#id block them but they follow too fast to bother

[heynhay]

wow thanks so much for *checks notes*

200 human followers!

#an estimate. #but a good one #i wish you guys could just scroll through my followers page its legitimate 70-80% bots and i am actually not exaggerating #id block them but they follow too fast to bother #id be here all night

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now. 

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face. 

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions. 

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #reader insert

[the-iceni-bitch]

PLEASEEE write more for august walker! i'm in love with the banter in "welcome home, walker" and how he's grumpy but has a soft spot for the reader. LOVE UR OTHER WORKS TOO <33

Aww, I love Auggie! And it has been a bit since I wrote for him. Soooooo...

PDA

Pairing: August Walker x fem!Reader

Words: 2145

Summary: You and Auggie go out with the graduating cadets to celebrate your new assignment.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (innuendo, teasing, sex in a public place, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex), violence (fistfight, implication of gore and death), betrayal, protective!Auggie, TW- implication of impending date rape/mentions of drugs, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: This got away from me a bit if I’m being honest. I was just gonna do the teasing in the gym but I couldn’t stop myself, so please enjoy this little impromptu fic! And please feel free to send me an ask if there’s a character or kink or anything you’d like to see more of! 

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist here if you want!

You didn’t know how he got you in this position. You could practically feel him beaming over you as you struggled to get out of the hold he had you in. 

“You keep moving like that, you’re gonna make me hard, sweetheart. You want me to fuck you right here on the mat?”

August ground his crotch against your ass to illustrate his point and you let out a moan. Your arms were bent back at your shoulders unnaturally as you scrabbled for some purchase to get out of his grip.

“Fuck off, Auggie. You know the only reason you’re on top right now is because I didn’t get any sleep.” Maybe if you arched your back a little...

August groaned in your ear as your ass rubbed against his growing erection. 

“Shit, Y/N. The director is right there.”

You turned your head as much as you could to see Sloane standing at the gym entrance, surveying the cadets as they practiced their sparring. You wiggled your ass again, making Auggie growl at you.

“You’re not giving me a lot of options, baby. You know my brain doesn’t work when I’m sleep deprived.”

He grumbled and you felt him start to loosen the hold he had on your arms. You grinned to yourself as you wrapped one arm behind his neck, gripping the hair at the base of his scalp and rolling forward. You heard him give a small sound of surprise as you flipped him over, knocking all the air out of his lungs when you slammed him into the mat and wrapping your body around his shoulders, stretching him to the point of pain. 

“Damn it, I thought we were done.”

“I don’t remember tapping out, sweetie.” You gripped his wrist and stretched his arm even further as you squeezed your thighs around his neck. 

He wheezed for a second before a wicked grin spread over his face. “Y’know, when you get me in these holds, I can smell you, and it drives me fucking crazy.”

You almost loosened your hold at his admission but caught yourself at the last second. “August...” you growled in warning.

“I know you’re soaked under these sweats, sweetheart.” He turned his head as much as your hold would allow, running his nose along the inseam of your sweats until you released him with a hiss.

“Fine, it’s a draw.” You mumbled, drawing yourself to your feet as he chuckled darkly. “Equipment room in 5?”

“Walker, Y/L/N, with me.” Sloane gave a beckoning motion and the two of you moved to follow, sighing with frustration. 

You moved with the director as she marched back towards her office, shooting each other apprehensive looks as you considered what she may want to talk to you about.

“Good news you two.” Sloane announced as she closed the door to her office behind you. “We finally managed to get the heat off you from Interpol, and you’re set for a new assignment in Brazil.” She handed you your files detailing the op. “Looks like there’s a Syndicate group operating there, moving weapons through the black market there. You ship out in two days. Please do your best to remember, Syndicate members are assets, not targets.”

“Right, boss.” You murmured, flipping through your ID docs. August just grunted beside you.

“Alright, I heard the two of you are going out with the graduating cadets and trainers tonight to celebrate the end of the course. Don’t overdo it.” She gave you a knowing wink before you turned to leave the office.

“I think she knows about us.” August whispered as the two of you headed to your lockers.

You just laughed at him. “Auggie, honey, we’re the worst kept secret at Langley.” 

“Y/N, Walker, I hear congrats are in order! We’re gonna miss the two of you in training!” Melissa managed to find out everything as soon as it happened, you didn’t know how she got stuck in training instead of the field. “I’ll make sure everyone buys you a round at the club tonight.”

You groaned at that, those goddamn trainers would have you passed out if they got their way. You slammed your locker closed and turned back to August. 

“Meet you at the club, baby. Make sure to do your reading first!” You called over your shoulder as you headed out.

You arrived at the club 4 hours later to see August looking incredibly uncomfortable in the middle of a group of rowdy cadets. You tutted to yourself as you approached him, he always had a stick up his ass.

He saw you then, and his face relaxed as he walked to meet you.

“You’re late.” He grumbled as the two of you headed to the bar. “You know how much I hate talking to these kids.”

“Relax, grandpa.” You smiled before turning to order yourself a gin and tonic. “You gonna dance at all tonight, or just stand there glowering?”

He scoffed into his scotch as you grinned at him, moving closer and rubbing your foot over his calf suggestively. 

“Don’t you start something you’re not prepared to finish, beautiful.”

Just then, Melissa arrived with a tray full of tequila shots, and you let out a groan. This was the second time you got cock blocked today, and you were starting to get frustrated. 

“Look what I’ve got for you!” she said gleefully as the two of you winced at her.

“Melissa, I’ve told you a million times, I don’t do tequila.”

“C’mon, it’s your last night with us, just a couple.”

You took a deep breath and grabbed a shot for yourself, giving August a shrug before tossing it back. He hissed between his teeth as he downed his own.

“Fuck me, you sure this isn’t rubbing alcohol? Jesus, Melissa!”

She just handed the two of you two more with a giggle, and clapped her hands when you swallowed them. Before you knew it she was dragging you towards the dance floor, your head fuzzy from the tequila as you instructed August to watch your cocktail. He gave you a grin before turning back to the bar, but that quickly changed once he noticed movement in your glass.

August clenched his jaw as his arm shot out to grab the cadet that was wandering away from the bar, wrapping his fist around his upper arm with a vise-like grip.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He growled, a menacing glare taking over his face.

“Get your hand off me, man.” The frat boy idiot actually looked offended as he glanced down at August’s hand.

Walker just tightened his grip as he patted the asshole down, cocking an eyebrow as he pulled a tiny baggie of tablets out of his breast pocket.

“Graham, right? What’s a senator’s nephew doing with… what is this? GHB? Molly?”

“Look, buddy.” The moron gave him a grin like he was his friend as August stared him down. “That piece of ass needs some loosening up. I bet she’s a tiger in the sack.”

August threw your drink in his face before hauling him outside. He considered letting you handle it yourself, but he wanted to let off some steam.

He didn’t say anything, just punched the smarmy bastard in the face. The idiot didn’t even try to defend himself, pathetic.

“What the fuck?! You broke my nose!” Graham held a hand to his face as he stared at Walker in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s not all I’m gonna do to you.” He growled as he set to work.

Five minutes later he stood over his handiwork, wiping the blood off his knuckles as he let out a sigh. That had gotten a little out of hand.

“Fuck.” He muttered, pulling his burner out of his suit pocket and dialing. “Yeah, this is Lark. Send a cleanup crew to the alley outside Sketch. Yeah, some senator’s nephew.” He frowned over the phone. “Because it’s a fucking order.” He hung up, not bothering to wait for the Syndicate’s sanitation team before heading back into the club to find you.

He found you on the dance floor and a hungry sneer came over his face. He strode toward you and wrapped a possessive hand around your throat from behind, drawing you fast against his chest and growling into your ear. You whined as he pulled you away from the group, Melissa beaming at the two of you like an idiot.

“Have fun you two!” She called as August steered you around a corner.

He pressed you into the wall behind a column, his mouth devouring yours as he slotted his knee between your legs. You whimpered as he shoved a hand in the front of your blouse, squeezing your breast viciously before tweaking your nipple to the point of your pain as you arched into his hand.

“Fuck, Auggie. What happened?” You were panting with need as he moved his face down to bury in your neck, his teeth scraping over your throat.

“I’ll tell you later. Are you still drunk?” He moved his other hand to the apex of your thighs and groaned against your chest when he felt your slick coated folds. You weren’t wearing any panties.

“No, the dancing burned most of it off. Shit.” You hissed as he inserted two fingers inside you, stretching you open as he fumbled with his zipper. “Can’t even make it to the bathroom, huh?”

“Sorry sweetheart.” He mumbled as he freed his dick from his slacks. “Sure seems like you were expecting this, though.”

He moved his lips to yours and swallowed your cry as he dipped his hips and plunged into you. His hands wrapped around your thighs and lifted them to wrap around him as he started to move his hips. He tried to move slow so it wasn’t obvious what the two of you were doing, but those goddamn tiny whimpers you were making into his mouth were making it hard for him to control himself.

“God, this cunt feels better every time I’m in it. Fuck.” You were clenching around him with each thrust and your breath was coming in ragged gasps, letting him know you were close. “Jesus Christ, it’s barely been a minute. You’re so fucking sensitive.” He nipped at your bottom lip and stilled his hips for a beat as he teased you.

You slapped his bicep playfully and whined. “Shut the fuck up and move, asshole.”

He braced one hand on the wall and drew his hips back slowly before slamming into you. You buried your face in his neck to muffle your scream as you came apart. Your pussy fluttered around him as every muscle went rigid. He felt you sobbing against him as your muscles quivered in your release, his hips still setting a punishing pace as he fucked you through it.

“Shit, honey.” He murmured against your cheek as you came down. “You make it so easy.”

Your snort turned into a whimper as a particularly deep thrust had him kissing your cervix. “Fuck, Auggie.”

“Yeah, right there?”

You nodded vigorously as your face screwed up in bliss, leaning it back against the wall as he picked up the pace.

His cock was dragging against that sweet spot inside you with each thrust and it was all you could focus on. Your thighs squeezed around him as he brought you closer and closer to another orgasm. He loved watching you take it, getting completely lost in your pleasure. And knowing he was the one doing this to you was just icing on the cake.

“You close, gorgeous?” He asked, feeling his own imminent release looming.

“Shit, shit!”

He was extremely grateful for the loud music as you screamed in your release. He swallowed a shout of his own as his cock twitched and his cum spurted into you, painting your insides as his hips faltered and he collapsed against you.

“Jesus.” You whispered as you set your feet on the floor, August still sheathed in you as he softened. “Public sex, who knew?”

You felt his chest rumble against you as he gave a low chuckle, sliding out of you gently before he tucked himself back into his slacks. He ducked his head to give you a tender kiss as he drew down the hem of your skirt over your thighs.

“We should go back to your place.” He whispered after he released you, leaving you breathless.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but I’m totally fine with it. Lemme just say goodbye to Melissa.”

He grinned as he watched you saunter away, your gait a little wobbly as you tried to keep his cum from leaking out of you. He was really looking forward to your new assignment. The thought of being cooped up with you for several months was making him hard already.

Tags:

@slothspaghettiwrites @stargazingfangirl18 @starlightcrystalline @jack-skellingtons-stuff @drabblewithfrannybarnes @captain-asguard @harrysthiccthighss @bonkywobble @dslap65 @stanallstarks @macgruberrr @blackestpinkworld @wanderinglunarnights @sebslut @allinhishands

#natalie answers #natalie writes #request granted #request #send me asks #august walker #august walker fandom #august walker x reader #august walker x you #august walker x y/n #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill smut #smut #eighteen plus #mission impossible fallout

[halfmoon-writes]

『"𝕙𝕪𝕡𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕚𝕗 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒 𝕜𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝟛 𝕒𝕞, 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠?"』

✉ 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚝 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ✉ 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗!𝚊𝚞, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚛𝚢, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚙𝚞𝚝) 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜(𝚜): 𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚌, 𝚔𝚊𝚎𝚢𝚊, 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒, 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚘

☾ diluc

➥ he's probably still in his office at the time, sipping his nth coffee for the night as he glances the paperwork in his desk. mans a busy businessman.

➥ then, his phone rings. he would scowl at the sound then look at the clock. it was 3 am, who would call him at this time?

➥ when he saw your name on the caller, he'd sigh. 'what are they up to this time?' he thought, then pressing the green button.

➥ strong winds and rapid footsteps could be heard from his phone and he grew worried. he let out a small "hello?"

➥ "diluc! baby! love of my life, hi!" you answered, your voice was breathy, as if you've been running for a long time. "what are you doing at this hour, and why is it so loud?" he asked.

➥ he could hear you let out a laugh. your pace didn't falter at all as you let out a small squeak. "hypothetically speaking, if someone were to chase you with a knife at 3 am, what would you do?" you questioned.

➥ his slouched state became tense as he stood upright, phone pressing between his cheeks and shoulder as he hurriedly wear his coat. "run away. where are you right now?" he asked, grabbing his car keys and immediately exiting his workplace.

➥ "my brain is panicking right now I have no idea where I am." you informed, then laughed. he doesn't know why you could laugh at a situation like this, but it felt reassuring to know you're not overly panicking to the point where you couldn't even get help.

➥ "elzier, tend to my workplace while I'm gone. I won't be long." he said as he ran towards the garage. "could you stay on the line with me?" he asked.

➥ "yeah, yeah definitely," you said, taking a deep breath. "my breathing might sound unsightly though, hope you don't mind. I've been running for a while." you took another breath again.

➥ "that's fine. all that matters is that you're safe." he said. by the sound of the slight shuffle in your line (minus the breathing), it seemed like you are currently hiding, or relaxing.

➥ "did you lose them?" he asked. "uhh I think ye—" all of the sudden, you went silent. he wanted to ask if you're okay, but he was scared that he would've alerted the person in finding you.

➥ so, he waited. he was currently on his way to the supermarket you normally visit at an ungodly hour, in hopes that you would be somewhere near there. not too long after, he heard the sound of something hitting the concrete. hard.

➥ "(y/n)! are you okay?!" he yelled out. there wasn't any answer given other than the sound of ruffling and he was anxious to wait for your reply.

➥ "hi! I managed to escape death's grip and kick him in the fucking balls!" you shouted, your breathing still erratic. he let out a sigh of relief.

➥ "that's great. do you know where you're located now?" he asked. "uhh... oh, look! it's the gas station near the statue of barbatos!" you said. "good job. now, stay there. I'll go get you."

➥ "yes, please." once he arrived, he noticed you waving at him with a smile, as if you weren't in a near-death situation. he wondered what he's gonna do with you.

➥ as soon as he arrived, he immediately engulf you in his arms. "I was really worried." he said. you let out a laugh, hugging him back. "yeah, I was too. worried for that guy because he definitely won't be having kids." he sighed at your response, but laugh nonetheless, placing a kiss at your forehead.

➥ "let's go home. and you're not going to the supermarket at these hours anymore."

☾ kaeya

➥ let's face it. this man would be sleeping at this hour. but he's a light sleeper, so he would wake up the moment he heard his phone rings.

➥ he groans at the noise, rubbing his eyes and check the caller id, then back to the clock.

➥ what in the actual ever loving- it was 3 am, why are you calling him at this hour?

➥ he picked up your call and was about to make a sly remark about how you must've missed him, but the words were stuck on his tongue when he heard the sound of your heavy breathing.

➥ "you good?" he asked.

➥ "hey, bubs. nope. not at all." you said. "hypothetically speaking, if someone were to chase you with a knife at 3 am, what would you do?"

➥ the way that this man stood straight up. his sleepiness dissipate immediately. "you're joking." he said, well, more like convinced himself. this was the only time that he was hoping you were pranking him.

➥ there was a long silence on the line, then the sound of your footsteps, from light tiptoes to full-on sprinting. he grew panicked. taking the nearest piece of clothing and pants with him.

➥ "stay on the line. I'm coming to get you." when he said, that he heard a laugh from you and he really thought that you were pranking him, but it wasn't. "I don't even know where I am, how on earth are you gonna find me?"

➥ he stopped doing whatever he was doing at the moment, before continuing and grabbing his keys and drove off with his motorcycle (use your helmets!), his phone snuffed inside his helmet. "you're probably not that far off. I'll try to find you. meanwhile, stay on the line." he demanded.

➥ "yes, captain." if it was any other situation, he would've laugh at the nickname, but he couldn't. god, he was so scared at what might happen to you if he wasn't fast enough.

➥ the constant sound of you taking a long breath before continuing to run makes him very anxious. all of the sudden, he heard you scream in pain.

➥ "(y/n)! hey, hey (y/n)! what happened?!" the grip on the handlebar tightened. there was nothing but the sound of something stumbling around, then the sound of a loud groaning could be heard.

➥ "(y/n)...?" he called out one more time. "yes, yes I'm here." you let out another laugh. "well, now I know where I am now. it's a few blocks across diluc's bar." you said.

➥ you're breathing pretty heavily and he was really concerned about that, increasing up the speed to get to you. he spotted you sitting down near a pole and you waved at him.

➥ his eyes widened at your red hand, clutching the side of your shoulder. putting down his helmet, he rushed to your aid to examine the wound. "hey, you found me." you joked.

➥ he didn't answer, instead pressing the wound to stop the bleeding. "it's pretty deep." he answered. "just like you last night." you retort. he couldn't help but let out a laugh at your comment.

➥ "yeah? and I'll do it again."

☾ venti

➥ venti had a variety of activities he'd do at an ungodly hour. it could range from making new music or trying to summon a demon. either way, he'll probably still be awake doing random shit.

➥ the sound of lyre could be heard at his place, strumming softly with him humming along. it was peaceful, until it was broken by the sound of his phone ringing.

➥ he raised a brow at it, but picked it up without seeing the caller. "hello?" he greeted. his greeting was met by the sound of wind blowing harshly, as if someone was running.

➥ he released the phone and checked the caller. to his surprise, it was you. "(y/n)? wha-" "hey, venti!" your voice called out, mixed with pants and heavy breathing.

➥ "hypothetically speaking, if someone were to chase you with a knife at 3 am, what would you do?" at the question, he stopped moving.

➥ "...are you serious?" he asked. you laughed at his reaction. "'course not! I'm joking!" you said. "no, you're not." "no, I'm not. please help."

➥ I don't think venti's the type of person to have a car since his tiny legs too short to reach em so-- public bus it is.

➥ immediately, he rushed out of his home and ran towards the nearest bus. luckily for him, the bus was just on its way to leave. "where are you?" he asked.

