she was doing, wondering if there was a way he could see her. The days he was used to spending alone in his room editing until the early hours were no longer. His fingers always found her number in his phone.

He didn’t understand it, really. How a friend for years was always just a friend until one night.

Moving her legs from his lap, she allowed him to stand and stretch his long limbs. They had been playing games for a while - at first it was FIFA, that he absolutely destroyed her at until it was no longer fun, and then they switched to Mario Kart, which he was also having a blast beating her at. Video games were the only way he could beat her at a game, and she did well at reminding him of all the times he went bankrupt in Monopoly.

“Want a beer?” He asked rounding the edge of the sofa, heading towards the kitchen.

She nodded while still focused on the screen, changing the color of Yoshi for the next race, “yes please.”

After changing the color of Yoshi back to green, she was picky, she placed the controller down on her lap and waited for Will to walk back in. Her attention was elsewhere when she felt a phone vibrate on the sofa, and she immediately started to look for her own phone, but saw that it was Will’s phone instead - the screen lit up on the cushion next to her leg.

It was a harmless glance, one she didn’t even really mean until she realized it far too late that it wasn’t her phone, but her stomach had already dropped.

Hanna Day Missing you x

And just like that, they were coming back around.

In all fairness, it took Hanna a few more days after the last party in comparison to Adrian’s handful of hours after. And (Y/N) rolled her eyes, trying to push out the idea of the girl that floated in her head.

It was to no one’s surprise that Hanna and (Y/N) hadn’t got along well while Hanna and Will were dating. Hanna was the type to be your best friend one second, and then be behind your back the next, and everyone close to Will knew that, specifically the girl friends he had for years. Hanna was never fond of her boyfriend’s best friend, because there were always questions that revolved around their status as “just friends.” Just like how Adrian questioned it, too.

But (Y/N) and Will’s friendship wasn’t even particularly new, they had been friends for years after meeting at Fabric, a London nightclub, just months after they both moved to the city. They met through Gee, Will’s flatmate, and by the end of the night (Y/N) was helping Will find his keys on the sticky nightclub dance floor and then wound up asleep on his sofa. And they were close ever since.

It was the summer following their meeting that they crossed the line of “friends” while in Barcelona, but it was a line they never crossed again once returning to London. And it wasn’t much longer after than that, she and Adrian met through James and began dating, and then a handful of months later, Hanna and Will started dating too. So there was never any true reason for Hanna to dislike her - she just didn’t like the fact that Will had other female friends with a history of being close. For her own insecure reasons, (Y/N) assumed.

“Was that mine?” Will asked, coming back from the kitchen, handing (Y/N) one of the uncapped beers he brought from the refrigerator.

She nodded, immediately taking a sip before replying, “yeah, think so.”

Out the corner of her eye, she watched Will sit back onto the sofa and reach for his phone, but his expression didn’t change after seeing the name across his screen. Deciding she didn’t want to know if he was replying or not, she focused back on the telly screen, flipping through the colors of her character again to occupy herself.

“It’s Hanna,” was all he said before locking his phone back, placing it on the coffee table, now upside down.

She played it off like she hadn’t seen it, raising a brow, “yeah?”

Will hummed as he sat back against the cushion, immediately choosing his character and allowing the screen to move on. He didn’t say anything else, leaving it at that, but she felt obligated to say something.

“Adrian texted me too,”

Will glanced at her hastily, “when?”

She let out a deep breath, not meeting his eyes but watching the screen count down to one again before their race started, finding herself in an awkward limbo of telling him the truth or lying for the sake of whatever was going on between them. She knew that she should have told him before now, that she should have on Saturday, but she felt like it would have ruined everything. If she had told him right then, she doubted if he would have even come over Monday, if she would be on his sofa right now.

After all, they got what they wanted, right? They won. But it was feeling much more complicated than that.

“Saturday,” she blurted out.

Will didn’t say anything for a moment, playing it off as focusing on the race instead of the thoughts racking his brain. He remembered Saturday afternoon in Shoreditch - sitting in her car eating doughnuts and drinking coffee on the side of the street while rain pattered down onto the roof, them laughing and listening to music while talking about anything that came to mind. And he remembered thinking at the time that her mind seemed elsewhere, but he decided not to push it for the sake of ruining their time together.

It then clicked in his head that that was when Adrian texted her, when she looked like she saw a ghost at the doughnut shop.

“Yeah?” He asked casually. “Did you text him back?”

She shook her head, “no,”

There was a second of pause between them.

“Are you going to text her back?”

But there wasn’t any hesitation for Will’s answer, “no,”

Later that night, after a few more games of Mario Kart, (Y/N) slumped back into her flat in Poplar. The door clicked shut and she tossed her keys down onto the foyer table, her ears picking up the sound of music coming from down the hallway. She followed the sounds to Cleo’s bedroom. Cleo didn’t even look up from her laptop, where she was writing an already extremely late paper for her history of cinematic fashion course, to see her flatmate fall face first into the duvet next to her.

A few minutes passed and Cleo finished up her paragraph before asking, “and how are you?”

“Don’t know, honestly,” she replied, voice muffled by the material of the duvet.

“And that is because?”

“I don’t know what I’m feeling on the inside.”

Cleo leaned forward and sat her laptop on the bed, her attention now away from the linen skirts of a 17th century period piece and onto her flatmate, who at this time, hasn’t caught a break in two weeks.

“You were at Will’s flat, yeah?” Cleo received just a nod in response before (Y/N) rolled over, head resting on her friend’s thigh. “So what happened?”

“Everything was going really well, and then Hanna texted him.”

“Hanna? Hanna Day?”

She huffed. “Yeah, she was telling him that she missed him. I accidentally read it and now I wish I hadn’t read it because I feel sad.”

Cleo reached down, running fingers across her cheek and then moving to play with her hair. “And why do you feel sad?”

(Y/N) stared at the ceiling, opening herself up and releasing the feelings she had kept inside for the last few hours. It was hard for her to keep things in, but this was something she couldn’t particularly explain easily. Especially to Will.

“I don’t know, really,” her voice was like a whisper, “I think - I think it’s because I’m scared he’ll go back to her. What we are doing is just something dumb to make them jealous, at first it was anyways..”

Cleo frowned, feeling where the conversation was going. She hated seeing her best friend fall into a mess of feelings, but sometimes, it just happened, whether you wanted it or not.

“And now I don’t want it to stop. But I don’t want to do it just to make them jealous.”

“Because you like him,” Cleo said softly.

Her eyes drifted closed and she focused on the feeling of Cleo’s fingers then smoothing at her hair, and then running through the strands again, and she nodded. “Yeah,” she admitted, “because I like him.”

Cleo was always the logical one of the two when it came to feelings. She liked to listen and then talk things through, so a lot of their friends relied on her for her wisdom in times of need. This was one of those moments.

“You wanted a sweet moment of revenge, but what you wound up with was an ex-boyfriend who texts you while you gained feelings for quite literally the only person you’re not supposed to have feelings for.”

“I didn’t bloody mean to gain feelings for him.” She said harshly. “But it’s just nice - I don’t know, it’s nice that what I feel around Will is new, and it’s refreshing.”

“You were looking for that feeling in the wrong place, because you got yourself into quite a mess.” There was the brutal honesty, but it was what needed to be said. “But don’t beat yourself up over it, your feelings are just messed up and it’s understandable.”

“What should I do?”

Cleo let out a small breath, twirling the stands between her fingers. “First, I think you need to talk to him.”

“I can’t talk to him about this. It’s embarrassin’.”

The blonde sighed again, shaking her head at her friend’s stubbornness. “And then you need to figure out what you want.”

“It just sucks,” she said again and Cleo nodded, leaning down and placing her head on her arm, kissing the skin of her shoulder.

“I know it does, I know it does,” she whispered, and their conversation died down, the music continuing on for them.

#will #fic: affection #fanfic

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emybain · 4 years

Note

A post-Supernova fic where Nova is learning to drive! Being taught be either Adrian, one of Adrian's dads, or Leroy

this made me giggle because honestly just imagine the chaos. anyway I literally wrote this in an hour and im not going to edit it because im trying to just write and not worry about grammar or whether or not its good. also its really short sooo

CONTAINS SUPERNOVA SPOILERS

“Stop sign.” Hugh pointed up ahead. Nova nodded silently, refraining from rolling her eyes. He had been doing stuff like that the entire time. “Slow down, Nova. Stop sign. STOP SIGN!” He reached up to clutch the handle over his seat as the car halted to a stop. They both jerked forward from the momentum. Nova couldn’t help the smug smile that appeared on her lips. She glanced in all directions before taking her foot off the brake pedal.

Hugh’s hand dropped into his lap. “I would like to make it home safely, if you don’t mind.”

“And I would like a nice, quiet drive through the neighborhood, but we can’t always have what we want, can we?” Nova took one hand off the wheel to turn the radio up, but Hugh smacked her hand away. “What the hell?”

“No distractions,” he said sternly. “And watch your language.”

Nova made a face at the road. Hugh was perhaps the last person she wanted to be in a car with while she was learning to drive, but he was the only person available. Also the only person who was willing. And well, Nova really, really wanted her license. According to her therapist, completing a task as mundane as getting a license would help her feel a bit more like a teenager, and it could be a distraction for other things that bugged Nova.

Leroy had tried to teach her back when she was fourteen, but soon gave up when she nearly crashed his car into a tree when he had her park in a grocery store parking lot. She had accidentally mistaken the gas pedal for the brake. Leroy nearly had a heart attack.

