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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

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Seeking Forgiveness [Part Five]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: The part you've probably all been waiting for is finally here and I'm dying to see reactions to this one! Also, I have no idea why tags aren't working for a couple of you, I tried a few times to get them to work but I blame tumblr, I'm sorry! As always, Feedback is always appreciated!

Lying in bed with your sheets pulled up to your chin, it felt like the entire room around you was spinning. Even with your eyes clamped tightly shut, you could feel that uncomfortable churning in your stomach, that dizzying sensation making it feel like your bed was rocking back and forth on the ocean. You’d been lying there for at least a half an hour now, practically begging the higher powers above to give you just one night where you could fall straight to sleep without feeling like you were going to be sick.

Your morning sickness had only gotten worse now that you were entering the ninth week. And you absolutely hated the deceiving term of 'morning sickness' considering the fact that you’d thrown up a handful of times over the past few days now, and most of those times were not in the morning. It affected you on and off throughout the day, and almost always hitting you as you were relaxing and trying to fall asleep.

That telltale feeling quickly began to creep back up on you, your saliva pooling in your mouth. You winced, groaning and burying your face into your pillow as you swallowed, hoping to stop what was about to come. But the saliva only pooled more along your tongue as you felt your stomach give an uncomfortable lurch. The contents within it abruptly surged their way upwards with barely any warning.

Kicking your sheets off of yourself, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed. You threw a hand over your mouth as you hurried out of the bedroom, racing across the hall to your bathroom. You’d barely managed to flip the light on before dropping down to your knees in front of your toilet. Lifting the seat up and lowering your face above the bowl, you began to violently empty your stomach.

By the time you’d finished retching, you pathetically slumped on the floor before the toilet, running a hand across your sweat-dampened forehead. Groaning miserably, your eyes closed as you cringed at the disgusting taste in your mouth. Though thankfully the longer you sat on the cool tile of your bathroom floor, the more your nausea and dizziness began to subside.

“This is such bullshit,” you moaned to yourself. “Why does every part of this have to be so awful?”

It was a few minutes that you sat hunched on the floor in front of the toilet before you finally felt like you weren’t going to be sick again. Gradually you pushed yourself up from the bathroom floor, making your way over to your sink. Picking up your toothbrush from its holder, you got it wet and covered it in toothpaste before you began to vigorously brush the disgusting taste from your mouth. At least now that you’d gotten sick and gotten that out of your system, you could hopefully get comfortable in bed and fall asleep this time. That’s how things had gone the last few nights at least; the nausea seemed to disappear once you finally got sick.

Finished brushing your teeth, you rinsed off your toothbrush and put it away. After, you turned off the faucet and dried your face and hands on the nearby towel. Exhausted, you stepped out of the bathroom, flipping off the light as you went, but you’d barely reached your bedroom before you froze at the sound of your name being spoken through the silence of your apartment.

Fear shot through you immediately, the hair bristling on the back of your neck as you spun on your heel. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of your lips when you spotted Daredevil standing just at the edge of your hallway, the faint light trickling past the curtain-covered windows in your living room casting dark shadows across his masked face.

You stood there in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that Matt was even here in your apartment. He’d called you again just earlier today, but you’d once again refused to answer your phone for him. And now here he was, just letting himself into your apartment like he always used to do. As if he was still welcome here. The thought of that had your anger soon reigniting within you, your hands curling into fists at your sides. You saw the way Matt stiffened in response, clearly picking up on the sudden shift in your mood.

“So you think you can just break into my apartment now, do you?” you hissed. “After everything?”

“I came here to talk,” he replied, an edge to his tone. “Because you certainly weren’t answering your phone. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”

A bitter laugh fell out of you, your arms coming to cross over your chest in agitation. You ignored the way your breasts ached at the gesture, too angry to care about that.

“Maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after the way you ended things,” you shot back. “Maybe that’s why I wasn’t answering your calls, Matthew .”

The corner of his lip curled back at your words and the way you’d shot his full name out at him, as if it had physically hurt him as he winced in pain. Good, you hoped the bite in your words hurt. He deserved it after how he’d hurt you.

He opened his mouth to respond, but you saw him close it again almost immediately. His head canted to the side, the gesture which you knew meant he’d picked up on something with his senses. A different kind of fear rippled through you next, wondering just what he’d noticed.

“Are you sick?” he asked, his tone softening.

You scoffed at the question, shaking your head. So he’d noticed you’d been throwing up. You hoped the smell of your sick lingering in the air would send him away. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have right now; all you wanted to do was go to sleep. You were exhausted from your work week on top of everything else, you didn’t need a vigilante ex-boyfriend breaking and entering on a Thursday night just to fight with you.

“No, I’m not sick,” you snapped. “Not that you’d care anyway.”

“Of course I’d care,” he immediately disagreed.

“Sure as shit didn’t care when you ended things,” you spat back. “Couldn’t care enough to give me a single evening of your time. So don't tell me you suddenly care now, Matthew .”

Matt’s body went rigid, something dark crossing his masked features. A bit of the Devil was peeking through right now, you could see that. Because you’d touched a nerve of some sort.

“I wasn’t the one who ended things,” he replied, his voice rough and low. “ You did that. I came here to apologize for how I’d treated you that night and for all those times I’d broken promises to you. That’s why I’m here.”

Your brows shot up onto your forehead in shock, your mouth falling open. He thought you had ended things? With everything he’d been doing, all the promises he’d broken and the way he’d slammed that door on his way out that night–he had the audacity to claim you broke up with him ? Your fury only coiled tighter as you glared back at Matt, shoulders squaring as you held your ground, desperate to unleash the pain you’d been holding back for weeks.

“ I didn’t end the relationship, Matt,” you retorted, tears brimming in your eyes. “That was entirely on you when you chose to walk out that goddamn door and put Hell’s Kitchen over me. Like you did night after fucking night. For weeks . Because that’s all you fucking care about, isn’t it? This goddamn city. When it comes right down to it, you’d choose this city over me. That’s what you proved to me, Matthew."

Inhaling a sharp breath as you saw his lips thin out along his face at your accusation, you realized you couldn’t stop the words that were about to come flying out of you. Because for weeks now you'd wanted to hurl them at him like knives, hoping they’d hit their mark and wound him.

“You did this, Matthew,” you growled, pointing a firm, accusatory finger at his chest as that rage and pain finally loosed itself on your tongue. “You abandoned me–abandoned us . That is on you.”

“I didn’t abandon–” he began, stopping almost instantly.

His head yet again canted to the side and you swore you could almost hear his thoughts suddenly racing.

“What?” he asked sharply. “ Us ?”

There was a pause that followed his question, Matt’s entire body frozen on the spot–until his head abruptly shifted. You watched as his head tilted a few different times in confusion, his lips twisting beneath the hard line of his mask. And then the red lenses of his mask finally found their focus–fixed on your abdomen. His mouth fell open in shock as he stood there speechless, the tension quickly leaving his body as if he'd lost all of his fight in that instant.

"You're–you're pregnant?" he breathed out.

"Yes, I am," you answered.

As he continued to openly gawk, your arms lowered, wrapping protectively over your stomach. Matt took a cautious, hesitant step towards you, his gloved hand reaching out. Though he promptly stopped himself in his tracks, his hand frozen and left hovering between the pair of you.

"Why did you never say anything?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

A humorless bark of laughter flew out of you at that. What a ridiculous question to ask. As if you hadn't made an attempt to tell him.

"I tried to tell you," you said bitterly. "That night I practically begged you to stay with me, Matt. The night you walked out that door and chose Hell’s Kitchen instead. After that, I hadn't been able to bring myself to talk to you. Couldn’t look at you and tell you."

His hand that had been hovering in the space between you both continued its way up, pulling the mask from his head and revealing his stunned expression and mussed hair. There wasn't an ounce of anger anywhere on his features in the dark, his sightless eyes still fixed on your abdomen. Most likely tuned into the small, fast heartbeat there.

"I–I didn't know," he choked out, shaking his head. "I am… so sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't," you warned him, eyes narrowing. "Don't call me that, Matt. I'm not your sweetheart ," you bit out. "I'm not any of that to you anymore."

Matt visibly shrunk back, wincing at your words. His gloved hands nervously fidgeted with the mask he held between them both as you saw his throat bob with a hard swallow.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, his face contorting with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I was–was such an asshole. You didn't deserve that. Any of it."

"No, I didn't," you agreed. "You turned into a different person, Matt. One I didn't recognize. But maybe that’s who you really are."

"I thought you were trying to give me an ultimatum," he confessed, his voice tight with emotion. "That night. That's what I thought. That you were going to tell me I had to pick you or Daredevil and I–I was hurt and angry. Because I thought you knew I couldn't give that part of myself up completely. I thought you’d accepted that side of me."

"I would never have done that," you told him. "You certainly need to learn how to compromise and how to figure out what is truly a priority, Matt, but I would never have forced you to choose one or the other. Because I loved you for all of you. I'd always told you that."

"I know, you're right," he said, nodding quickly as he took another step closer. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I fucked up, I know I did. And I'm sorry. So incredibly sorry. You deserve better and I want to make it up to you. To fix things."

You shook your head, taking a step back from Matt. His face fell instantly at the physical distance, his eyes pinching tight.

"You can't fix this, Matt," you told him, waving a hand between the pair of you. "You walked out on me–on us. You'd been breaking promise after promise to me for weeks. I don't trust you anymore, don't you get that?"

"What do you mean?" he whispered, his face twisting in pained confusion. "Of course you can trust me. I love you. I'd never hurt you. Either of you."

You grimaced at the way he said he loved you, your heart constricting in your chest. What you wouldn't give for the situation to be different, to be able to have those words not feel like shards of glass tearing you open as they came out of his mouth.

"I don't trust that you'll do what you say," you countered. "I don't trust that you'll be there for me when I need you. I don't trust that anything else could ever mean more to you than this city, Matt. We would only ever come second, and that's not enough."

In the dim light coming from your living room windows behind Matt, you could see the glisten of tears in his eyes. His face further scrunched up as he tried to fight back his tears, roughly shaking his head at you.

"That's not true," he said softly, the words breaking. "That could never be true."

He sniffled loudly, the sound shattering your heart even further. As angry as you'd been at him and as much as you'd wanted to hurt him for weeks now, actually seeing him so emotionally distraught didn't make you feel any better. If anything you just felt worse about this entire disappointing situation. His actions had only left you both broken and lonely.

"I'd never pick anything before you or my own child," he assured you. " Never ."

A few tears slipped down your cheeks, the warmth of them a noticeable contrast to the cool air of your apartment. Your arms hugged your abdomen tighter as your lips trembled.

"I don't believe you, Matt," you whispered.

His face tightened further, a choked sob falling out of him. You grimaced at the sight, your own tears starting to fall faster. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again right now having this conversation. Having to tell him the things you knew you needed to.

"I would never keep you from your child, Matt," you began slowly, trying to keep your voice steady, "but I'll be the one raising this baby. Alone."

"No," he disagreed quickly, shaking his head at you. "No, don't say that. You won't do this alone. I want to be here for you. I want to be a part of this. To do this together ."

Jaw tightening, your fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. You wanted that, you really did, but not after what he’d put you through for the past few weeks. You couldn’t handle navigating pregnancy and raising a young child with a father who was unreliable, always in and out of the picture at their own leisure. That would only make things worse, and it would only hurt you and eventually this child more.

“We can’t, Matt,” you said, forcing the words out. “I can’t depend on you. And if I can’t depend on you–if I can’t trust that you’ll be there when we need you–then I don’t want that. Because you’ll only cause more pain.”

You bit your lip, struggling to get the words out as you watched Matt crumple to his knees before you. He was openly weeping now, each strangled sob only causing your heart to ache further. There was no pleasure to be gained in watching how broken he looked right now, bent in half on his knees before you with tears streaming down his face, but you knew this was what you needed to do.

“If the responsibilities of a committed relationship were already too much for you,” you continued, voice cracking on a few words, “then I don’t think you’re ready to be a father, Matt. Not like that. Not now, at least.”

“Sweetheart, don’t,” he choked out. “Please.”

Eyes snapping shut at his plea, you couldn’t look at him as you forced yourself to finish what you knew you had to tell him. It was for the best in the end.

“I’m nine weeks along,” you told him, eyes still clamped shut. “So there’s–there’s not really anything for you to be a part of at the moment, Matt.” Swallowing hard, you tried to ignore the way it felt like someone was squeezing your heart. “I don’t need your help with anything. And maybe–maybe farther along we can set something up for you to occasionally hear the baby or feel their movements, but until they’re born…there’s not really anything more for you here right now.”

“Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please don’t say that. I’ll fix this! I promise I’ll fix it!”

