not down with Chris Pratt’s nonsense

V excited lesgo!!!

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Hi! This prompt literally just came to me and I thought it was cute. Could you please please write this Owen x reader where (Y/N) works for the park as member of the containment unit. Her team is sent out after the Indom and when Owen finds out, he’s horrified. The plan turns into a disaster and the only thing giving Owen the smallest bit of comfort is the fact that (Y/N)s heart monitor is still picking her up.

A/N: Sorry, not as fluffy as I would have hoped, but I got so wrapped up in making sure all the ACU details were right.

-

Code 19.

Asset out of containment.

Report to briefing room.  Move out in 15.

You almost spit out the first sip of your margarita as you read the message on your cell phone.  You look around at the tourists milling about on Main Street, unaware of the situation you’re about to go handle.

You envy them.

Normally, the briefings are full of jokes and laughter.  Asset Containment usually deals with a baby triceratops who wandered out of the petting zoo or a gallimimus that’s gotten too close to the Gyrosphere loading dock.

Today, the room’s silent, as everyone stares up at the specs on the Indominus.  No one’s laughing.

As you grab a taser rifle, you fight the urge to call Owen.  You know your boyfriend would want to know where you’re headed, but you decide against it.

You don’t want to worry him.  But as you stare at the ashen faces of your fellow ACU troopers, you can’t help but wonder what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

-

“I need to see a badge. Sir, I need to see a badge.”

Owen ignores the security guard, pushing past and heading straight for Claire.

“What the hell happened out there?” he asks accusatorially, eyes trained on the redhead.  “There are thermal cameras all over that paddock. She did not just disappear!”

The security guard moves to block Owen, but it’s then that he catches sight of the screen, the ACU insignia.  His eyes scan the faces of the ACU troopers who are out on the mission and his heart drops into his stomach.

“Not (Y/N),” he says, and he brushes the security guard off with a little more force than necessary.  His eyes scan the rest of the screen and widen in horror.

“You're going after her with non-lethals?” he asks, trying to contain the simultaneous fear and rage that are spreading through his body.

“We have $26 million invested in that asset,” Masrani replies matter-of-factly.  “We can't just kill it.”

“She’s–” Owen stops himself.  “They’re going to die.  You need to call this mission off right now.”

-

As you creep forward through the underbrush, you can tell something’s wrong.  The forest is silent – no birdsong, no chirping insects.  Quiet.  As if the forest and everything living in it knows that there’s something that does not belong.

You check your smartwatch, which tells you that the tracking device is a mere 300 feet away.  You shake your head.  300 feet is too close.  At 300 feet, you should be able to see something as big and obvious as a white dinosaur.  

You hear the splash of a stream a short way ahead, and you suddenly see your commander, Hamada, put his hand up in a fist.  You and the rest of the team stop, waiting.  

Hamada crouches down and picks something up, though you can’t see what.  You strain your ears, desperate to catch anything, a crack, a screech, a breath.  Anything that’ll give you an edge.

Slowly, Hamada stands up, his eyes tracking something you can’t quite see.

A branch cracks.  A bird screeches.  And then the brush starts to move.

The Indominus Rex steps out into the clearing, its skin shifting from green back to its normal white color.

“It can camouflage!” Hamada shouts and dashes to get away, but it’s too late.  The Indominus lumbers forward, snatching Hamada as if he were a doll.  You watch in horror as he’s tossed through the air, only to be stepped on by the Indominus.

Your watch vibrates briefly, something that it had never done before.  When they’d told you that there’d be a function to tell you a teammate had died, you never thought it’d go off.

The clearing erupts into chaos.  Cattle prods and taser guns crackle to life.  You see some of your teammates fleeing, and you don’t blame them.  Every nerve in your body is telling you to run.

But you know that you’re the last line of defense between the Indominus and the unsuspecting tourists you’d seen earlier.  You had to try.

You brace yourself against a nearby tree, setting the Indominus in your sights.  As your teammates rush the indominus with cattle prods, you struggle to get a clear shot, ignoring the vibration that emanates from your watch every so often as your team is picked off, one by one.

You take the shot, but the charge barely phases the giant, as it snatches up another ACU trooper in its claws.  It’s become clear that none of the nonlethal weapons are working and the steady vibrations from your watch keep reminding you of the ever-growing body count.

“Fall back!”  You turn to see Austin, the next in the chain-of-command, calling out the order.  You spot a few of your teammates dragging Barclay, who's severely injured.  You start over to help, but spot Miller staring down the Indominus alone, trying to buy them some time with a shotgun.  

You whip your taser gun onto your shoulder and take aim, firing blast after blast without seeming to slow down the Indominus.  You’re so focused on hitting your target that you don’t see the Indominus’s tail swinging towards you until it’s too late.

As you fly through the air, you see the Indominus open its jaws and crush Miller.  You hit the ground with a splash in the stream, the wind knocked out of you.  

You’re face-down, unable to see anything but the rocks of the stream bed.  Your body goes rigid and you do your best to slow your breathing, trying your best to look dead.  