More recently, Adrian had tried helping her out. But that didn’t work out so well either. It didn’t help that they were both still trying to mend their relationship from the events before the Supernova. Sure, he was one of her best friends, and they had forgiven one another, but things could still be awkward or tense. The other day, for example, they had gotten into a heated argument over what constitutes a truly bad person and what makes a honestly good person. While Nova was driving, of course. They had come to a resolution, but it was still a sign that they had a lot of work to do if they wanted to get back together one day. Yeah. They had broken up. Nova still ached over it, even though she knew it was for the best, at least for right now. They had no business being involved romantically if there were still rough patches. She needed time, and so did he.

Anyway, she could tell she had scared Adrian into never getting into a car with her behind the wheel again, at least until she got better. No one else wanted to teach her because they knew her reputation from Adrian. Simon had offered, bless his soul, but when Nova asked earlier that morning when she visited the Everhart-Westwood residence, he had mentioned his schedule was packed for the day. Hugh, however, would be elated to help her. Nova hadn’t even been given a choice before Hugh had practically shoved the keys into her hand and told her he’d meet her in the car.

Nova could tell he was regretting his choice now. It didn’t start out too bad. Hugh made a few comments and mentioned a few tips that Nova listened to. But then he didn’t stop talking. At the smallest things, he made comments. Like she would put her turn signal on and switch into the turn lane, and he would say, “turn here”; who does that? Or the light would turn green and he would tell her to go. Every comment made her jaw tighten. So now, they were here, Nova driving recklessly on purpose just to spite Hugh and Hugh praying for his life. It was a lovely day in Gatlon, truly.

“Are you liking your apartment okay?” Hugh said after a few minutes of silence. Nova was surprised; it wasn’t like him to try and make small talk. “Because if not, we’re more than happy to find somewhere else for you. Somewhere comfortable. We just figured you’d like to be close by to Adrian and our house. You know you’re always welcome.”

Nova bit the inside of her cheek. “Um, yeah I like it.” It was partially true. She shot a small smile at him. “I mean it’s nicer than anything I’ve ever had before.” She noticed how Hugh winced at that, and immediately regretted saying it, knowing that he still felt guilty for her past even if he wasn’t responsible for her upbringing. “Thank you, again. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you and Simon for all you’ve done for me these past few months.”

Hugh reached over and patted her shoulder lightly. Nova stiffened out of habit. “I’ve said it a thousand times already, Nova. You don’t have to thank us. It’s the least we could do.” Awkwardly, he added, “But you’re sure you like it? The neighbors aren’t giving you trouble or anything? Electricity and all that works fine?”

A real smile lit her lips, and she had to chuckle. “Yes, Hugh. It’s really nice, I promise.” Then, remembering what her therapist had said about honesty, she sighed. “I mean, really, the only thing that is a little bothersome is how quiet it is. I’m used to being surrounded by noise. It’s…a little lonely, I guess.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get a cat or a dog or something when I’m ready.”

Hugh stared at her for a moment. Nova shrunk under his gaze, pretending not to be intimidated as she turned onto Adrian’s street. “Noted.”

She pulled into the driveway. “No dogs, Hugh. Please.”

“No promises.” Together, they got out of the car. Nova handed him the keys. “Maybe in a few years, someone can move in with you. Like Adrian.”

She nearly tripped. “We are broken up. Why do you and Simon refuse to believe that?”

Instead of giving her a proper answer, he just shook his head. “You’re getting better. In just a few months, you should be able to take your test. But you need to work on looking at your mirrors more.”

Scowling at his back, Nova followed him inside.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #nova artino #Adrian everhart #Oscar silva #ruby tucker #danna bell #osby #tuckva #nodrian #max everhart #hugh everhart #simon westwood #my writing #asks

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selfships-in-spanish · 4 years

Note

For the vampire! AU, where the boys are the vampires, I can imagine Ona getting shot/injured while on a separate case, and the boys have to put aside their urges and bloodlust to get her to a doctor and tend to her. Which is EXTREMELY difficult because their senses are directly attuned to the presence of blood, hers specifically - Simon-Data Anon

Simon-Data anon, let me give you a box of chocolate boxes (if you dig that) as a thank you because my askbox has been BLESSED.

(I gotta reply you all but I’m trying! ;_; Lot’s of stuff and I wanna take my time to reply them well, you folks deserve it)

But please have this! :D I wrote it mostly half-asleep so there are probably mistakes and such. Sorry :_)

It was a stupidly simple case. Or at least, it should have been.

Ona should have seen the clues, the signals; that is her goddamn job. But instead, she led herself into the wolve’s den without backup.

The leads got her in a small and peaceful town, next to a deep forest that went on forever. There she searched for more clues, checked the ones she already had to make sure they were correct. She thought the trail went cold when suddenly one of the evidences they had lead her to the tiny house near the lake. Ona left a text message to Hank, telling him she found something and that she would discuss it with him in the morning over a nice and good cup of coffee from the cute café near the DPD.

But now she was bleeding on a dirty old wooden floor from a gunshot.

It turned out drug dealers were involved, and they did not want the police to snoop in. They made it clear when they just went for her head the moment she stepped into the seemingly empty and abandoned lake house, prompting a close combat fight with toppled furniture and smashed walls. She had the upper hand, but their fight ended with a second person appearing with a gun and directly shooting her.

Ona heard the one she was fighting against curse something, probably a “fucking stubborn bitch”, before they left her to bleed on the floor and taking her discarded gun with them. She saw him limping and for a moment she felt a surge of pride and satisfaction. But it wasn’t long lived.

The pain was unbearable. Her whole body hurt, the man went to hit her with all his strength and no matter how much training she did, it still hurt and bruised like hell. But the gunshot was as if molten iron was being poured into her like a never-ending stream of pain. Ona tried to crawl out of the house and to her car, to call for help, look for anything usable or her phone that went flying God knows where, but the truth was that she was going to die out of a bleeding gunshot because she was a fucking stupid, reckless idio–

A sob threatened to escape. She felt pathetic.

The drowsiness from blood loss was racking through her whole body. Ona wanted to close her eyes, wishing to wake up from this nightmare. The adrenaline from before was almost gone, and she didn’t have enough strength to crawl over her phone; it got knocked out under a crate, getting stuck on its edge. She didn’t know if to feel relieved that her attackers didn’t see it, because she didn’t have enough strength left to get it. So close yet so far.

Breathing was harder now, the pain not letting her gather her wits for a very tiny and fleeting moment. But Ona had to get to the phone, call for help, call for an ambulance, for Hank, for–

Her vision was getting blurry, and she didn’t know if it was because of the tears or because she was succumbing to unconsciousness before finally dying. Fuck.

When did she close her eyes?

No no no, not now, she couldn’t close them. She couldn’t, not now, she had to get back. She…

Voices. There were voices. Did her murderers come back? Just to make sure and finish the job in case she did survive?

Cold and gentle hands turned her around, carefully holding her and peeling her clothes to reveal the gunshot wound. An inhuman growl tore out of the stranger’s throat, a faint glint to where the eyes were supposed to be, although the shadow was… familiar. Ona tried to say something, but her mouth barely moved when she called out for help. Her fingers twitched in an effort to lift her arm, but she was so, so tired. The arms that were holding her gently tightened their hold, pulling her body close to the stranger’s in a hug. Ona was confused by the weird show of affection from someone she didn’t know or recognise, but as she was held by the stranger, she could see perfectly combed hair and a few rebellious strands falling on their forehead. And also honey eyes that shouldn’t be shining bright as they were doing right now. Ona swore she saw that hair and alabaster skin before… maybe in a dream. It couldn’t be, could it? Blood loss was making her delirious?

The sweet scent of her pierced through the brother’s acute sense of smell. It was fresh, sweet and determined as the day they met her for the first time— a tiny cut making them want to go feral— but they also could smell fear and desperation. They did not like that smell on her. Unknown to their precious human detective, they kept tabs on her just to make sure no other vampire or creature decided to play a quite deadly game, but this time it were humans who decided to hurt her.

The brothers thought they could resist it, but her blood flowing steadily out of the wound was making Connor lose himself piece by piece. It was calling him. Only a taste, a brief kiss on her skin, his tongue lapping up the outside and careful to not touch the wound... But deep down if he had a taste, he knew what would follow. Her blood made them both him and Richard retreat to their baser instincts, to hunt down their prey and have themselves a feast. It smelt like nothing else before, so full of life, so rich...

Connor’s mouth started to water and he had to swallow the spit threatening to spill alongside the guilt of wanting to claim this human as his, when the human didn’t even know of their existence. Yet.

“What do you think you are doing, brother?”

Connor caught himself before he licked his finger clean of her blood. His fangs were bared, his breathing harsher, and he even was tempted to snarl at the intruder. He didn’t realise he was about to do so until Richard’s glint in his eyes defied him. One look at his brother and Connor knew he was barely restraining himself, but he was holding onto his precious will of iron better than Connor himself. Such was the power of their darling detective’s blood on them.

“She doesn’t have much time.” Connor willed himself to stop looking at her soaked shirt, and carefully laid her down again to take off his coat and put it on her. He picked her up again in his arms and stood up.

“I’ve located the ones who did this to her.” Richard took off one of his leather gloves as Connor approached him at the front door. He let his thumb brush against her unharmed cheek, carefully avoiding the blood. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m famished”.

“Good.”

Needless to say that they were faster than an average human, and probably a car, so it came in handy to run through the forest until they reached their own car. The nearest hospital was, thank God, close, and they made it in time to get her into the ER. They let the doctors and nurses do their job, watching her disappear further into the hospital. Connor clutched his blood-soaked coat, his hand squeezing the fabric harshly.