You swiftly turned around, burying your face in your hands. Telling Matt all of this pained you far more than you imagined it would. It didn’t help that there was a small part of you that felt like you might’ve been making a mistake. That somewhere in the back of your mind there was a small voice wanting you to turn back around and give him another chance. To let him try to prove himself. To see if he could fix things.

But you ignored that voice, shoving it far away. He’d walked out on you. What you were doing now was not the same.

“Please leave, Matt,” you whispered.

You didn’t wait for a response before you stepped into your bedroom, closing the door behind you and hurrying over to your bed. Climbing into it, you threw the blankets over yourself, burying your face in the pillow and trying to muffle the sound of your crying. In the hallway you heard Matt slowly rise to his feet, his sobs still audible to you in the bedroom. But he didn’t follow after you. Instead, you heard him make his way out to your living room, sliding a window open as he stepped out onto your fire escape. Then you heard the soft thump of your window closing after him.

That’s when you let yourself openly weep, crying into your pillow until you eventually cried yourself to sleep.

Furious at himself, Matt slammed the door to his roof access behind himself with a sharp bang that echoed loudly throughout his apartment. Tearing his helmet from off of his head, he stormed over to the stairs before he stomped his way down them, his boots landing with a heavy thud along each step. At the bottom, overcome with sheer rage, he threw his helmet forcefully from his hands with a roar. He heard the way it flew across the room and skidded along the floor before slamming loudly into the radiator.

Matt began to tear his gloves from his hands after, his chest heaving with fury and shame and despair. He threw each glove roughly onto the floor next beside his boots, pissed at himself. Pissed at Daredevil. Pissed at everything.

You were pregnant. That’s what you’d been wanting to tell him that night. And like the fucking piece of shit he was–self-sabotaging as Foggy always told him–he’d yelled at you. Pushed you away. Abandoned you. And all you’d wanted was him. For him to be there for you.

And he hadn’t even given you something so goddamn simple as that.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly.

In his agitation, he began to pace the length of his apartment like a feral cat. His hands were in his hair, roughly tugging at the strands as more tears slipped down his cheeks. He had fucked things up far more than he’d realized. But knowing that you were carrying his child? How was he supposed to let that go?

He loved you. Truthfully he loved you more than the city he swore to protect, even if he’d been an absolute asshole when it came to showing that to you lately. Because you were right. His actions hadn’t shown that you were his priority.

With an enraged growl Matt’s hands darted out, grabbing onto his kitchen table and violently flipping it over. Everything on it clattered noisily to the floor, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was fuming and too far gone in his thoughts. He could feel the Devil’s wrath inside of himself, begging him to be released. He could hear the Devil’s voice telling him that he did this to himself. That he got what he deserved. That he’d never be good enough for you or anyone. That he’d be a terrible father.

Gritting his teeth roughly together, his breathing came in sharp and hard. His hands landed on his hips as his eyes clamped shut, the muscles jumping in his cheeks as he tried to quiet that voice in his head.

Because no. That was wrong.

Exhaling a rough breath, he tried to regain his composure. You deserved better, that was true. He hadn’t been treating you the way he should’ve been before things had ended. That was on him. But you and his unborn child deserved better. And he was going to give you both that.

So that’s what he would do. He’d find a way to fix things. To prove how wrong you were about him not wanting to be a father and about him not loving you more than Hell’s Kitchen. To find a way to get you to trust him again, feel capable of depending on him. And while he knew he couldn’t give up the Devil, he knew he could learn to compromise. To truly be there for you. And he’d do whatever it took for however long it took for you to trust him again. Because you and that baby were his family.

You and that baby were his.

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

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soapymansuds · 29 days

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Eternity and Counting

(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)

~/\~

It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.

My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.

I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.

~/\~

(Mammon's POV)

A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.

My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.

"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.

"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."

I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.

Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.

"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"

(Raghhhh, sorry about this)

-Your dear friend, the author

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me angst #why did i make this #send help #obey me leviathan #obey me x mc #obey me belphegor

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

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No Rest For The Foolhardy

You manage to hide your sickness for days, but of course it's hard to hide how you feel from a Sokovian Witch. (wanda x reader)

Word Count: 2114

DAY 1- It Begins

“Y/n, we’re going to be late!” Wanda called, poking her head into the bathroom where you were painstakingly trying to apply your makeup without getting eyeliner all over your face. It was hard to do with violently shaking hands in blurred vision.

You looked over at the brunette, a smile forming on your badly chapped lips. Even when you were feeling like absolute crap, it was impossible to deny just how beautiful she was. You fell more and more in love with her every day.

“You okay? You look a little rough there babe.” She frowned, taking a slow step into the bathroom. A spike of fear ran through your body and you slammed the eyeliner down, making your smile even bigger.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep very well.” You reassured, walking over to press a little kiss against her forehead. She looked like she’d been expecting a kiss on the lips, but you didn’t dare risk that. You didn’t want her to get whatever nasty virus had crawled into your body and taken up residence in your respiratory system.

“Are you sure? Your cheeks are flushed, are you getting a bug?” Wanda pressed, her eyes boring into your soul as she tried to tell if you were lying. If she really wanted to she could’ve used her powers, but before the two of you even started dating she’d promised that she would never do that.

“Don’t worry about me love, we’ve got a meeting to get to.”

DAY 2- A Losing Battle

Why couldn't the city be attacked at a normal hour? 3 am was far too early to be getting out of your nice cozy bed to put on an uncomfortable uniform and race out of the tower to fight some sort of goop throwing alien. It didn’t speak any English, or any language that any of them knew so there wasn’t any reasoning. Just fighting.

Your body was sluggish as you threw your poison coated knives, only about half connecting with their target. Missing so much was embarrassing, especially when you were aiming for something so big. Wanda kept giving you looks but you were too busy focusing on not passing out to respond over the comms.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing? You’re trying to hit it, not me!” Natasha’s voice crackled over the comms, sounding equally frustrated and worried. They were all worried about you, it wasn’t just your girlfriend who had noticed your odd behavior.

You didn’t respond, just unleashed another knife, this time hitting the thing square in the eye. Impressive for a person with a fever and a cough that rattled your lungs every few seconds and made you gag with the force.

The battle only lasted about three hours, but when you all went back for debriefing your legs felt like jello and you were pretty sure that you could fall asleep standing up. You collapsed into a chair and put your head on your fist, blinking over at Tony as he yelled about something you had done wrong. It was obvious that you didn’t do very well today, but the thing was dead and no one had gotten hurt.

“Tony, give me a break. It’s over.” You grumbled. Your head was pounding and his frustrated yelling and stomping around the room was only making it worse. Wanda reached over and rubbed your knee, assuming that you just had a migraine. You’d taken enough medicine to deal with the fever and congestion for a few more hours, so really it just looked like a bad headache.

“You nearly killed Romanoff!” He snapped back, glaring at you with piercing eyes.

“Almost being the key word. Lay off Y/n Stark, she looks exhausted.” Natasha replied, coming to your defense. You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. It wasn’t that you and Natasha didn’t get along, she was Wanda’s best friend after all, but there had been issues between you from the start. You two often butted heads.

“Really? Whatever, I’m going to the lab. You’re all dismissed. Take a nap Y/n, you clearly need it.” That last backhanded insult nearly made you cry. You were angry with yourself for being so awful during the fight and you just didn’t feel well.

Natasha leaned across the table and took one of your hands in her calloused one, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t pay attention to him kiddo. He’s cranky because he didn’t kill the thing.” That nickname had sparked one of your first fights. You were only a year younger than Wanda who had been called ‘little witch’ since her arrival but that didn’t bother her considering that she was only a teenager when she’d joined the Avengers.

“Thanks Tasha…” You mumbled, a little embarrassed by her attention. Wanda chuckled softly, inwardly pleased by the bond growing between you two. Her best friend and her girlfriend, finally getting along.

“Come on my dear, I know you’ve been wanting to watch that new horror movie.” Wanda smiled, pulling you up out of your seat. A wave of stars danced in your vision but you brushed it off, blinking rapidly to clear them from your vision. A horror movie might actually make you feel better.

DAY 3- Game Night

Game night with movies. A simple, fun night for team bonding and a chance to relax with friends. They all enjoyed it, happy that they could forget about their dangerous jobs and act like normal people.

“Y/n! Twos, do you have any twos!?” Clint demanded, leaning forward as if to interrogate you. Right, Go-Fish. You were supposed to be playing Go-Fish. Of course, it wasn’t normal Go-Fish. There was alcohol involved. Whenever someone was sent fishing they had to take a shot. You were pretty sure if you drank any you’d lose all of the weak control you had over your illness.

You silently handed over the two that you had been cradling against your chest, clutched close to your aching lungs. The bird man let out a whoop and slapped his final four cards onto the floor, all twos.

“It’s Go-Fish dude, you didn’t win the olympics.” Rhody grumbled, pouting slightly. You cracked a little smile while Natasha smirked and Wanda chuckled. They all got so worked up over these stupid games, it was typically wildly entertaining for everyone.

You leaned back against the couch, nestling your head against Wanda’s shoulder. Cuddled close against her you were having even more trouble staying awake, but everything changed when a harsh coughing fit wracked your admittedly weak body.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” The brunette asked gently, sitting you up in her lap to ease your coughing. She rubbed your back as the fit subsided, her expression contorted in pure concern. Her beautiful caramel eyes were full of love, the laugh lines evident even through her worry.

“I’m fine. Inhaled a bug I think.” You grimaced, sticking out your tongue in mock disgust. Her face pulled into one of disbelief and then she laughed, leaning over to kiss you. You cut the kiss short, turning your head to the side so her lips brushed your cheek.

“That's some shit luck Y/n. Who wants to play Monopoly? I’m going to destroy you.” Natasha challenged, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

True to her word, the assassin beat them all in a half hour, much to everyone's joy. She was the only one who actually liked the damn game and she only enjoyed it because she always won. She was a brutal opponent.

“I’m done playing. Watching you guys lose is more fun than playing.” You smiled, cuddling back against your girlfriend. She wrapped her in your arms and kissed your hair, cradling you close while you drifted to sleep.

DAY 4- And So It Ends

Baking. Why did she want to make cookies? You weren’t sure, but you obliged her. She had woken you up all excited about the new recipe she found, nearly bouncing up and down in utter joy. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that your body was on fire and your bones ached. You didn’t have the heart to admit to the cotton stuffed in your head as your illness took full effect. You were miserable. But she was happy. That's all that mattered.

“Baby, I need the sprinkles. Can you grab them?” She asked, stirring the dough with a quizzical eye. She was an excellent baker, always taking extra time to make sure that everything was done correctly.

“Sprinkles? In the cookies?” You asked skeptically, frowning at her. It seemed to you that the colors would just bleed into the dough, leaving the two of you wish brownish, gross tasting cookies. The brunette looked back at you, her eyes glittering with amusement.

“Yes dear, sprinkles. Do you dare question the wisdom of the recipe?” She joked, smiling at you. You shrugged, and stared at the cabinet, far too high above you to reach without climbing on something.

You sighed and managed to drag a chair over, your whole body ready to give in to utter exhaustion. You knew you’d made a mistake when you took your first step onto the chair. With a shaky breath, you hoisted yourself up, wishing that Wanda had given you a lecture of the danger of climbing on chairs.

Blood rushed to your head and you grabbed onto the cabinet doors, hoping to stabilize yourself. If you could just regain your balance it would all be fine. You would be fine.

You repeated that mantra as your vision blurred and you felt yourself falling backwards, stars taking over your vision. As you tumbled to the floor you could hear Wanda yelling your name and felt the warm tingle of her magic envelope you. Sure that you couldn’t crack your head open on the floor, you let yourself succumb to the darkness.

DAY 4- Part 2

When you came to you were laying in your large, soft bed, something cool and damp resting on your forehead. You whined softly and tried to sit up, a wave of panic racing through you. You were supposed to be baking cookies with Wanda, not sleeping.

Arms wrapped around you and you found yourself pinned against the woman’s chest, listening to her rapid heartbeat. Wanda kissed your hair and rubbed your back, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like forever, you confused, but comfortable in your girlfriend's arms.

“You scared the shit out of me!” She finally said, cupping your cheeks in incredibly soft hands. Her hair which had been so expertly done was sticking out of its intricate braid in pieces. She was wearing PJ’s now and her face had been wiped clean of makeup. Nevertheless, she was still beautiful.

“Why didn't you tell me you were sick?” She demanded, pulling back to cross her arms over her chest. The look on her face was angry. She was angry with you. You’d done everything you possibly could to make her happy, but you failed her.

Tears filled your eyes and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble as you began to cry, unable to stop the cascade of your emotions. With the stress of hiding your sickness for the last few days and just how horrible you felt, you couldn’t handle her being mad at you.

“Oh Y/n, sweetie, it’s alright. I’m sorry, you just scared me, that's all. You passed out and your fever was 105, Bruce had you on IV fluids for an hour. Honey, you can't do that, you need to take care of yourself, I need you to take care of yourself.” She soothed, wiping the tears off of your cheeks.