You hear the thud as Miller’s body drops to the ground and you hear the dull thuds of the Indominus’s footsteps, approaching you.  You squeeze your eyes tight and console yourself with the fact that if you’re about to die, at least you won’t see it coming.  And it should be pretty fast.

-

The voices around Owen are debating the pros and cons of evacuating the island, but the only sound he can hear is the steady beat of your heart.

Your body camera is dark, but Owen chalks it up to a technical malfunction, his eyes fixed on the increasing spikes in your heart rate that are still showing on the monitor.  

She’s alive.  She’s alive.  She’s alive.  

He repeats it like a mantra in his head.  You’re alive, and everything will be okay.

-

After what seems like hours, you hear the footsteps recede.  You wait for five, ten minutes before you slowly push yourself up, only to be met with a sharp, stabbing pain in your abdomen.  

The pain gets worse and the edges of your vision start to go dark.  You shift yourself out of the stream, laying down on your back as you lose consciousness.  As you drift off, your last thought is of Owen.  Once he knows what’s happened, he’ll come for you.

It’s a comforting thought, and you can only hope that you’re right.

-

Owen fears the unshed tears in his eyes prick as your camera moves, light flooding the lens.  The view shifts rapidly until the camera is pointed up at the treetops.  

But then you stop moving, and the view stays fixed.  

And that’s enough for Owen.

“Evacuate the island,” he growls, already turning around to walk out the door.

“We’d never reopen,” Claire protests.  

“Tell whatever’s left of Asset Containment to use live ammunition,” Owen says, pressing the elevator button.  “You have an M134 in your amor.  Put it on a chopper and smoke that thing!”

“Mr. Grady, if you're not gonna help, there's no reason for you to be in here,” Masrani says and Owen shakes his head, frantically jiggling the elevator button.

“I’m on my way out anyways,” he says.  “But I’d have a word with the people in your lab.  That thing out there, that's no dinosaur.”

The elevator doors slide open and Owen rushes inside, slamming his hand down on the button.  He punches the coordinates of the attack into his phone drumming his fingers nervously on the elevator wall.

He can’t get to you fast enough.

-

You fade in and out of consciousness, only able to hold onto the small things.  

The feel of the damp pebbles under your hand.  The taste of blood in your mouth.  The sound of footsteps approaching.

You grit your teeth and pull yourself up to a sitting position.  The pain nearly knocks you out, but you steel yourself and pick up your gun.

“Hey, hey!” a voice says, and you let yourself drop the gun and sink back to the ground.  Dinosaurs can’t talk and if they can, then you’re already dead and you’ve arrived in some weird afterlife.  “(Y/N).”

“Here,” you breathe out, barely able to muster more than a whisper.

“I see you.”  Suddenly, Owen’s face floods your vision and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Owen,” you whisper softly and suddenly you feel weightless.  He’s carrying you, his strong arms supporting your body.

“I’ve got you, (Y/N),” he says, pressing a feather-light kiss on your forehead.  “I’ve got you.”

A/N: Agh sorry for my constant lack of posting, but here’s something to get in the spirit of the holidays.  Will write more if I have time!

-

“Owen, I hate you so much.”

“I’m sorry, Jingle the elf, but that’s not really in the Christmas spirit, is it?”

“I’ll knock the Christmas spirit right out of you if you don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m quaking in my boots.”

“Excuse me?” a middle-aged man calls out.  "Could you help my son get on that baby triceratops over there?”

“Of course!” you chip and head over.

You’re a trainer at the Gentle Giants Petting Zoo, arguably your favorite part of the park.  You enjoy working with the baby dinosaurs, but you especially love the wonder and excitement of all the kids who come to interact with the little critters.  

Except right now.

Because someone in management decided that all trainers needed to dress up as elves.  And a petting zoo of baby dinosaurs wasn’t cool enough – it needed to be a winter wonderland, complete with fake snow and elves.

Or rather, trainers dressed as elves.

You sigh and fight the urge to tear down every Christmas decoration around you as you help the child onto the docile triceratops and offer to take a picture for the family.

As you wish them a happy holidays, you turn back to spot Owen, who’s grinning at you with a dumb expression on his face and taking as many pictures as he can.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you say in the most annoyed voice you can muster.

“Why?” Owen challenges, still grinning like an idiot.

“I would like you to be somewhere else,” you say.  “Somewhere that is not here.”

“That’s not a real reason,” Owen says, climbing over the gate.  “I’ll leave, I just have to get something done first.  CHARLES!”

One of the professional photographers looks up and comes running your way.  Your eyes widen and you turn to Owen.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Owen.”

“(Y/N).”

“I’ll feed you to Blue.”

“We don’t have a picture to send out with our Christmas cards.”

“You’ve never sent out Christmas cards.”

“Well, I’m a married man now, it’s time I started.”

“Hey Owen!” Charles says.  “Ready?”

“Yep?” Owen says, throwing an arm around your waist.  “Ready, (Y/N)?”

“I refuse to smile,” you reply.

“Aw, come on, babe,” he pleads and you shake your head.  “Fine, suit yourself.”