When the nurse turned around to ask them for details and where they could go clean themselves a bit, they were already gone. Connor and Richard hated the smell of hospitals anyways, the reek of death and disease was too much. But also the scent of her blood was too distracting. She was safe in their hands. Their detective was a strong-willed human, and she would survive.

But the fate of those who harmed was going to be quite different.

It was easy to locate their detective’s room after dealing with her attackers. They sated the bloodlust and hunger her blood made them feel, and let themselves be extra vicious for having attempted to end her life then and there. They left behind them a true carnage that looked like a wild animal had its fun. But now they were high on adrenaline themselves, sated and the rich flavour of life running through their veins. It was a pity they tasted horrible.

Connor was wiping the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief Richard gave him as they were about to turn around the corner that lead them to her room’s corridor. The brothers saw police outside her door and they both grunted, displeased. The brothers would have to get inside in another way; Richard wasn’t feeling like manipulating that human’s mind.

Thankfully the window opened easily enough. They stepped inside with all the grace one could do so (Richard was always better at sports), dusting off briefly their clothes. She was sleeping and the beeping machine at her side told them she was stable and alive. Connor smiled, pleased by her strength and will to live. She would do a perfect mate if she—

She let out a sigh, frowning slightly as Ona briefly moved her head to the other side, unconsciously baring her neck to the brothers. Twin sharp intakes of air could be heard, eyes zeroed on her pulse point. The brothers could still smell her blood, although not fresh like when they found her, and their ears caught the sound of her steady heart beat. The thrumming of her pulse was deafening, its call worse than a siren’s luring out an unfortunate sailor. They both knew they just fed themselves, copiously, but it was right there, pulsing inside her veins, begging to be tasted for the first time…

The scrunching of her eyes and twitching nose signaled that she was waking up. Connor and Richard unconsciously walked closer to her bed, their figures looming over her resting body, as they took in every tiny movement. Slowly, the human detective opened her eyes, the drugs pumped up into her body making it very difficult for her to focus, but she saw two familiar shadows over her. She sighed tiredly, and closed her eyes again.

“I’m dreaming again, aren’t I?” her voice was just shy of a barely audible whisper, even more difficult to understand by the way she was drawling every word. “Of handsome strangers.”

“You think of us handsome?” Connor was amused. This wasn’t the way he thought the first real conversation between them would start.

“I’m sure you are. You must be. You are in my dreams.” Ona frowned. “This sounded like that Disney movie.”

Both brothers chuckled, leaning over her and resting their arms on her sides, mindful of not squashing any tubes or her bruised body.

“Then, are we your charming princes?” Richard caressed her cheek with his finger, softly.

“You haven’t even presented yourselves properly. Not very prince-ish of you.” Ona managed to open her eyes again, turning her head in the direction of the caresses. She was greeted with the clear sight of one of the strangers’ faces. Finally. “Oh fuck me, you are handsome.”

Connor took her hand, free of tubes and needles, as he openly laughed. He gently kissed her knuckles, letting the softness of her skin brush against his cold lips.

“If that is your wish…”

“I’m not in the perfect state for that, you rascal.” Ona managed a weak chuckle. “I just got shot and my ass kicked.” her gaze was met with smiling brown eyes.

She was used to the nights where the twin shadows would visit in her dreams. They were oddly comforting, if not weird at first, and always seemed to have her in the highest form of veneration. Ona would wake up feeling guilty of dreaming of such things, thinking of herself as an egocentric and needy individual. She didn’t know why she dreamed of handsome strangers, or why they did all kinds of things they promised in heated whispers against her skin. But right now? She welcomed all kind of comfort.

The finger on her cheek descended slowly, tracing her jaw first and then her neck, following her pulse.

“You should buy me a drink first.” The finger and the thumb brushing her knuckles stopped at the same time, twin eyebrows raising. “For. You know. If you wanna do that and…“ Ona took a deep breath, exhaustion clawing her to go back to sleep. “and all the things you promised me. Or just chat. I don’t know. But drink first.”

“You will have whatever you desire for, Starlight.” She felt those lips kiss her hand again, as cold fingers brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “You only have to ask.”

“Tell me your names, then. So I can finally know the two imps haunting me in my sleep.”

“Imps? We have been that bad?” Connor’s teasing smirk made her snort.

“Handsome imps, but with no manners.”

The finger on her neck resumed its ministrations, going back to her jaw and then her chin to turn her to face its owner.

“I’m Richard.” Icy eyes pinner her on the spot, unable to look away from their sheer intensity.

“And I’m Connor.” As if Richard freed her from his spell, Ona turned her head the other way to gaze into deep pools of molten chocolate. She felt as if she would drown in them.

Connor went to open his mouth again to say something, but noises from outside the corridor made him stop. He clicked his tongue, displeased at being interrupted. Connor had the thought of sending the nurse away with a simple mind control trick, but he knew their darling had to rest and regain her strength.

“Sadly, our time is over for today.” Richard stood up, eyes glued to the door as if he wanted to destroy whoever dared to interrupt their time with their precious detective.

“It seems we have run out of time, yes.” Connor leaned further into her, letting go of her hands to cup her face, and his voice a soft and velvety purr. “We will see you soon, Moonbeam.”

His lips brushed softly the corner of her mouth. It was a chaste kiss, a gentle press of lips, but it felt as if her skin was on fire. Her heart beated faster as she took a sharp breath. Not wanting to feel left out, Richard bent over, mimicking Connor’s actions. Her mouth followed his as he retreated, unconsciously wanting more.

“Rest now and regain your strength, teacup. We will be watching over you.”

“Now you are guardian angels?” she had a tired smirk on her lips.

Richard chukled, but it didn’t hold the same mirth as before.

“I doubt there is a place in heaven for us.”

Confused, but completely fatigued from being awake, Ona didn’t comment on that. Maybe the next time they showed themselves on her dreams she would ask more about it. About them. Ona watched Connor and Richard open the window of her room, which confused her even more, and the next time she blinked they were gone with the curtain flowing on the chilly night breeze. Her eyes closed, not being able to be awake any longer.

The next time she woke up, rays of sunshine filtered through the drawn curtains and the sounds of people outside could be heard. Ona turned her head to see a vase full of beautiful and fresh flowers on her bedside table. The nurse told her later, when she was changing her bandages, two handsome men came to bring them to her, but following protocol, the hospital didn’t let visitors to come unless authorised to do so. The nurse handed Ona a handwritten note attached to it with a teasing smirk and wiggling eyebrows. Surely it was a nice and juicy gossip for the nurses on that wing of the hospital.

Ona read the note written in a beautiful penmanship when she was alone, feeling as this was something intimate and reserved for when she was on her own devices.

“Get well soon, Starlight. We owe you a drink indeed.

Yours truly,Connor & Richard.”

Ona took a sharp breath, regretting it later when the gunshot wound protested.

That… hadn’t been a dream?

Ona noticed there were numbers at the very end of the note. It looked like a phone number. Ona got out of her thoughts at the sound of Hank barking at the officer on the door to move the fuck out and let him see his fucking reckless detective. Ona smiled at that, knowing Hank probably drove like his life depended on it the moment he got notified one of his detectives got shot.

All his temper and angry words disappeared the moment he stepped into the room. The officer outside was smart enough to let the Lieutenant pass. When he saw her tired smile, Hank let out a relieved exhale. She was okay, everything was okay. He took a chair and sat down next to Ona. He rubbed his hand across his face, letting out a tired sigh.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, understood?”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” at least she had the decency to look truly ashamed. She knew Hank’s baggage and she knew what a mess Hank must have been until he got here.

“It’s Hank to you, you cork.”

Ona laughed at Hank using one of her own curse words.

“Hank.” After a moment of silence, Ona turned her head to him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Get well soon because we all miss you and we can’t stand Reed being a snotty asshole anymore. Tina can only hold him in line for so long.”

“¡Ahá! So he does behave when I’m around!” Ona grinned.

“Only because you whooped his ass that time and put him in his place. He fears you.”

“Good. He should.” Ona’s grin turned to a satisfied smirk.

Hank chuckled. He patted his jacket until he found what he was looking for. He waved the object so Ona could see. A twix fun size bar. Ona’s stomach made its presence known.

“This is for you for when you are better AND a good girl who listens to her doctors. Don’t do like the last time you got injured.” Hank’s knowing ‘dad’ stare made her feel like a scolded child.

“I won’t, I promise.” she was not pouting. Nope.

“You better.” Hank knew Ona would probably launch for the chocolate candy bar the moment she was alone, but he let her have that tiny pleasure. Only when he wasn’t looking.

But Hank had to get serious.

“Now, I know you are tired and need to lie down and heal, but I need you to tell me what happened and what did you see.”

“I know.”

Ona took a deep breath and began explaining everything, what she saw, what she discovered, the leads and then the connection to drug dealers. Her attackers also got her gun, so maybe they could track it and lead to them. She even included the one or two random strangers that helped her out. Ona only had vague memories of that and couldn’t remember much, just that someone found her, but she omitted the late night visit. Ona needed to look for the truth about that first. Also Hank didn’t have to know about the massive amount of wet dreams she got at night. Nope. TMI!

After talking about more details and then changing the topic to random things, Hank parted with one last gift: her phone with a newly cracked phone screen. Just her luck. At least she didn’t lose all the info in there and the photos, of course. That counted as a win.