➥ "uhh... hang on. I'm- AAH--" you shrieked. venti panicked at the sound of your scream. "(y/n)!" "HAH! I managed to outrun them. sucks for them for not being to able to have children now." you said with a laugh.

➥ venti's just relieved to hear you were still okay. "oh, how convenient! there's a bus stop ahead." you said. "that is convenient. stay there, I'll get you." he said.

➥ his eyes trailed at each stop the bus did and when he finally spotted your form, he asked the driver to stop then hopped down, immediately sprinting to you.

➥ "were you hurt?" he asked. "nah. damn, I know I've said that I wanna die a lot of times, but I wasn't ready yet." you said, catching your breath.

➥ venti laughed at your response then pulled you to a tight hug. "let's get you home, then."

☾ albedo

➥ he would probably either drawing, or doing some experiments, mostly the former.

➥ he'd have his phone playing one of those live jazz songs on youtube. he'd prefer to listen to live since it has no advertisement to bother his focus.

➥ while listening to the song and sketching your face by memory, the sound of his phone stopped, replaced by a ringing.

➥ he'd get a bit annoyed, but his previous emotion turned to worry when he saw the caller id. it was 3 in the morning, what on earth were you doing?

➥ "hello, (y/n), is everything alright?" he'd asked. he heard a loud crash from the other line, the sound of something falling at the ground, then followed by the sound of what seemed to be your phone slammed down.

➥ "(y/n)?" he'd ask one more time. in front of his bed was a coat neatly placed on the hanger and he was more than ready to just bolt towards your location.

➥ he'd heard grunts and shuffling for a few times, before he heard your voice. "hey, prince. sorry, was I bothering you?" mans was worried that he couldn't even bring himself to say yes.

➥ "forget about that. what were you doing?" he asked. he heard you let out a nervous laugh. "well, hypothetically speaking, if someone were to chase you with a knife at 3 am, what would you do?"

➥ albedo was someone aloof that doesn't really show emotions a lot, but the emotion of fear was evident on his face. "run and find a safe spot. I'll get to you. are you somewhere near the place where we would buy art supplies?" he asked, his voice calm and collected, a complete contrast to how he's feeling right now.

➥ "uhh... oh, yes! I can see the light from here." you answered. "good. go inside. the owner should recognise your face, go ask them for help." he suggested. he grabbed his coat and car keys and speed up towards said location.

➥ "alright, thank you." "don't hang up." he reminded. before he could hear your response, the sound of your scream could be heard. his car nearly crashed to a nearby tree at your voice, but he regained composure and continued to made his way to you.

➥ "(y/n)! talk to me! what happened?!" he asked frantically. there was a lot of stumbling sounds followed by your voice saying 'get off of me you fuck!' then a loud 'thud' was heard.

➥ "hey, hey I'm alright. still alive." you said. he took note that you sounded more breathy than before. "I'm inside. the person doesn't seemed to be following me though." you informed.

➥ "that's good. I'm only 2 minutes away. wait for me." he said. once he was there, he immediately went to you, eyes widened slightly at your bleeding form.

➥ that's why you screamed. he took off his coat and covered the bleeding area. the owner was nowhere to be seen, but he returned shortly, bringing a glass of water and a med kit, not surprised to see that albedo was there.

➥ albedo thanked the owner then tend to your wounds for a while. afterwards, he gave thanks to the owner again as he supported your wounded body on his.

➥ once the both of you reached his car, he placed his forehead against yours, one hand on your cheek, the other or your arm, supporting your form. "don't ever scare me like that again."

+

I honestly have no idea how to use Tumblr but it seemed fun.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #venti x reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact headcanons

[fific7]

Cold Day in Hell - Part 1

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in future chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

Logan Delos was bored. Mind-numbingly, screamingly, terminally bored. He was rapping out an irritated drum solo on the arm of his chair with his long fingers. He was shifting in his seat, constantly crossing and un-crossing his long legs. He was moving the papers on the conference table in front of him from side to side, then backwards and forwards.

The businessman who was talking through the main presentation had a voice that was flatter than roadkill and had only one tone... monotone.

Logan leant forward and propped his elbows on the conference table in front of him, using his fingers to physically hold open his eyelids as they kept closing of their own accord. He felt a yawn coming on and fought to stop his mouth opening to accommodate it... but failed.

He was aware of the door to the conference room opening behind him but didn’t even have the energy to turn and see who it was. This asshole is draining the fucking will to live out of me, he thought. He vaguely heard said asshole saying something about his colleague talking through the next section of the presentation.

Logan sat right up in his seat as he spotted a beautiful - no, stunning - woman making her way to the front of the room. She was dressed in ‘business smart’ but even those sensible items couldn’t hide her curves. Her hair was pinned up, and he had already started fantasising about loosening it and running his hands through it. He wished he’d paid attention when Asshole had said her name. Or had he said her name? Logan had no idea.

He heard her starting to speak, a melodic voice... he had to know her name! Logan tutted and picked up the meeting agenda, riffling back and forth through the pages to get to the correct one, but wasn’t even sure what page he should be on. Suddenly the folder tumbled from his hands and clattered onto the floor. The talking stopped and he became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including hers. In fact, she was kind of glaring at him.

He gave an apologetic wave to the room in general as he retrieved the folder from the floor. She began speaking again, and he resumed his page-riffling. Finally he found the current one, and there was her name in black and white. A melodic name to match her voice, he thought.

He started paying attention to what she was actually saying.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d just started your part of the presentation when some asshole dropped his agenda folder, the sharp noise bringing you to a screeching halt. When you saw a hand waving around in the air, your eye followed the arm down to its owner and noted that he was in fact a very good-looking asshole. But he was still an asshole.

You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts and then launched back into your presentation. The asshole was now staring at you relentlessly; every single time your eyes swept the room, his dark eyes were on you. Like... always on you. Not like the others, who were at least glancing down at the handouts occasionally.

The section you were presenting drew to a close, and you now took an empty seat at the table. It was diagonally opposite the handsome asshole. Who was still staring at you.

Now that you were much closer, you could see that his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, with a wicked gleam in them. They matched his shining dark hair, which was immaculately swept back from his forehead. You boldly met his stare for a while, before breaking eye contact to listen to your colleague Craig deliver the final part.

At the end of the presentation there were a few questions which were duly answered, and then everyone was gathering up their paperwork and milling around prior to leaving the conference room. As you tucked your folders away in your document bag, in your peripheral vision you became aware of a pair of long legs making their way to you. You knew who it was bound to be so you didn’t bother looking up. A throat cleared next to you but you continued packing away your items, and then you heard your first name being spoken in a low, husky voice. This time you did look up - it would be rude not to - and yup, it was Handsome Asshole. A hand was proffered to you and by reflex you took it, your hand being crushed in a strong grip. “Logan Delos,” said that suave voice, “...it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” you scoffed, “...how original!” while thinking, oh... so this is the infamous Logan Delos, whose name you’d heard all the time in connection with the projects but never actually met before. He had a reputation of being a bit of a diva. You heard him give a deep chuckle. “Yeah, that’s me - an original. Unique, in fact I’d say.” “Well, you’re super confident, that’s for sure!” You picked up your document bag and headed for the door, saying “Nice to meet you, Mr Delos,” as you started to leave. His tall frame scooted round in front of you before you could reach it, “Oh, not so fast.... I can’t let you leave before you agree to have dinner with me.” You tried to sidestep him but he blocked your way, and then a little ‘step to the right, step to the left’ dance ensued. Finally, exasperated, you stood still and put your hands on your hips. “Mister Delos! Will you please let me past!” He copied your stance, “Not until you say you’ll have dinner with me. Or lunch. Or.... breakfast, if you prefer?!” wiggling his eyebrows at you. You huffed, “I don’t date business partners!” He still stood in front of you, seemingly immovable, “We’re not business partners - technically speaking. Boring Asshole is my business partner, not you.” Your mouth dropped open but before you could stop it, laughter bubbled out.

You hastily silenced it, saying, “I admit, Craig may not be the most inspiring public speaker, but he really knows his stuff,” trying to cover your somewhat indiscreet reaction and save your colleague’s honour at the same time. “But that’s beside the point, Mr Delos, because we are business partners despite what you’re trying to say.” Logan had moved slightly aside while you were speaking and you took this opportunity to brush past him, calling out, “Goodbye, Mr Delos,” with the emphasis on the goodbye as you went.

If you’d bothered to look back, you would’ve seen Logan Delos watching you go, a very determined expression on his face.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Juliet looked up from her laptop as Logan breezed into her lounge, tossing his car keys onto the coffee table and throwing himself onto the sofa, long legs spreading out in front of him as he did so.

“Good meeting?” she asked, seeing that his head had gone back onto the cushions and he was staring up at the ceiling. He hummed, “Good and bad. The presentation was the single most boring thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but on the other hand one of their staffers.... wow! It was like an angel came down from heaven and found her way into that conference room.” She sighed, “Logan... by all that’s holy... do not try to screw one of our business partners for god’s sake! Dad will go ballistic if you mess up our working relationship with them.” Logan looked offended, “Who says I’d mess it up?” Jules gave a big sigh and shrugged, “Me, for one. Dear brother, I love you with all my heart but you’re fucking awful at relationships. You’d just fuck her and drop her like a hot potato. Who is it that caught your roving eye this time anyway?” Logan said her name in a dreamy tone and Jules rolled her eyes heavenwards, “Oh, no, no, no!... no way, Logan. I know her, she’s a lovely person and also does a fantastic job - she’s one of their top software engineers, specialising in middleware.”

Logan smirked, “She can engineer my middleware anytime she likes.” “Oh, shut up and get your mind out of your pants, Logan. Stay away, okay?!!” He huffed, “Hey! You can’t tell me who to pursue or otherwise, Jules!” “But that’s it, right there - you’ll chase her, catch her, bang her and drop her! I really like her as well as respecting her work, so you better just be damn careful!”

Logan sighed. He loved his sister but god, she was a king-size pain in the ass sometimes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A week or so later, and you’d almost forgotten about that handsome asshole at the presentation. You couldn’t deny that he’d popped in and out of your thoughts since, but you’d googled him the day after you’d met him and had also made some discreet enquiries amongst those colleagues who’d worked with him before on projects. What you’d discovered had not endeared him to you.

He was a world-class player, that was obvious - and not fussy about which gender he played around with either. Not that that put you off, it was just the sheer volume of men and women he was pictured out on the town with. And alcohol and substance abuse had been there in the mix too, with some stays in rehab mentioned although the last one had been over a year ago. So no... you’d decided you wouldn’t be entertaining any further thoughts of the undeniably attractive Mr Delos.

You turned your thoughts back to the current middleware solution you were constructing, in fact it was for Delos Corporation, involving various scenarios for their Westworld hosts. You were immersed in code and structure when your phone rang, and you saw your boss’s extension number on the caller ID. Hmmm... what could she want? She usually gave you free reign when you working on a project, catching up with you every couple of days at team meetings. Answering it, you heard her assertive voice asking you to pop along to her office and so you set off on the short walk there. You knocked on her door and heard her say ‘come in’, so in you sailed and then came to an abrupt halt. Logan Delos was sitting opposite your boss; he was half-turned towards you with a somewhat triumphant smirk on his face. Your boss indicated the chair next to Logan and you quickly sat down, wondering what this was about and why Logan looked so smug.

Your boss launched into a mini-summary of what you were currently working on, and all you could do was nod. Eventually she finished up with, “So all your current projects are for Delos.” It was a statement not a question, so you just nodded. “Mr Delos here...” she levelled a hand towards Logan, “....has come up with a suggestion, and I happen to think it’s a good one.” She smiled at Logan, before looking back at you and continuing, “He thought it would be beneficial to have the person working on most of his projects - that’s you, just to clarify - to be based at Delos Destinations for the next three months, to facilitate progress.” You knew you were looking completely dumbfounded as she hurried on, “Obviously I’d like your input on this, but I’m sure you can see that it’d be very helpful for you to be on-site with our partners while you’re working through the projects?” Meanwhile you were desperately trying to come up with reasons to remain in your own office, but truthfully you couldn’t. It would be helpful to have instant access to their engineers when you needed an answer on something, you couldn’t deny that. Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes...I can appreciate that. But couldn’t we just have me spend maybe one or two days a week over there rather than be actually based in their offices?”

Logan spoke for the first time, his expression business-like now, “That wouldn’t really fulfill the brief though, would it? Because we’d be back to having a slight delay in receiving and giving responses for the time you weren’t at our offices. And I’d ... we’d... make you very welcome. There’s an office waiting for you... right next to mine.” He couldn’t stop that smirk reappearing as he finished speaking. You forced a smile, “Well, I can’t really refuse an offer like that, can I Mr Delos?” You looked back to your boss, “I guess that’s agreed then. When does this take effect?” Your boss beamed at you, “Excellent! I don’t see any reason for it not to commence immediately, do you? How about as of tomorrow?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan walked onto his office the next morning, whistling a happy little tune. He’d had a small glass of wine the night before at Juliet’s place when he’d dropped in on his way home, knowing he had to break the news to her that evening about the cunning plan he’d come up with. He was happy for two reasons; firstly, visiting Jules and his niece Emily and not having to see William’s stupid damn face any longer would never get old, and secondly, his little scheme to get closer to that gorgeous woman was coming together. As Jules worked partly from home and partly at the office, he had to let her know that a new face would be around for at least the next three months. It would give him a much better chance to persuade her to go out with him - she wouldn’t really be able to escape him given that she’d be right next door to him every day. Predictably, Juliet had issued a stern warning about what would happen to certain parts of his anatomy should he overstep, but had reluctantly accepted that it was a fait accompli. (Privately, she was looking forward to working more closely with her and also warning her about the usual antics of her beloved brother, that’s if she wasn’t already well aware of them).

He’d been racking his brains for ideas on how best to pursue her ever since she’d turned him down flat at that conference. Logan wasn’t used to being turned down. He’d had a brainwave a couple of days later and had checked into who was handling the Delos projects at her company - after all, surely she wouldn’t be at the conference in the first place if she wasn’t involved somehow? He’d been overjoyed to find out that she was handling just about all of the current open projects (so why on earth had they allowed Boring Asshole to give the majority of the presentation?! he’d thought incredulously) and had then begun to put together a plan to somehow get her into his close orbit. He was really quite proud of what he’d come up with.

His secretary knocked on his doorframe and announced that his visitor had arrived. A big smile appeared on Logan’s face.

Here I go! he thought, the thrill of the chase coursing through his veins.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The secretary smiled at you over her shoulder as she leaned against Logan’s office doorframe, “Please, go right in,” before stepping aside so you could enter.

The man himself was lounging back in his fancy office chair, which to you looked more like the type of padded seat you’d get on a private jet, waving you into the office before getting up and striding over to you. He held out his hand which you took but instead of shaking it as you expected, he pulled you towards him and kissed your cheek very softly. A waft of delicious and no doubt expensive cologne reached your nostrils before he stepped back, “Welcome on board!” he said, “...I’m so glad you’re joining us here at Delos Destinations.” You smiled, “Thank you, Mr Delos.” “Logan!” he said immediately, waving his hand and saying your first name. “Logan,” you said dutifully, “yes, thank you for the welcome ....of course I do still work for my own company.” He smiled at you, still holding onto your hand and beginning to lead you to the door, “Well, for now you do. I’ve a mind to steal you away for myself, you know. Or, sorry... for Delos Destinations, I should of course say.”

OK... seems like he’s still interested, even if that wouldn’t last longer than a heartbeat once you’d gone out (and especially if you slept) with him. You knew this secondment was going to be trouble, you thought. Three whole months of trying to resist Mr Player of the Decade. But you were convinced that you could do it.

As he lead you from his office to what was going to be yours, you were suddenly very aware of his tall figure beside you, your hand in his (he still hadn’t let go of it) and a hint of that beautiful cologne of his again. He looked across at you, dark eyes gazing into yours and gave you a mischievous grin. Annoyingly, your stomach did a little flip.

Yeah, really convinced.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

#logan delos x reader #logan delos #ben barnes #westworld #logan delos fanfic #logan delos imagine #logan delos fan fiction

[mallowstep]

(caller id)

cw: referenced child abuse

One of Stonefur's coworkers texts a link to their group chat.

i've worked with this org b4. if they're looking for support they need it. anyone have a few bucks?

He clicks on the link.

* * *

"I'm sorry, we don't give information about our clients out."

Stonefur taps the desk. It's a good policy. He wouldn't want them to make it easy. But.

"I might -- look, I don't want you to give me any information. But...is there a way I could prove who I am, and you'd maybe pass that on, if I'm right about who this is?"

The phone worker sighs. "If I can clear it with my supervisor, and if you can prove who you are, and if we do have who you think we have, and if they were to agree to it, maybe."

For six years, Stonefur has been trying to find a way to get home. Greystripe visited, actually, but the school said Featherpaw was no longer enrolled, and he wasn't allowed to even knock on the door of Tigerstar's compound.

Every weekend, he pours over the news that comes out of his hometown, looking for some sign that things are different. That they have a chance.

For six years, Stonefur has failed. This is the closest he has been to any chance of finding Mistyfoot and Featherpaw since he first carried Stormpaw off the compound.

"I'm looking for Mistyfoot, daughter of Oakheart," he says. "I'm Stonefur, son of Oakheart. She might be with Featherpaw, I have her brother, Stormpaw."

"I'll speak with my supervisor," the worker says. "Can we call you back at this number?"

* * *

He still can't fly. His identity is somewhere between fake and real, but it won't hold up to airport security. He packs the car for a week, loads Stormpaw and Greystripe in, and takes to the road.

After spending months walking across the country, a few days is nothing.

* * *

"Okay, Stonefur, you're on speaker."

His heart is beating so loud, it must be audible over the phone. He's practised this, prepared what he'll say, but he never could have imagined how this moment would feel. He forgets everything he planned.

"Mistyfoot?"

There's a long pause.

"I'm here."

It's her voice. It's a little older, but it's her voice, the same voice he has grown up with. He's not sure how to describe the feeling, the way it snaps his rib cage in two, the way his head feels light, the way his shoulders release, a hundred pounds vanishing off of them.

Stonefur starts to cry.

* * *

Four months after Stonefur first called, and they finally arrange a meeting.

They're informed not to arrive early, and Stonefur drives around the block three times until they can park. A woman meets them at the front doors.