The two of you turn to face the camera and you relent, flashing a genuine smile as Charles snaps a dozen pictures in a row.

Owen turns to you and leans in, planting a kiss on your lips before turning back to Charles and motioning for him to stop.

“Do you want to see them?” Charles asks and Owen almost pulls your arm off as he drags you over, full of excitement.

“These are amazing,” Owen grins as Charles scrolls through some of the options.  “We look adorable.”

You want to hate the photos, but you can’t help but smile.  The two of you do look adorable.  And festive.

“I’m getting you back for this someday,” you say.  “Next year, you have to dress up as Santa.”

Charles keeps scrolling through the photos until he gets to the end, with the photos featuring your kiss.

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Can you do one where its been gloomy all day, Owen and the reader get into a fight for some reason and they go to bed angry with eachother. It starts to storm really bad and reader is afraid so Owen comforts her (fluff ensues)

A/N: Agh it’s been a while, but I’m sick rn, which is the perfect time for writing!  I know some of these prompts have been sitting in my box for a while now, but I’m working through them, slowly but surely.  Hope y’all like this one!

-

Owen’s jolted awake by the clap of thunder.

His first thought is you.

Your one weakness is stormy weather – it sends you scurrying under mountains of blankets and pillows in an effort to burrow away from the loud rumbling.  If it were any other night, he’d head to your room immediately, but tonight’s different.

Tonight, he can’t help but remember all the angry words, the barbed comments, the fiery glares tossed back and forth before you retreated to your room, slamming the door behind you.

But the next peal of thunder drives the argument from his mind.  Truthfully, he can’t quite remember what you were fighting about – the only thing in his mind is finding you.  

He throws a shirt on and opens his door, nearly tripping over you.  You’re huddled under three blankets, leaning against the door frame, watching a show on your phone with earphones in.

“(Y/N)?” Owen asks.  As you look up at meet his eyes, his heart drops.  He can see the panic in your eyes, the one that undercuts the stoic expression on your face and he slides to the ground next to you.

“I wasn’t sure…” you start.  “I didn’t know if you would want to talk to me after our…thing.  But I couldn’t stay in my room by myself.”

“I was just coming to get you,” Owen says softly, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and it comes out like a whisper.  Owen reaches for you and pulls you to him, your head resting against his chest so that the steady beat of his heart almost drowns out the thunder.  You match your breathing with his, and slowly, you can feel yourself begin to calm down.  

“What were we even fighting about?” Owen asks and you shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you lie.  You know exactly what the fight was about, but you don’t want to ruin the moment.  You were annoyed with how much time he had been spending with Claire, even if you had no formal right to be mad.  So you had made some jabs about other things, and before you knew it, it had grown into a full-blown fight.  “Dumb, pointless stuff.  As we do.”

The two of you are silent for a few minutes as the lightning and thunder begin to retreat, leaving just the quiet patter of rain on the bungalow roof.

“You know,” Owen says finally.  “I know it may not seem like it…but you’re it for me, you know?  Like, I may spend time with Claire and joke around, but you’re the person I come home to every night, the only person I want to see.  I know we’re just roommates, but it doesn’t feel like that.  It feels more like…”

He looks down and chuckles.  Your eyes are closed, hand resting on his chest.

“Feels more like love,” he finishes softly to himself before scooping you up and carrying you the few short steps to his bed.  He gently pulls the blankets off of you and lays them on the ground, knowing you’ll wake up warm and cranky if he leaves them on.  

He walks around to the other side of the bed, gingerly laying down next to you before dozing off.  

He may want to be more than just roommates but until that day comes, this is  enough.

-

The next morning, Owen wakes up and immediately turns to see your empty half of the bed.  A small part of him sighs and he forces himself up and out of bed, stumbling out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grin, standing at the counter, cracking an egg into the pan.

“It is now that I’ve seen you,” Owen smiles, coming over to kiss you on the forehead.  “How’d you sleep?” 

“Like a baby,” you say.  “You’re the best, you know that right?”

“I do, but I don’t get tired of hearing it,” Owen says, walking over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice.  You bite your lip, weighing your options before opening your mouth.

“Speaking of hearing things,” you say tentatively.  Owen turns to face you, and you catch a flash of panic in his eyes before he masks it with a casual smile.  “I wasn’t…totally asleep last night.”

“Oh,” Owen says.

“Yeah,” you reply.  “Um…but you’re right.”

“What?” Owen says, taking a step closer to you.  He can feel his heart beating faster, but he doesn’t dare to try and second guess your words.

“You’re it,” you say simply and the look on Owen’s face makes you feel like your chest is about to explode.  The smile on his face spreads so quickly and erases every wrinkle, every crease, every shadow.  

“Yeah?” he asks and you nod in response.  He’s just a few inches away now, close enough to touch and you do, threading your fingers through his.  His eyes dart down to your lips, then back up to your eyes and you nod.

The kiss is perfect, the taste of orange juice and coffee on your lips.  After a few seconds, you pull back.

“I’m going to burn the bacon, Owen,” you murmur and he chuckles.