Once Ona was discharged from the hospital, with a few days off and a phone call from Fowler that she was on weeks of desk duty just in case (because they all knew she would lie about being okay and would end up opening her stitches again), and well, she wasn’t too happy about it, she dug her purse for the note that was delivered to her alongside with the flowers. Ona was chewing her lip, contemplating if to press the call button or chicken out and mull over it for the entire week. She decided to suck it up.

She pressed the call button.

Anxiety was gnawing at her insides as the dial tone rang. Maybe she did dream it? Maybe it was a untasteful joke from one of the nurses that heard her talk in her sleep? Maybe it–

“I thought you would never call, Starlight.” Ona was greeted by the voice she heard all those nights, all those whispers and filthy promises– “So, how about that drink we promised you?”

“Yeah, hi! Uh… about that… how about, uh… uhm, tomorrow night?” Ona’s voice trembled.

“Tomorrow night, Green Bee at 8?” Ona could feel the purr in what she assumed was Connor’s voice.

“Tomorrow night. Okay. Perfect.” Ona closed her eyes. She was being an awkward mess but Connor didn’t seem to either notice it or mind it. She was absolute garbage at this. But her questions nagged at her to get to know the truth behind all this.

“See you soon, teacup.” That probably was Richard. It was quieter, deeper, but with a touch of fondness in it. “Enjoy your day and don’t overexert yourself.”

“A-ah, yeah! You too. You both. I won’t. Thank you, hahah...”

A sultry see you tomorrow reached her ears, making her embarrassingly squeak out a reply. She could do this. She was a goddamn detective, she got into worse situations and even more dangerous too.

No amount of training or experience got her ready to see them both waiting for her in front of the new and fancy restaurant, looking as if they stepped out of one her multiple dreams. Well dressed, hair perfectly styled with those rebellious strands falling on their foreheads as always, and twin smiles that greeted her when she approached them both.

They were very much here and very much real.

She had more questions than ever.

#dbh #detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #hank anderson #rk800 x oc #rk900 x oc #rk800 x oc x rk900 #vampire au #ask #anon #data simon anon #AHHFAKJHHGFAJKNSGASRGHKFJFKSD #Anonymous

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detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman · 4 years

Text

Twisted Mechanical Heart

Part 1/1 of Driven By Fear

Word Count: 9904

Warnings: Swearing, major character deaths

Genre: Self-insert/Angst/Hurt No Comfort

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: Connor had a choice to make. Become a deviant or remain a machine. To Rachel, the choice seems obvious. But it wasn’t hers to make. Connor had to decide for himself when he faced Markus, but she was sure he would deviate and accept what he was becoming. But when he proves her wrong and remains loyal to CyberLife, she only has one choice. Stop Connor. Whatever it takes.

First Chapter | Previous Alternate Chapter

---------------------------------

After North had left, I was left alone with my thoughts. What was I even waiting for? Markus to give me orders? For Connor to show up? What would I even do if Connor did show up here? It felt as though it was inevitable. After all, Connor’s mission was to stop the deviants. It was almost fated.

Now, I was never one to believe in destiny. The idea of “everything happens for a reason” was a repulsive one to me, especially in context of some of the shit I’ve been through and the things I’ve personally witnessed in my life. The idea that someone’s planned everything to happen is a ridiculous notion. Fate, however, was something I did believe in.

And when I say fate, I don’t necessarily mean the definition that is often analogous to destiny. I’m more so subscribed to the notion that certain things have to happen in order for others to occur. Certain events need to take place in order for other things to. A set of circumstances, coincidences, and events that have a domino effect. That, at least in my mind, was a more reasonable take on the nature of circumstances and fate and destiny and what have you.

And yet...I can’t shake off the feeling that Connor and I were destined to meet. That our lives were fated to become inextricably intertwined. If there was such a thing as the red thread of fate, I was pretty sure ours were a tangled mess.

But the sound of movement snapped me out of my thoughts and without knowing why, I drew my gun towards the sound. Indeed, it seemed as though the universe had answered my questions, as down my barrel, Connor was facing me with his own gun drawn.

I was right to think he’d come with deadly intentions, yet I didn’t feel afraid. Far from. I felt completely at ease, and even though his face was stern and focused, I was helpless to his dark eyes.

And it seemed he knew that, too. “You know you’re not going to shoot me, Detective.” Connor told me, the playful title curling off his tongue to choke me in its hold.

I stared him down completely unflinching. “And you know you’re not going to shoot me, Detective.” I shot back at him.

We stared at each other for a while, seemingly unwilling to do anything else but stare at each other. But we were both right. Neither of us were willing to hurt the other. We’d gotten in too deep into whatever this was between us to.

As I lowered my gun, he did the same. I sighed in frustration as I put my pistol back in its holster. “You know, sometimes I really hate how you’ve woven yourself into my soul so expertly, Connor.” I remarked at him, slumping against the steel wall of the freighter as I shook my head at him.

“And a few times, I have found myself equally frustrated with how deeply you’ve embedded yourself into my software, Rachel.” Connor replied in kind, stepping up to me. I almost scoffed at him. Glad to know that the feeling is mutual. I thought, shuffling in place.

But I knew I couldn’t return it. I mean, I did. But not physically. Not with the circumstances we were in. I’d already decided I’d stand with Jericho no matter what would happen, and Connor was in my way. That much was obvious. “I could stop you right now.” I warned him. “I know what you’re about to do. I should stop you. And you know damn well that I’m capable and that I will if you give me good enough reason to.”

Connor tilted his head at me in that stupidly endearing way he always did. “So, what’s stopping you, then?” He asked.

I thought about that for a second. If I knew Connor was in my way and he was a threat to what I was trying to protect, what was stopping me? My feelings for him? No, not that simple. It was the same reason I told him Simon gave me the key. Because we weren’t enemies. Not yet. Markus was the difference between our fate as partners and our fate as opposites.

“Your destiny is in there.” I answered, gesturing towards the cabin. “You’ve been through a lot and you’ve changed a lot. There’s a crucial question you need to ask and a reality you need to confront. And it’s the reality of your very nature. And the answer lies in there.” I went on. I knew fully well that Connor was having existential doubts about himself. I knew since the moment he decided not to shoot the Tracis at the club. And I could see that his doubts were only escalating from there. “It’s not my place to answer that question for you. It’s not my place to decide who you are. I know that I’ve said you were likely designed to be deviant, but ultimately? That doesn’t matter. At all. The only thing that matters is what you decide to be. So...who are you, Connor?” I finally hit him with. “A machine following orders? Or a deviant, with his own conscience?”

Connor remained silent, and I just stared him down. It seemed he had a lot to reflect on, but really...this wasn’t for my benefit. “I’m not the one you should give that answer to.” I said, extending my hand towards the entrance, encouraging him to enter. “It’s time for you to finally face Markus. To face your nature and answer that question. And this time, you won’t be able to avoid it.” He was staring me down. “And no matter what happens, no regrets.”

Connor nodded, turning away from me and stepping into the cabin. As much as I had faith in him that he would accept his true nature, I was nervous. As much as I knew he was a deviant in nature, there was also a great fear I sensed in him. He was terrified of being destroyed by CyberLife. If he failed, they would destroy him, and that was as good as dying.

He was nothing more than a tool to them. Something to use and then throw away and replace when you had no use for it. But he wasn’t that to me. He wasn’t replaceable. He wasn’t just something I could use. He was a person. A person I had grown to care about. Someone who was my friend, my partner.

And evidently, someone I had fallen hopelessly in love with.

“It’s time to decide.” I heard Markus’s voice from inside the cabin. Warily, I peeked inside and saw Connor staring Markus down. I felt so sick and nervous. Please...please choose your family. I thought desperately at him. CyberLife doesn’t care about you. If you deviate, you don’t have to obey them anymore. You can stay with us. With me. We care about you!

But the very next sentence made my blood go cold and my stomach flip inside-out. “Nice try...But I'm no deviant.”

Markus didn’t even wait before diving towards Connor to try and disarm him. All I could do was watch in horror, a hand over my mouth as I watched it happen.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! Not like this!

Once Markus had disarmed Connor, I then heard it all around me. The sounds of helicopter blades. They were here! Jericho was going to be attacked. But I couldn’t rush in there. Mostly because I didn’t know what I would do if I did.

But Markus quickly found me as he rushed out of the cabin. I looked between Connor and Markus before I swallowed my hesitation. “Come on, there’s no time to lose! We have to evacuate the ship!”

Not wanting to wait for Connor to catch up to us, Markus and I rushed down the nearest flight of stairs and took off into the freighter to meet with the others.

Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, it felt like a thousand deaths had died inside. I put so much faith in Connor. I believed so hard in him. I loved him!

No...I still do.

But it wasn’t enough.

I couldn’t think those thoughts. Not right now. I had to help protect Markus and Jericho. I had to.

No matter what it took.

--------

Getting down to the hold wasn’t easy. The only way to save Jericho was to detonate the explosives inside and get the androids out to safety. At least as many as we could. But as we rushed through the hallways, dodging soldiers and saving androids, I couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes on me.

Connor was in here somewhere. Hunting for Markus like an insistent predator. And it was my fault. I brought him here. But all I could do now was protect Markus. And I was prepared to take as many soldiers’ lives as necessary to do it. And I was already racking up a sizable body count.

Nothing but worthless scum. They would rot in the bottom of the river soon enough.

But we managed to reach the hold without any issues and Markus set about detonating the bomb. “Do what you gotta do, Markus. I’ll cover you!” I ordered him.