"I'm their caseworker," she says. "This is how this is going to work. Our security guard is going to pat you down, and then I'm going to check in with Mistyfoot and Featherpaw. If they've changed their minds, you're going to leave. If they haven't, you come in. If they ask you to leave at any point, you leave. Got it?"

Stonefur nods, and Stormpaw copies. The woman sighs, and he can't read the emotion behind it perfectly. It sits somewhere between relief and stress.

The security check is fast: Stonefur expected it, and had them dress in simple clothing without any bulky sections. Whatever building they're in is clearly rented. They wait outside a set of double doors, and the caseworker opens them, smiling.

"You're good."

Stonefur walks past her. Mistyfoot is standing, her hand laced with Featherpaw's, but it is her, really her. He feels tears at the corners of his eyes, and he doesn't bother to try to stop them. Mistyfoot's expression shifts, softening, and she lets go of Featherpaw's hand, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she says, and he hugs her back. He doesn't think this is real. He doesn't think, after all this time, he has found her again.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

She takes a shuddering breath, and he feels her tears against his neck, and she is real and alive and whole.

* * *

"She didn't want to talk to me," Stormpaw says, after.

Stonefur sighs. Reintroductions now made, he has Mistyfoot's number. She's sent him,

featherpaw's asleep

i'll call you tmrw

tell stormpaw i love him

and he's sent back,

Tell Featherpaw we love her. We're free all day, call me whenever.

"I don't get it."

Stonefur sighs, watching Stormpaw's frustrated pacing. "Mistyfoot said she's sleeping," he offers. "I think she was just tired."

Stormpaw huffs. "She left after..."

"If she didn't want to see you, she wouldn't have," Stonefur says. "But it's a lot to take, and...I think it's good that she left. She didn't ask us to leave. I'm guessing, but I think that means she wants to see you again."

* * *

"You can't hold them," Featherpaw says. "And you have to wash your hands."

She's holding two of the infants in her arms, swaddled and asleep. Mistyfoot holds the last one, who's awake, but not moving.

"We already washed them," Stonefur says.

Featherpaw stares pointedly at the sink.

After, he sits next to Mistyfoot.

"This one is Frogkit," she says. "Featherpaw has Hawkkit and Mothkit."

Featherpaw leans her head against Mistyfoot, smiling at Frogkit.

* * *

When they're three months old, Featherpaw's statement changes to, "You still have to support their heads. And wash your hands."

Stormpaw smiles at her, and she pulls Hawkkit a little closer to her.

"They're not going to take them," Mistyfoot says.

Featherpaw glances at Stormpaw. "Do you want to hold him?"

Mistyfoot rubs her shoulder, and turns to Stonefur. "Here," she says. "You remember how to hold babies, right?"

"I practised on a doll," he says. "Are you sure?"

Featherpaw hands Hawkkit to Stormpaw, correcting his hand placement. Mistyfoot nods. He takes Mothkit from her. She smiles at him.

* * *

After they've all moved in, to an apartment that's still too small but has just enough space, Stonefur watches Mistyfoot and Feathertail's routine sigh in relief. Stonefur helps Feathertail and Mistyfoot feed them, and Stormheart finds himself pacing with a crying Hawkkit.

"Give him here," Feathertail says, holding out her arms.

Hawkkit quiets instantly, and she rocks softly, holding him against her. She kisses the top of his head. "I'm still your favourite," she murmurs.

* * *

"I heard you were back in town," Shadepelt says. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too." Stonefur runs his hand through his hair. He hasn't seen Shadepelt since she was a kid, maybe ten or twelve. "I'm sorry it's-"

Shadepelt hugs him. "I'm not an idiot," she says. "I follow the news. I'm just happy you're safe."

* * *

Stonefur takes the kids for a walk with Feathertail. She pushes their stroller to the end of the block.

"I've got them," he says, and she releases the handles. "You okay?"

"I thought physical therapy was supposed to make me less tired," she says.

"Well, it takes time," Stonefur says.

* * *

Mistyfoot curls up on the couch. Stonefur puts his hand on her shoulder, and she flinches. Stonefur draws back, and she relaxes, but unnaturally, like someone has cut a puppet's strings.

Her hands were curled into balls, but they release, and he sees angry marks from where her nails dug into her hand. She rubs the heel of her hand against her forearm, and opens her eyes, glancing at him.

"I didn't..." Mistyfoot swallows, blinking rapidly. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was you."

* * *

Shadepelt arrives at six in the morning. She doesn't complain, even though they're only paying her ten dollars an hour.

He's glad he asked her to come early, because Feathertail walks her through the kids' schedule at least three times, and Shadepelt dutifully take notes, asking the occasional question. Stonefur has walked her through everything, but she won't be able to contact them once they're in the courtroom.

Stonefur drives them, and Stormheart sits in the passenger seat. He's missing school to be here, but he doesn't seem concerned. Feathertail sits in the middle seat, her head resting on Mistyfoot's shoulder.

The prosecutor told them to wear whatever was comfortable, as long as it was reasonably presentable, but Mistyfoot and Feathertail had gone shopping. Mistyfoot still seems uncomfortable, but that might be indicative of where he's driving.

Feathertail's phone chimes, and she doesn't wake.

When he pulls up to the courthouse, it's barely past 7:45, and there's already a scattered flock of reporters. Mistyfoot wakes Feathertail, and Stonefur sends Stormheart while he goes to park.

* * *

"Remember," the prosecutor says, "you're not on trial." She's not saying anything they haven't heard before, but it seems like a reassurance. "I won't lie to you. The cross-examination is going to be brutal. But you can always take a break."

She sighs. "We might not get to Feathertail today. But if we do, Mistyfoot, you can hold her hand, and that's it."

* * *

"All rise!"

Feathertail grips Mistyfoot's arm, bracing herself.

* * *

Stonefur and Stormheart sit on either side of Feathertail. She's not watching Mistyfoot, but she glances towards her occasionally.

Stonefur has come to most of the days of trial. In that sense, he's prepared for when they start. Stormheart isn't, and his anger shows in white knuckled rage. He glances at Feathertail occasionally.

"And why do you believe he said that?" the prosecutor asks.

Mistyfoot has kept her gaze trained to the side, avoiding Tigerstar. He's dressed well, and his lawyers take frenetic notes.

"Objection, speculation."

"Sustained."

Mistyfoot takes a sip of water.

The prosecutor pauses, and she retraces her steps. "Had you seen any examples of consequences for similar infractions?"

"After our brothers — after Stonefur and Stormheart had escaped, Tigerstar said Feathertail and I were corrupted. He used that as a rationale for punishment. I was the only person Feathertail has regular contact with."

"Were you led to believe your actions would have an affect on Feathertail?"

"I..." Mistyfoot blinks. Feathertail folds a piece of paper in half, and then in quarters. "He said she needed a good influence in her life. And that if I failed to provide one, he would make sure she was corrected."

"What kind of corrections did Tigerstar use?"

"Um. It depended. Denial of food. Manual labor. Usually it was more than one person could complete." She takes another sip of water.

"Can you give-"

"But the big one was...um. Corporal punishment. And it was always...he wanted you to feel small. He usually made things as embarrassing and public as he could think of."

"Can you give some examples?"

Mistyfoot glances towards Feathertail. She closes her eyes for a moment. Feathertail's hands are shaking uncontrollably. Stonefur places his hand out, where she can reach it. Feathertail takes it.

Stormheart glances at Feathertail again. She's gripping Stonefur's hand tight enough to hurt.

"Do you want to leave?" he whispers. Feathertail shakes her head.

* * *

(You're supposed to be watching the testifying witness. You know that.

But it's hard not to watch the others. Tigerstar is calm, like Mistyfoot is not describing a litany of public humiliations he had her suffer, his face neutral.

On the other side, Mistyfoot's family is fighting with the edge of permissible expression. The teenaged girl grips the man's hand, her head not lifting, and the teenaged boy beside her looks livid, glancing back at her often with a softened expression.

In a few days, the situation is rearranged. You've learned all their names, now, and it is Feathertail who takes the stand. She clutches Mistyfoot like a lifeline, and you see her look too far in one direction. As soon as she sees Tigerstar, she looks close to tears.

Her brother, Stormheart, is notably absent. You speculate he didn't think he could maintain composure through her testimony.

You can't blame him. She answers the prosecutor's questions with uncomfortable forthrightness. After adjusting to Mistyfoot's tendency to find a neat, formal way of saying matters, it is jarring to hear Feathertail respond to, "And how did he punish you for that?"

"He beat me until he broke skin."

You are just as grateful as Feathertail when her request to take a break is granted.)

* * *

When they get home, every night, Feathertail goes straight to bed. Mistyfoot brings the kids in to say hello, and a plate of food, but she doesn't make an appearance beyond that, either.

* * *

Stonefur had made a promise to himself, that he would remain calm. Whatever happened, he wouldn't risk being removed from the courtroom, and he wouldn't make things worse by being angry.

It is a hard promise to keep.

* * *

They don't celebrate when Tigerstar is sentenced.

It's a normal day. Stormheart goes to school, and Mistyfoot kisses Feathertail on the forehead before she leaves for work. Now that everything is settled, Stonefur's been fixing his paperwork so he can apply for a job.

The kids are starting to transition to just an afternoon nap, and they're tired when Feathertail herds them upstairs.

Stormheart gets home when Stonefur wakes up the kids, although Hawkkit climbs into bed next to Feathertail.

"I'm quiet," he whispers, although it's not that quiet. It's probably best to leave him.

Feathertail blows bubbles for them while Stonefur cooks dinner, and no one says what today is.

#mine #human misty au #long #feathertail #mistystar #stonefur #stormfur #hawkkit + his mom <3 #he does not do that most afternoons tho #he has a lot of energy #however he sees an opportunity and takes it]

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (7/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You have a talk with some friends and get a little job offered

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic...yet)

A/n: this took me so long to write. I hope you like it. Have a wonderful day:)

You walked through the streets on London feeling lost and uneasy. The state record of your father was there, written officially: he was declared dead. You felt like you were going crazy for not even trusting the piece of evidence. You asked the secretary about a million questions about how they even go about certifying a death. The woman looked at you as if you were crazy and you probably looked it. None of the cuts were healed, parts of your face were beginning to bruise, and the stich on your hand was horrendous. At least you didn’t reek of alcohol. It bothered you that the certificate under cause of death read “suicide”. You distinctly remember Sabini tell you that your father had got himself killed.

 ‘Why stage it like a suicide and then tell the underworld you killed him? Couldn’t you have just paid the cops to look the other way?’ A million more questions swarmed your way non of which the secretary could answer.

 And so you left the place walking slowly back home feeling odd. Dead is dead right you don’t need the details. You don’t want them. You tell yourself this as you get home, telling yourself that the uneasy feeling was from the physical night before not because someone was watching you.  

 ‘I’m not safe staying here’ You think to yourself. You start fantasizing about all the different places you could disappear to, the new life you could create for yourself. You just needed enough money to so. That wad of cash underneath your bed was good for a boat ride and hotel stay, not for entire life change. You were gonna need to start saving and earning, more fast. The air was changing and not for the better.

 Once you get home, you can see a lamp on in the window. You try to walk past the figure sitting in the living room, but their voice rings out stopping you from making another move.

 “(Y/n), we need to talk.” Ada says.

 “What about?” you ask sitting opposite of her in the living room.

 “Its about Tommy,” she pauses a minute trying to gauge your reaction, you don’t give any. She sighs, “I just want you to be careful around him.”

 You raise an eyebrow, confused from where this is coming from. “What do you mean?”

 “I mean are you gonna keep coming home looking half dead with my brother having to carry you in here with no sort of explanation?”

 “I’m sorry about that.” You apologize knowing she must have been scared out of her mind seeing you like that. You would have been too had it been her or Trinity.

 “What are you even thinking working for him? Didn’t you want out of your father business, aren’t you on some guys shit list?” Ada takes a deep breath calming herself.

 “I have it under control.” You can hear Ada groan in frustration. You understand why she was so defensive about this. Her family was dangerous and to be around them was like being around death itself. At least that’s how Ada put it.

 “No you don’t just look at yourself!” She sternly says, pointing a finger at you.

 You stifle a laugh from your throat at how motherly she looks, “Ada, please save the parenting for Karl.”

 She rolls her eyes at your jest and gets up from the couch. “Are you gonna work for him again?”

 “If I need the money...”

 “I told you don’t have to pay rent while you stay here. You can take as long as you need to find steady job.”

 You fake a smile and nod your head, “You’re right.” You didn’t want to bring up the unease you’ve been feeling. Or the need to flee the country based on a little paranoia that may just go away. It was unfair to her to place  this burden upon her when she's finally made it out of feeling that way herself. But you’ll be damned if you weren’t gonna at least prepare yourself for the uncertain future.

  *******************************************************************************************

Trinitys apartment was the same as it always has been. Neat to the point where it looked picture perfect. You always wondered when she had the time to keep tidy. You arrived early in the morning, knowing she would be up and that it would be the perfect time to cross into what you thought was still sabinis territory.

 “You know your friend took over the Eden Club. I haven’t seen any of Sabini guys in awhile” Trinity says attempting to ease you as you keep looking out the window.

 “who?”

 “The Shelby’s. I think it was his brother or whatever. I wasn’t there when it happened but I heard it was brutal.”

 “What did sabini do?” You ask.

 “no one heard from him or Alistair.” She states

 “Hmm.” You say finding it odd the gangster hadn’t retaliated yet

 “You know you can maybe work there again? If you asked nicely? The Shelby’s seem to like you.”

 “What makes you say that?”

 “Oh please I was the first person ada called to tell me about you running off with her brother. Did you know they were related?”

 “No.”

 She notices your lack of words. And though trinity wanted to be playful and tease her friend, she was worried.

 “Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

 “Im thinking of leaving, trinity.” You say

 “Why? Where are you going?”

 “Nowhere. Im just thinking.” You sip your tea lightly, feeling the soothing warmth go down your throat, “Something feels wrong.”

 “What is it?”

 “I fear that something nefarious is upon me. And that it’s a matter of time before It decides to kill me.”

 “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

 “I need your help planning.” You say ignoring her questions. You didn’t want to subject her to your nightmares about your father which haven’t ceased at all. In face they were increasing in violence and color. Most of them drawing from memories. If it wasn’t your father that was alive coming to hunt you down, it was most likely a dedicated servant of his. You wondered who was was keeping the business going seeing as you didn’t take over and were the only child of your father. You had no other logical explanation of what the universe was trying to tell you with these dreams and gut feelings.

 You open your purse revealing the wad of money from underneath your bed and papers of different id. “Your gonna hold this for me. When I need it ill come for it, if I add to it ill come here okay? Just make sure it stays hidden and untouched.”

She nods and takes it gently from your hands, “You’re being serious.”

 “Deadly.”

 You stood for a couple more hours, talking and eating until the afternoon came. You said your goodbyes and were on your way back on the streets of London. You felt good about yourself after seeing Trinity. It felt like years since you seen her.

 You hear the honking of an annoying horn bring you out of your thoughts. You see Tommy Shelby behind the wheel, a cocky grin on his face. He parks the car and you wait for him outside not wanting to sit in close proximity of him. He comes around, outing a cigarette loosely around his pink lips. He doesn’t light it.

 “I was looking for you at Adas.” He says standing in front of you with hands in his pockets.

 “Hmm why?” You ask.

 “How are your stiches?”

 “Fine,” your face grows warm as you think about the drunken thoughts you had about him. You had them caged up this time but you were now very aware of the fact that you had them, “what is that you want?” you ask avoiding his eyes, afraid of getting lost in them. You could not afford to grow any sort of attachment to the man. The stories you’ve heard, the warning you’ve gotten from his own sister, you know that he was no good.

 “Take a ride with me.” He simply says walking away from you.

 Your legs move before you think. Following his words like a sailor would a siren. You suddenly felt very self conscious around the man as you sat near him.

 “Where is this coming from?” You think to yourself feeling stupid you begin to argue with yourself in your head trying to find the soure of this new unwanted attraction. Maybe you were still drunk. No its been days. Or maybe you were tired. Sleep has been hard to comeby these days.

 You look across at him and study his features. He was a very handsome man, no doubt about it. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until he catches you.

 “What?” He asks

 “Have you called May?” Your not sure why your mind went to that but it was.

He chuckles, “Are you really that interested in that?”

 “No, im just making conversation.”

 “Well I did. Ill be seeing her later this week. See how shes training my horse.” He sends a smile your way before his eyes go back to the road.

 The smile sends your stomach doing flips. “You know your not as scary as people make you seem, Mr.Shelby.” Another statement slipping from your lips.

 “Trust me, I can be scary. Hand me that file”

 He parks the car in front of lovely looking house, a guard standing outside the gates of it. You hand him the file, next to you on the seats and he fiddles through it. You stare at the house with the guard in front of it through the rearview mirror.

 “Why are we parked here?” You ask you eyes trained to the rearview mirror

 “Had to make a stop.”

 You see the guard notice the car and head towards you. He walks toward your window and leans in. “Sir,” The guard says totally ignoring your presence, “You cant park here.”

 “Apologies, me and the Mrs. were just lost.”

 “Well get a move on.” Thomas starts the car and moves it one block a way before parking again. He checks his watch.

 “23 seconds,” He say to himself writing it down, “Are you gonna ask any questions?”

 “I think I would rather leave this one alone.”

 “Smart girl.”

 You end up driving 2 more hours around the city. He tells you about the Eden club takeover and how his brother Arthur is now running the game there. Sabini hasn’t been seen inawhile. Nor his most trustworthy comapnions

 “Do you know Alfie solomons?” He asks

 “I do.” Alfie Solomon’s to you was an unpredictable man, You never could predict what he was gonna say.

 “I was gonna have Arthur have dinner with him alone. But Arthur doesn’tknow Solomon’s too well.”

 “Mr. Shelby-“

 “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to.” His eyes burn into your skull. You take all the self control you have to not turn your head and stare into them.

 You think about the proposition and grow very hesitant. A part of you wants to take it and another part doesn’t. Quick money could be very useful to you but at what cost if its for situations like this. A dinner with gangsters could become deadly very quickly with one wrong move.

 “When is this dinner?”

 “Friday.”

 “Ill give you answer before than” You say seeing it was Tuesday. You open the door to the car and walk out of it. You were beginning to suffocate under his stare and you needed to breath.