You tried to stop crying, but you just couldn’t. The dam had broken and there wouldn’t be any fixing it.

“My sweetheart, it’s all going to be okay.” Wanda murmured, crawling into bed with you. She wrapped her arms around your waist and you tucked your head against her chest, sobbing quietly into her shirt.

“It’s all going to be okay. Just close your eyes baby, I’m not mad. It’s okay.” She promised, holding you close as you cried out all of your misery. Your throat hurt from all of the tears and you were sure that you’d gotten snot on her shirt, but she didn’t care. She didn’t pull away, just held you and ran her fingers through your hair while your sobs turned to ragged breaths, which in turn changed to soft, even, sleepy snores.

“Sleep well my love. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

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chaotic-nick · 1 year

Text

wc: 1170

note: I wrote this last year when I was deep in my Attorney Woo Young Woo phase and was a second-year uni student taking broadcasting subjects [I used the Shawarama shop mentioned in the fic for my project and it closed down a month after.]

Relationship dynamic: Boss Erwin x secretary Reader/ secret relationship AU

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Erwin said to his secretary who walked behind him, swiping through his schedule on the work iPad. Once the elevator doors closed, he reached for his card in his pocket and extended his arm out to her. “What was that coffee you got me?”

Scrunching her face in thought was the first expression different from a plastered smile,“Iced cafe Vanilla . . . from Mcdonalds.” She bit her tongue back from reminding Erwn that he took a sip from her coffee and only realised that the one meant for him was on his desk when he was packing to go home.

“Woke me up last time.” as the elevator floors took them up to his floor, Erewin swallowed and slowly turned to her with a reluctant look on his face as he said, “And I’ll fire you if you don’t get yourself anything.”

“Of course, Erwin lied when he said fifteen minutes. (And he swallowed his own words, “Ordering coffee only takes— what? Five? Seven minutes. That’s all you need, when she made him order his own coffee.)

He wasn’t that type anymore. Slowly relaxing after five years of being the company’s CFO.

And slowly, after a morning of meetings with the board of directors and potential shareholders, Erwin let himself turn the swivel chair to face the blue sky stretched across buildings and lean a little more further into his chair to rest.

His mind drifted to what restaurants he hadn’t taken her to.

Using her back to push open the door, and careful not to spill any coffee on the sandwiches she bought, ”Sir!” She called out ready to tell him what she saw— one of their almost clients already bragging that they got Erwin’s signature.

Turning around she was greeted by a human image of a cat napping in the sun. Erwin’s face relaxed and the sun highlighted the premature grey hairs on the sides of his face. “Sir,” she called, setting down the coffee.

When he didn’t move, (Y/n) threw a quick glance at the door and circled to the table. “Erwin, wake up.” She said, placing her hand on his face.

“Back so soon?” He yawned— then violently shook his head. A pitiful attempt in waking himself up or removing the sleep that lingered. Always giving him dizzy spells rather than its intended purpose.

Going back across the desk to sit down. “Another fifteen minutes and it would’ve been an hour. Sir.”

“What did you get yourself?”

“The same thing as yours. I needed to wake up, too.”

“How about?” His tongue darted out to lick away the mayonnaise on the side of his mouth. And she looked at him longer, seeing an older version of his childhood picture —one that she kept as her lockscreen on a personal phone— come to life again. “We go to dinner after this? Have this Thursday* night to ourselves.”

(*Thursday nights = the last day of the week where I live)

“Sure,” (Y/n) followed “I’m not busy after work anyway. My boyfriend’s too busy with work all the time.”

Though he knew she joked, Erwin’s heart was hit with a pang of guilt. “My girlfriend’s the same too, unfortunately. I think her boss is keeping her after hours.”

The restaurants within their buildings were full enough for Erwin’s name to be treated as another person trying to use their work title. When he was informed of the business meetings being conducted inside, he only nodded and thanked them for their service. He was becoming sick of it. Really sick of it.

“I know a place,” (Y/n) chirped when she saw him sigh into his seat and run a hand through his hair, “not really sure if you’d like it.”

“Sure, why not. I’ll get to know you better.” As if they haven’t been together in silence for nearly a year. Though she knew what he meant. It was the little things from before their paths crossed that made them into . . . them. “Tell me where it is.”

“I only know how to go there by the metro.” Her little thing was that her life after highschool was exploring the country with the trains. It fascinated her and made life more cinematic as she’d describe it.

“We have GPS.” And then that’s Erwin’s little thing. Calling location apps GPS. “What’s resto’s name?”

“Erwin . . .it’s written in Arabic,” her eyes were wide and her posture slumping in distress,“I don’t know what it’s called.”

“Then,” he sighed into his seat, beginning to reverse his car out of the parking lot. “We’ll find it by car, right?”

Leaning to reach for the control panel, her finger hovered over the button with a waiting look thrown at Erwin’s concentrated face. “Right,” she smiled, watching how his roof slowly folded, the streetlights illuminating his face.

“So,” she asked Erwin who rested his torso against the steering wheel, eyes watching the workers made one shawarma after another and send it off to their delivery drivers. “this helped me survive college and all my internships.”

“This place?” It was different from all the restaurants he’d taken her to. And different from his world. “It’s all chicken?”

“No, no. It’s a shawarma place, but there’s more than that inside,” pushing the door open, “Don’t worry you’re with me.” She said and then stretched her arm up to yell, “Helloooow, UNCLE!”

His eyes scanned every part of the restaurant, still though, he remembered to hold the door open for her to come in. “They also know my mom . . . and my dad. Ooh also my brothers, they know everyone here. Basically, if you come here enough they’ll have your orders memorised and poof. That’s it.” Only two tables and yet the delivery drivers came one after another.

“Chicken Barbeque.” He read on one of the menus.

“Hmm?” (Y/n) followed his eyes focused on the grill. “That’s what you want?”

“Sure, yeah. I’m putting all of my trust in you—” “You don’t wanna read the menu, ‘Win?” “I’ll do that too . . .”

“Chicken Barbecue,” repeated ‘uncle’ when he put the silver platter in front of them. A whole chicken resting on bread with vegetables on the side. On the other were sauces in overflowing the plastic containers they were in.

“Wow.” She said, “Thank you, uncle.”

“Yalla, enjoy.” He said, throwing a towel over his shoulder, and turning the TV on to a live broadcast of their home country’s football team.

(Y/n) reached her hands for Erwin’s still buttoned sleeves. “Gimme, gimme.”

“You can wash your hands there.” She pointed with her chin as she folded his sleeves. Never removing her eyes from him, whose face looked younger with curiosity.

“You eat this with your hands?”

“First time?”

“It is!”

“Don’t worry you’re with me.”

“I’m full,” said Erwin, falling behind a few steps for the first time. Rubbing his belly over the white shirt he sighed again, “Very full.”

She grinned tiredly at this, angling her shoulder to push her apartment door open, “Wanna come in for tea?”

“If I fall asleep it’s the chicken.”

“Okay, okay. You left your toothbrush here the last time.”

#nick writes fics #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x y/n #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction

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mooodyblue · 1 year

Note

HI! hope you’re having a good day!

just wanted to request either lil! austin or even lil!elvis maybe gettin carsick with reader. maybe their going to disney land or somewhere fun and their super bummed about being sick and missin out on the fun day y’all had planned.

ps. love your writing 🫶🏼

thank you!! ❤️❤️ super cute request! i used austin since i know he loves disney and talks about visiting all the time ^^

warnings: little space, mentions of vomiting(not detailed tho)

wc: 737

masterlist

this was probably the most chaotic trip you've ever been on. the moment austin found out you'd never been to disneyland, he just about lost his mind. and now, here you are on a spontaneous trip to disneyland.

it was a bit of a drive and unfortunately, austin got a bit overexcited before you left, causing him to slip into his headspace. normally you wouldn't mind austin being little, but on a day like today? he hated the long car ride and the only thing you could do to keep him quiet was to give him one of his snacks or something to chew on.

with there still being hours left on the road, you wanted to try and get austin to sleep a little before heading to your next rest stop. but he just refused to sleep. he wanted his bed, his comfy pillows, his bedtime stuffie and more importantly, to not be in a bumpy car ride. "austin, this will go by faster if you try and sleep."

"i don't wanna sleep!" he crossed his arms. "want my bed."

"well, it's gonna be awhile. at least try to sleep until we get to the next rest stop, we can get you a snack when you wake up!" your hands gripped tighter on the wheel, trying to not lose your mind at the grumpy boy next to you.

austin let out a huff, staring out the window and fighting off his sleep. he refused to sleep in the car.

you got to the next rest stop and parked, letting austin jump out to stretch his legs. "momma, can i get a snack now?" he asked before you could even get out of the car, impatient as ever. if only he took that nap.

"let me get out of the car first." you chuckled, heading to the trunk to pull out a random lunchable you packed just for him. austin gasped, jumping up and down as he took it from your hands. "now, don't eat it too fast. i don't want you to get sick."

the two of you sat for awhile, letting austin run around for a bit while you checked to see how many hours you had left till you arrived. you were finishing up on your phone when austin ran up to you, "momma, can we go now?" he whined. you sighed and got up, "alright, c'mon aus."

not even two hours back on the road, you noticed austin was quiet as he stared at the window, rubbing at his eyes. "you okay?"

"don't feel good."

you began to panic. you really didn't need austin getting sick in your car. "you're not gonna throw up, are you?"

"no....i don't think so." he shook his head.

"you have to tell momma if you need to. we don't want you getting the car dirty."

ten minutes later, put a hand over his mouth, shaking at your shoulder. you glanced over at him, eyes widened. "oh damn, okay. hold on, please don't throw up in the car." you begged, finding a way to pull over. austin jumped out immediately, barely making it to the grass. you rushed over to him, rubbing his back softly. austin never mentioned anything about ever getting carsick so this was new for you, definitely something to ask about when he was out of his headspace.

but there was no way you could make it to disney when austin was in this condition, icky and grumpy were two things that did not go together. austin let out tiny sobs as he stayed hunched over, hands on his knees. "baby....i don't think we're gonna make it to disney today."

that only made austin cry more. you were just as disappointed as he was, but his health was always your top priority. he shook his head violently. "no no no! wanna go to disney! wanna go now!"

"bunny," you crouched down, cupping his face. "what if we go tomorrow instead, hm?" he looked down at you with sad eyes, hating that his whole day was ruined. "there's a hotel down the street that we can stay at, you'll even get to sleep in a bed! doesn't that sound nice? a nice big, comfy bed?"

the look on his face broke your heart, like you just crushed all his hopes and dreams. tomorrow was not far from now and with austin being austin, you could probably pull some strings to change your passes to tomorrow.

but that did sound nice, austin really just wanted to get some sleep. his head was aching and his stomach felt gross. he nodded sadly. "disney tomorrow?"

you nodded. "disney tomorrow, i promise. now let's get you cleaned up."

#austin x reader

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magicxc · 7 months

Text

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Hallween they’ll never forget.

Word Count: 3521

Warnings: more murder lmao

Chapter 7 - 3rd POV

Series Masterlist

Feet scraping against the floor, Emery starts a string of stuttering - the fresh words dying on her tongue each time a new thought pops into her mind, as she tries desperately to put as much distance between her and Jason.

Tears filling both eyes, they spill down puffy cheeks while she scrambles up to her feet, shoulders violently trembling as she manages to throw accusation after accusation his way about the gum in question.

“Really? I got it from a convenience store, you can’t be serious right now.”

“As serious as a heart attack Jason, stop fucking with me.”

Head rising out of the palm of her hands and eyes narrowed into slits, Lynnley feels genuine confusion on why the people around her have found yet another reason to fight with each other; especially considering what just happened.

“I'm sorry, wh- what's the reason now?”

“Uhh, apparently Emery here isn't a big fan of peppermint flavored gum?” Jason questioned.

“Jason you bitch, I fucking dare you to play coy with me again.” Emery screeched. “Lynn he- he- he has that shit flavored gum.”

Realising what Emery is referring to, Lynnley decides to play mediator between the pair, for fear that she’ll get sucked into a screaming match next, both physically and mentally exhausted from the events of the night.

“Em, chill out, it’s probably just a coincidence. For goodness sake, Jason can’t be the only one that buys the damn flavor or else they wouldn’t sell it.”

Walking off to the corner of the room, Jason leaves the argument, preferring to avoid the topic at hand, even if it means clearing his name.

“Chill out? Lynn, our friends are all dead, how can you say that?”

“Because it’s the only thing keeping me sane right about now,” Lynnley ranted. “After everything I’m to believe that my boyfriend has been slaughtering everyone I love? How sick is that?”