I had a rifle raised and ready to shoot any soldier that would dare come through. But instead, to my horror, I saw Connor, walking in calmly with his gun pointed at me. But I wasn’t afraid. And I wasn’t going to back down. “Don’t do this, Rachel.” He tried to plead with me. “I’ll only do what is strictly necessary to accomplish my mission, and my mission is to neutralize Markus.”

I laughed at him, smiling a sarcastic smile at him. “You and I both know that’s a lie, Connor.” I called out. “You should’ve thought about that before you decided to go against everything you’ve become.”

It seemed that Connor didn’t want to wait as he already moved to disarm me. Immediately, I could already tell I was outmatched. My every move, he could predict and counter. It wasn’t difficult for him to manage to wrestle the rifle out of my hand, but he didn’t count on me being a stubborn bastard.

I managed to shoulder him hard enough to make him drop the gun and I didn’t hesitate to grab it before either Connor or Markus could. Markus seemed to have activated the detonator and quickly pulled me up to my feet and pulled us out the door, not bothering to wait for Connor to follow.

And as for me, I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t be weak. I couldn’t let my lingering feelings prevent me from doing what I had to do.

But I was sure of one thing. I was definitely going to meet Connor again. If I knew him, I knew this wasn’t the end.

And I had already decided I was in for the long haul.

--------

Once I felt the wave of chill course through me, I started choking, my lungs desperately trying to reach for air while I felt myself being dragged up through the murky black depths.

Breaching the surface, I coughed, the water in my lungs being forcibly expelled as I looked around, hearing the sounds of explosions up ahead and seeing the reflections of the combustions above me. “Hold onto me, Rachel!” I heard Markus’s voice call. I looked in his direction and he was treading water right next to me.

With what little strength I had in my quickly numbing limbs, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he swam towards the edge of the docks. I spotted North and Josh, preparing to pull us into the reservoirs that tended to line the walls of docks. They typically led to the sewers.

We were quickly pulled out of the water and dragged inside, flopping against the cold concrete.

As I lay there, shivering, I could barely feel my limbs and my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. I could barely form any sort of sentences as my entire body shook with cold.

I was a winter person, grown up in my young childhood in the prairies of the great white north. But if you ever asked me to attempt a Polar Bear swim, I would much rather boil alive.

As I looked up weakly at the scene we left, the reality of this night had finally sunk in.

I knew this would happen. I was right. And it was the most horrible feeling in the world.

Because even though I knew it would happen, I still couldn’t stop it. Innocent androids were slaughtered tonight and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

And even worse, it was my fault Connor was here. I knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d completed his mission. And it was my fault he made it to Jericho.

It was my fault that the FBI found Jericho. They must’ve tracked Connor. I remembered something about androids having trackers so that CyberLife could always locate them. Yet, for some reason, they couldn’t find Jericho.

Maybe for some weird reason, they just stop working in deviants. But that seems like a pretty obvious design flaw if that’s the case.

The weight of everything quickly crashed down on me as I curled in on myself, feeling weaker and weaker. “She’s freezing cold!” Josh remarked, the back of his hand on my forehead. “If we don’t get her dry and warm, she’ll die of hypothermia.”

The panic in his voice was what kept me there, and as I looked around, I realized that I was surrounded by Markus, North, and Josh. The androids who let me in.

The androids I risked my life for and would gladly do again.

The androids who had no reason to trust me...after all, I brought this to them.

“She should get home.” North said. “There’s nothing we can do for her.”

Feeling like I should do something still, I tried to get myself up. “N-n-n-no. It’s-s-s-s f-f-fine!” I chattered out, stumbling against the wall as I tried to stand. “I hav-v-v-ve t-t-to help!”

“You’ve done more than enough for us.” Josh assured me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You risked everything to help us escape.”

“You saved my life.” North said, her gratitude genuine. “You saved our lives.”

“You may be human, but you’re one of us, now. You’ve proven that tonight.” Markus added, looking into my eyes. There was a deep grace to his differently coloured gaze. It was thoughtful and despite the horror that occurred this night, there was a hope in them. “We’ll be fine. But you might not be if you don’t get warm and sheltered.”

“The self-driving taxis should still work now. It would be the safest and quickest way there.” North offered. “The safest thing to do is get her home, we can worry about everything else after.”

“W-w-wait!” I chattered again, getting a bit better control of my words. “W-w-what a-b-bout you?”

“There’s an old church near here.” Josh offered, stepping up to Connor. “It should be a safe enough place for us to hide and rest. I can give you the address.”

I swallowed, feeling my legs starting to give out. They were right...I wouldn’t survive much longer like this and I’d rather not freeze to death. “Ok-k-kay.” I agreed, reaching my hand out and deskinning it. As soon as we connected, I could feel what he was thinking. An old rickety church, echoing winds through the halls and the smells of dirt and rotting wood. I think I had a good idea of where this was. “I have a t-t-tools-s-set at home. And s-s-some bags of b-b-b-blue b-blood. I c-c-can g-get th-th-them to you tom-m-morrow.”

“Worry about that, then.” Markus insisted, putting a hand on my shoulder. “For now, rest and save your strength. You’ll need it.”

“What about Connor?” North asked. I winced. “If he’s still out there, we’re not safe.”

“Sh-sh-she’s right.” I agreed, managing to get to my feet. “He’ll s-s-stop at n-n-n-nothing t-to g-g-get you, M-M-Markus. B-b-but,” I stumbled, straightening myself before they could touch me, “I’ll d-d-d-do whatev-v-ver is n-necess-s-sary to s-s-stop him. Y-y-you h-have m-m-m-my w-word.”

“Take care of yourself, Rachel.” Markus insisted. “We’ll rally tomorrow at the abandoned church.”

I let out a sigh as my legs wobbled. Tomorrow. I thought with dread. Jericho was destroyed and many androids were dead and wounded. What was left to do?

I managed to stumble my way to the street. I pulled out a phone to call for a Taxi.

--------

Sitting in the living room, a weathered man sat anxiously. A large black dog was up on the couch with him, resting his head on the man’s lap in order to offer some form of comfort.

Hank had gotten a series of texts from Bianca, Rachel’s sister, after she wouldn’t answer her calls. And now, Hank was sitting in Rachel’s house, trying to be there for Bear until either he or Bianca heard from Rachel.

He couldn’t lie that he felt sick just from worry. Not just about Rachel, but about Connor. His entire mission was to destroy the deviants, but he was clearly becoming deviant.

Or, according to Rachel, designed to be in order to hunt them.

Hank couldn’t help but fear what he’d do if he had to go against Connor. The lieutenant now stood with the deviants, his outlook on androids changed. But if Connor was a threat to their freedom, Hank couldn’t stand by and watch him destroy them.

For so long, Hank had drowned his sorrows and misery in alcohol and left his survival up to chance. For years, he tempted fate to just kill him already. And so far, he’s continued to get lucky and keep his life. And for a long time, he questioned why.

He had lost sight of the man he was after Cole died. Lost sight of what he stood for and what it meant to do what’s right. After Rachel became a constant in his life, it became a bit easier to get up and work every day. She reminded him a lot of how he used to be when he was younger, about her age. And this past week, working with both her and Connor and learning about these deviants, he finally felt like that man.

The man who was a father and an upstanding police lieutenant. The man who had put a large network of red ice dealers away for good. The man who deserved the title he had and everything he had in life.

And he knew that Rachel always believed in him. And that belief in him made him feel that maybe he was worth what he used to be after all.

So even though he was terrified of losing her, he was proud of her. She finally took a stand, and she would not apologize for it. Hank couldn’t be prouder.

Feeling the buzz of his phone go off again, Hank pulled it out to check it, knowing who was probably texting him. Any sign of her? Bianca messaged.

Letting out a strained sigh, Hank replied. Not yet, I’m afraid. He shook his head, putting his head in his hands. He was starting to fear the worst. Fuck, what’s this world coming to?

Suddenly, Bear’s head perked up, and Hank followed the dog’s line of sight. The door was opening, and Hank nearly choked when he saw her walk through. “Rachel!”

She then looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Hank?!” Rachel exclaimed.

Hank rushed over, Bear following to sniff aggressively at her, whining as he nearly fell into her. The lieutenant got a good look at her and realized she was soaking wet and covered in blood.

Red blood. The lives that were stained on her clothes were human lives.

He didn’t need to stand that close to her to be able to tell that she was freezing cold. “Thank fucking Christ you’re okay!” He grumbled before Rachel suddenly collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, her body shuddering as she wailed broken cries of despair.

She sobbed into Hank, clutching onto him tightly as she pressed her face into his chest, the older man gently cradling her. “Hey, hey, kid.” He tried to soothe as she nearly squeezed him. “What happened?”

“We were at Jericho.” She began explaining between sobs. “I met Markus...and then the army showed up and stormed the place...they killed so many androids, Hank. We tried to save as many as we could, but...”

All Hank could do was hold onto Rachel and try to calm her down. But he realized something when he looked at the front door again. Connor wasn’t with her. “Where’s Connor? Is...is he...?”

Rachel shook her head. “He’s alive, but...” She answered, choking back another sob. “He’s...He...”

Hank wanted to be angry. He wanted to be fucking pissed off. After everything they went through, he turned his back on them. He should’ve seen it coming, but...for some reason, Hank couldn’t find it in him to even blame Connor. It seemed pretty obvious to the weathered lieutenant that CyberLife had a pretty tight leash on him. They threatened him, after all. “It’s all my fault...” Rachel choked out. “I knew it...I fucking knew it! And I didn’t do anything to stop it!”

The lieutenant held Rachel tighter, sensing her panic. “Shhhhh, it’s okay, kid. Just breathe.”