 The air was crisp and refreshing to your lungs as you speedy walk down the streets making lefts and rights. The annoying horn returns to your ears as soon as you feel calm. You turn back around to scream when you realize its not the same car. It’s a black car with weird, tinted window, almost like a police car. The windows roll down, revealing a man with grey, busy eyebrows and mustache. His eyes held an evil glint in them

 (Y/fn) (y/ln)?” He asks do it looked like he already knew the answer in his head that he knew who he had.

 “Sorry wrong gal.” You lie turning around to get out for whatever situation that was.

 “Get her boys.” You hear the man sigh. You feel large hands grab around your body and large funny smelly napkin forced against your mouth.

 ‘Chloroform’ you think as you pass out into the darkness.

Read pt.8

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Fanfic

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au. Normal Au.

Word count: 5,300+ (oof, Shalnark fans are going to be well fed)

Warnings: Spoliers from Manga Chapter 357+, Blood/gore, Cursing, Bad Coworker, Character Death, PTSD, Slight Angst, Fluff, I’m not a doctor and even if I did research not everything here is going to be accurate and correct

Author note: Honestly, I should’ve spent today working on my 100 follower special but I accidentally had a intresting thought after watching the phantom troupe fighting chimera ants. So... I grew back my love for smiley boi Shalnark and I had a thought about an intresting scenario. So, you ended up with this.

(Pt.2)—>

“You on your dinner break, (Y/n)?” Evan, your coworker says. You watch as he leans over the counter of the desk of the intensive care unit and raises an eyebrow at you as you chew on your taco salad. You squint your eyes at the man and gesture to your salad, like “seriously it’s obvious”. Evan laughs but soon let’s out a groan and stretches.

“You okay?” You say sloppily due to you still eating your salad. Afterall, you only had half an hour allowed to eat dinner before going back to work.

“Eh. Rough shift.” Evan says and Groans again as his hand massages over a specific muscle on his shoulder, “Did you hear about the situation down at Heaven’s Arena?”

You shake your head, you hadn’t heard anything today due to the number of patients you had to attend to in the intensive care unit. It was usually pretty crazy here after all. Though, there are some pretty bad cases that come into the emergency department as well, which Evan worked at, especially from Heaven’s Arena. So this wasn’t anything usual.

“Basically, there was a death match between floor masters Hisoka Morow and Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Yeesh, so one of them came in still half alive?” You mumble, cringing at the thought. You dislike the brutality of what happens at some of the floors. It just wasn’t needed most of the time, especially with what almost happened to a boy named Gon, who Evan took care of.

“No. Worse. One of them manipulated most of the crowd and blew up the top floor so we have multiple casualties being rushed in.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be there right now?”

“Just got off shift. I’m staying, of course, just in case, but I’m waiting for them to check with the supervis—“

“Just wheel him out of here! He’s practically brain dead already!!” A screech resounds around the Intensive Care Unit as a slam of door comes after.

“But, Miss—“

“No! I said to pronounce him dead.”

You and Evan whip your head around to see what the yelling about, but you soon cringe as you see who it is. It was Sala Monodo, one of the head surgeons in charge of the Emergency Department. She was a really good surgeon but a greedy and nasty woman, along with one of the reasons why you switched from the Emergency Department to the intensive care unit.

You mumble a “what the fuck..” under your breath and place down your salad. Of course it would be this bitch to deny the ambulance crew to treat a still alive patient.

You rush around the counter and to the ambulance workers that had rolled the person down the hallway. Dale, an older worker of the Ambulance crew of the hospital, recognizes you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dale. What’s the situation?” You say, speed walking and examining the patient still on the stretcher. Man, this guy was in terrible condition. He was a young blonde haired man with blood just gushing from his nose. So much so he might even die from blood loss. It also didn’t help that he had lacerations and bruises on his wrists. Was this patient also caught up at the mess at Heaven’s Arena? No… there’s no burns which would have happened if he was part of an explosion.

“Young man, about mid-twenties, found hanged by his wrist at the playground downtown. No ID on him or info found in our Database. We do have a hunter’s License but that will take a while for Identification….”

Crap… that’s not good. Now, you don’t know if he takes any medication or if he’s allergic to any. On top of that we also don’t know his blood type or any past medical conditions, which will probably be useful in this situation.

“Our main problem is it seems he has a severe to moderate traumatic brain injury. Which is causing bad swelling of the brain. Along with a troubling possibility of damage to his spinal cord but that is still unconfirmed. We—“

“Dale, his heart stopped!” One of the other ambulance workers says. Fuck, that is the last thing we need right now. You quickly jump on top of the man on the stretcher as it continues to be wheeled and begin to give chest compressions.

“Dale, wheel—“ “What the hell are you doing?!?”

You glare towards Sala, still not stopping the chest compressions. “I said mark him as deceased! We are at max capacity in the Emergency room!”

You raise an eyebrow at the woman as Evan, who had sprinted over as well, jaw drops to the floor. Was this bitch serious? He’s still alive! He was breathing up until a couple of seconds ago. It also didn’t help that he needed to get him to the emergency room and you had no time to waste arguing with her. You know what… this will probably get you fired but oh well.

“Mal!” You shout as loud as you can for the Front desk women at the Intensive Care Unit. Mal, an older woman, runs out as fast as she can from a back room nearby, causing the door to slam against the wall. “Sign this patient under my name! We don’t have any identification yet so just roll with a description.”

Mal nods her head and runs in the direction of the front desk.

“You can’t do that!! He’s my patient so I say what happens!” Sala says screeching like a banshee at you. She chucks papers at you, probably the files to name this unknown man deceased. You only chuckle at her and give her a taunting look.

“Well, according to the paperwork, he’s a patient of the intensive care unit. So he’s mine now and I’m going to prove you wrong by making sure he lives.”

Sala goes to rebut but you cut her off. “Evan, pick up the papers she threw! Dale, take a blood sample and run it to the lab! I want his blood type and anything unusual. You two, wheel me to room 12, I’m going to need to get this man stable before we do a CAT scan on him.”

The other two ambulance personnel nod and turn you to that direction. Sala, unfortunately, is still chasing after you, not wanting to let this go. You give her a glare because you honestly don’t have time for this. You had just finished your thirty chest compressions so you need to give him air, fast.

Taking two fingers and you push the man’s head back to open his airway. Carefully, you put your lips on his, trying to not cringe at the sudden wetness and taste of blood, and give him two rescue breaths. You mentally sigh in relief as you watch his chest somewhat rise up at each of your breaths. That meant his airway thankfully wasn’t blocked and you could give him oxygen. Though it wasn’t lifting as much as usual which told you there was either a problem of the amount of blood blocking his airway or some being in his lungs.

You pull away from the man’s lips, yours tainted a little scarlet from his blood. You thankfully, as you lift up, lock eyes with a security personal and gesture to Sala. “Get this wacko out of here now! We have a situation!”

The security nods and grabs onto Sala who screeches and tries to fight back. Now that that was taken care of you can finally get this guy stable.

As the two ambulance personnel finally wheel you into room 12, you tell and gesture at them to leave and go. After all, they still had calls to get to and you had plenty of nurses who could help you out in a situation like this.

They thanked you and sprinted out, making sure to not bother you. Ok, so now that no one that was unauthorized was here you could try to see if you could use your Nen to try and stable him. Pulling your hands up, you close your eyes and focus. Focusing on sensing the blood in his body. Crap, your worst nightmare was true. There was blood blocking the airway through his nose and some in his lungs. Along with a conformation of swelling and too much blood in his brain. You now realize you can’t wait for a CAT scan or any other nurses to rush over here. You need to treat this man now or he will 100% be unable to be saved.

Taking some scissors from the metal tray, you carefully cut off the man’s purple tunic like shirt and his black undershirt. You throw the scissor back into the tray and put your hands in the middle of the man’s bare chest. Your heart was thumping out of your chest at the thought of not being quick enough. Come on (y/n), focus. This isn’t the time. You need to manipulate the unnecessary blood out of his body.

Taking a deep breath in, you run your hands up the man’s chest, around his neck and finally to his lips and nose. You slowly open your eyes and lift your hands away. You watch as blood in bubble-like shapes float out of the man’s nose and mouth. Swirling them all around in the air until it’s in a perfect droplet, you bend the blood over to a dish and drop it in it. Man, were you glad that you stuck to your gut and told your sensei you were going to manipulate blood. He didn’t think it was a smart choice but hey, suck it Sensei Matt. Look at how useful it is now.

After you made the blood clot the open wounds of the nose, all you had to do now, since there was no longer a risk of him drowning in his own blood or his airway possibly being blocked, you just needed to reduce the amount swelling to the brain and bring fresh oxygen throughout everything in his body to keep him alive.

Ok, you take a deep breath and raise your shaky hands. You can do this. All you needed to do was manipulate his blood throughout his whole body like a normal cycle, manipulate the blood in his heart to pump, and give him 2 rescue breaths every 30 cycles until he is stable or until blood tests come back. You can… You clench your hand in determination. No, you will do this.

————🚨📱🚨————

“What do you mean I’m wrong!?!”

You sit there rubbing your temples as you watch as one of the directors of the hospital sighs and explains how I'm not in trouble, to Sala, again. You lightly lean back in your chair and try to drown out the chaos in front of you.

It has been about a month since the incident with the 25 year old man, Shalnark, that got admitted to the hospital. Thankfully, you found out his name and age from the Hunter Association a week ago. Though it took them way too long to give it to you guys in your opinion. Along with the fact they didn’t give it to you personally and instead the department. Which gave Sala the opportunity to snoop and learn his name in order to try and get you in trouble with the Higher ups. But, it seems, due to what is going on right now, her plan has backfired. Though why wouldn’t it?! She denied a still alive man that you saved.

Afterall, Shalnark was now stable and on his way to recovering, thanks to your efforts. Though, he was currently in a coma. A big problem since you didn’t know how long he would stay that way either. But, at least since Shalnark is a skilled Nen user so he is able to heal pretty quickly and you hoped he would be able to be out of his comatose state between the next week to month. Since it seemed to be caused by brain damage.

So far while he was under your watch, with your blood manipulation you were able to heal and not cause scar tissue for most of the nerves in his spine and brain so he wouldn’t suffer from any permanent damage and be back to normal. Well…, not off the bat, he would still have to go through a lengthy recovery. One being doing some serious physical therapy sessions since he would still have to relearn a lot of his movements.

You take a sigh. Why are you worrying about this now? Well… it was probably due to the fact when you were washing him up after you saved him you saw his tattoo. A twelve legged spider. The symbol of loyalty to the phantom troupe. You haven’t told anyone, after all that would jeopardize his recovery and send hunters flooding in to try and kill him. Though—

The door suddenly slams open, startling everyone in the room. You quickly turn to see Evan, clearly out of breath, standing there.

“I’m…” Evan wheezes suddenly, “I’m so sorry Sir! But I need to tell (y/n) something. It’s important!”

The director nods his head, “Go right ahead. But, she can’t leave the room until the meeting ends.”

“Of course sir!”

Evan turns to you and smiles like a mad man. You just raise an eyebrow. What the fracking hell. Did Evan put crack cocaine in his coffee this morning or something?

“(Y/n). Shalnark is awake!”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you frantically stand up. “R-really? How’s he doing?!”

You take a gulp as you feel your throat tighten. You were scared to hear what Evan has to say. Afterall, Shalnark is the patient you have spent the most time with out of all of every patient you have ever taken care of. Mostly due to the fact he was in such a bad condition at first but, eventually, due to how you had grown attached to really wanting him to make a full recovery.

“He’s okay. He’s in a minimalistic conscious state so he’s very confused and unsure of what’s going on.”

“I-I need to check on him then. Sir, I’m sor—“

The director raises his hand to stop you from continuing and stands up. He quickly grabs some sheets of paper and hands them out to you, a small smile on his face. “No need to apologize. Just take these and go.”

“Thank you Sir!”

You take them and bow before the man. Quickly, not even bothering with taking the elevator, you rush over to the intensive care unit. Finally there, you catch yourself on the door of room 12, almost slipping past it and falling.

Panting, you look into the room to see Shalnark moving around frantically as male nurses try to hold him down. Sure, it wasn’t the best scene to see but it was at least a relief to finally see his eyes open and that he could move around.

You start to approach the bed causing one of the male nurses to notice and yell at you, “Doctor (l/n), I don’t think it’s a good idea! He crushed one of the nurse’s hands when he first woke up.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You say as you finally reach the side of his bed. “Shalnark. I need you to calm down for me.”

“W-who?!” Shalnark looks around frantically but is cut off by his own wheezing. You lean over to examine his eyes and see that they are harshly dilated. So, that’s why he is hostile, he probably can’t even see.

Hesitantly, you reach over and grab the Shalnark’s hand. You squint your eyes and grit your teeth as you know what's going to happen next. You flinch as Shalnark squeezes down and breaks your hand.

Shakily, you hold up your other hand and signal the male nurses to let go of him. As soon as they let go, Shalnark frantically looks around due to being unable to see them and not knowing where they went.

“Shalnark.” You grab the man’s attention and he turns to you. You pause and take a harsh inhale as he squeezes a bit more on your hand. He might be hostile and seem angry but you can feel his hand shaking as he holds in a death grip, telling you he was confused and frightened. “Shalnark. My name is (y/n) (l/n) and the doctor that was assigned to taking care of you in the Intensive Care Unit. I apologize that I suddenly caught you off guard and touched you. You’ve been out for quite some while and had some pretty harsh injuries so I was concerned and didn’t think of the consequences. I’m not sure if you can hear or understand me but could you let go of my hand as a sign you can?”

The room goes silent as you and the other staff wait for his response. Thankfully, Shalnark hesitantly lets go of your hand.

“Thank you. Now I’m just going to put the bed into an upright position so I can examine you. I don’t want you moving your head back and forth anymore due to your injuries so I’m going to have one of the nurses bring you a cup of water so you can speak. I’m going to touch your hand, can you please squeeze it to confirm if you think you can drink some water? If not, you can take your hand away.”

You softly reach over with your non-broken hand and hold onto his. You wait for a couple of seconds before you feel Shalnark lightly squeeze down on your hand. Looking over, you nod to the nurse who grabs a cup of water and walks over.

“The nurse has a cup of water. You can’t see right?”

Shalnark squeezes your hand again.

“Ok. I’m just going to take your hand and place it on my arm. I’m going to help you drink the cup of water. Just squeeze to let me know when you have enough.”

You softly put the edge of the cup to Shalnark’s lips. You were being very careful when tilting it upwards so you don’t spill water or give him too much at once. Shalnark thankfully drinks every single last drop, though you had expected that after all it had been nearly a month since he last drank anything.

You take the empty cup away. “Can you talk, Shalnark? I don’t want to give you too much water just in case your stomach can’t handle it.”

Shalnark clears his throat a couple of times. “Y-yes… yes.”

You watch his face carefully. His speech isn't slurred and his face wasn’t lopsided, which thankfully told you the parts of his brain that deal with conversations and the movements in his face were functioning normally. You would definitely have to treat Betty to dinner for agreeing to help you by fixing his nose and taking out the scar tissue in his face and nose.

“Good. Now, I’m just going to examine you…” you trail off at the end as you are surprised. When you went to move, it caused him to lose the grip on your arm. He frantically reaches around and grabs onto your hand, thankfully not the broken one. How weird. “Are you okay?”

“Ah.” Shalnark seems embarrassed and conflicted with himself for a second, “I just can’t see. I-it’s weird and…”

“Oh. If it’s reassuring you are allowed to hold onto my hand if you want to.”

Shalnark lets out a small thank you, it’s hard to hear but you don’t press into him about it. “Well, I’m going to first test the feeling in your body. I’m going to put a little pressure on each part of your body and I want you to say if you feel any pain or not. You don’t have to move or anything, just let me know. Also, you should probably close your eyes, after all you can’t see which tells me there's a brain injury and the bright light might end up giving you a big headache later.”

Patiently, you watch as Shalnark closes his green eyes. You almost felt sad that you couldn’t see them anymore but you shake away that thought. You need to take care of him first, not worry about trivial things.

————🚨📱🚨————

“Ok so that was the last of the tests. Honestly, you’re in pretty good condition regarding your situation Shalnark.” You say as another doctor wraps your broken hand. God, Nen was always super convenient in pretty much any medical case. You didn’t even have to get stitches or surgery for your hand! Only wrapping and a warning to try to not use it too much.

“Ah I see. H-How long do you think I’ll be here for?” Shalnark says, his eyes still closed as he fidgets with your other hand. He’s been doing that for quite some time, you wondered if maybe he was nervous.

“Hmm. That’s tough to say since we don’t really have any other parts of your medical history. But, an educated guess? I would probably give you a week or two to solve the head trauma symptoms and to introduce your body back into normal food and fluids. Then, during that time and maybe a little after, I’m going to help get your arm and legs back to functioning. Finally, you will probably start some physical therapy so you can relearn how to move and make sure everything is okay. So I would say 2-3 months? Though, it might take shorter or longer depending on the way your body adapts.” You say, letting go of Shalnark’s hand to write a prescription down and handing it to the other doctor who had just finished wrapping your arm, “Derek, do you think you could run this to Mal? I’m going to need some ibuprofen for both me and him.”

“Sure thing. Need anything else?”

“Nope that’s all. Thank you.”

The door clicks lightly as Derek exits the room. You let a drag out sigh. Man, what a crazy day it was today. Almost the craziest you’ve ever had. Oh! You almost forgot. You stretch out your body like a cat from your chair to grab the papers on the counter. You completely forgot the papers that the director had given you. Let’s see…

“(Y/n)?”

You let out a humm to Shalnark to let him know you were listening.

“So, were you the one to take care of me this whole time?”

“Yep.” You flick to the next page.

“Did you happen to help me… get dressed? Bathe me?”

You turn the other page over. “Yes. Usually the nurses do it but, due to your condition, I was the only personnel trusted to do it. Don’t worry though, it’s something we do often in intensive care.”

You pause in your reading as you feel the air shift around you. You slowly look up and towards Shalnark, who for the first time since he woke up, smiled at you. A seemingly nice closed eyed smile. Though, you could tell it was anything but nice.

“You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious on my back, right?”

Ah. So that’s why. “No. I did. You're talking about the twelve legged spider tattoo, right?”

The air grows thicker around you two and you go back to looking through your papers.

“Though no one else knows, neither does it say it in your medical records. Though, I didn’t put a record for you here in the first place.”