“Just a few hours ago, you were convinced it was Lenny. What are the odds that our friends start dropping like flies the literal moment he steps foot into our lives?”

Hands cradled around her head Lynnley feels a multitude of emotions, the top one being revulsion. Was Jason really capable of doing something this cruel? Physically yes, but what kind of sane person would stoop that low on the moral scale?

This is the same man that lotioned her entire body down after every shower. This is the same man that tracked her periods so he could have snacks, movies, and hot compresses on standby for when aunt flo paid a visit. This is the same man who insisted on cuddling her to sleep every night, stories about his day a common subject until he heard her light snores; an indication that let him know it was safe for him to rest his eyes. The first time she played asleep was an experiment after confronting him about it, a sly grin creeping up on her face after realising that he’d gladly lose sleep if it meant she could finally meet the sandman.

So, could it be that Lynnley was so head over heels for the guy that a few tendencies went overlooked? Like his persistence on knowing her every move? Surely he was just protective. Or the fact that he kept his private life so secretive? Maybe he was just a tough cookie to crack.

Fingernails digging into her scalp Lynnley replays every sketchy moment Jason’s ever had, finding any and every excuse to combat it because one thing she could never do is live with herself after inviting this man into the lives of her closest friends and watching the deadly consequences unfold. Hands gripping at the roots of her hair, she doubles down on the fact that Jason is but a law abiding citizen and their sleep deprivation is getting the best of them. In fact he’s been by her side through some of her most challenging moments and not to mention most of the night.

“Most of the night? For fucks sake Lynn, OPEN YOUR EYES BEFORE HE SHUTS THEM FOR YOU.”

“Em, please can we just-”

Cut short in the middle of her sentence, Lynnley struggles to speak through the searing pain coursing through her body. During their heated bickering no one had noticed Jason creep up behind her, his pocket knife lodged deeply in her back.

Mouth formed into an “O” Emery stood glued to the floor in shock, watching as blood slowly pooled to the front of Lynnley’s shirt.

“Six centimeters to the left of the spine and eight centimeters down from the shoulder. That’s where I got you sugar,” Jason whispered, licking the shell of her ear. “It stings doesn't it? You see the tip of the knife punctures the lung at such an angle that any breath you do manage to take in is used to supplement your body as opposed to letting out those earth shattering screams, I just know you can make,” he snickered. “Be a doll and stay put for me."

And with that he yanks the knife from her back, none too gently, watching as her body falls limply to the floor.

Blood splatters from the open wound and oozes from her mouth as Lynnley drags herself away from him, tears rapidly streaming down her face while she lays belly up on the floor - hoping that the hard wood can apply pressure to the wound she can’t reach.

Emery reaches out to Lynnley, vision blurry and body weak as she watches her friend's worst fear come true. Meanwhile Jason has his targets set on his final victim, slowly inching his way toward her.

For each step he takes forward, she takes two back, mind whirling with thoughts of where she can reasonably stay put for another half hour or so. Her thoughts don't yield much answers and she instead breaks off into a sprint around the living room, foot ready to step into the hallway until a hand lands on her shirt and snatches it back.

Jason finds this sorry attempt laughable at best, yet pathetic entirely. After all that, does she really think she stands a chance? Against him? No, in fact this little cat and mouse game has gone on long enough and it’s time he put this whole scuffle to rest.

Hurling Emery on the floor, his pocket knife rests painfully on her throat. Pressed into her neck, the jagged edges prick the soft skin, small drops of blood sliding down to her decolletage just daring her to move any further.

And move she does, arms flailing and legs thrashing, it isn’t until her palm connects to his face does his fingers replace the knife, curling tightly around Emery’s neck. Jason can't help the twisted smile etched onto his sinful lips, admitting that he likes a woman that fights back.

Even if Emery doesn’t make it through the night, she’ll be damned if she makes it easy, or at the very least pleasurable for him. So instead, with every fiber of her being, she swallows the retort on the tip of her tongue and plays possum, body completely flaccid in an attempt to ruin whatever sick fantasy he’s conjured up.

But all it is for Jason is a minor bump in a very satiable road. Though he finds himself on the verge of irritation this isn’t anything he can't get through. After all, he didn't work his way up to staff sergeant just to back down from a little challenge. She may not move for him the way he’d like, but Jason’s confident he can coax a little wiggle from her taut body. Plus, it’s the psychological aspect he enjoys most when it all boils down to it; so mobility or not he’s bound to have a good time.

“You know, back then when we first met? It was actually supposed to be you that ended up at the rest stop near the border,” Jason admits, smearing the blood stained steel on her shirt. “That night when you pulled into the parking lot, things felt too damn easy. Here comes this woman, in the pouring rain, pulling into this desolate place just to use the bathroom. It almost felt like a gift.

Emery feels rage like none other. There's several things she has to physically hold herself back from and one of them is punching him right in his stupid face. At least if she goes out, she can do so with a bang; literally. But she has to keep her calm and play the long game. Even if it means revisiting the night that's cost her countless hours of sleep.

Never did she think she’d come face to face with the man behind her night terrors, at least outside of a courtroom that is. But all this means is that she has to do whatever it takes for the homies lost along the way. She just has to play it cool long enough to survive the night because if it’s one thing she’s determined to do is get through this.

Tucking his knife back into the pocket Jason continues his flashback, reminding her of that fateful night leading up to this very moment. In the grand scheme of things, it worked out much better than he could’ve ever imagined getting five for the price of one. And what a grand finale it’s turned out to be.

“What stopped you from picking me that night?” Emery croaked.

Tongue tracing over his bottom lip, Jason seemed deep in thought before admitting that he wasn’t so sure exactly what spared her from such a fate. Bending down so his lips meet her ear, Jason goes on to recall step by step the events that took place leading up to the seventh victim and what a vivid picture he painted. So close yet so far away, their shoulders centimeters apart in the lot, symbolizing the literal inch in which her life was saved.

Deeply inhaling, a twisted smirk finds its way onto his mouth, a heavy dose of nostalgia transporting him back to that very moment in the lot - her vanilla scented shampoo just as potent in his nostrils as it was in the rain.

Try as she might to widen her lids and roll her eyes back, the pool of tears that's gathered threatens to spill with the inevitable blink to follow. The fluttering of her lashes doesn’t help much and instead encourages the free flow of tears that slides down her cheeks. Heavy breathing from his weight or this moment she may never know, follows suit; wishing the earth could consume her entirely, all that talk about surviving the night tossed out the window. Why did she ever think she was strong enough to see this through? Why couldn’t he just make it quick? Instead he mocks her and sears her skin with his icky touch.

“Shhh,” Jason coos. “We’re not even at the good part yet. Cause really I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Hands balled tightly together, Emery settles for turning her head to the side, the wall suddenly a lot more interesting than it was a mere few minutes ago.

“You were the first time I’ve ever hesitated. And for obvious reasons I couldn’t just let you leave, but more so I wanted to see what it was about you that had me stopping in my tracks,” he explained, fingers tucking her hair behind the ear.

That night after brushing past one another, it was truly miraculous that he was able to clock your license plate given the circumstances, but by all means he did and wasted no time using his resources to track you down. What was supposed to be a one and done, something along the lines of an accident, turned into the prospect of a five for one special. And who could turn down such a possibility?! After a few weeks trailing her, he was able to find a way to end it all, but more importantly Jason was able to find his in - through none other than Lynnley. She was so desperate for love it was amusing, though it did allow him to brush up on his social skills if you will. That ‘relationship’ really brought his other talents to the forefront.

Just a little while longer, Emery thought. Who knew the prick was such a talker? But it just might work in her favor after all. If Julianna could survive drowning and Stephanie could survive a knife to the throat, the very least Emery can survive is this motormouth prick, gloating in all his murderous glory. In fact, a jail cell is too good for him, and if all goes well, it’ll be his organs at the end of a very pointy knife.

“Can you believe it Em? Not only am I able to adapt to the personality traits of a loving boyfriend, but I was even able to get you all to join in.”

Did he just? Too stunned to speak, let alone think Emery couldn’t believe that he hadn’t a crumb of decency left in him. To brag about the literal deaths of her friends? Suddenly it was becoming too much.

“Shut up!”

“I mean, I’m a pretty hands on guy, but to watch myself thrive in the psychological side of things was something else entirely. For sure I thought I would’ve been figured out after the whole Steph situation. But then this amazing thing happened-”

“SHUT UP!”

“Did I mention this is a new record for me? I tend to take care of things one at a time but phew, what a night am I right?”

“Jason you are literally SICK,” she cried. “What went so fucking wrong in your life?”

“Do you want the long version or the short version? It doesn’t matter though because you’re definitely someone I’ll carry with me for years to come. I mean look at this gotdamn scene? And as luck would have it, we meet again and I get to save the very best for last.”

Emery wretches, but all that comes up is a gust of air - the liquor from the night long gone from her bloodstream and her stomach. All she can manage is a dry heave as Jason condescendingly pats her head in comfort.

Raising up to shift his body weight to his knees, Jason goes on to undo the buckle of his belt, Emerys breathing now dramatically increasing in speed. Frazzled, she starts kicking once more, this time a loud cry managing to tear its way past her throat.

Fingers clamped around her jaw, Jason squeezes it to discomfort and spits inside, mentioning how her mouth can be put to better use.

“And please, don't flatter yourself Em, you’re not my type. I just prefer you of all people quiet. Go ahead and give it a swish,” he taunted.

With the belt free from his pants, Jason places it around her neck, quicker than she can stop it and loops it through the buckle with minimal effort. He goes on to admit to actually wanting to keep her alive to deal with the aftermath of everything, for the simple fact that it’s the mental aspect of things he’s grown to enjoy most. But he couldn’t possibly risk her identifying him to the police.

Horrified, Emery realises the gravity of her situation and notices that any major movement could actually work against her in terms of squeezing the leather around her neck. Fingernails scraping deep into his flesh, she tries to grab at his hands before they can grip onto the belt and they both push against one another, her strength oddly satisfying to him.

This is someone who should be worn out, but it’s interesting what fear can make you do - another reason he’s found himself so infatuated with the group and the unexpected turn of events throughout the night.

Jason finally manages to wrestle her to the ground, cooing words of affirmation for the good fight she’s fought and grapples with the belt until he has it firmly placed in his hands. Pulling at the end, he wraps it around his knuckles and tugs it back as far as his body will allow.

All of Emery’s focus now lies on the belt and try as she might, it just won't budge. She manages to slip her thumb between her neck and the strap, but it does very little compared to the strength of the man atop her. Heels buried into the floor, she tries scooting backward in an attempt to throw Jason off her though all she manages is shoe scratches embedded along the floor boards. Veins popping from her neck and teeth bared, Emery musters up the last bit of strength she has, a hoarse scream on the tip of her tongue as black dots dance around her vision.

Wrapping the belt once more around his hand, Emery surprises Jason at every turn at the fight she’s put up. This night is definitely one for the books and a pilot to what his future skillset can conjure up. If he ever gets caught, he’ll be sure to credit her with this new inspiration of his and that way her name, too, will live on in the tales of time. Her efforts eventually subside, head sluggishly shaking from side to side, and he holds his position for a few minutes longer to make sure the deed is done.

Tiredly huffing out a breath of air, Jason stands to his full height and fixes his clothes. Walking over to Lynnley, he crouches down and thanks her for the part she played in it all, acknowledging that none of this would've been possible without her.

“I sincerely hope that you were able to enjoy the final show sugar,” he winked, bending down to place a final kiss to her lips. “If it brings you any type of solace, you were my favorite.”

Lynnley croaks out one last gurgled moan, no doubt a slew of curse words. A tear escapes her right eye, all her energy thwarted from the serious wound and Jason takes the time to brush her lids closed.

Tires crinkling over the leaves on the ground breaks him out of his daze. Shuffling to the window, he sees what only could be Lorenzo’s parents pulling up. Digging his hands through his pockets, he pulls out the house keys and heads over to the back door

Unlocking the deadbolt, Jason slips through and jogs up as far away from the house as he can, stopping once he gets a good enough distance away to still be within earshot of the scene to unfold. That's the good thing about places this far out. Wide open spaces act as an echo, sounds rippling off one another until they fade into the distance. And even though he is a sizable distance away from the house, he reminds himself to be careful as the echo in question works both ways. But boy what he wouldn’t give to see the look on the parents faces at his parting gift. He’ll just have to do without for now as he’ll see it on the news station soon enough.

Peering behind a tree, Jason waits, watches, and listens for what comes next. How insanely cool would it be to pull this off again? The same family line, the same trauma, the same ending? It’s almost too good to be true. Hands slithering down to his pants, he has to adjust his bulge at the thought, leg shaking loose his oncoming boner.

But is it wise though? To hit the same place twice? No, that's how people get caught, they get too cocky. The only reason he’s been as successful as he has is because there are no connections. Different states, different people, different races, different traits - it’s how he keeps em guessing. And this? Five at a time? It's not his MO. He could roughly get away with something like this for months to come, authorities quick to profile someone else entirely.