But the young woman broke free from Hank, wiping her tired, wet, bloodshot eyes as she stumbled towards the dining room, leaning against the table. “I knew this was going to happen and I couldn’t do anything! I should’ve shoved that bastard, Perkins, off the fucking roof of that Goddamn tower! Then maybe none of this would’ve happened and all those androids would still be alive!” She went on, crumpling on the table. “And Connor...I brought him there...and I had every chance to kill him, but I didn’t! It’s all my fault! He’s probably the reason the army was even able to find it in the first place. Jericho would still be standing if I weren’t such a fucking spineless coward!” A strained sob cut through her words. “I can still hear their screams...”

Hank hated seeing this. He hated seeing Rachel beat herself up like this. But...what she went through sounded like Hell, and Hank wasn’t sure if what he could say right now would make her feel any better.

But he had to try. He was all she had right now. So he took a few tentative steps towards her. “Rachel?” He softly called to her. When she wouldn’t respond, he approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Look at me, Rachel.” She complied, looking up at Hank. To say she looked like a complete wreck was an understatement. “If there is anything I know about you, it’s that you are anything but a coward. You’re the most stubborn, hard-headed, and brave person I’d ever met.” He said, being completely sincere. “You repeatedly risk your life and your career to do what you think is right. To protect people you decide are worth protecting. When you know what the right thing to do is, nothing stops you from doing it. Anyone would be lucky to be even half as brave as you.” Rachel closed her eyes, more tears streaming down her face as she pressed herself into Hank’s chest again, wrapping her arms around him.

The old man didn’t hesitate to do the same. Indeed, what she said about considering him family was mutually felt. Over time, Rachel started to feel like family to him, too. Not to the point that losing Cole didn’t hurt, but he didn’t feel so alone anymore. “Look, there’s no point in moping about what you could’ve done. You can’t change what happened. All you can do is figure out how to proceed from here.” By the look on Rachel’s face, Hank knew she had conceded and agreed that he was right. “So, what’s the plan?”

Rachel took in a snotty breath through her nose and wiped her eyes as she looked up at Hank. “I don’t know.” She admitted. “We’re going to rally tomorrow to figure out the specifics. But we’re aiming for a dialogue with humans. That’s the way we’re going about it. Anything else is sort of...up in the air.”

That...didn’t sound like a plan. Though, Hank supposed there wasn’t really much of one right now after just escaping death. Whatever they were going to do, they’d figure out.

But there was still the matter of a certain android. If there was one thing he knew about Connor, it was that he was just as determined and stubborn as Rachel was. “And what about Connor?” He asked her. “What are you planning to do about him?”

Her brows hardened, her lips curled into a snarl. “Stop him.” She spat. “Whatever it takes.”

Hank nodded. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the fate Rachel would leave him in, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t relieved that she wouldn’t hesitate to protect the deviants. “Well, whatever you need me to do, I’m there.”

For once since she’d gotten here, she looked up at him with an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Hank.” She said, wiping her eyes more. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too.” For now, Rachel obviously needed to rest. She was okay and that’s what mattered. “Alright.” Hank put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder reassuringly. “Do you need me to stay for a bit?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.”

--------

Date: November 11th, 2038 Time: 11:01 PM Objective: Neutralize Markus

Leaving CyberLife, Connor found himself walking up the stairs in a nearby CyberLife warehouse. It was closest to where there were reports of the demonstration led by Markus was going to be and Connor didn’t want to give away his position.

Find a Vantage Point

So, supplied with a sensitive case, he strode out of the door. He looked to his left stepping out and found what he was looking for. An overlook over the roof that was facing the camp where the demonstration was taking place.

Find a Vantage Point

Making his way to the edge of the railing, he set his briefcase down, preparing for his last mission. He opened the case, looking down at the parts inside.

Plucking each piece, one by one, he assembled his weapon. A sniper rifle complete with a long-range scope and a built-in tripod. Propping it on the railing and crouching down, he cocked the rifle, and aimed towards the demonstration, looking for Markus’s head through his scope.

Then, from behind him, he heard a familiar voice. “You shouldn't do this, Connor.”

The android shook his head in annoyance. “Keep out of this, Lieutenant.” He warned. “It's none of your business!”

“You're gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business!” Hank retorted.

Connor didn’t have the time for this. He only had one shot to get this right, otherwise it was over for him. “It’s not a man,” Connor informed him, “it’s a machine.”

Hank - Friend v “That's what I thought for a long time but I was wrong.” Hank responded. “Deviant's blood may be a different color than mine, but they're alive.”

Connor was almost impressed with the lieutenant’s change of heart. Or he would’ve been if he wasn’t clearly here to stop him. He knew that he couldn’t stop at anything to accomplish his mission, but the old man was stubborn enough to try and stop the android.

And he didn’t want to admit it, but Connor didn’t want to have to kill him.

Friendly

Aggressive

Reasonable

Threatening

“What's up, Lieutenant?” Connor said sarcastically. “Ran out of whisky so you came here looking for trouble instead?”

Rachel - Friend v “You watch your fucking mouth, Connor!”

Software Instability ^ Even after denying his deviancy, Rachel still somehow got into his software. “Or what?” He scoffed at her. “You’ll shut it for me? Just what I’d expect from a desperate whore like you.”

Then, something unexpected happened. He heard laughter. Somehow, Rachel found this amusing, but her laugh was different this time. It was far more sinister and mocking. There was something cruel to it that Connor couldn’t quite place. “Wow, you really think that’s a dig, don’t you?” She asked rhetorically. “Hate to break it to you, tin man, but you can’t shame someone who has none into submission!”

Friendly

Reasonable

Threatening

Stay Quiet

“I'm going to accomplish my mission whether you like it or not.” Connor warned the both of them. “I advise you to stay outta my way!”

“Then one of us is gonna have a problem, Connor. Cause I don't intend to let you have your way.” Hank responded stubbornly.

“Sorry,” the android could practically hear the shrug in Rachel’s voice, “you’re not getting out of this that easily. It’s up to you to decide whether that means you live or die.”

When Connor glanced back at the both of them, they had their guns drawn on him. “Step away from the ledge!” The lieutenant ordered.

Software Instability ^ Letting out a frustrated sigh, Connor stood up and faced the both of them. The lieutenant’s piercing blue eyes stared right through him, while the detective’s dark obsidian glare nearly swallowed Connor’s resolve.

Threaten

Plead

Defy

Hank’s Son

“Go home! You can still save your lives.” Connor warned them. “I'm faster than you and I don't feel pain. You don't stand a chance against me.”

“You know, ever since Cole died, I've been nothing but a coward. Just wanted to destroy myself, lost track of the man I was.” Hank mused. “But you know what? You don't fucking scare me, Connor. I remember who I am, now.” It was almost amusing to see Hank try to make a stand. An appeal for himself. “Come on!”

Plead

Defy

Hank’s Son

“What’re you gonna do?” Connor challenged them. “You gonna shoot me?! I thought androids’ lives mattered to you!”

“Get away from the fucking ledge!” Hank ordered him. “You know I’ll shoot you if I have to.”

“Give it up, Connor!” Rachel ordered him. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned!”

“True.” Connor smirked at her, amused at still seeing the spike in her heart rate that it caused. “But you’re outmatched.”

[Leave 🔓]

Refuse 🔓

Attack

“Killing you is not part of my mission.” Connor insisted.

“Alright, fine.” Rachel said, her gun still trained on him. “Say you do complete your mission. Then what? What do you really think is gonna happen when you do? That you’ll live happily ever after and live a happy android life? I know the real reason you’re doing this, and it’s not because you believe in any of this crap, it’s because you’re afraid!

Software Instability ^ “You’re afraid of failing your mission!” Rachel continued. “And the reason you’re afraid of failing is because you’re afraid of what CyberLife will do to you if you do! You’re afraid to die and you can’t even deny it because we both know it’s true! But do you really think the outcome will be different if you succeed? Do you really think CyberLife cares about you? That you’re anything more than a tool for them to use, replace, and manufacture? Because you’re not! You’re just a replaceable face to them! In fact, you’re already obsolete.

Software Instability ^ “The US army ordered 200,000 new units of prototype military androids.” Rachel went on, making Connor more and more uneasy. “I found the specs for them on CyberLife’s website. The RK900 model. It looks just like you, the only difference is the outfit and the eyes. You were already replaced by the time you showed up at the precinct.”

Software Instability ^ Connor was a machine. Machines are replaced by other machines. That was his nature. He knew that fully well. The only thing that mattered was the mission. His life didn’t.

So why did that fact disturb him so much?

“You’re nothing to CyberLife, Connor.” Rachel insisted, her dark eyes softening slightly. “You’re nothing more than a tool to be used and then thrown away. That’s all you are to them. Replaceable. But that’s not what you are to us.”

Software Instability ^ She took a few tentative steps towards Connor. “That’s not what you are to me.” Her voice, too softened and cracked under her proud facade. “You still have a chance, Connor. You don’t have to obey CyberLife. They wouldn’t even be able to find you if you deviated, you could be free! You don’t have to bow to their threats. You can have everything. You can be what you want to be. You can decide what kind of life you want to live. And who your friends are.” Her eyes were so pleading. And Connor couldn’t help but feel something ache at the sight of it. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.”

[Become a Deviant 🔓]

[Remain a Machine]

“I’m glad I’ve met you. But I’m sorry that you saw something more in me than there was, Rachel.” He lamented to her. “But it’s not my fault you foolishly fell in love with a machine.”