The air suddenly stops being tense and clears up. You look up slightly from your paper before looking back down as you see Shalnark was completely blank faced. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t put a record. You had one when you entered but I deleted it. It’s one of the many privileges you have since you have a Hunter license.”

“I know that. But, why doesn’t anyone else know? K…” Shalnark pauses for a moment, seeming to try and calm himself down, “Kortopi is dead and the police should be knocking down the door to interrogate me. Also, you know I’m part of the troupe. You should be contacting the bounty hunters and collecting the A-List bounty for my head.”

You let out a sigh and place the papers down on the bed sheet.

“Well I am a Hunter. I took the 284th Hunter’s Exam.” You cringe as you feel the room get tense again and some of Shalnark’s bloodlust leaks out. “Not that sort of Hunter. I would kill myself if I ever be came a jackpot hunter or a bounty hunter. I don’t care about money, fame or whatever.”

You take a pause and sigh again. “The Bounty Hunters or Police won’t be questioning you at all. Your friend’s tattoo was never found and I used my license to stop the police and the Hospital from thinking of questioning you or collecting any info. So, you can rest easy that you aren’t being track”

The air seems to calm down but only a little bit before it gets even tenser than before. You looked up stunned as you heard a crash and see that Shalnark had thrown something at the counter with an angry face. “Why? Huh!? Just turn me over and leave me to die! Take your reward and go! I don’t want your—“

“Will you calm down for one second!?” You yell out, breaking your composure for the first time in front of him. “If I really wanted to turn you in I would have a month ago. I don’t care for money at all! The reason…”

You trail off at the end and clench your fist. Memories of your past flashing through your thoughts. Getting all tangled with your emotions, making it harder to think. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

“The reason I became a Hunter is to help people, no matter who it is or what has happened. If I told anyone, and I mean anyone about who you are, that would jeopardize you getting better. I’m not turning back on a promise I made, no matter if you're part of the troupe or not, you're still my patient and I’m going to make sure you make a full recovery.”

The room goes silent and you neaten up your papers before standing up. The chair makes a harsh screech against the cold tile floors. You pause before you take a step and turn to Shalnark. His head dropped so you couldn’t see his expression. “I just read the documents my director gave me. Due to the incident with emergency care, the hospital is going to pay all of your medical bills and I’m going to have less to no patients so I can watch and take care of you during my shifts so you can make a whole recovery. It’s now the night shift so I’m officially off the clock and I’m going to go home but if you need anything you can press the button on your bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk away from the bed and clutch your hand onto the cold door knob. Man, what a depressing way to end this. You usually could handle anything that was thrown at you, maybe you need a better night’s sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well lately after all.

“(Y/n).”

You pause your movements at Shalnark’s voice, the door somewhat still open. You almost don’t hear the next thing he says but your eyes widen as you do.

“Please. Please don’t go.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t expected it. It was just that Shalnark’s voice sounded so small. So frightened. Like a kitten stuck out in the freezing rain. Something you hadn’t ever heard from a citizen of Meteor city and something you didn’t think you would ever hear from a member of the Phantom Troupe. A notorious gang of thieves. You slowly close the door and turn around to him.

You can’t see Shalnark’s face as you walk over to him. Slowly, you grab onto his face and turn him to look at you. You feel his face shaking in your hand and you see him clenching his eyes shut.

You hadn’t even thought of it before now. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility. But now it makes sense. He was easily startled, something that shouldn’t be easy for a thief or criminal. He was constantly on guard before examining him, during and after. He only smiled once and often spaced out. He got randomly and suddenly aggressive at times. And most importantly, he continually avoided the subject of what happened to him and when he finally told you, he didn’t remember important details of what happened. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen it before, Shalnark was showing classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder.

The problem is that you couldn’t do anything for it right now. Solutions for PTSD either need medications or therapy. And you currently can’t get him either. All you can hopefully do is find a way to calm him down and get him to sleep. You could talk to some of the other doctors and contact some therapist in the morning to help actually diagnose and help him, it was just too late at night for any of that right now.

“Shalnark.” You slowly rub your thumb soothingly up and down his face. His breathing hitches for a second before seeming to slowly begin to go back to normal. “I’m actually going to stay for the night. Is there anything, and I mean anything, I can do to help you?”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds and you stop rubbing his face.

“C-can you just keep on doing that?” Shalnark softly squeaks out.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“I’m… I’m good.”

“You sure? I’m going to be here the whole night so you can say anything.” It might seem weird to the average person to say anything again but you knew you needed to make sure. People with PTSD will commonly feel great feelings of guilt, shame or hopelessness and will close themselves off from people. So, you need to reassure at the beginning that Shalnark can ask you for anything and that he can trust you.

“Could…” Shalnark trails off, slightly fidgeting in front of you.

“It’s fine. You can say it. It won’t bother me.”

“Could. Could you like… hold me?”

You could tell based on how he was acting that asking for something like that was definitely not normal for him. Especially since he’s from Meteor City. Which from your experience don’t show most to any sign of affection or vulnerable feelings.

“Of course. I’m going to sit in the bed, okay?”

“Yeah…” Shalnark shuffles over, giving you room.

You slowly climb into the medical bed; it lightly creaking under your weight. Carefully you reach both hands, even your broken one, and hold onto him. You can feel him stiff under your touch and watch as he plays with and twitches his fingers.

“Shalnark. You are okay to hold me if you want. Just completely relax, No one is allowed to come into this room without my permission.”

Shalnark seems to finally break under your words and he uses his working arm to pull you into him. With some slight shuffling and moving, you are both finally comfortable and laying down. Shalnark was facing you, his face hidden in your neck as he held onto you like as if you were some sort of stuffed animal. You feel the man in your arms slowly begin to lull off to sleep as you run your fingers through his hair.

As you held the man in your arms in the dark room, you now knew that Shalnark’s recovery won’t take 3 months. Maybe physically but definitely not mentally.

But, you knew that as long as you stayed by Shalnark’s side and just helped him through it, it could be possible.

Slowly, you reach over and hold his hand in yours which he lightly squeezes back.

After all, all it takes is one helping hand.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh scenarios #shalnark #shalnark x reader #hxh shalnark

[siempre-pedro]

Should I Tell Her?

Javier Peña x Reader 

Summary: Colleen is reveling in her new found confidence after Javi comments on her nails. She messed with the wrong woman after she starts giving “friendly” advice to you. 

A/N: Colleen babe I am so sorry I am doing this to you. You don’t deserve this “villain” card. I just had to do it. 

Word count: 2k 

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Kinda like back in high school when that cute senior boy would say hello to you once and you were hooked? Made you believe that he liked you? Yeah, that's how Colleen saw it. You were there the day Javi waltzed into your shared office with the woman and charmed her to get what he wanted. Friendly, but charming and oh boy was the poor woman hooked. You thought nothing of it originally, Javi flirted to get what he wanted regularly. 

"Y/N!" Colleen perks up when you walked into the office a few mornings after the encounter. A little too cheery for 8:30 in the morning, you offer up a polite smile and put your small white bag on your desk "Look, look, I got my nails done again," she announced pointing her hands down to show off the deep purple color of her manicure. 

"Cute, did you go to that place down the street?" You ask, taking your morning apple out of your bag. Colleen nods and cocks her head, her lips pouting. 

"I'm sure Javi will notice." Your eyebrows raise, almost surprised at her words. She was giddy and excited about the future interaction that they might face. You touch the cold apple to your lips, tapping it gently, was now the right time to tell her? Nah, it probably wasn't going to happen again. 

The sounds of loud chatter from the distance were making their way to the office, a conversation of having terrible Spanish made you laugh. Pena and Murphy entered the room, looking at each other with boyish smiles on their faces. "Morning guys, how can I help you?" Colleen asked over-enthusiastically making you roll her eyes. Javi places his hands down on her desk and looks at her paperwork. 

Taking a bite you watched her lean into him, God you wanted to choke. "I just wanted to say thanks for the id, it really helped," Javi thanked her graciously and tapped his knuckles on her desk. He stood up straight and started to walk off with his partner. The agent offered a quick good morning to you as he walked past your desk. 

You waved your hand at him nonchalantly and sat back in your brown leather chair, unamused. Colleen sighs and turns to you, sympathy etched on her face as she watched you eat. Your Y/E/C catches her gaze in your peripheral view and slowly start to turn your eyes towards her. 

Taking another bite of your apple she starts to speak "I'm sorry that happened, Y/N." 

"Sorry for what?" You ask confused in between chews. 

"Javi saw you with food in your mouth," she says, "I know you have a crush on him." 

Her words made you choke on your apple, roughly coughing into your elbow and putting the remainder of the fruit on your desk. "E-excuse me?" You ask in shock, your cheeks went red from the choking, not a blush, make no mistake! 

"I see how you look at him, Honey. Maybe next time don't have food in your mouth, I'm so glad I didn't." 

You were stunned by the audacity of your co-worker's passive-aggressiveness "I don't have a crush on Peña" you defend yourself, which was partly true. You didn't have to have a crush on him. 

Colleen crosses her legs and looks away from you, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention to her computer. The audacity! Your mouth hung open as you watched her work. Maybe it was a good time to tell her. 

The first comment snowballed into an almost everyday occurrence. You went about your day and she wouldn't hesitate to make a comment about you. God forbid you had a small hole in your stocking...you didn't tell her why you did. For the most part, you were able to block it out, sometimes it was even laughable. You didn't need him to notice you, but the brunette was desperate for the agent's attention. 

12:30 rolled around a week later and you were starving, the golden-brown bagel sitting on your desk was calling your name, sitting there underneath the heat of your desk lamp. "Javi's coming don't eat that!" Colleen warns you as the two men walked in. 

You grimace and pick up the bagel, taking a large bite out of spite "Y/N can you bring me those papers, please?" Javi asks as he stops in front of your desk. Murphy stands behind him, his watchful eyes watching Colleen glaring at you. What the hell was going on? 

Swallowing, you nod "Yeah, they should almost be done printing. I'll be right there." You got up and made sure to take another bite of your snack, giving Colleen a scowl as you walk towards the printer,  "I need carbs, Colleen." 

"Does she know?" Murphy asks as you walk into their office, slapping the thick stack of reports onto Javi's desk. You shake your head and sit on the corner of your boyfriend's desk, your dress draping nicely over your knees. 

"Nope," you respond, a small amused smile forming on your lips. Javi stood in between you and his partner, arms crossed over his chest. He was confused as you two looked at each other in shared amusement. 

"You should tell her," Steve comments. 

"I will if her little...," you sigh deeply "comments get worse. I have to get back to work, I'll see you guys for dinner later." Hoping off the desk, Javi came up behind you and gently caught you by the bicep. You stopped walking and turned to him, unconsciously leaning into him. It was a habit.

"Is something wrong, Hermosa?" he asks in a hushed tone, he brought his face closer to yours, catching a whiff of the expensive cologne you bought him. 

"It's just Colleen, Javi. It's no big deal," you reassure him, the corners of your lips turning upwards into a kind smile. The man nods and lets you go, opening the door for you. 

What you said wasn't a lie, the words didn't bother you but they did make you hungrier. They didn't bother you until the next morning when you walked in wearing a new dress, it was a form-fitting dark blue dress and you felt really good, your self-confidence was thriving. 

You walked into the office with your head held high and Colleen looked at you with a big grin "Y/N! Oh my God, that dress! It's so cute," she comments. You smile at her and take a seat at your desk, turning on your computer. 

Colleen was silent, but she couldn't help but notice you in that dress, she sighs and stops typing. Her hands folded in her lap, looking towards you with a condescending look that you could just slap if you noticed her. 

"That's brave of you to wear something like that," she says with a smile, the fakeness dripping off every word.  You pause and look up from your screen, but never at her. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Yeah wearing something like that... I mean, you're brave with having that kind of shape." Your blood was boiling at this point, your jaw clenched so tight you were afraid of breaking it. "Javi's into a whole other woman, I think I fit his type... I think I'm going to ask him out." 

It was amazing how someone could sound cold and mean and then at the very end of the sentence twist her tone into mock kindness. That bitch. It was all fun and games until she mentioned Javier and her body type. You take your fingers off the keys and rise from your seat. Seething anger apparent on your features.  All fun and games until someone gets hurt. Ready to raise a fist to the woman, the sound of fast footsteps were becoming louder

"Y/N, I need your help in the evidence room, we got a lead on Escobar," Javi was quick, almost running past you as he spoke. The urgency couldn't be ignored. You simply shake your head at the women in front of you and take off after Javi. 

Following him into the room, you start looking at the back wall where most of the new evidence was stored "What are we looking for. Photos? Call records?" the agent didn't answer, he was too busy locking the door and shutting the blinds. 

"I need none of those things," he practically growls. He walks up behind you and places his large hands on your hips, spinning you around. "I've missed you, Mi Amor," his words are muffed, his lips attacking your neck. You let out a small breathy moan and look up at the ceiling. 

"Javi," you squeak, grabbing at his olive green shirt. You just weren't into it, normally you were ready for him to take you on the desk behind him but Colleen's words linger in your mind. 

Javier could feel how tense you were, he removes his lips with a small noise and looks up at you "Y/N, is something bothering you?" he asks, his deep brown eyes staring into yours. 

You could have easily said no and let him carry on but instead, you push past him and put your hands on your hips "I-it's just Colleen and her misplaced confidence," you groan. Picking up a stack of papers only to slam them back down in frustration, Javi crosses his arms and leans against the metal shelving. "I should have just told her we were together! But no! She had to go and have the audacity to say I wasn't your type and she was!" You were almost yelling. 

Javi looks down at the floor, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he listens to you rant. He knows this is his fault, he shouldn't have given her the attention he did to get information. Fuck. He looks back up at you, now pacing back and forth in the small room as you ranted, God you looked amazing in the dress he bought you. Perfection is what he saw. 

He pushes himself off the wall and moves over to you, wrapping your figure in his embrace "Listen, Baby," he starts, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead mustache making your nose crinkle, "This is my fault, Y/N." 

"No, Javi...I should have said something about us," you admitted, shaking your head. The man pulls back and runs his hands down your tense bicep 

"Baby, you are my just my type...and so much more. There's no comparison." 

"Promise?" Your eyebrows knit together, eyes starting to fill with tears. He steps a little closer and places his hands on your sides, fingers hooking the fabric and slowly hiking the dress up. The new cold feeling on your thighs sent shivers through your body. 

"I promise," he purrs in your ear, "Why don't I clear off that desk and show you just how much my type you are, Hermosa." 

The next morning you sat at your desk, turtle neck top covering up the hickies from the night before. Turns out Javi wasn't done after their time in the evidence room. Colleen wasn't giving you any problems, the silence was music to your ears. 

Javier and Steve walked into the room, Javi's hands full with two coffee's and a pastry in a fancy bag barely handing on. "Colleen this is for you," Javi tells her cheerfully, handing her the basic white to-go cup. Colleen's face perked up and happily took it from him. 

The agent didn't say anything after she said thank you, except offered a polite smile before walking to your desk "Good morning, Mi Amor," he greets you lovingly, his voice raising when he says the pet name. The woman next you glancing over at you two. 

You stood up and smiled "Good morning, Javi." He holds out the more elaborate to go up and pastry "Is this from the place by your apartment?" you ask, looking at the little logo on the cup. 

"Yeah I know you like it there, I hope you like it." Javi leans in and you know what he's about to do. The kiss was probably too much for the workplace, the way a small about of his tongue could be seen entering your mouth. Colleen's eyes were about to bug out of her head! Her mouth opened wide and eyes furrowed in anger. 

Murphy coughed awkwardly and turned his head "We uh- should get to work, Jav," he warns. 

Javier pulls away with a satisfied smirk "Have a good day, Ladies." 

You watch them walk away, bringing the steaming hot cup of coffee to your lips, the smirk very present. You glance over at Colleen who was frozen with shock. The look alone wiped any thought of vengeance you had. You sat sipping your coffee happily, and she never spoke about the situation again. 

#javier pena #javier pena imagine #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #reader insert

[atinydise]

Ateez meeting their s/o for the first time in vacations but they’re already dating an idol (2/2)

❦ Genre: Fluff.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3k3.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

❦ Warning: ⚠️ All the names here are fictives and are not related to an idol or a public figure.

Part 1

SAN

San was so excited, there was so many things on his ‘To-Do-List’. They were on a break for 3 weeks. A rest well deserved. They planned a nice trip where they could rest, play and enjoy their time without a staff member around to tell what they need to do or not. That’s the main reason of why San was happy, he could do everything he wants to do. “Let’s go at the aquarium!” he shouted, grabbing Wooyoung’s arm. “Why are you so excited?” asked Seonghwa. “It’s not like you’re going to swim with shark again!” laughed Yunho. San got chills; this memory would be a memorable experience but a terrifying one also.