He could never take full credit for it though. In all fairness, the other players of the game helped create the art scene in the same way the person who brought paint to Michaelangelo helped create the sistine chapel. And while he could never pair up to Michaelangelo, he did consider himself an artist. Did his work push boundaries? Of course it did. What great artist hasn’t? And while he didn't work much with paint or photography, he did prefer himself a realist of sorts, his works imitating that of ordinary people in ordinary surroundings. He may not have been Jean-François Millet, but his style will be talked about for centuries to come.

The scream that echoes through the air has Jason smiling wide, trudging further toward the main road at a mission well done. The breeze is light and the sun is warm as it beams down on the earth, his next quest fresh on his mind.

After all, lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, or does it?

A/N: Wowww!! This is a story thats been brewing for a little over a year now. I never expected myself to get so gory while writing and in the beginning it was super tough emotionally. Overall, my growth is insaneee and Im in mf awe of how this turned out :) Im finally at a place where I can, for the most part, jot my thoughts accurately on "paper"!!! This journey was fun and tiresome, and Im excited to see where my muse takes me next.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Hills and Valleys #Original Story and Characters #Horror #Muhahaha #Wowzers #I meannn #Did you really expect anyone else #thats craaaaazyyy #FIN #Finale

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hassedah · 1 year

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Beliath take care MC who is sick:

Hi! How are you?

I wrote this headcanon to complement the one I did with Aaron and Vladimir. I would normally do one for each character. I hope you enjoy it!

Have a good day and take care of yourself! ^^

Beliath does not have a good knowledge of medicine. He knows how to heal a wound and stop a bleed but that’s as far as it goes. A flu, a cold and he starts to panic. How could it be otherwise, he doesn’t understand biology very well and he so rarely gets sick that he always imagines the worst as soon as someone in the manor catches the slightest cold.

He is a little too worried to take good care of others when they are sick. So most of the time Ethan asks him to leave the sick person alone. That doesn't stop him from trying to help. He bakes for Raphael, makes tea for Vladimir, keeps Ethan or Aaron company and even plays video games with Ivan. When you are the one who is ill, it is more complicated, Beliath is even more anxious than usual. He knows that you are safe, Ethan is an excellent doctor, but he still has trouble staying calm. At times like this, he stays with you no matter what. He makes you anything you ask him to eat, reads you books, plays video games with you.

That evening you were not feeling well. You had had a throbbing headache since the night before, although you had hoped that the headache would have gone away after a good day's sleep, but that was far from being the case. To top it all off, you had had a sore throat since sundown and a cough that wouldn't let up. Beliath had got up just before you woke up to go and wash. But you quickly gave up trying to get up to join him in the shower and instead tried to go back to sleep.

Beliath came back into the room after half an hour. You had failed to fall asleep and turned to face him as he entered. Beliath was a little surprised to see you still lying there, you rarely stay in bed that long. As he reached the edge of the bed, the vampire leaned over you his long black hair tickled your face as he came to kiss your cheek.

"Aren't you getting up? whispered Beliath. Shall I let you sleep a little longer?

-I'm not feeling very well tonight," you replied in a hoarse voice.

-What do you mean?

His hand gently touches your forehead before you have time to explain.

-MC! But, you have a fever!

Worry marks the features of his face and you feel compelled to sit up slightly to reassure him. But your body doesn't seem to agree and a violent coughing fit shakes you.

That's all it takes for Beliath to become even more worried. He looks at you without knowing how to react before remembering that he always keeps a bottle of water on his bedside table. He then rushes to give it to you.

Once your coughing stopped, Beliath seemed to calm down a bit. He sat back down on the bed next to you.

"Are you feeling better, my darling? Please don't cough like that again, you scared me.

-I can't really control it, Beliath," you replied, amused by his request.

-Yes, you are right. I shouldn't be asking you this.

-It's just a little cold," you continue to reassure him. It happens to everyone... I'll probably be better by tomorrow.

-Are you sure about this? I can go get Ethan if you want.

-No, I'll be fine... I assure you I'm fine. I just need to rest tonight.

Beliath nods, but he doesn't seem reassured. You can tell by the look he gives you and the door, as if he's reluctant to disobey you and go for the doctor anyway. Finally, you sigh at the worried look on his face, "Okay, if it makes you feel better. Go get Ethan, but he'll tell you the same thing I did, darling."

That's all it took for him to leave the room and go get the doctor. The half-incubus returned only a few minutes later, dragging Ethan behind him. The doctor smiled at you, understanding as you did that you couldn't reassure the incubus without him saying you were fine.

It took Ethan a good ten minutes to convince Beliath that you were fine and just needed to rest tonight. After Ethan left, Beliath went to make you a honey tea to soothe your cough. When he returned you were wrapped up in the blankets up to your neck. You were cold despite your fever and you accepted the cup that the incubus happily handed you.

"That's nice of you, darling.“

The warmth of the cup of tea warms your hands, and you blow gently on it before taking a sip. Beliath doesn't take his eyes off you, as if you might evaporate if he stops looking at you for a moment.

“I'm not going to disappear, you know. It's all good.

-Yes... I know. I don't like it when you're ill, I'm always afraid it's something serious.

-Ethan assured you that I'll be fine tomorrow and that I just need to rest tonight.

-I hope... Do you want to do something special tonight? I can read you a book, or I can ask Ivan to lend me his console so we can play together.

-Um... no. I've got too much of a headache for that, I think. I just wish you'd stay with me.

You don't have to ask him twice for him to come and lie down next to you. He waits patiently for you to finish drinking your tea before helping you to snuggle up to him. His skin is still as cold as ever, but it's not unpleasant because he hurries to cover you both under the covers.

“Are you sure you don't need anything? he asks you gently, as you rest your head against his shoulder. I would do anything to make you feel good.

-Sure, I just want to sleep with you for a while.

-Okay, he nods before kissing your temple. I'm not moving, you can sleep”.

You smile and turn to kiss her back.

“I love you, you whisper.

-I love you even more," Beliath replies with a smile.

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers beliath

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blacklodgemusictx · 1 year

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Feeling Yourself Disintegrate

I don’t have what I would consider a fear of needles. I’m covered in tattoos. I am perfectly willing to sit serenely in one place and be stabbed hundreds of times in a row – it’s an asset. I deal with the repetitive psychological pain of doing my job every day the same way (civil service, amiright?)

IV placement is another matter altogether. I seem to attract phlebotomists who forget how veins work. Something about me says, “Dig under my skin, poke, jab, hurt me.” After each failed venous expedition, I’m left shaking. It’s almost like being cold: shivering, gasping, teeth clenching.

I take Ketamine infusions due to Major Depressive Disorder (Google it: there's evidence it makes old, dim synapses light up and start "talking" to each other again). 12/30/22 was my second Ketamine “booster” (after an initial series of six as close together as possible for maximum benefit, I am now taking infusions longer and longer apart trying to maintain the drug’s therapeutic benefit without being as dependent on frequency.)

This infusion was another bad stick. Please, I beg the kind woman who runs the clinic when the Vein Abuser is out of the room, please don’t let her poke me again. Please? Kind Lady has never missed the target. Her deft hand sinks the needle in place every time. No, she assured me. She will do it next time.

I am wrapped in a blanket, shoes off, feet reclined, giant noise cancelling headphone, padded sleep mask I bought off Amazon. Usually, I bring lip balm as I have a weird habit of smacking my lips pretty vigorously when down my K-hole. Today, my only focus is a small baggy of nausea candies and alcohol prep swabs – I saw a video on Facebook suggesting the quick inhalation of alcohol during a spell of nausea will sometimes help alleviate the symptoms. As of treatment seven, the Ketamine suddenly started making me violently sick.

I hate being nauseous. I won’t even resort to being coy: if you want my secrets, you don’t even have to torture me. Just spin me around in an office chair for half an hour ‘til I’m sea sick. No more, coppa, I’ll talk, I’ll talk!

The only reason I was willing to submit to getting sick again is the fact that I truly believe the Ketamine is working. I’ve been a slave to my depression since I was ten years old. Even though the Ketamine’s benefit so far has just been a kind of Flowers for Algernon effect (improvement that quickly wears off), the brief, clear windows of hopeful feeling have been indescribably beautiful.

(The only reason I am going in to this kind of detail instead of just saying, “Ketamine, it’s a thing I do. And then this other stuff happened” is because I know there are people out there stumbling in the darkness that is depression who want to know what it’s like.)

I never did drugs. People laughed at Bill Clinton when he said he smoked pot, but “did not inhale.” I feel you, Bubba, I could never really get the hang of it either. I was high maybe twice in high school. I’ve done Delta 8 since people swear by CDB and all it’s offshoots for pain relief (I have crippling back pain from degenerative disk disease and spinal arthritis). So I have a vague idea what getting “high” is, but tripping? No clue. I might drink once or twice a year. For the most part, my mind is one of the few things I truly possess (if just barely), I’ve never liked the idea of using substances that could potentially make me a stranger to my own inner self. I hate Delta 8, HATE it. It affects my ability to form short term memories. I refer to it as “roofie-ing” myself.

Acid, magic mushrooms? I had no frame of reference.

And if you don’t either, here’s exactly what it’s like: living in album covers for an hour.

I actual fed the prompt “Describing the cover of ‘Unknown Pleasures’ to someone who has never seen it before” in to my WONDER AI generator and got some pretty close representations of what I saw.

I was instructed before my first transfusion to just get on Spotify and look for “curated ketamine playlist” to listen to during my trip. I found the equivalent of “oooohhmmmm” bells and hippy, navel contemplation stuff. Nothing I read mentioned anything about the vital nature of having good music with you on your journey.

My first trip was a bad needle situation (they learned to give me Clonidine beforehand to get me to calm down enough to submit my arm without hyperventilating. The first experience being a painful one conditioned me to fear all future experiences there unfortunately. Like I said, Kind Lady has been just right with the needle, but the other lady who works there… no… not so much). I didn’t switch to my Ohhhmmm playlist. I left it on my Salim Nourallah playlist. Initially, I was just trying to calm myself, but once the IV was started, the trip happened so fast I was already falling before I realized.

This has made all the difference.

I related this to Kind Lady later and she said there was no way to tell. She knows a very quiet, unassuming gent (I swear she said he was a doctor or some sort of medical professional) that takes gangster rap on his trips.

My cousin is a Physician’s Assistant. She said she had seen people come out of Ketamine situations in emergency rooms (used to set bones and such) where people who were unprepared would flip out (have a bad trip.)

I, personally, have only had pleasant experiences (except for the recent bouts of nausea). You are responsible for setting the tone for your own experience. As someone whose depression has been a lifelong companion, my mind isn’t a bright or cheerful place per se, but I know myself. It’s been a relatively intuitive process. I don’t watch scary movies beforehand. I try to just be calm and collected. Stay peaceful. The limbic system doesn’t know the difference between watching/listening to emotionally fraught material or experiencing it so I try not to take chances.

Being accompanied in to my first trip by a familiar voice was so deeply comforting. Salim Nourallah is my favorite singer, but he also happens to be a dear friend and fantastic human being to boot.

Ketamine (again this is all purely subjective. Everyone’s experiences will be different) creates any level of dissociative experiences for the user. I don’t know if it’s just because I don’t have experience with “substances,” I but I disassociate… hard.

Complete dissolution of self. Out of body. Soaring. Flying. Falling. Colors.

Because music is so much part of my psychological make up, it’s sounds, colors and textures interpreted in musical context: album covers.

I have cried a lot. The feeling returns gradually to my fingers and toes, my eyes stop jittering in their sockets and reach up to feel my sleep mask is wet. The feeling/theme to all my trips has just been overwhelming gratitude. I feel so much love for those people I have in my life who continue to stand by me no matter how the darkness sometimes affects my mind.

Ketamine for me is half medical treatment, half vision quest. As I the chemicals wear off and I can feel myself again, I try to listen to anything I was told. Call it messages from the subconscious, whatever you want. I’ve come out wanting to reach out to certain people. I sent a message to someone else I knew of who has severe depression (a voice actor on a podcast I’ve listened to for years). He let me send him a care package of little, cheerful things. Another trip, I came out and message someone I used to think of as a friend who hadn’t spoken to me in 12+ years. I cast the missive out in to the digital sea not expecting anything back… but he responded.

I curated a special playlist of songs I wanted to “disintegrate to” and have emerged and tweaked it each trip. No song has tilted the trip to the negative, but I have taken one band off (who shall remain nameless) as – under the influence – the singer acquired super human powers of grating annoyance.

I am allowing myself Flaming Lips songs even though I have been estranged from my fandom in their regard for over a decade now. But you have to admit: for tripping, they are kind of perfect.