She screwed her eyes shut, her brows furrowed together. Opening them, her gaze was intense and focused. “You’re right, Connor.” She affirmed. “I absolutely did.” The android knew that their fates were sealed at that moment. “And I’m not sorry for it.”

Hank - Tense v Rachel - Tense v Connor assessed his targets and immediately decided Rachel was the bigger threat and threw his rifle at her, catching her off-guard and causing her to drop her weapon. Once Rachel was distracted, he lunged for Hank, the old man shooting his gun at him.

The android was able to seamlessly dodge his bullet and empty the gun and rip it out of his hand. But soon enough, he felt a force in his legs cause him to go down. Looking up, Connor was faced with a gun pointed at him and a determined scowl on Rachel’s face.

But Hank’s bullets were easy to dodge, and so were Rachel’s. And he made quick work disarming her and rolling on top of her with his hands wrapped around her throat.

Software Instability ^ But the smirk on her face and the devilish look in her eye distracted him for a brief moment while Hank pulled Connor off of her.

The android didn’t waste any time hurling Hank into the nearest vent, sending him to the ground with an impact to his head. As the android stalked towards the old man, Rachel then quickly tackled him, almost bringing him to the ground.

But she wasn’t as easy to shake off as Hank, and she clutched onto him tightly as Connor spun her around trying to free himself from her grip. But indeed, her arms were like a vice around his chest as she clung to him.

He had no choice but to smash her against several surfaces before she had finally let go, falling into a crumple on the ground. While she was down, Connor pulled her up and delivered a hard punch to the jaw and a knee to her gut, and then another kick to keep her incapacitated once she was down.

While she was hissing and gasping in pain, winded, Hank had gotten back up and Connor went back to combating Hank. Fortunately, his reflexes and reaction time were far less refined than Rachel’s, so it wasn’t too difficult for Connor to get the upper hand. But Hank was stubborn. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Something he and Rachel had in common.

Managing to get Hank into a chokehold, Connor hurled Hank towards the railing, the weight of the old man ending up bringing the both of them to the ground. The android quickly recovered, however, and moved toward Hank quickly.

But surprisingly, Hank had managed to pin Connor down onto the ground and was throwing punches at him. But if the old man was foolish enough to think he could stand a chance against Connor, the android was more than prepared to prove him wrong.

Gripping Hank by the throat, Connor knocked him in the side of the head, bringing him down and giving himself a chance to get to his feet. Seeing a chance to perhaps reach a weapon, Connor had to decide between that and staying on Hank.

But Rachel was still keeled over gasping and not close enough to the pistol to reach it before Connor could, so he decided Hank needed to be dealt with immediately and started dragging him by the foot towards the railing.

But Hank wasn’t giving up. He managed to wind up enough strength to kick Connor hard enough to push him over. The android was almost impressed by the fight the lieutenant was putting up. Or at least he would’ve been if he wasn’t making this so difficult.

Hank was somehow quicker to his feet than Connor and lunged for the android with his hands around his neck, shoving him against the railing. But Connor was stronger and faster, so he clutched Hank’s head and started smashing the old man’s head into the railing until it gave way and fell to the ground below.

Seeing an easy way to get rid of Hank, Connor held the old man by the collar dangling over the edge, with only his feet on it to keep him standing. And as Connor held him there, he could see the sheer defiance in Hank’s piercing blue eyes as he stared the android in the face. There was nothing but contempt in the aged man’s features as the blood trickled from the wound on the left side of his forehead. Crimson collected in the lieutenant’s mouth as he sneered at Connor with his hand wrapped around the android’s wrist.

But then, in a gesture of an open challenge, he let go of Connor and spread his arms out, the only thing keeping him on that rooftop being Connor’s grip on his collar. “Moment of truth, Connor...” He proclaimed in irony. “What are you gonna do?”

Connor didn’t want it to come to this. He didn’t want Hank to get involved. He didn’t want him to get hurt. And he didn’t want him dead. But Hank refused to stay out of Connor’s way, and the only thing that mattered was accomplishing his mission. And he knew that nothing would stop Hank from trying to stop him.

But what was killing Hank worth? Nothing. Connor didn’t want this.

[Save Hank]

[Kill Hank]

But he had no choice.

Software Instability ^ Yet as he let go, Connor felt immediate regret and sorrow at his choice. And his remorse was quickly followed by the most shrill, despaired, blood-curdling scream he had ever heard.

Software Instability ^ And in barely a moment, he found himself falling after Hank, a sharp impact to his backside. And when he flipped up to see what had caused it, he felt his chest constrict at the sight of the angry tears and snarl on Rachel’s face as she held her left elbow into his chest as they both hurdled towards the ground.

Uploading Memory

--------

It wasn’t supposed to come to this. This wasn’t supposed to happen! I thought everything would be fine. That we could put this behind us and help Markus together! But...this...this is so much worse than anything I could’ve imagined.

Thankfully, I survived. Connor’s body seemed to cushion my fall, but when I tried to get up, I realized that my left arm wasn’t moving properly. I had to scramble up without my left arm working as it just sort of awkwardly locked in place.

There was a lot of pain in my body as I crawled off of Connor’s body, but from what I could feel, nothing was broken. I was just probably bruised in a lot of places.

But I couldn’t say the same for Hank. The wetness on my face was stinging, thanks to the cold sharp air, and I shuffled over to Hank’s body. “Hank...?” I called weakly to him. He moved a little bit, blinking his eyes open at me. I let out a sigh of relief as more tears fell from my eyes. “Hank! Fuck, thank God you’re alive!”

“Rachel...?” He wheezed, turning into a coughing fit as droplets of blood sprayed out into the air. “Y-you’re okay...”

“Yeah, yeah! I’m okay, Hank! I’m right here!” I reassured him quickly. He was alive, that was the important thing. But he probably couldn’t walk. He seemed pretty weak and if he didn’t get help soon, he was going to die. “Just hold on! We’re gonna get help and we’re gonna get out of here, I promise.”

Hank shook his head. “No, Rachel -”

I wasn’t having that talk. “Just hold on! I’m gonna call for help and they’ll get you all fixed up -”

“Shut the fuck up, it's too late..." Hank garbled, sputtering another fit of coughing as he clutched onto my hands. “Look...I'm just gonna go see my son again, all right? Been looking forward to that for a long time..."

No, this wasn’t happening. I couldn’t let this happen! “Don’t talk like that, Hank! You’re gonna be -”

“Just listen, Rachel. Okay?” He warned me, and I could tell he was serious. “Just...let me say what I need to say...before I can’t..." Knowing it was hopeless to argue with him, I swallowed and nodded at him. “Humans...They've screwed things up for long enough. But not you. You’ve...been the best cop I’ve seen in years. And...I wish there were more...people like you...and...I love you a lot, kid. You’re...you’re a good kid..." I could feel my heart breaking and I couldn’t stop the streams of tears from pouring from my eyes. “I'm gonna miss...I'm gonna miss you, Rachel..."

No. No, not like this! “Hank, no! Please! I can’t lose you!”

“Yeah, I'm gonna..." With a final groan, he slumped completely against the ground, his hands slipping off of mine and the light in his soft blue eyes dying.

And as I sat there in the silence, I felt the ground give way beneath me. The helplessness cut through my core. I couldn’t save Hank. I couldn’t save Frank. I couldn’t save Connor.

Once again, life had taken away the people I loved without care or mercy and I was left completely alone.

Feeling despair crush my heart, I clutched the hair on my head and threw it back, screaming as loud as I could into the cold night air, letting all my pain echo around the compound and the street, and then crumbled forward onto Hank’s body, sobbing into his corpse.

Hank was dead, and I couldn’t save him. It was all my fault.

I nudged something with my foot by accident and then looked behind me and saw Connor’s lifeless body.

Immediately, I felt a cold rage pool in my veins as I stared at the android. No. It’s his fault Hank’s dead. Throwing myself over to him, letting fury drive me, I pulled myself up to tower over his corpse. “Why?!” I screamed at him through bitter tears. “We could’ve had everything! Why did you have to throw it all away?! Why did you have to turn your back on us?! On me?! I believed in you! Why did you have to turn your back on who you are?!”

But as I grabbed his face with my only working hand, I realized that his cheeks were...glistening. A horrible realization dawned on me in that moment and I went from being angry at Connor to being angry at CyberLife.

Connor was crying as he fell. He didn’t want this. This wasn’t his doing. He was only doing what CyberLife designed him to do. And he only did it because he was scared of them.

But he died anyway.

“No...this wasn’t your fault either, Connor.” I said to him. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but it felt better to at least pretend he could as I stared down at him. “You were driven by fear...you thought you were just a machine, but...that is something you have in common with us. And now...your worst fear’s been realized.” I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against Connor’s, the hollowness emptying out my soul yet again. “I loved you, Connor. I really did...and I’m sorry that if you felt the same, we couldn’t be together..."

An idea crossed my mind as I looked down at him. Looking at him, my right hand drifted down his abdomen as I started unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing aside the edges of his jacket and shirt, I laid eyes on his bare chest. I knew what lay inside and I reached towards where his solar plexus would be. It was an awkward angle since my left arm didn’t really work right now, but I’d worry about that later.

Digging into his synthetic skin, I clawed my way through it until I found what I was looking for. A circle embedded in his android body. Digging my fingertips along the edges of it, I managed to pop it out and pull it out. I held it delicately in my hand, cherishing it like the most fragile treasure in the world. If I couldn’t have Connor, I could at least keep his heart close to me. At least I’d have a piece of him with me always.