“I know but there’s a mermaid performance in 12 minutes!” Yeosang sighed, “you are unbelievable San….” “Let’s go please please please!” he begged. “Okay okay,” said Hongjoong on the right way, followed by the other members. “Hurry up!” shouted San. “I will give him as a dinner for the sharks,” whispered Seonghwa. When they got in the aquarium, San was running everywhere to see every fish one by one. “You are walking too fast!” complained Wooyoung, still pulled by San. “You should relax a bit San, or you will get a syncope!” laughed Mingi. The member rolled his eyes. He was okay but they weren’t following his excitation that’s all. He calmed down and continued to admire all these pretty fishes. That’s how he spotted you. You had the same smile on your face. Being amazed by the atmosphere here. You crouched down to see a little medusa. San found you cuter than anyone else here. He loved to see how your smile went wide when a fish came near you. He couldn’t resist but to come next to you. “It’s cute huh?” he smiled, pointing at the medusa. “Yes! She’s flawless and so intimidating at the same time.” “But we all know that she is dangerous!” “You just need to pee on the wound,” you laughed. San cringed at how disgusting it was. “I’m kidding!” you said. He giggled, “I’m San! Nice to meet you!” You bowed politely, “I’m Y/N!” He stayed with you 5 more minutes to talk about the crab hid in the corner, between seashells. But Wooyoung came and interrupted his speech. “San, your mermaid show is starting in 5 minutes.” “Oh! I almost forgot.” Wooyoung stared at you, trying to know if you were a good girl or someone trying to take advantage of his friend’s kindness. “Oh sorry,” he said, feeling the awkwardness. ”Wooyoung here’s Y/N! Y/N here’s my best friend Wooyoung!” The boy nodded while you couldn’t manage to say anything, too intimidated. “Do you want to come with us?” asked San. “Huh… I don’t want to bother-“ “No! It’s going to be funny!” “O-Okay.” “Let’s go!” shouted San. Surprisingly, he grabbed your arm and not Wooyoung’s one. It was unusual. “Wow, he ditched you for a girl…” teased Yeosang. “It’s not a big deal. He will probably come back to Woo soon!” said Mingi. It’s been 2 hours that they were at the aquarium and San hadn’t talked to Wooyoung or any of them. All of his attention was on you. All the members were amazed by how he was clingy with you. That was unexpected. You were sitting at the same table of the group, waiting for your ice cream. San insisted to pay for yours, because he spent a good afternoon with you. He was so nice. “San looks to like you a lot,” said Mingi, smiling next to you. “Oh really?” you blushed, “it’s just because we like aquarium.” “No, he’s not even so clingy with his girlfriend.” Confessed the loudest member. “His girlfriend?” you repeated. Wooyoung gulped, he made a big mistake. “He told me that he was single,” you looked at his friend. San came back at this moment, holding your ice cream with a big smile, “here’s your desert Y/N!” You stood up, “why you told me that you were single? Wooyoung said that you have a girlfriend.” “W-what?” he faced his friend. “I wouldn’t spend the afternoon with you if you’ve told me. I wouldn’t appreciate to see that my boyfriend spent time with another girl.” You said, grabbing your bag. San blocked the way. “We are not even in love. I can’t even considerer her like my girlfriend,” he admitted. “Whatever is your excuse; It was a bad idea to do it.” “Y/N! Does it change something if I tell you that you are actually more important than her?” he asked, shyly. “Not really, you shouldn’t lie about your relationship.” “Maybe that’s too early for that but if I broke up with her maybe we could continue to know each other a bit more?” He hadn’t left your stare. All the boys were “wooing” at the scene in front of them, like little kids. ‘Then maybe… but be sure of that. I don’t want you to regret it 2 days later.” “I’m already sure about it! Sihyeon is more a friend than a girlfriend. Her schedule is full, more than mine and she doesn’t have this craziness… that you have.” He said shyly. You smiled and sat down, hoping that everything would be okay. In front of you, Wooyoung was smiling. Now he was sure that you would treat San well if something happens between his friend and you.

MINGI

Since he was an idol, Mingi was treated well by everyone. Nobody would bully or scold him for a mistake: expected his manager and CEO. But sometime, he missed when people were honest and tell everything they wanted without being scared. Even his own girlfriend was like that. She was always behind him, accepting everything. She hadn’t that strong personality he needed. When the CEO offered them to go in vacations he couldn’t decline. He was the first one ready to leave. “Mingi is usually sleeping till we leave, that’s incredible! Pinch me!” said Seonghwa. “I really need vacations!” he rolled his eyes. “Does Jiyu influenced on your need?” said Yunho. “Kinda,” he replied. “Just broke up with her before it’s too late.” “I did.” They both stared at him. “Wait, when?” “Yesterday.” “What did she say?” Asked Yunho curiously. “I don’t know,” simply replied Mingi. They looked at him weirdly, trying to know a lot more about this story. “I wrote her a letter that I left at her apartment.” A big silence settled in the room. “A letter?” repeated the eldest member. “Yes, a letter. I couldn’t confront her, or she would give me a thousand of excuses. Like what she needs to take care of me or something else…” “She actually cares about you Mingi. You should have told her face to face.” Said Yunho, disappointed by his friend’s behavior. “Okay okay! I will talk to her after our vacations!” “Nice,” said Seonghwa. Mingi growled but immediately thought of his healing time. The next day, they landed in Jeju. The atmosphere was already different of the main city. Mingi couldn’t wait to relax. He was so excited that he accidentally bumped into you. Without looking at you, he apologized like he couldn’t care less. But for you it wasn’t right. So, you just poked his shoulder to let him know of your presence. “Hi?” he said, annoyed. “You could at least apologize properly.” You said, hands on your hips. “He raised a brow,” I apologized.” “You just bowed and ignored me. You could at least ask if I’m okay!” You scoffed. “You look okay.” His behavior was getting on your nerves. “Apologize again and this time look at me.” “Are you crazy?” “Are you a king? Just apologize correctly.” Mingi stared at you curiously. You were the first one confronting him since he debuted. “Do you know who I am?” he asked. “No and I don’t care. Can you apologize so I can go back to my room?” He scoffed, “and if I don’t? you are going to stay here?” “Yes, and you too sweetie,” you sighed. He liked your temper a lot. “Then we are going to stay here!” he said, sitting on the couch behind you. He sent a text at Yunho, saying that he will join them later. “Are you really going to waste your time here?” you asked. “Yes. Why? Are you doubting?” His arrogant personality was pissing you off. “I will stay here then…” you sat next to him. A big silence settled between both of you. “Let’s make this moment a bit more chill. What’s your name?” he asked gently. “It’s ‘Just Apologize so I Can Go Back To My Room’.” “Nice to meet you ‘Just Apologize So I Can Go Back To My Room”’, I’m Mingi.” You puffed, “So, Mingi. What are you waiting to say ‘sorry’? It’s not hard.” He smiled, “to be honest, you are the only person who confronted me since a long time. So, you got all of my attention.” “Are you a prince or something?” you faced him. “No, I’m just an idol and people don’t tell what they think about me.” “Then if it can help you... You are an asshole. You should be nicer and more careful.” You said nicely. “Thank you. It means a lot,” he laughed. “You should ask your girlfriend to be honest with you.” You pointed at his lock screen. “She will be my ex-girlfriend soon, “ he rectified. “Really? Sorry I didn’t mean too-“ you freaked out. “It’s fine, we were not in good terms since a long time.” “Shit happens,” you said, rolling your eyes. “And you?” “I don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, shyly. “Then maybe I can get your number?” “Wow Mingi, you are not playing anymore,” you laughed, trying to hide your blush; “Usually, I’m pretty shy but I guess that you have this effect on me,” he scratched his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I know… they all said that,” you joked. He scoffed, “Sure. Then can I get your number?” “Sure, but text me when you are single. I don’t want a problem with your crazy ex-girlfriend.” You composed your number in his phone. “Deal,” he smiled. He was about to leave but you grabbed his arm. “Where are you going? You didn’t apologize.” “Are you serious?” he asked. “I’m waiting Mingi.” You glanced at the clock. “Gosh… women are crazy.”

WOOYOUNG

The whole group were enjoying their vacation near the beach. They booked a bungalow; leaving the hotel service this time. Even if they were struggling sometimes, that was probably their best trip. Wooyoung proposed the idea. He knew the members would be down for it or he could force them if they declined. They all got on the beach, today, running everywhere like little kids. Hongjoong and Jongho were setting the parasol and the lounge chair. Seonghwa and Yeosang were buying some snacks and drinks for the day. Yunho and Mingi were already on the water, trying to drown each other. And finally, San and Wooyoung were taking a bunch of selfies for Atinys. “This is one is good!” said San. “You are good, I’m looking like a humpa lumpa.” “That’s how you look every day,” said Yeosang, walking next to his friend. Wooyoung gave him a dead stare, while San was laughing out loud. “I need new friends, “he whispered. They joined their hyungs near the lounge chair. “What about take a group selfie and post it for Atinys?” he offered. “Yes, then call these 2 idiots playing the ‘Little Mermaid’ over there.” Wooyoung called but them they couldn’t hear him, too far. “I will get them.” As he was about to reach Mingi and Yunho, when you called him shyly. “Hi…” you bowed politely. ‘Huh? Hi.” “Me and my friend over there are playing volleyball, but there’s one player missing.” He stared at you, wanting to know what you needed. “Can you play with me?” you asked, embarrassed, not daring to look at him. “Oh.” He wanted to decline but his man side came out, you were stunning, and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. His throat went dry and his hand moist, but he managed to say, “yes” even if his voice cracked. “Really? Thank you!” You pulled him by the hand and joined your friends. “Guys! I found someone to play with!” “Hi. I’m Wooyoung.” He introduced shyly. They all greeted him. “So, you are going to be with me and Jeongin!” You explained. “Okay! Let’s go!” He shouted. You giggled; you liked his energy. The game went well. Everyone was having fun and your team was winning. Sometimes, you bumped at Wooyoung accidentally, he always made sure that you were okay. “Let’s stop guys! I’m tired!” Said Jeongin sitting on the sand, exhausted. “Right, we are playing since a long time, “ you giggled. You turned back to Wooyoung. “Thank you so much,” you smiled. “It’s okay. That was funny.” “Let me buy you a drink to show my gratitude.” You laughed. “A good coke will be appreciated.” He followed you at the vending machine. “Normal? Cherry? Or light?” you asked. “Cherry.” “Wow, this man has taste,” you teased him. You held his drink, making sure it was the good one. “Thank you.” “Do you want to sit here a bit?” you offered. “Sure.” You pulled 2 chairs for each of you. “So… what are you doing in life Wooyoung?” “I’m an idol,” he sipped his drink. “Wow. I’m talking to a super star right now!” you acted like a fangirl. He cringed, “I see the real you.” You laughed, “I’m not this type of girl.” “That’s what they said at first, “he winked. “Gross,” you pinched him. “I know it’s unexpected and that I shouldn’t ask that but… would you go on a date with me?” You were clearly surprised. You were stuttering words that none of you could understand. “Sure,” you finally replied. “Cool! Let me give you my phone number and text me later.” “I’m from old school. I would prefer to send you a letter,” you said shyly. “For real?” he asked, surprised. “Of course not,” you laughed, holding your phone so he could give his number. “Don’t forget to text me okay!” he insisted. You were about to reply but Yeosang came and cut you off, “Woo, your girlfriend is calling you for 20 minutes already. Do something before I broke your phone.” You stared at Wooyoung angrily, feeling betrayed and stupid. “Y/N…” You just stood up and left, disgusted. “Well done Yeosang…” sighed the idol. He tried to find you at the beach, but you were nowhere to be found. So, he just gave up. His vacations hadn’t ended well, he was mad and sad. But when he came back to Seoul, he received a text. [“Hi… it’s Y/N. Sadly I can’t get you out of my mind, so I hope you have a good excuse…”] He smiled and explained you the truth about his girlfriend, Eunha. She is an idol too, but she clearly obsessed by her music and every idol who were increasing into the charts. He fell in her trap because she was nice with him. But she was just manipulating and took advantage of his popularity. [“So… I broke up with her when I came back to Seoul.”] [“Then I guess that we can plan our date?”] you texted. [“Tomorrow? At Incheon cafe? 3pm?”] [“See you there weirdo.”] you replied. He was so happy that he could sing and dance all night long.

JONGHO

ATEEZ members were having fun at their hotel, they stayed at for 1 week. During this short period, they could do whatever they want. Jongho jut followed the group for the activities. Honestly, he couldn’t enjoy his vacation because of his girlfriend Ahin. She was nonstop making him feel like a baby. She was 2 years older than him and it wasn’t a big deal at first because it didn’t change anything on the relationship. But since few months, she was dissing him about his age, and he felt ridiculous to be treated like a baby or a brother. He felt uncomfortable to go out with her. She would pat his back when he would finish his meal, In front of the members or his friends. Being the maknae was already a though thing but Akin’s behavior on him was too much. He felt his phone buzzing on his pocket, probably her. He ignored her call and sighed. Seonghwa smirked, “let me guess…Ahin?” “Yes…” replied the maknae. “She shouldn’t be promoting or practicing?” “Probably, but honestly I don’t care,” said Jongho. “You should break up with her. She treats you, like a baby.” “I know that Hyung…” sighed Jongho. “Anyway, let’s get some fun.” They joined the other members at the casino. They heard Mingi yelling because he won 10 dollars. “This boy will never change,” said Jongho. While they were trying a bunch of games, San and Hongjoong spotted an arm-wrestling contest. “Yo! Jongho! You should try!” said San happily. “Hum… I don’t know, it’s been a while since I participated at this!” he hesitated. “Come on, it’s just for fun,” said Wooyoung, drinking his cocktail. Finally, Jongho lined up behind the guy who were actually winning. 2 minutes later, it was finally his turn. All the boys were cheering him, to boost him. “So young boy, your opponent is going to be…” “Me!” you shouted, your small figure getting out of the crowd. Jongho raised a brow, he never played against a girl. You sat in front of him, removing your ring. “Are you ready lady?” you giggled. He smirked, it’s not because you are a girl that I will be gentler.” “Same for me…” you stuck your tongue out. You wrapped your hand around Jongho’s one. “Okay… 3, 2, 1. Go!” At first, Jongho was shock by your strength, he knows that he would win but it was a good match. He noticed the way you were struggling. He found it cute, the way the little vein in your neck popped up, made you sexier. “Jongho! Just beat her!” Said Yeosang. “You know that you can beat me. So, what are you waiting for?” you asked cockily. “It’s funny to see you struggling.” “Are you a psychopath or something?” you asked. “If I was, I would be in a cave with other people right now.” “Okay that is creepy,” you giggled. Hongjoong coughed next to Jongho, “can you finish this and flirt later?” Both of you smiled. Jongho said, “okay sorry young girl.” He instantly pulled your arm on the table. You massaged your wrist while all his teammates were shouting at him. You stood up, “well done lady.” You were about to leave when Jongho grabbed your arm. “What do you want?” “I’m feeling bad to let you lose like that.” He said. “It’s okay, it���s a game.” “Let me pay you a drink at least.” “You shouldn’t offer me that since you have a girlfriend,” you smirked, crossing your arm in your chest. “H-‘ he began. “How I know? Your name was almost everywhere on the Internet, when you announced your relationship.” “How do you know me?” You scoffed, “you are an idol. I have to admit that you are good looking so it’s easy to remember.” You pointed Yeosang, “plus… your friend called you “Jongho”. “You are smart,” he smiled. “And you are taken.” You replied. “I’m actually trying to break up with my girlfriend, who is nonstop babying me whatever I do.” He explained. You grabbed his hand and took the pen on the counter next to you… “Here’s my number, “you wrote on his hands. “Call me when you are single or that you need an opponent for an arm-wrestling contest,” you winked. You were gone before he could manage to realize what happened. 2 week later, you just when back from work. Just when you sat, your phone rang next to you. [“Yes?”] you said coldly. [“Hi, it’s Jongho.”] You smirked happy to see that he hadn’t forgot you. [“So... are you calling me for the arm-wrestling?”] you asked cockily. [“Yes, I know that you want your revenge, but what about go on a date after?”] You smiled, [“How can I refuse this good proposition?”]

Part 1

#ateez #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez x you #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #ateez writing #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez requests #ateez fluff

[rhub4rb]

Home is Where the Heart is

AO3

First Chapter Next Chapter

Here it is! Be prepared for angst and fluff for the next many chapters to come! Without further ado~

-_-_-_-

Running around Gotham and living in abandoned buildings had never really been part of Marinette’s plan. Not that Marinette had much of a plan in the first place, but pretending like she did made her feel slightly better about her situation.

It was her third night in Gotham, trying to find one Alfred Pennyworth.

Master Fu hadn’t known where the former Miraculous holder was, and it had only been because Duusu could sense Alfred slightly that Marinette was even in Gotham in the first place.

She didn’t get to Gotham with a plane like a normal person though, she got there with the help of Kaalki.

It was kind of hard to take a plane somewhere without any type of legal papers.

She had no ID, no passport, no birth certificate.

Marinette had tried different ways to find Alfred, she had even checked to see if he was dead, despite Duusu being able to sense him, just to be safe. It had all been a bust so far, but Marinette wasn’t planning on giving up.

She wasn’t quite sure what she would be doing if she did.

At least she didn’t have any issues with money. Master Fu had left all of his money, which was a surprisingly high amount, for her when he passed away. Marinette didn’t try and bother with sleeping at a hotel though. Most places in Gotham wanted some form of legitimization, and when all she had was money upfront, not many people would be willing to rent her a room.

Her first night in Gotham, Marinette had rented a room in a Motel, and after that, she swiftly made the decision to never do that again. She still got shudders when thinking about it.

It was after a long day of a lot of searching, and a lot of nothing, that Marinette found herself sitting on the roof of a random building at night, looking over the city.

It reminded her of late-night patrols with Chat Noir, resting at the Eiffel tower, teasing and talking to one another.

Marinette hadn’t even registered that she was going to cry until the tears fell down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, despite no one being around to see her cry. It was in the small things, and it made it hard for her to concentrate on her new mission, but Marinette wouldn’t break. Breaking meant to her that she regretted her decision, and Marinette couldn’t regret her decision. She just couldn’t.

Marinette was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps, and she was quick to get on her feet and look for the source of the sound.

There, on the building next to the one Marinette had been sitting on, was one Nightwing, a Gotham vigilante, if Marinette remembered correctly.

He took a step forward, opening his mouth to say something probably, but Marinette never gave him the chance.

She ran.

Nightwing shouted at her to stop, but Marinette didn’t listen. If he caught her, Marinette didn’t know what she would do or say. The risk was too big.

She reached the edge of the roof, and rather than stopping like Nightwing probably expected her to, Marinette jumped.

For one heart-stopping moment, she didn’t touch the ground, until she landed on the other building in a roll. Marinette didn’t look behind her to see if he followed, focusing instead on just getting away.

-

It was a regular patrol, the bat family splitting up to cover as much of Gotham as possible, when Dick spotted a girl sitting at the edge of a roof on a tall building. Her shoulders were shaking, as if she was crying, and his mind immediately went to the thought of the girl jumping off.

Dick took a step forward to stop her. She must have heard him when he started approaching her, because her head snapped up to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, but Dick couldn’t see much more than that. The lower half of her face was covered by a black surgical mask.

Dick was going to talk to her, but before he even got the chance to, she bolted. He yelled at her to stop, only for her to jump off the building. Dick thought for a moment that it was it, that she was going to fall and he wouldn’t be fast enough to save her.

But then she landed on the other side in a roll and just kept running.

Dick stopped at the edge where she had jumped, just watching as her form became smaller and smaller the farther she went.

He touched the comm in his ear, his brothers’ voices going off, asking him what happened.

“I think I just ran into another street kid.”

He couldn’t see her anymore.

“I thought she was going to jump off the roof, but…” Dick shook his head. “I’ll explain more at home.”

Still, the image of her red puffy eyes stuck with him through the rest of the patrol. Her distant look was familiar to him. Grief. Mourning. Dick didn’t like thinking of the implications of what it could mean.