I return to Salim though. His voice is consistently silvery blue. “Miette” became so achingly beautiful I could barely stand it. There are not words to describe how meaningful it is it have the voice of a friend accompanying me in the darkness.

My playlist:

#ketamine #khole #major depressive disorder #major depression #infusion #treatment #music #curate #salim nourallah #flaming lips #u2 #darkness #depression #playlist #special k #psychadelic #dissasociation #out of body #Spotify

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wolffire666 · 1 year

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My friend told me to share this (Please read)

All events in this story are true.

I shot awake. An intense feeling of being watched rushed down my spine. I felt sick to the stomach. Sweat formed on the nape of my neck. My room was ice cold. I look over at my clock. 5:55. I have to get ready for school, but I felt paralysed. I couldn’t move. My dog sensed something was off and licked my hand. I snapped out of the dissociative state I was in. The feeling of being watched was gone and my room was warm again. After getting dressed, I looked out of my bedroom window. The snow has melted leaving everything wet and icy. The sky was black with a few stars sparkling faintly. The world was still. Nothing was moving. The wind was non-existent. I left my room and went to brush my teeth. The lights seem dimmer than normal, with one flickering more often than it used to. My toothbrush seemed oddly quiet, but I brushed it off. I finished getting ready for school, my lunch was packed, and my backpack was filled with the papers and books I needed for the day.

The sky was still pitch black, but now a thick blanket of clouds was in the sky and no stars could be seen. I took a deep breath and when I exhaled, watched as it clouded in front of my face. It was a sharp cold day. The kind where you feel it stab at your throat when you breathe in too deeply. The kind of day where you just want to stay inside, because if you don’t your fingers and toes seem to freeze. I looked at my phone. It was 6:25, time to start walking. It only takes a few minutes before I feel like I’m being watched again. This time, I’m by the corner of my block near a white house. There was a car in the driveway, a small gray Honda. Next to it though, is what scared me the most.

There was a large black figure, about 6 feet tall standing at the passenger side door. Its upper limbs leaned inside of the window, it seemed to be grabbing for something. But how? The window was closed. I was walking as slow as I could, my breath gone. I stepped on a twig. I stop in my tracks. I looked over at the car. The figure was looking at me. Its eyes are glowing red or yellow. I could feel it snarling. It bent over backwards, it’s now on all fours with what looks like its chest in the air. It turned to face me, its eyes trained on me, I felt my heart pounding. It cocked its head to the side. We stayed looking at each other for what seemed like hours. I twitched. It hissed and made an ear splitting scream as it ran on all fours behind the house. It was still facing me as it ran. I felt sick. I started to cry. I could feel my tears slowly evaporating from my cheeks. I shook violently. I practically ran to meet my friend so we could walk to the bus stop.

When I got to their house I finally stopped crying, I was still shaking though. I looked at my phone. It was only 6:30. I quickly texted them that I was there. We got onto the bus. I didn’t feel like I was being watched anymore. The rest of the day went by fine. But every time I walked by that house, I held my breath and rushed by not looking at the driveway.

I’m not sure what happened that day, but I know that what I ran into was supernatural and other worldly, but I have no clue what it was. And honestly, if I run into it again someday, I don’t know what will happen.

I guess to add on to it, for awhile before the encounter I was having nightmares about a large figure chasing me down the streets of my town at night. The moon being high in the sky and bigger than normal. Through my eyes everything was warped and distorted. A slight smell of wet leaves filled the air. Whenever I woke up from them I’d be paralyzed to my bed. Sleep paralysis plagued me almost every night up until I saw the thing in real life. When in the sleep paralysis I could see the figure in the corner of my eye just watching me. It never moved. It just stood their slightly hunched over in the corner of my room.

I hope someone knows what this is, I haven’t seen or dreamed about in months and I’m scared it might come back to do more harm, but I don’t know. Sorry that this was so lengthy, I felt like I had to put a lot of detail into it so it could make more sense and not sound fake or that it could be explained easily, I know some might say it is fake, and I’m not really trying to prove it’s existence, I just want to know what it was.

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catintheruemorgue · 3 years

Text

annoying things they do

summary: small things these guys do that just grinds your gears a bit.

characters: oda, dazai, kunikida, twain, akutagawa, atsushi, mori, poe, ranpo, fittzgerald, steinbeck, chuuya, yosano, gin, kouyou, higuchi, alcott and lucy

these are all based off things i do or have inconvenienced my life lmfao i’ll probs do a part two with everyone i missed this just got wayyy to long lol next im posting being friends with double black

Oda:

If you're wearing shorts and have bruises he will poke them when you're resting your legs on him. He’s silent about it too and if you yell at him he pretends to act like he doesn't know what you're talking about.

Will smack your sunburn but this one is actually an accident. He just wanted to pat you on the back because you're amazing.

Will space out when you talk too long, sometimes certain objects are just so… mesmerizing

Dazai:

Loves to jumpscare you the only exception is if it was a trigger. In that case he will just call your name and whip something at you for you to catch at random.

When you're driving he likes to reach over and honk your horn. It's almost caused so many roadside fistfights.

If he sees a dog in public he will bark and growl at it.

Kunikida:

Won’t let you on the bed without socks on. You could be sick as a dog and he’ll still enforce this rule.

Cleaning is hard because he has a hard time throwing things away. You'll spend extra time as he holds two identical pens, trying to decide which one he wants to keep. He’s learned to plan certain days in his schedule for cleaning now.

Won't let you turn up the music in the car and will keep it at a level that's so low it's annoying.

Twain:

Walks around the house shirtless but then complains about how cold it is.

Blasts his music so loud when he wakes up in the morning and it's always early 2000’s hits. It's not rare for you to have Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield stuck in your head by 9 am.

Always has to climb something, this stems from his adventurous side. It's not really that annoying but when you’re in a crowded area and he runs off to go climb the tall statue, screaming at you to take a photo… Yes it is. Especially when children try and follow him and you're stuck receiving glares from the parents.

Akutagawa:

Will not let you throw any food products out. He tells you it's a perfectly good meal (even if it's not) and that he will eat it tomorrow. It’s sad because you know this stems from childhood but it’s still annoying.

Reuses the same gross, musty ziplock baggies. You keep buying new ones but he doesn't get it lol.

Will tell you if your breath smells, hair is messy, outfit is ugly. He does not see an issue with this and it's nice knowing someone has your back but he doesn't have to be so rude about it..

Atsushi:

If he drinks he's one of those drinkers who will not let you take it from him. Keeps an iron grip on the cup. He finishes it no matter how drunk and always throws up. Thankfully he rarely drinks.

He stops to help everyone, literally even if they just look like they need help. You've been late to so many things.

Will eat anything. Once you made steak and somehow forgot about it. It was hard as a brick yet he still almost broke his teeth eating it. You think you saw some tears as he told you it was delicious.

Mori:

Listens to people's conversations in public and isn't afraid to comment, loudly, about it. You know it's loud because they either stop talking or try and confront you guys.

Comes up to stops fast and brakes so hard you feel like he does it on purpose.

Sometimes if he and Elise get into a “disagreement” he’ll try and rope you in to take his side and you always do, knowing it would probably give him more satisfaction if you chose to side with her.

Poe:

Asks for constructive criticism but will then argue with you about why you're wrong.

Always humming a song he heard Twain singing and then it gets stuck in your head too.

Will deny stupid things like why your favorite mug is in the trash or why he just let out rather loud scream in the bathroom. You know he's lying because he looks away and makes sure his bangs are covering his eyes.

Ranpo:

Will call you out on any lie even if you don't mean to lie you just forgot about some of the details.

Don't take him grocery shopping if you have a set amount you want to spend. He won't even sneak, he will just say he wants something and throw it in the cart.

Such a backseat driver even though he can't drive.

Fitzgerald:

Likes to act like he's still in his twenties and will somehow get the two of you invited to college parties where he will attempt to do a kegger in front of everyone. You end up being the one to hold him up and he always ends with a, “LETS FUCKING GO!”

Likes to ask for the senior discount even though he's not that old, he just likes to hear the women validate that he's not old.

It’s scary how he used to buy without looking and now will scream if the price on a price tag is too high.

Steinbeck:

Always looking at the grass for wheat to chew on. It's so cheesy when you walk into the city and he's got it sticking out of his mouth.

He gets weirdly intimate with nature and you feel like you're third wheeling.

Has the mentality that he has to provide for you because he is the man. He gets so shocked when he finds out you still want to work.

Chuuya:

Has a hard time making decisions you could ask him what he wants for dinner and his mind will just break.

Gets way too pissed at movies and will actually get up and walk away. Once you were kicked out of the theater because he wouldn't stop yelling at the screen. Another time he walked out you waited a whole ten minutes before you realized he wasn't coming back.

Sometimes activates his ability at night and it's so scary waking up to him floating halfway across the room.

WOMAN TIME!!!!!!!!!!

Yosano:

Will glare at you so intensely if you say something she disagrees with.

Always tries to rope you into drinking with her even if you’ve said no the past ten nights.

Will describe wounds or injuries in such detail and just won’t stop, almost like she’s trying to fuck with you, but she’s not.

Gin:

Claims to be nothing like her big brother but then will go on to make the same facial expressions and do some of the same mannerisms as him.

Will spend hours trying things on just to put it all back, leave the store and change her mind when you’re almost home. Then she’ll have you run back with her to buy it all.

Is used to sneaking around so scares you a lot. Also on the topic of being silent sometimes she just won’t respond, thinking you can just read her vibes / mind.

Kouyou:

Will judge what you eat, especially fast food but will try and steal a fry in private when you're not looking.

Will say things like, “Well that's just the way the world works.” If someone tries to share their baggage with her. You understand she’s had a pretty rough life but it's caused you to almost spit out your drink multiple times.

At functions forgets about you for about an hour while she mingles with everyone else, you could tap on her shoulder and she'll dismiss you like you're a subordinate. Until you clear your throat again you'll see the slight blush as she apologizes.

Higuchi:

She has no sense of privacy. If she hears a crash or loud noise she will bust down the door. It’s sweet but not when the noises are usually from you knocking all the shampoo bottles down again.

Horrible road rage actually puts you on edge to be in the car with her. She doesn't even have to be driving.

Likes to act like she's a professional at everything and people usually believe it because of her suit. It's so nerve wracking when she giggles when they walk away with false information.

Alcott:

Will agree to everything you suggest but you can only tell when she doesn’t want to do it when you’re currently doing it.

Yet she’s not afraid to grumble about how annoying it is when someone bumps into you and doesn’t apologize. It’s sweet but you’re left dealing with the situation if the person is aggressive enough to say something.

Always corrects your spelling or if you say something like “I could care less.”

Lucy:

Will fish for compliments in a very obvious way like, “Wow. Wish someone would call me pretty..” and then just stare right at you.

Kicks you so violently in her sleep but won't let go of you so you cant get away.

Constantly stealing from restaurants. You're banned from a couple restaurants because she got caught trying to steal a cup or salt shaker.

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

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Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate.

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.”

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door.

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?”

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!”

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #caitsy and ash productions

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Keep holding my hand.

Harry was in an emotionally abusive relationship before y/n, something happens that makes his insecurities float back.

Impetuous reel of dithery thoughts rapidly bustles on the wall, Harry stares at it blankly – he stares and stares and stares ..... yet it does nothing for what he wishes.

His stomach fills with acid and his mouth burns with foulness with each painful beat his heart gives realizing maybe this's the end ---- he doesn’t spare a glance to the dinner wafting off he cooked with much happiness looking forward to tonight.

Where did I went wrong?

Did I hurt her in any way? What if she didn’t like me popping up at her studio that day to remind her of tonight

Well Keat didn’t like it ..... She used to hate it Infact,

No! She’s not like keat —--

But, then why isn’t she picking your phone? She knew, promised and she still didn’t came tonight?

What if she’s sick? Fuck, then I should go to her.

He shuts his screaming conscience down, shoving the heels of his palm against his pop-sockets wearily to make him feel something --- to escape the hurt that’s looming around him, crushing and squeezing him to death.

He blows off the candles, melted to their base from being sorrowfully lit from three hours atleast --- mocking him and his sincerity.

You deserve this.

Why did y’think ye' deserved anybody’s love?

She doesn’t love you anymore --- just like keat....

The corners of his glossy eyes prickles with pearly tears and it drops down his clavicles, with blurry vision he dials her one last time and it goes straight to her voicemail alike past three hours.

Hiya, Y/N here! Leave a message ‘cos I mighty be busy or maybe lazyin' round the farthest corner of my home .......

He tosses and turns, does it manifold times --- his sleep betrays him too and he’s angry soaring with venom, if he could scream from a cliff and throw stones down the pound furiously he'd instead his eyes runs droopy.

His shuddering breath sulks to tranquillity, all he could hear’s a screech of wind that’s hitting the window and his guts.