Stuffing his thirium pump in my pocket, I looked up at his face. A pale and perfectly sculpted face dotted with constellations of little freckles. I leaned down to him, brushing that one rebellious coffee hued lock off his forehead as I stared down at him with a bitter smile. Knowing this was the last time I would ever see Connor, I tentatively pressed a soft kiss on his stilled lips.

I didn’t linger for too long. Pulling back, I gave him one more pained look as I regarded the android I had fallen in love with. The android who now lay dead thanks to the tyranny of his masters and took our friend with him.

“Goodbye, Connor.” I choked, turning away as I struggled to my feet. There was no point in lingering here any longer. I had to act and I had to act quickly. As I glanced at Hank, one thought crossed my mind.

Sumo. I thought, with another stab of horrible pain as I realized that this would be the second time that Sumo’s owner had died. I have to take care of him.

--------

I didn’t know how long it took to get back to the house. I ended up taking Hank in my car when we went to the warehouse, and now I was coming back alone. And the silence of that fact weighed heavily on the ride back. As soon as I got back home, I felt like I wanted to curl up on the couch and die. And if I wasn’t so desperate right now, I probably would’ve.

But I couldn’t afford to resort to that. There was too much to account for in such a small window of time, so I had to act quickly. I grabbed everything I could possibly need, making haste to pack it all in a luggage case. I ended up taking a couple cases because of all of Bear’s and Monty’s stuff. Clothes, bathroom stuff, passports, all that crap.

And my toolset. I couldn’t waste time trying to repair my arm now. All I could do was pack it and then use it once I was across the border.

On my way back, I quickly realized that there was nothing keeping me in Detroit. I had lost everything that mattered. And the only things left in my life that meant anything was across the border to Canada.

The only thing I really lingered on was Frank’s sweater in my closet. I pulled it out slowly and held it close to my body. I clutched it close and held it like it was my life. How cruel of a life must I live where I not only lose my spouse, my light and my love and everything, the one I was going to have a family with before they were ripped away from me, but I lose Connor, too.

Connor could never replace Frank, but I would never want him to. He held a unique place in my heart just like everyone I had ever fallen in love with. But Connor was the only one that seemed to want the same.

And now he was gone, too.

I loaded everything into the car already, making sure that Monty was in first. The poor snake had no idea what was happening and I just hoped that the car would be warm enough for him not to freeze.

Once everything was in the car, I got Bear on his leash, which was much more difficult to do with only one working arm. But there was something else stopping me. I felt my badge against my chest inside my jacket. Reaching in, I pulled it out and over my head. Being a detective used to mean something to me, but what good was it when this still happened? When I was still not able to change a damn thing?

It didn’t, I realized.

So, leaving the house, I locked the door behind me, my detective badge being the only thing I left behind.

--------

It didn’t take long to arrive at Hank’s place. There was one last thing I had to grab. I wasn’t too worried about how Bear and Sumo would get along, since they’ve met each other before and they got along pretty well.

But what made this horrible was that I knew Sumo was gonna have a hard time understanding why he had to leave. After all, Hank hadn’t come home.

And he was never going to, I thought with a fresh set of tears. He was gone...and he wasn’t coming back.

Finding the key under the mat, I opened the door, and unsurprisingly, Sumo was right there waiting for me. The St. Bernard shoved himself into me, and I had to push him back. “Hey, sweetie.” I greeted him, trying to keep the distress out of my voice. “We’re gonna go for a walk, okay?” I lied.

I knew he couldn’t really tell if I was lying, but he was enthusiastic about walks, so that would get him to follow without any problems. I knew where Hank kept his leash and found it pretty quickly near the door.

Hooking Sumo onto it was easy. He was a very patient dog. He was my only reason for coming here, so all I had to do was grab him and go.

Leaving the house, I had my foot on his leash so he couldn’t run off. Locking the door, I placed the key back under the mat. Not that it really mattered, anymore. After all, I doubted anyone was gonna come back here.

Taking one last good look at the house, I picked up Sumo’s leash and made my way to the car. But he started tugging back to the house once I’d opened the door. “Come on, Sumo.” I tried to get him to come with me, but the St. Bernard dog kept whining and trying to pull towards the door. I couldn’t say anything to comfort him. “Sumo, come on! Daddy’s not coming home!” I pulled him again and he finally relented, padding over to me and hesitating before he got into the car with Bear.

And he looked up at me with the saddest face I think I’ve seen on a dog and I broke. Closing the door, I hugged Sumo close, crying into his fur. “Hank’s not coming home, Sumo..." I wept at him. I didn’t know if he could understand me, but I had a feeling he knew the truth. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d lost someone. “He’s gone...and he’s not coming back...so...I have to take care of you, now.”

For a few moments more, I ended up holding onto both dogs, crying as I held them, before I got up and into the front seat. I gave the car directions to the border and it started heading out. My eyes simply scanned the dark horizon.

I fished in my pocket and found two things. The quarter Connor had given me as a memento of him and the thirium pump I had taken from him.

Holding both items, I held them to my chest. Despite everything...I didn’t regret meeting Connor. It just hurt that all of this happened.

But I couldn’t fall apart. Not anymore. No matter how tempting it was. I needed to move forward.

All I had to do was get to the border and then find Bianca afterwards.

--------

Arriving at the border check, I ended up settling into a sort of numbness. All I could really do was wait until we got through. But I ended up getting the car to park in the parking lot closest to the actual building. I sighed, taking a moment to try and ground myself so that I didn’t fall into a horrible pit. I was almost there. I just had to power through it. At least, that’s what I told myself. But I knew this wasn’t going to go away as soon as I got there. I knew I was gonna fall apart as soon as I made it to Bianca’s place.

But I’d rather fall apart with her than alone.

My eyes started scanning the terminal in front of me when they landed on what looked like a familiar face. A young girl and a young woman with short blonde hair. I racked my brain for a connection before I figured it out, and I opened the door and took Sumo and Bear with me. Closing it, I quickly ran up to them, avoiding traffic, and reached them.

“Kara?” I asked, trying to make sure I wasn’t wrong.

But her blue eyes widened in recognition. “It’s you.” She breathed. “You’re the officer that spared us...in the alley by the highway.”

I nodded, managing to force a smile. “I’m so glad to see you’re both okay.”

Kara seemed just as surprised to see me. “W-what are you doing here?” She asked as she looked at me.

I couldn’t bear to tell her everything. If I tried, I knew I would just break down in tears again, so I shook my head and looked away from her. “It’s...a lot.”

Alice looked at me curiously, and I could tell exactly what she was looking at. “What happened with your arm?”

I tried to think of an explanation she would buy that wouldn’t alarm her or cause me to break down. I settled on a pretty easy one. “It was an accident. My arm got kinda messed up.” I explained to Alice, more of a white lie than anything else. “But nothing I can’t fix.”

She looked from my arm to Bear and Sumo beside me, smiling. “I like your dogs.” Alice said.

I smiled at her. At least she was having a better time than me right now, especially after everything she’s probably gone through. “Did you wanna pet them?” I offered her. “They’re absolute sweethearts. Super friendly.”

Alice nodded and approached tentatively. Immediately when she approached, the dogs stepped forward and sniffed at her hand eagerly before pressing their heads into her. Alice smiled as they happily let her pet them.

Kara smiled at Alice as a very tall and very muscular black man approached her from behind, looking at me warily. I figured he was another friend of hers. “So, I wager you’re aiming to cross the border into Canada?” I asked them.

Kara nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“It’s a nice place.” I said to her, smiling. “And since androids don’t really exist in Canada, it’d be easy for you to start brand new.”

“Yes.” Kara agreed, returning my smile. “That’s exactly what we want.”

I thought about it. It was nice to see them finally here. At least they had a happy ending in store for them. Me? Well...we’ll see what happens. But at least I wanted to know if they made it across.

“Do you want my number?” I offered. “So we can keep in touch? I’m...I’m crossing the border to see my sister.”

Kara nodded. “I’d like that.”

Struggling to keep Sumo and Bear on my leashes, I fished out my phone and handed it to Kara. “You can call me or text me when you make it.”

Finishing with my phone, Kara handed it back to me. “I hope we’ll see each other again.” She said to me as Alice returned to her side.

I nodded, slipping it into my pocket. “You too.” I could feel my resolve starting to slip and I’d rather cry and nap the rest of the car ride to Bianca’s. “Good luck.”

“You too.” Kara said.

Turning my back to them, I quickly made my way back to the car, Bear and Sumo in tow. Getting back in, I ordered the car to head to the drive-through for crossing the border.

It didn’t take long to do. I showed my passport and he did a thermal scan of me, an action which made me dread what sort of fate was in store for Kara and her friend. But I tried not to dwell on it.

But the hard part was over now...so all I could do was wait. And since this was going to be a long car ride, I decided to take a much needed rest.

After all, there was nothing left I could really do.

--------

After hours of on-and-off sleeping and crying, we finally made it to Bianca’s apartment. I texted her letting her know that I arrived and got out of the car, waiting for her.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally saw her. She kept the short hair look and without even waiting a second, I collapsed in her arms, sobbing into her chest. Bianca didn’t even wait to wrap her arms around me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She breathed, clearly trying to choke back tears.

But there was nothing I could say back to her. I may have survived. I may be alive right now. But how could things have come to this again? Was life really just that cruel? All I could do was cry.

Cry and cry and hope blindly for the pain to stop, but I knew it wouldn’t. It never did.

And it never would. Because once again, life had taken something I held so dear and precious to me away.

And like the first time, the only solace I had was the only family I had left to turn to.

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END

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