She didn’t look very old either, probably around Damian’s age if Dick had to make a guess.

His mind ran through the possibilities of who she could possibly be, but he knew that this wasn’t his place of expertise. Tim could probably come up with more answers than he could.

The girl must have been trained in some way though. She shouldn’t have been able to make that jump, couldn’t without some form of training. It was too fluid, clearly something she had done before. She had been fast too.

Maybe he should have chased after her…

-

Marinette let out a tired sigh as she slipped inside the abandoned apartment she had been sleeping in.

All the windows were covered and blocked with planks, as were the doors, but Marinette had found a loose plank that she could pull off to get in.

She sat on the cold floor, resting her head against the wall and closing her eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm her hammering heart. She took off her backpack, where the Miraculous box was in, and placed it in her lap.

“That was close.”

Tikki.

Marinette cracked an eye open, looking at her kwami and giving a tired nod.

“We’re still no closer to finding Alfred,” Tikki added, making Marinette sigh tiredly.

“I know Tikki, I… I’ll figure something out, I promise.”

It was quiet for a moment, as Tikki just looked over her chosen.

Bags way too big for a seventeen-year-old were under her eyes, and her hair was a mess from the wind after she had run away. Marinette looked exhausted.

“Don’t worry, Marinette, it’s going to be okay,” Tikki nuzzled her cheek, and Marinette fought hard not to cry again.

“It’s just- it’s so hard.”

Tikki had been Marinette’s rock since the final battle against Hawkmoth. She had been against Marinette’s plan, but she also knew there was nothing she could do to dissuade her chosen from the plan that Marinette had made.

So instead, Tikki supported her chosen through her grieving, not letting her be alone when she was hurting.

Marinette had always put others before herself, and it was painful to see her force herself through this mission. It made Tikki worry.

Would Marinette dedicate her life to the Miraculous and the order? Tikki hoped not.

Marinette didn’t even have a sketchbook with her. She kept saying that it was because she simply didn’t have the time, but Tikki knew better.

Perhaps she could talk Marinette into taking a break tomorrow. Alfred Pennyworth was probably not going anywhere, and if he did, then Duusu would be able to tell.

Tikki just didn’t want to watch her chosen wither away.

“There’s no threat right now, it’s okay.”

Marinette took a few shaky breaths before giving Tikki a watery smile.

“Thank you, Tikki. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for Marinette, you deserve so much more than all of this. After we find Alfred, we’re going to look for a new home.”

The look Tikki gave Marinette left no room for argument, and Marinette found herself agreeing with her Kwami.

She couldn’t continue living the way she was now, staying in abandoned places. It was cold, and Marinette was worried about what she would do once it was winter. She would be going into hibernation mode, and without a proper place to stay, Marinette feared she would freeze to death before she managed to rebuild the order. It just wasn’t that easy when there was no documentation of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

But, she could think about that later. For now, her first priority would be to find Alfred.

-

“What happened out there?” Asked Bruce, looking at his oldest son.

“I don’t really know, if I’m honest,” Dick said, looking at the rest of his family with furrowed brows. “She was crying, I’m sure about that, but…” Dick trailed off, shaking his head.

“You thought she was going to jump?” Bruce asked. He had heard what his son had been saying over the comm when it happened, but he wanted to be sure.

“She did jump, over to the other building,” Dick said, eyes trying to convey what he was saying. “She took a leap of faith with a three-meter distance.”

It was quiet in the Batcave as they all stared at the oldest Robin in disbelief.

“She jumped between the buildings?” Jason asked, just to be sure.

“And all the other buildings after that. She has experience of some kind, but why?”

Dick was mostly confused about the whole thing. He knew that look in her eyes though, for that split second he saw them. She was grieving.

“I think she might be a new street kid,” Dick said, and the others looked at him in confusion.

“Why do you think that?” Tim asked from his seat by the computer, trying to find the girl via security cameras around the city.

“She was crying when I spotted her, it was part of the reason that I thought she was going to jump off in the first place. She must be new to the streets,” Dick said, shrugging. “Doesn’t explain her experience with free-running though.”

Tim let out an annoyed sigh by the computer, before turning around to face the others.

“Either way, I can’t find her on any cameras. Don’t know how that is but…”

It was concerning, and a tense quiet took over the family, as they thought of the possibilities.

“We’ll keep a lookout for her. If you spot her running rooftops, you’ll report and try to approach her cautiously. She’s too much of a mystery for us to not be careful,” Bruce ordered.

It wasn’t rare for the members of the bat family to spot street kids. Honestly, they saw them on a daily basis. But one running across the rooftops with expertise was more concerning, and when they didn’t know if she could actually pose a threat, they needed to be careful.

Dick just felt bad about it. And he was worried.

He was convinced that she was going to jump off. He didn’t know what he would do if he was unable to stop it before it happened.

-_-_-_-

@serenacross200 @valeks-princess @skyel0ve

#Home is where the heart is #why do I always go with the longest possible titles #maribat #marijon #probably didn't expect that did you #unless you read my posts #or part of the discord #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #prepare for the angst in this #joninette #jonette

[jewishicequeen]

The space jail one for anyone

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.”

I tried to think of a fandom I know for sure you're part of, and figured out Avatar's the safest bet. Weither it's Shippy or not you can decide yourself, I didn't write it with one of them in mind. It's during book 2, but without/before the last episode.

°°°

"You've been blasting the walls an HOUR by now. I don't think they're budging."

"Oh, exuse *me* that I'm trying to get us out of here, Mr. Ruspy-Voice-I'm-Not-Gonna-Take-My-Mask-Down!" The waterbender complained. "Like, seriously, you've done *nothing* but sitting there crossed legged and staring at me creepily since you came in. Maybe consider HELPING me?"

"You're doing a pretty good job by yourself." What is he supposed to say? I'm not gonna help you because you'd find out I'm a firebender and move to try and drawn me instead?

Not to mention, *the* firebender.

Yes, he'd really rather stay annoying and unhelping, thank you.

"Damn it!" She blasted the wall once again with a water corrent, so forcefully some ricocheting drops has reached him, all the way to the other side of the room. "Damn it!" She yelled again, slumping on the bench beside him, not bothering to gather up the wet subtence on the floor.

"And to think just this morning I was arguing with Toph that aliens aren't a thing. She's probably having the laugh of her life right now." She mumbled.

"I don't think those are aliens, really." He said, before he could shut his mouth. Ugh, really? The more he talks, the more likely she is to recognize his voice! "More like... angry spirits." He finished awkwardly, trying to avoid her horrifing gaze. He didn't KNOW what she learned in the north pole, but he LEARNED to respect her since then. Somewhere there, she became SCARY.

"Nope. There's NO WAY those are spirits." She said finally, shaking her head. "Spirits do stuff because we BOTHER them. I didn't do anything."

Oh man, she never heard Fire Nation spirit storied, did she? Poor naive water peasent. He sighed. "Whatever." He pulled the mask lower, leaning on the wall next to her. "What's sure, we're not getting out of here by force." He gestured to the puddle on the floor.

"Nope." She stretched, yawning. "Gosh, I wish Sokka was here. He'd get us out."

"Hmm? I thought he was a non-bender." He appriciated regular weapons like every avarge person- heck, his sword skills proved it was often more useful then bending- but he couldn't see how a club will be more useful in this situation then the numbros ice blocked Katara tried to throw at the door earlier.

"Not for force, for his mind. He'd have a good id-" she swirled toward him violantly. "How do you know he's a non-bender?" She asked, dangerously.

Oh shoot.

"You mentioned him earlier." He said hurriedly, his hand reaching to a sword that wasn't there.

"I definitally did not." She raised her hands aggresively, and he was painfully aware to the water surrounding them allowing her some wonderful weapon.

"Sure you did." He said faintly, no where NEAR believable.

She narrowed her eyes, taking him in. His height. His voice. His sheer annoyingness.

She groaned with disgust, taking a step back and looking at him like he's a dead bug on the soles of her shoe. "Zuko?!" She claimed half offended, half furious.

He scrumbled to a stand, raising his hands in surrounder. "Look," he said, defensibly, "We'll gain nothing from fighting eachother now so let's-"

"I can't believe I'm sitting in a space jail with YOU of all people! And talking to you, UGH!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Of course it's you, only a FIREBENDER could be such an insufferable, lazy piece of-"

"Well, you aren't much of a company either!" He snapped, raising his mask up. "With your 'oh dear, we're so stuck, I miss my brother he'd know what to do and also oooooooh if you just help me we'd get out of here in no time-" he knocked on the wall, irritated. "It's METAL, kid. What were you expecting to achive, attacking it with WATER?" He realized too late that he should shut up, knocking her fist aside. Another one was soon to follow, and a wave after wave of cold water, too close and too fast for him to actually manage to bend an effective flame without hurming himself as well.

"You arrugant- selfish- EVIL prince with your iron soldiers and your silk wardrob, thinking you have the privilege to TAKE the world's hope-" she huffed, standing just before him, not letting him enter a word, say that he's given that up, he's not after them anymore and he just want to go back to Uncle's teashop and can she PLEASE not stand so close to him cause that's kinda distracting- "You snaky, filthy, son of a-"

"Well, I don't want to bother you, Kat, but are you gonna get out of there, or not?"

What...?

Both of them turned their heads, to see her brother standing beside the now wide open door, shaking his head. "-because it was kind of a fuss to find you, just so you know, and while getting here with Aang wasn't so hard, we left Toph to guard us in the human world and I really don't want to get back and find out that our supper is gone because she was bored."

Another head popped in, bald with an arrow. One too familiar. "Is she coming? The spirits are getting kinda irritated here- oh, hey Zuko." He waved. "Your uncle said you won't attack us if we help you out which I REALLY hope is true because, you know, you wanna get out of here too. Probably."

Katara let go of him, slowly. "...you *knew* he'd be here?"

"Well, since the spirit who took you two looked pretty much the same, yeah." Sokka said, brightly, waving a piece of paper. "Apparently his uncle DOES recognize my drawings, by the way." He told her, cockinly.

"It looks like a tree that's been run over by a platyphus bear, Sokka."

"I told you they were spirits." Zuko said quietly, stepping stifly out of the room.

"Shut up."

#halfway through i realized #theres no bending in the spirit world #but i didnt feel like changing it so sorry its like that now #zutara #zuko #katara #sokka #aang #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #zutara fic #oneshot #my writing

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (15/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: I’m currently writing the last official chapter of this story. How weird is that? I can’t believe it either...which is probably why it’s taking me forever to figure out the perfect way to end this story. Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for killing her eyes to read all of the words in this story 🥰

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 |

Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

When Emma wakes up, she rolls over on her mattress and buries her face further into her pillow, kicking some of the extra throw pillows off the bed and wondering why the hell she has so many things that look cute but cannot be comfortably slept with.

Seriously.

This is all TJ Maxx’s fault, and she’d like to damn whoever decided to put a store in seven blocks from her apartment. She shouldn’t even go inside, but she does. Every. Single. Time.

(So maybe it’s a little bit her fault too.)

Finally, she finds a spot that’s comfortable, her eyes shutting and her body calming down into the softness of the mattress so that she can fall back asleep when her phone starts blaring, her alarm vibrating across the top of her bedside table, and for a moment, she considers throwing her phone out the window so that she never has to get up from bed.

She’ll get fired from her job. And probably die from bed sores or something else equally as dramatic.

It’s the first thought that has her rolling over and turning the alarm off, the shrill blaring sound going away, and her eyes have to squint at the bright light to recognize that it’s seven in the morning and she does actually have to get up for work right now.

Her job is great, but she doesn’t get weekends off like normal people. And noon games are her actual worst nightmare.

Today is a noon game. She’s also got that dinner with David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, and she’s unnaturally nervous about it as she almost always is when it comes to Ruth.

Like a zombie, she rises from her bed and shuffles into the bathroom before making her way out to the kitchen, adjusting her shorts and the sweatshirt that she’s wearing as she stumbles into the kitchen, the smell of coffee already filling her nostrils.

“Bless you,” she mumbles to Ruby who is sitting at their kitchen table with a mug already in hand before she fixes herself her own cup, not even bothering for it to cool down much more before she takes a large sip. If only caffeine worked right away. That would be the dream. “Why do you already look so put together?”

“I always look put together.”

“Liar.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, and when I woke up, I just kind of got up, I guess. And now I’m sitting here dying inside. At least I don’t look like I’m dying. A family of birds could live in your hair.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. Have you looked at yourself this morning?”

“Yes,” Emma lies, taking another sip of her coffee. She most definitely didn’t when she was in the bathroom, but as long as her tits aren’t showing, she doesn’t really care what she looks like at home. “And I haven’t gotten ready yet. I’ll look nicer for the game.”

“I would hope so. I don’t think that they let reporters not brush their hair and roll out onto the field in sweatshirts. Where’d you get that, by the way? I don’t recognize it.”

And while she may be half asleep and her coffee might not have an instantaneous effect, she knows that she fucked up.

She’s wearing Killian’s Vanderbilt sweatshirt. The one she keeps stealing. She’s had it in her possession for two weeks now, ever since Toronto and the morning after they slept together, and she’s been sleeping in it because it’s comfortable and kind of smells like Killian.

It definitely smells like Killian.

And Ruby can see her wearing it.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, no, no, no.

It’s instinct to cross her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover up the faded words all the while she tries to come up with some kind of excuse. She’s not sure that she’s ready for their friends to know about the relationship yet. A part of her definitely wants to say something, but she and Killian probably need to talk about it first.

But what if it somehow gets out past that?

What if someone besides their friends and family know? It’s too soon. It’s all too soon for that, and she just can’t right now. It’s the middle of the season, so much time left in front of them, and she can’t let anything jeopardize her career.

Emma has no idea what to do, and she’s terrified of everything crumbling beneath her.

This is the happiest she’s ever been in a relationship, and the repercussions…she doesn’t even want to imagine them.

“Uh, um,” she stutters to Ruby, making sure that her face isn’t giving away her lie, “I’m not sure. I must have swiped it from David’s house one day. You know how he’s always got sweatshirts from all over the place.”

Ruby’s eyes squint at her from over her coffee mug, and it takes everything in Emma not to bounce off the balls of her feet. All in all, it was a pretty good lie because David most definitely does have all kinds of sweatshirts from different professional teams and colleges, but this is not David’s sweatshirt.

How could she have been so careless?

Ruby is so damn observant, but there’s no way she can make the connection over a sweatshirt, right?

“I need to steal some stuff from him,” she finally sighs, going back to her coffee. “It looks so much comfier than the things Graham has. I swear, if it’s a scratchy material, he buys it.”

“At least it looks nice on him.”

“This is true, my friend. His clothes do fit him well, but you know I much prefer him without any.”

There’s a knock on the wall that’s connected to Ruby and Graham’s bedroom. “I can hear the two of you, and sweetheart, it’s too early for you to be making sex jokes about me to Emma.”

Emma has to put her coffee mug down on the countertop as she laughs, the giggles stemming from deep in her stomach. Graham is the best and usually goes along for Ruby’s antics, but sometimes it’s too damn funny when he’s asking her to stop talking.

Definitely an opposites attract pair, but they work. Really well, actually. Emma keeps waiting for Graham to tell her that he’s going to propose to Ruby, but it hasn’t happened yet.

She should probably get her own place if it does. How weird is it to live with a married couple? Like, an eight on a scale of ten? Maybe a little less when rent is so high. But definitely at least a five.

“I love you,” Ruby shouts back, knocking on the wall three times.

Graham simply knocks three times in response.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“I know, but I like to think that I bring out the ridiculous in everyone.”

“You do. What time do you want to leave for work?”

Ruby hums as she taps her chin with her perfectly manicured nail. “In an hour and a half?”

“Perfect.”

-/-

Late June in the Bronx is basically a blazing hellfire, and Emma keeps sneaking into the air-conditioned press box every chance she gets only to be sent back outside to do an interview with a player or a coach or even a kid who caught a foul ball. It’s a little ridiculous, but it’s her job so she sucks it up.

At least she’s not wearing a full-blown uniform and exercising like all of the guys are. Most of them are soaked in sweat, even the ones simply sitting in the dugout, and she does not envy them at all.

All she really envies right now are people taking a cold shower.

It’s late June. She doesn’t even want to imagine what it’s going to be like in August or September.

Killian throws another ball, and then there’s a smack of bat against ball and a white and red blur that shoots out into right field only for John Little to catch it, ending the top of the third inning and Killian’s time on the mound today. They’re all leaving for London in five days, and Al has expressly stated that they are not screwing up Killian’s arm for a game where so many people are going to be watching.

She knows that it’s more because they’re playing the Red Sox than anything else, but she doesn’t mind preserving Killian’s arm when they can. His pitches haven’t been averaging quite as fast as they usually are, but she figures it’s probably a tactical change. She’ll have to ask him about that in the locker room later.

The next two hours seem to idle by, nothing too exciting happening, and when the game is over, she moves from her press spot, flashing her ID to the guard in front of the entrance to the tunnels, and makes her way through the hallways she knows like the back of her hand until she’s in the clubhouse with Jeff following right behind her. It’s loud in there, cheers and yelling and celebrations over their win, and it takes her ten minutes before she can even get someone to talk to her, other reporters pretty much taking up everyone’s time as all of the players move into various states of undress.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to us?” Will asks with a cheeky grin as he brushes sweat off of his buzzed hair. “I mean, damn. I get tired of talking to us, and I actually think you may be around more than me.”

She chuckles, unable to help herself. She’s always loved Scarlet’s dry sense of humor, and he’s nearly as easy to talk to as Killian or Robin or even Eric. “To you, most definitely. But I have my favorites on the team that I like.”

“Doc? King? Locksley? Fisher? Jones? Whale? I could go all day.”

“I can’t tell you,” she teases, messing with her microphone in her hand. “You want to answer some questions for me today?”

“As long as it’s not about me getting engaged, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“You’re engaged?” Emma gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s so exciting! How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea since you talk to my girlfriend on Instagram.”

“Technically she’s your fiancée now.”

Will smiles at that a soft little thing that’s so unlike him and yet entirely him, and it makes her smile to herself. Will and Belle are getting married. That’s wonderful, but she did tell him she wasn’t going to ask about any of it, so she doesn’t, sticking to game stats and assessments and asking how he feels about their upcoming series in London. It’s the same with everyone she talks to, and after twenty minutes in there talking and chatting, she’s finished with her work and starts undoing all of the cords attached to her as Jeff turns off his camera and walks ahead of her as they leave the room.