His body jerks at the chirp of voice he’s oh so familiar with —- other days he'd be submerging in the honeyness of it but at the moment he bites down his wrist to keep him wrenching his empty stomach out.

“Happy anniversary, bub!” His brows clinches down into a grumblish frown and he presses his hand between his thighs turning his back upon hearing the careful steps treading in.

The creaking stalls and she stands at his doorway with heavy heart, her throat —-- uff her throat feels like as if someone punched it several times.

Not letting her tongue to utter any word —- anything that’d assure him and her, everything’s alright --- it’s not a big deal.

Ofcourse, it is!

Little things matters most to him – told you —- he .. — he told you himself and you hurt him, you hurt him just because you couldn’t stand to your boss.

She wanted it to be perfect for him, for them — winded up the work her boss hoarded on her mercilessly last minute demanding her to wrap it up in an hour --- felt giddy and motivated to do it speedily looking forward to their celebration. Bought his favourite chocolate moose cake standing in the line of his favourite bakery, since he doesn’t like any other flavour.

She stands at the side bed looking down at him, heartbreaking in million pieces seeing him torn, all teary cheeks and this stoic for the first time they’ve been dating.

“’M sorry -- I –- my boss trapped me and – ‘n I really wanted to call you —-- then it took me forever at your favourite bakery, I’m so sorry baby.” She rambles nebbish-ly and catches onto his shoulder when he tries to face away from her.

He mutters, “Forget bout it. Go back home ‘s getting late.” Though, his heart lurches forward to embrace her and shower her in kisses telling her “it’s totally fine.” And that “how bout we celebrate now,” but being an emotionally sensitive person has it's very cons and one of it is requiring space and time to recover for better thinking.

His eyes slips into abyss and he holds back a sniffle when he feels the mattress dip behind him, she sighs, coos in the softest voice she only keeps it for her lover, “Oh baby .... you’re my home.” She's well aware of the anxiety he goes through. He feels like everything crumbling but she's there to catch him and she rubs his back.

The many many reassurances he needs from his lovie to keep going for them, the praises for him for treating her like the most precious daffodil —- because he never got praised before; even though how much of the world’s luxuries he'd lay at his ex's feet was never assured that how much she loves him (because she never did).

Y/N would never want his insecurities to float back and sting his scars, she'd never want him to ever go through from what he did in past —-- to be used like a toy and manipulated, might sound weird and whumpy of her but she’d kill many dragons to keep him protected at any cost.

He sleeps with her body cocooning him from behind and his erratic breath syncs to her calm ones.

His dreams full of suffering, void and darkness violently clashing and swirling against eachother as the ugly creature takes Y/N away from him, leaving him in prison of his own pathetic head.

Fear of loss —- he fears loosing her and does it make him toxic? He was snubbed so many times – being told his behaviour was toxic that he’d hesitate before doing anything precisely very fondly caring —- but then Y/N came in his life and she'd tell him how much she appreciates him, how he’s like the best sundae in hot summer and he felt like she’s the sunshine he was waiting for in the never-ending rainy days.

Y/N stirs from her light sleep on hearing the broken whimpers, the valley of her chest moist as he cries into her and she cups his cheeks gazing down at him concerned, “What happened sunny .... baby talk to me ...” Her voice groggy and on verge of tearing.

She sits back a little with him still between her legs and wipes his tears away gently, “I’m so sorry ...” He mumbles –-- eyes bloodshot and she shakes her head pulling him closer, if she’d be able to cradle him in his lap she'd but apparently he’s too big.

Queasy hiccups, “f – fo'--... d —- dou...” sad sniffles and hiccups that tightens his chest.

She tenders his wobbly lip kissing his temple, “shhh. shhh, puppy I should be the one apologising yeah?”

“no .. I didn’t gave another thought before doubting --- that –-- that you’re about to leave, no person in right mind does this – I —-,” His body trembles with blue sobs.

“Harry ...” she tries to gain his attention and when he still doesn’t listen, “I know I don’t deserve y'n – ‘n maybe you don’t want me anymore —--” she raises it a bit, “Harry!” he falls quiet --- nibbling the corner of his cheek to hold back hiccups.

“Look at me puppy, yeah? Shh hold my hand and take a breather.” She smiles. Takes his sweaty hand and aligns his palm to her mouth for a deep kiss – then squeezes it.

“Keep holding it baby, keep holding my hand, you’re going to be fine --- we – see us here,” she points between them with gleamy eyes and he nods timidly wiping his nose with his sweater paw, “we are fine baby –- we are okay..”

How could someone be this dreamy? This gentle and sweet? What did I do to deserve my lovie?

“Better?” She inquires. Little worried that he'll fall back into rabbit hole and tucks his head under her chin, keeping him warm against her chest and he clutches the hem of her shirt nuzzling into her.

“Did you really think, I’d leave you and that on our first year anniversary? Sorry to tell you .... ‘m stitched to your hip for life time, there’s no exchange policy puppy how much you grump.”

She grins. Happy to earn a feeble chuckle from him and scratches his head, looping his curls around her fingers.

“I love you.” She startles when he speaks hoarsely after the longest time and it’s not like he's saying it for the first –-- but it still doesn’t fail to engulf her in warmth, so much of it.

“I love you too, you’re my only puppy and very loved one.” His eyes crinkles prettily at that and she kisses the tip of his nose.

“You want to rest? We could eat the dinner you dearly made for me and oh we got moose cake in fridge too, what a coincidence!” She giggles. The room fills with wet treacly noises of smoochy kisses she’s patching on his cheeks and his jaw.

Without a word he holds her finger and leads her to kitchen, she creates proud noises of “ooh!” and “ahh!” trying to sneak a glimpse from over his shoulder but he'd shoo her away as he heats the food; she gets out gorgeous smiles from him she cherishes so much.

“You did all of this for me?” She gasps sweetly, hand over heart to accentuate the love she's feeling and walks towards him when he nods timidly rubbing his socks feetsies one over the other.

His cheeks blazes peach and she giggles pinching them, “You’re so cute aren’t you?”

“Okay then. Let’s eat!” she claps her hands together and pecks his lips before pulling her chair beside him rather than opposite to him and his heart flutters at that --- each pore oozing with deep love for her and every insecurity and anxious ideas completely drains out of him when she pats his seat and wiggles in her own --- anticipated to taste what he made.

“Hmm. This tastes so good, H! Your hands are really magical, huh?” She passes him a smirk pecking each of his knuckle to make him feel better about himself and his lips quirks up softly, “Thank you – d’ya w'na umm eat the moose here o'in bed?” Her face beams at that, him speaking more than two words and looking forward to spend the night with her.

“On bed, please –-- would you like tea? Think ‘m running out of if —- proper jello ....” She cleans the table and raises her brows when he gazes her adorningly as she’s the nymphs of stary oceans.

He shakes his head, nose twitchy as she nudges him teasingly and he takes her off-guard --- hugging her by waist and kisses her soft tummy.

“Nothing just love you bleedin’ much.”

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annaizscribbling · 2 years

Note

"I feel like I never really knew you." with Janus and any other Side(s) of your choosing as a prompt!

Hope you have fun writing, An 😊💛

I was listening to Mitski so this got real sad real quick but I enjoyed writing it. I did not proofread this whoops

Janus falls more ill than he ever had before, and has accepted whatever fate befalls him, instead, somebody shows up to help.

Platonic (Maybe parental?) Patton and Janus

Warnings for descriptions of death, guilt, sickness, and vomit.

wordcount: 2222

Janus wondered if the searing pain would ever grace his body by leaving him. It was the only thought he had left to grasp onto. Everything was too far away to be tangible, too blurry and distant to grab. Even passing thoughts of Thomas were too difficult to rest on. Everything got drowned and pummeled by the tormented waves of agony that crashed into every inch of his psyche.

He begged for a release, but none came, even just sleep would be equally kind, just a reprieve would be enough, but sleep wouldn’t come, it refused, it taunted him then danced away. Janus couldn’t remember the last time he slept; it must have been days ago. Days of laying sprawled in the center of his room, writhing in agonizing pain.

The violent flames that burned beneath his flesh blazed on without mercy, and the sweat dripping from his brow refused to let up. It was as if his entire skin was as tender as a fresh bruise, and Janus could no longer make out what was perspiration, what were tears, and what was blood, from where he had scratched and ripped at the pain with his nails in a desperate attempt to alleviate his suffering.

He sucked in a rattling breath of hot air. Everything was hot and humid from his boiling tears and raging fever. It was like being burned alive from the inside. His head felt like it was going to split open, like steam was being pumped in between his skull.

Everything hurts.

He didn’t know if he was talking out loud. The first few days he tried, tried to remain presentable, dignified, strong. He had to be. He had to stay in one piece, because the chances of ever being able stitching himself together again afterwards were too low to risk.

But he crumbled.

Janus didn’t care for dignity anymore. He ran out of fight. He whispered and begged and sobbed and whimpered to the dark corners of his room. At first, he hoped nobody would hear his pitiful wails, but now it didn’t matter. He was cruel and hateful, filled with malice in the eyes of those he resented. They hated him, he hated them and now he was sinking.

Maybe he wasn’t so powerful. Maybe he was fragile, and weak and maybe always was. Maybe he wouldn’t pick himself up again. Maybe he’ll sink deeper into the hardwood flooring of his room and remain there forever and ever. Perhaps he will become the ground and rot.

He wasn’t strong enough; he wouldn’t survive long enough to wipe his tears and stand up again. He would never get up.

No more would he pierce others with his sly comments and cruel grins. He wouldn’t be able to toy with them, or carefully set the stage to control the show. No more petty jabs and that habit he developed where he runs his tongue over his fangs. No more moments when his temper gets the best of him, and he has to reel it in long enough to lie until he wins. No more obsessive strategizing for hours and hours, desperate to win, desperate to succeed.

Janus felt his mouth grow saltier. His face was slick with tears and sweat. His scales itched like ants buzzing over his skin. He was seeing spots and hearing a ringing in his ears.

Everything hurts.

Most of his clothes were strewn around him, having been torn from his body in a panic when the heat first escalated. It hadn’t been better since, it only got worse. He had thrown up twice, each time on account of moving too quickly. All he could do was roll away from it and sob into the floor.

It was a fitting way to go though, wasn’t it?

Janus was far too wicked to deserve a peaceful passing. Or even a tastefully dramatic one. He would die slowly, in a gentle decent into hell. He would shut down piece by piece, only able to despair as he felt every ounce of pain. He wouldn’t be himself when he died, he would be stripped of each defense and strength he had acquired. Janus would die in the most painful, pitiful way imaginable.

And nobody would care.

Virgil had left him for something better and brighter the moment he had the chance. He kicked them to the curb and turned on him as if they were nothing.

Remus was more complicated, sometimes Janus wondered if he ever felt anything, but Janus swore to try and care for him each and every day. He did his best, it may not have been enough, but he tried to fashion the darker side of Creativity into some kind of person. He’d never find out if it worked, but he tried, he pushed himself to the limit every day, if only to try.

The other twin despised him these days, almost rightly so. Janus had hardly been kind to him, in the past it was on account of his brother, but recently, the prince was a tool he used and discarded, and in retaliation, the prince had viciously lashed out. Janus couldn’t care, he refused to, but if he did, he might begin to feel guilt.

Logan was too small to really resent when they first parted ways, but Janus had certainly prodded and pushed the side into staying down and out of the way, so there was probably little good will there.

He gasped in pain when a white-hot burst of new pain streaked down in his side, it was like being sliced open with a dull blade, and he quite nearly passed out, but his body wouldn’t let him. Maybe he was wicked, but he internally still begged for a release anyway.

Everything hurts.

Janus was ready to give up. Ready to just let go and drown. His unceremonious death would begin as soon as he just gave in and bit the bullet. A lifetime of pain and heartbreak would release its hold.

But then a cooled hand gently traced the side of his forehead, and the shock of its coldness alleviating his pain sent a sob through his ravaged throat.

“Hey Jan,” a voice whispered, “you’re burning up, aren’t you?”

Even just the presence of another person was enough to overwhelm Janus’ senses. He wanted to speak but couldn’t think of any words to say, or a way of forcing his body to cooperate enough to say something.

“Let’s get you off the floor,” the voice said gently.

Janus was so dizzy he couldn’t make out who was speaking, but the voice hit him like cascading rain over brittle ground. More tears streamed down his tacky skin, hitting the base of his neck.

“I’ve got ya, we’re just gonna scootch over here away from the mess, okay? I won’t move you too quickly.” the voice said as he slipped his arms beneath Janus’s torso and carefully slid him a few yards over.

Janus’ weak grip clung to the other person’s arm, the material of his shirt was soft and cottony, but nowhere near as hot as his own bare skin.

The person was talking but it sounded too far away to register, but Janus still relished in the company and the coolness of their hand against his forehead.

He nearly sobbed in relief when a deliciously cold cloth was applied to his face, gently wiping away the grime and salty aftertouch from days of sweating and weeping. Janus crumpled further into the merciful coolness of the cloth, breathing in painfully.

“It’s okay kiddo, just relax, lemme sponge you down here.”

The cloth was quickly refreshed and used over his chest and neck, leaving a cold dampness over him.

“Think you can drink some water for me?” The person asked.

Janus would have nodded if he could, but his head was spinning too rapidly to do so.

The freezing rim of a glass was pressed against his lips, and he drank like a dying flower. It began to cool him even further and Janus did let out a few sobs at that.

The cool hand was back, but this time in his hair, gently carding through his greasy locks. There was a delicate shushing sound as the cloth returned, then the water, then a thermometer against his forehead, then the cycle continued for awhile as Janus very slowly cooled down. He was fully leaned into his savior, who was so cool and gentle and real.

“Hey kiddo,” the voice returned, as soothing as before. “Do you think you can swallow some medicine for me?”

Janus did manage to nod this time, not moving his head from the person’s arm where he was resting the side of his scalp.

A spoon was maneuvered into his mouth with a gross but hardly unbearable substance that stuck to the sides of his mouth. The glass of water followed, but this time with the faint tinkle of ice cubes bouncing against the sides of the cup to tell him just how cold it was.

“I’m so sorry kiddo,” The voice said at some point, even quieter than before.

Janus managed a sleepy hum in question.

“I should have checked on you earlier, before Remus had to come get me. It took a lot for him to do that, at least I think, but he shouldn’t have had to.” The person went back to running his hand through Janus’ hair, which he appreciated. “I didn’t want to overstep any new boundaries, but I absolutely should have checked. I’m so sorry.”

Janus didn’t really process any of it, he just yawned into Patton’s shoulder.

Wait.

His exhausted brain reeled.

Patton.

“No!”

A jolt ran through his body as he tried to pull backwards, but he was too weak to move much. He shoved himself back again and nearly fell onto the floor behind him, but Patton was quick to catch his head before it hit the hardwood flooring.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Patton kept his voice soft as he very carefully pulled him close again, loosely but securely wrapping him in a hug as if he were but a small child. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you, just relax buddy.”

Janus squirmed for a moment, panic setting in. Patton couldn’t see him like this, so weak, so small, so pathetic and useless and not at all what he wanted to be seen as.

“You’re going to hurt yourself kiddo, just take a big breath, okay? Like this,” Patton took in a slow breath as an example, and Janus reluctantly followed suit, eyes teary and bitter.

“Good job, I’m proud of you,” Patton whispered to him.

Janus resisted the fresh wave of tears building behind his eyes. “Why?” he said in a creaky voice, barely understandable.

“Because you’re really sick, Jan, everything is really hard right now, even the little things, but you did it, and I’m so, so proud of you.”

Deceit sank into Patton’s chest as if to hide, his tears wet on Patton’s polo. He bit back a sob. “Why?”

“I just told you kiddo.” Patton said as he rubbed Janus’ back in small circles.

“Why me?” Janus grit his teeth to hold his stubborn tears at bay.

“You deserve it,” Patton whispered, “You need help, and you deserve to be held for a while.”

“Why can’t you just hate me?” Janus growled as he leaned in closer.

“Because you don’t deserve to be hated. You never did.”

Janus lost to a strangled sob, hoarsely fighting him from the back of his throat. “I hate you.” He managed between his tears.

Patton didn’t lull in the comforting circle pattern he was rubbing into Janus’s back. “That’s okay.” He said softly.

“You make it so hard.” Janus said bitterly, still keeping his head tucked safely onto Patton’s chest.

“I’m sorry.”

"I feel like I never really knew you." Janus whispered distantly.

Patton shifted one hand to Janus’ head again and stroked his hair. “I have a long way to go, but you’re always welcome to try.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, you don’t need to know until you want to.”

Janus didn’t answer, he just let his tears silently drip onto Patton’s shirt. He let the coolness of him sink into his own skin. He breathed slowly, taking in the aching pain as it dulled. His head hurt, but he doubted it would get any better than where it rested there.

“I’m tired now.” Janus announced, feeling even more like an aimless child.

“I can get you to bed.” Patton offered, not stopping the comforting motions.

“No.”

“Stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, kiddo. Whatever you need.”

Janus allowed his eyes to shut, and for the first time in days, he felt his body drift to sleep. He was more sick than he could ever remember being, curled up against Patton’s chest, sitting in his lap like a child. Janus could never have imaged it, but there he was, and there he felt safe.

He was ready to sleep now.

But before he could, he resettled himself.

“Patton?” he asked.

“Mmm?”

“Don’t leave.” Janus said quietly.

“Whatever you need from me.” Patton agreed softly.

And Janus slipped into a deep sleep, and even when he awoke, 6 hours later, Patton hadn’t moved from beneath him.

#janus sanders #patton sanders #platonic moceit #writing #anais writes #fic #fanfiction #sander sides #thomas sanders

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s1ater · 3 years

Text

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs.

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home.

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you.

eli.

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night.

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself.

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was.

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face.

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car.

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination.

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy.

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them.

because he wanted to fuck you.

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made.

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew.

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on.

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do.

but you really wondered.

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.”

wow, really?

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent.

fuck.

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad.

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about.

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s.

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him.

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard.

“anytime, princess.”

masterlist

💒

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falloutjay · 3 years

Note

Can you please do Mysterion falling in love with a Civilian reader?

I was done much faster than expected honestly!

And Im pretty happy with my outcome and I hope so are you. I love Mysterion/ Kenny and was super happy to see a request for him, so thank you for that! (ɔ◔︣‿◔︣)ɔ ❤

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Mysterion x civillian!reader

“Stretch here….Ah….And a stretch there…Ha..” A deep voice mumbled. The tall and hooded figure enjoyed the newfound relieve and his eyes wandered once more over the streets below him.

Just an hour and Toolshed would take over.

Tonight, the hero known as Mysterion was bored out of his mind. Nothing really happened. No robberies. No drunk people causing problems. Not even a little bit of arguing.

He was happy of course, that nothing happened means that they did their job well. But a five-hour shift of just looking out and being on guard if anything happens can be annoying from time to time. Kenny, his civilian name, was just done for tonight.

He had this horrible headache, that came back ever so often after an especially violent fight with his arch nemesis Professor Chaos.

His body longed for a good long sleep and he was even a little hungry.

Oh, how he would kill for that half-eaten Bagel that was in the fridge at the hero hideout.

“Focus.” Mysterion reminded himself again and took a deep breath.

“Toolshed will be here soon, then we can sleep. We do this for Karen.” Just thinking about his little sister helped him regain control of his wandering thoughts and to get a better look at the city below him, he sat down at the edge of the building he was on and let his legs dangle in the air.

The streets looked so peaceful at… Blue eyes scanned the smartwatch display… 1 in the morning already.

Lazily, but still attentively those same blue eyes wandered from left to right and right to left, taking in everything that was going on, which wasn’t much. Just some people chatting her and there since he was close to the bars and clubs of the city.

Nothing of interest until a person caught his eye. They were young and seemingly alone, walking at a quick pace and looking somewhat out of place as they didn’t look like your typical party goer.

So naturally the hero was intrigued. He carefully got up and followed the young person that walked on the streets below.

Elegantly he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to keep up with the somewhat fast person he followed.

He didn’t do this because he was some kind of creep, but his gut feeling told him this was the right thing. Something seemed fishy and his gut had never disappointed him before.

And it really never disappointed him before, but he felt like an idiot after five more minutes of following. Maybe for once his gut was wrong? It looked like they arrived at their home and tried unlocking their door.

Mysterion let out a sigh, questioning if Toolshed had maybe already arrived? Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a commotion from below.

He peeked over the edge and the person he was following was now pressed against the door they had tried to open. Some tall man held them there and looked rather angry.

“I will never doubt you again.” Mysterion mumbled as he got ready to jump down. He landed as quiet as a cat and approached the two.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N. Why were you there?”

“Like I said, I just went and got my books back. Stop following me or I will call the police.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me, dipshit.”

“Leave them alone.” Mysterion now called out and stood firm just a few feet away.

“Wha-” The man mumbled, letting go of the other person. He now approached the hero and mustered him.

“What kind of clown are you?” He said and got all up in Mysterions face. The blonde could easily smell the alcohol in his breath as he asked the question.

“The only clown I see is you.” Mysterion growled, trying to look as intimidating as he could.

Which he did with ease.

The man scoffed, looking at the person he had followed one more time before leaving angrily.

Mysterion approached the still shocked person leaning on their door. “You alright?” Now Mysterions had the time to properly look at their face and he felt warm inside, despite the cold air.

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks to you. Thank you for getting rid of him.” The blonde loved the sound of their voice. Wow, it sounded so brilliant and lovely in his ears.

“Who was that anyway?” Mysterion questioned as the person opened the door.

“My stupid jealous ex. It has been over for ages now, but he just keeps bugging me. I was picking up some book from my study buddy and he must have gone crazy.”

“Glad to hear he is an ex.” Mysterion said charmingly, a confident smile on his lips. “Yeah, me too.” The person kept standing there, not making a move to actually go inside just yet.

“May I know your name?” Mysterion asked. “It is Y/N. May I know my saviors name?” They asked, cocking their head and with a bright smile on their face.

“Mysterion.”

“You’re one of those heroes who watches over the town right? Like in the comics?” The hero laughed. His smokey voice was like a bittersweet melody in Y/N ears.

“Pretty much yeah.”

“That’s so cool honestly. That I would get a hero’s help someday… How lucky I must be. Maybe we will see each other again, Mysterion?” “I sure hope so. Good night, Y/N.”

Mysterion said, turning around to climb up a drainpipe to get back on the roofs. “Good night, Mysterion!” Y/N called out before disappearing inside.

Up on the roof, the hero could finally let go of his super serious façade and immediately he bit his lip. Normally he had no trouble keeping his civilian persona and Mysterion separate but goddamn that Y/N?

They actually had him stumble over his thoughts for a second.

“Okay, lets meet up with Toolshed and then we are fine.” He said to himself and quickly went on his way.

A gloved hand went through golden locks and a dreamy sigh escaped pale peach lips. The owner of said things almost jumped up in surprise when a hand slammed down on his desk.

That hand belonged to a fellow superhero, named Human Kite. The most serious hero they had in their organization.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’re getting sick? Got shot? You’re not focused at all Mystery.” “Stop with that nickname or I’m gotta start calling you Human.”

“Fine…Fine.” The Human Kite said and sat on Mysterions desk. “I’m fine though, thanks for asking. I just had had an interesting encounter.” The redhaired hero raised an eyebrow.

“The high and mighty, super serious Mysterion is actually smiling and lost in thought? Must have been someone special…”

“I think…” Mysterion started and looked around, biting his lip. “I think I met my Mary-Jane or Lois Lane.” With a smug expression Mysterion looked up to the redhead.

“Damn, really? Must have been a real beauty, because I only know you as this super serious dude who everyone fears when they first see you.”

Mysterion leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Trust me, they are. Pretty h/c-colored hair, stunning e/c eyes and a body to die for.” Human Kite almost fell of the desk laughing.

“They really got ya. Better hope they like you too and are willing to be your Mary-Jane.” Kite chuckled, got up and walked away.

“Ah, come on, instead of being jealous I found someone pretty, go suck Toolshed’s dick. We all know you want it!”

Kite gave him the middle finger before leaving the facility. “You know it’s the truth.”

Mysterion shrugged, a big smile plastered across his face. Mosquito, who overheard the conversation over from his desk eyed Mysterion as he out his feet up.

“So, any plan in mind now, bsss?” He asked and looked over.

“I actually do, my Mosquito friend.”

Y/N was on their way home. It has been an exhausting day. Right now, they just wanted to get home, lay on the couch and sleep. While searching for their keys, they felt like they were being watched.

“Come on, not today…” They mumbled, sincerely hoping their ex would not bother them today. Y/N quickly opened their mailbox, snatched the letters, and went inside, feeling relieved as soon as they got to sit on the couch.

After a few minutes, which they used to decompress, they looked through the mail.

“Bill, advertisement, trash, bill…Huh?” A blank envelope was left and curiously, Y/N opened it.

Their e/c eyes scanned over the neatly written words and immediately their inside felt all fuzzy and warm.

“Dear Y/N,

I am not a man of many words nor can I write good letters.

But I have to say, I can’t get you out of my mind. My colleagues are already bullying me for it, saying you’re my Lois Lane or Mary-Jane.

If you would like to see me again, come to the old building next to the Raisins tomorrow night. I’ll be there at midnight, waiting for you.

M?”

#Mysterion x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x reader

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