But then there’s a strong grip around her wrist, and she’s being pulled away and down the hallway to what is a storage locker. If she didn’t know that it was Killian tugging her along, she’d assume she was being murdered.

She still could be and boy would that be a plot twist.

“What the hell?” she gasps out on a broken breath as the door closes behind her and all she can see is Killian’s face and shower-damp hair and a shelf full of cleaning supplies that make the entire room smell like bleach. “Why are you pulling me off into storage closets?”

He smiles, this really bright and cheesy thing, before strong hands are cupping her cheeks and soft lips and prickly scruff are brushing against her mouth and her chin in a slow, pleasant burn. This is how it’s been ever since Toronto two weeks ago. They slept together, and it was like this flip switched where they absolutely could not get enough of each other.

Not that she minds.

It’s electric. Honestly and truly. If they had easier access to each other, she knows that it would be even more intense, that they would be staying overnight and moving under the sheets until she couldn’t walk the next day. That actually almost happened last week, her body so sore afterwards, and as amazing as it was, that cannot be a frequent thing.

A girl has got to be able to walk.

She really, really likes Killian, is so close to loving him that it terrifies her, and sometimes she looks into his eyes and swears that if someone told her he hung the stars in the sky, she’d believe them.

This was never how any of this was supposed to go.

“Hi,” he growls, pulling at her upper lip before he pulls back so that their foreheads rest together.

“Hi,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and feeling the softness of his hair. “You played well today.”

“I was okay.”

“But in the second, you – ”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers. “Have I mentioned how much I love that my girlfriend is an expert in my job?”

“Maybe a time or two, but this time it sounds slightly less macho man-ish.”

“That’s my goal.”

“Good.” Her stomach swoops at the smirk on his face, and she really wishes they were back at his apartment instead of in this stupid supply closet. “Why didn’t you tell me Will and Belle got engaged?”

“Because I legitimately didn’t know until right before the game. It apparently leaked or something, and he was all pissed about it. I think Belle posted the ring after it all to kind of beat out tabloids from making money off of them. They’re happy.”

“I would hope so. They’re getting married. People are usually pretty happy for that.”

“Eh, sometimes there’s those people who aren’t actually happy and think a new title and diamond ring will make them happy.”

“True.” Emma leans back against the door, the wood hitting the back of her skull, as she runs her fingers through Killian’s hair. It’s all long and messy again, and she honestly can’t decide which way she likes it best. “I do not want to deal with the crowd on the train getting out of here on the way to David’s.”

“I could drive you,” he offers with a shrug.

“Oh yeah, because that won’t at all be obvious. Also, I think we need to talk.”

“I’ve found that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation when a woman tells me that.”

“Shut up, you ass.” She slaps the back of his head, but all he does is give her another cocky grin. So dumb. So, so dumb. “Okay, so, like, hear me out.”

“I have my listening ears on.”

“Yeah, little pointy ones.”

“Swan.”

“Okay, okay,” she mumbles, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth as she bounces on her toes. “I’m not – I’m not one hundred percent sure on this, especially with what I just found out about Will and Belle, but I think it might be time we told my friends and your family about us. Just a few people, the ones we trust the most, because I’m starting to slip up on where I’ve been or who I’m talking to when they ask. Also, I feel really shitty every time I lie to Ruby or David or Mary Margaret or someone else who is my friend.”

His lips are parted, mouth gaping open, and he’s blinking at her like she’s a crazy person. She might actually be.

“W-what? Are you serious?”

“I’m serious about us thinking about it. I’m still not completely sure on the entire thing. I think, maybe when we get back from London, we can have another conversation about it. I like to think this is going pretty well, and while I don’t want our relationship to escape us or our families, I don’t think we can keep doing this without telling the people we love.”

Killian’s brows furrow, his eyes thin lines beneath them, and his hands finally dip from her cheeks down to her shoulders with his nails digging into her skin over her freckles. “Let’s think on it, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than thrilled that you feel confident and happy in us enough that you want to tell people, but I don’t want to expose you even more to the world. Because in our circles of people, love, it’s going to be a big deal that we’re dating.”

He’s right. She knows that he is. She’s had the same thoughts.

“I know. We’ll figure it out though, right?”

“Absolutely.” Killian squeezes her shoulders once more before dipping his head down and gently slanting his lips over hers in quick succession. “Now, as much fun as I’m having inhaling all of these chemical fumes, I think you have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Emma, love,” he says tenderly, thumbing at the indent in her chin as he smiles that reassuring smile at her, “you’re going to be fine. It’s your family. You love them. I know you do. And you’re going to be reminded of that the moment you get comfortable sitting on David’s couch and relax into dinner.”

Right once more.

“Okay, okay,” she exhales, pulling in Killian for a hug so that she can bury her face in his shoulder and breathe him in instead of the chemical fumes for a moment, “I can do this.”

-/-

Killian was exactly right like she knew he was but didn’t like to admit outside of her head. She was building up the awkwardness, building up the strained relationship with Ruth like she always does, and while it wasn’t the best thing at first, now that she’s sitting crisscrossed on David’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand, she can think of few other places she’d rather be.

This is her family, even when she doesn’t admit it, and for a girl who never really got to have a family until she was too messed up to truly accept one, this is absolutely everything.

Just…everything.

“And then, Grandma,” Leo continues, walking back and forth through the room, “Captain America holds his shield up while the bad guys try to attack him, but he’s too fast for them.”

“This Captain America sounds like a cool guy,” Ruth laughs, very obviously confused about the whole thing. She has not caught onto the Marvel bug, which is pretty much a sin when Leo has been obsessed with Captain America for months. Mary Margaret and David say it’s the longest he’s ever been interested in one thing, and when Emma thinks about it, she believes it. “Do you think you’re going to be as strong as him?”

“Probably not,” Leo shrugs, “but he started off really small like I am so maybe if I’m tall like Dad and not short like Mom.”

“Hey,” Mary Margaret protests, her eyes cutting at her son while Emma and David snicker underneath their breaths, “I am not that short.”

“Mom, I’m ten, and I’m almost taller than you when you’re, like, seventy years old.”

“Leo David Nolan, I am not seventy years old. I’m thirty-nine. Don’t age me like that.”

“What’s wrong with being nearly seventy years old?” Ruth teases, and Mary Margaret’s pale cheeks immediately flush red.

“Nothing, nothing. I – ”

“I’m nearly teasing you, sweetheart,” Ruth sighs before turning her attention to Emma. “I watched your game today. You looked so beautiful, but why are they still showing you eating every time?”

Well, damn, she didn’t know that was still happening, so she takes another sip of her wine and rolls her eyes as she laughs. “I have no idea. Like, it’s a running joke at this point. You can literally google ‘Emma Swan eating’ and all of these videos pop up. Leo told me that they even add songs to them now.”

“They do,” David chuckles. “I showed him those.”

“You’re awful.”

“I actually think I’m pretty awesome.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Look, Grandma,” Leo laughs, taking Mary Margaret’s iPad over to Ruth, “here’s one of the ones with music. It’s so funny!”

“You guys are the worst,” Emma groans as she places her glass down and sinks into the couch. “The absolute worst.”

“You just seem to have a face for funny moments,” Mary Margaret says sympathetically, reaching over to pat her thigh. “It’s because you do a little dance when you’re eating good food, I think.”

That makes her smile. It’s always what Killian is saying about her when he’s teasing her over her eating habits, and that’s when she suddenly remembers that hat that she still hasn’t given to Leo. It’s been sitting in the bag she carries with her to and from games for weeks now, and she keeps forgetting to give it to the kid. He may still like Captain America, but he’s probably moved on to another favorite player.

Quickly, she gets up from the couch and walks to the entryway where she left the bag, shuffling through it until she pulls out the signed hat, and then holds it behind her back, a genuine smile curling on her lips.

“Leo,” she sing-songs, immediately getting his attention as his brown hair falls across his forehead, “if you stop showing Grandma weird videos of me online, I have a surprise for you.”

“Way to bribe my kid,” David whines without much conviction.

“It’s not a bribe. Not technically.”

“What do you have?” Leo gasps, taking the iPad away from Ruth. “What is it? What is it?”

God, to have the enthusiasm of kids. Life would be so much simpler. And happier probably.

She’s pretty happy now anyways.

Slowly, she pulls the hat around from behind her back, and Leo’s brows furrow in confusion. Of course they do. To him, it probably just looks like a random hat since the autograph can’t really be seen.

“A Yankees hat? I have a couple of those already.”

“Leo,” Mary Margaret and David say at the same time.

“It’s fine, guys,” she laughs, stepping a little closer. “Remember when you asked me if I could get you a hat signed by Killian Jones?”

Now Leo’s face lights up, a bright smile practically taking up all of it, and he runs to her and immediately wraps his arms around her waist in a hug so tight that she loses all of the air in her lungs.

“Thank you,” he sighs before releasing her and taking the hat out of her hands, staring down at for a moment only to put it on top of his head. It’s too big for him without being adjusted, but he doesn’t even care.

She feels like the coolest aunt in the world right now.

“You’re the coolest aunt in the world.”

Ah, so confirmation then.

“Killian Jones is the man who asked you out, right?” Ruth questions, and Emma has to bite her tongue as she moves to resume her place back on the couch. She wishes she had more wine, but she’s got to be up early again tomorrow and doesn’t need more to drink. “You’re still talking to him?”

“I mean, only for my job,” she lies. “He’s a nice guy, so he was really happy to sign something for Leo.”

Ruth nods her head, and Emma thinks that it’s the end of the conversation when it’s most definitely not. “So, are you dating anyone, dear? I don’t mean to pry, but I do like to know about your life and you’re much more difficult to get information about than David.”

“That’s because Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret.”

“Why am I feeling so attacked right now?” Mary Margaret laughs.

“Well, you can’t, honey,” David says to his wife. “You are the worst at keeping secrets, and you overshare all the time.”

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

“It’s really not, Marg,” Emma tells her before turning back to Ruth. “I’m not dating anyone right now,” she lies again, more guilt building up in her stomach, but she and Killian are going to talk about it after London when they’re not in a storage closet, “but I’m really happy. Things at work are going well, even if I’m busy, and I love all of my friends and family and how much time I’m getting to spend with them. But if something on the dating front seriously changes, I’ll let you know.”

Ruth winks at her, a smile on her face. “Well, I don’t believe that for a second.”

Emma stays there for the rest of the night, all five of them eating and watching movies with talking in between. Leo insists that Ruth get caught up on anything and everything Captain America, and even though she falls asleep during several of the movies, she does learn a little bit more, making sure to ask all of the right questions. She’s so good with Leo, with everyone really, and it reminds Emma of when she was a terrified fifteen-year-old moving into a new foster home not knowing what was going to be awaiting her.

For someone who was so unloved and never thought she’d find love, living with Ruth Nolan was a shock to her system. She hates that her own walls and issues kept her – keep her – from always accepting that love and genuine kindness, and she hates that she let Neal influence her to not believe that Ruth was her family.

She is.

Most definitely in every way, and this is going to be something that Emma works on. She’s very much determined to do so.

Her life is a good one, and despite how complicated it is sometimes, she deserves to be happy in as many ways as possible.

When the movies are finished and Emma is ready to go home and go to bed, she whispers words of goodbye to everyone, promising to come over again for dinner tomorrow and to bring Ruby and Graham with her since they are always itching for an invitation.

“It’s so good to see you, darling,” Ruth sighs into her hair as they hug goodbye. “I love you.”

Emma nods her head against Ruth’s neck, a smile on her lips. “I love you too.”

#catch me if you can #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan

[boogaloomagoo]

Whiskey Lullaby | Nic & Margot

We laid her next to him beneath the willow While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

This was a bad idea. This was a genuinely foolish, poorly thought out, half-baked idea that was going to get her killed. Why had she even thought this was something she should suggest carrying out in the first place?! Margot was practically pacing a hole into the motel sidewalk, in her human form for the time being but still making certain that she was in a fairly cornered, darkened area. God, she really fucked it up this time, didn't she? Sure, I'll be your bodyguard for a potential clan of werewolves that will come for blood! TOTALLY rational and doable! What the actual fuck!? Granted, she thought she could take on two of them by herself - she had in the past. But more than that, any more than that, or an unanticipated factor being thrown into the mix, and she was utterly screwed. Well, then again, it wasn't as though she would be fighting them off alone. The guy -- Nicodemus, right -- he seemed more than capable of handling himself. If worse came down to it, they could tag-team and potentially come out with few scars. Hopefully. Groaning in her throat, the blonde finally rounded a corner before coming face to face with a door. Yeah, this was his. He'd given her the number earlier. So, all she had to do was... Swallowing thickly, she raised a fist and, after hesitating with it mid-air, rapped on the door three times.

Nicodemus felt good about himself and that should have been the first warning sign: he never felt good about himself. Existence was simply there and he was a blood-meat vessel inside of it, chugging along. But with the bottle of the American Honey that Blanche sent him, he felt decent. He hummed. He decided early on once his mouth started tingling and his fingers felt warm that he should stop sharpening his knives. Safety first, for whatever the fuck that even mattered. Somewhere outside, he knew Margot was wandering about. That went beyond his understanding, her willingness to suddenly protect him at all costs. He didn’t get it and the more he thought about it, the more his brow creased and the humming in his throat cracked. At least she hadn’t called him a hero. He would’ve lost it right then and there. Found another hopeless tree to splinter and shatter until the destruction felt good. For now, with whiskey in him, he could allow that to be what made him feel good. Small allowances. His own humming distracted him from the knocking until he heard the final one. The whiskey was doing its job at blocking things out, it seemed. Grabbing a flannel shirt to throw on from his kaleidoscope box of them, he forego buttoning it as he peered through the eye-hole. Speak of the bear. He unslipped the lock and opened the door wide, a lazy, baby-sized smile on his face. “Evenin’ Gold. Slow night out there?”

The seconds that ticked by following her initial knock seemed to roll by in slow motion, as if time had slowed after the action itself had been carried out. Or perhaps that was how Margot's mind simply perceived it - caution coiling in every taught muscle, anxiety mounting like a shadowy figure looming behind her, fingers digging so tight into her bare upper arms so as to create the indents of very angry, equally anxious little moons in the pale skin. When her ears caught onto the muffled sound of a lock being undone, she attempted to straighten her posture from it's already ramrod state, jutting her chin out slightly and placing both hands on her hips - all in order to present an image of self-assurance and confidence instead of the frightened child muttering to herself about getting in trouble that lay just below the surface. When the door finally revealed her charge, however, her shoulders slumped a bit, brow furrowed lightly in mild confusion. He was... smiling? Okay, that was definitely a shift from the negative shifts of his lips about a week ago. Not that it didn't look nice on him, but -- why? "It... I guess you could, uh, say that..." And what was-- Gold? Something - displeasure, familiarity, a simple passing sensation - something clenched within Margot's gut upon hearing the nickname. Her eyes shifted to glance into what little of his room she could view, and the glint of something caught her eye - a bottle? Or two? Soon enough she was leaning in a bit to give a tentative sniff of the air around him. The scent of whiskey; faint, but unmistakable. That explained just about everything. The blonde could feel the corner of her mouth lift up in a partially amused smirk. "I'm guessing you're having a fairly good night so far?"

The hunter blinked languidly at the bugbear. His mouth felt dry and his tongue traced around his bottom lip as he sent a cursory glance to either side of the door. Nicodemus didn’t particularly care what it might’ve looked like to some shitty voyeur. Didn’t particularly care for much, regardless. But a care was still there somewhere. He returned to look at Margot, back straight and her posture screaming professionalism. All she needed was a badge and uniform, then she’d look ever the part. ‘Do you know how fast you were going?’ A low laugh started in his chest and he fought to keep it down, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. Damn, his cheeks felt warm and he bit his lip to draw the blood somewhere else. He hated that he was one of those blushy drinkers. “I don’t think there’s any wolves in the room,” he said, eyes casting up and to the right as he thought. He placed his hand low on his hip once more. She was smirking at him and dark brows rose when his eyes fell on her again. “Goin’ well so far, yeah. I’m enjoyin’ the fruits of my labor.” With his upper body turned, he gestured to the bottles of Wild Turkey American Honey. God bless Blanche Harlow and her fake ID. “At least I ain’t doin’ it dead ass in the middle of the woods somewhere. Then you’d really have your work cut out for you, huh?” He was talking a lot and not drinking enough, but now he had a guest and his expression brightened by a fraction. Southern hospitality and the need to pour himself another shot kept him locked between her and the doorway. “You allowed to drink on the job, Gold? Plenty for two.”

Blue eyes watched his facial expressions shift with a silent curiosity. Alcohol had such an intriguing effect on people - some could be swayed into a flurry of anger, others drowning in their sorrows the deeper they sank into a bottle. And then there were those whose spirits seemed to lift with each shot, higher and higher until they were floating happily on a cloud that nobody else but themselves could see. Where the hard lines were akin to rusted-gears that had seemed to ground out each furrow of his brow and every frown, there was now a smoothness, an ease with which his features rose and fell. He was definitely in a better mood than the night they met - although, Margot could argue that from their conversation online, he didn't exactly seem to be a person whose dander was always up. But to see him so obviously relaxed, possibly even, dare she say - bordering on a giggly drunk? "Yeah, I definitely would not recommend that. I'd hate to have someone catch a bear hauling a boozy guy back to his hotel room. Not that I'd mind," Or would she? Should she? There was far too much effort tacked onto that particular train of thought, and so Margot decided to focus on his offer instead. She quirked her mouth to the side, glancing over her shoulder as though someone of import might be watching their exchange. "I..." She hesitated for another beat before releasing the grip on her hips, nodding fervently. "Sure. Why not? It is a pretty slow night, after all," She noted with a small, appreciative smile up towards him.

He watched her thoughts cross over her face, a thoughtfulness to it that he wasn’t expecting. He had expected her to leave, go back to whatever post she had picked and leave him by himself. But she hadn’t and she was engaging with him. A lot of people were talking to him a lot more lately and Nicodemus didn’t know how to process it, like a kernel that wouldn’t come out of the garbage disposal. Kept clacking around in his head and confusing him. “Well, cher, you did say you were a big ass bear,” he said with a slow smirk of his own, his words heavy with Cajun drawl. “That sounds like somethin’ a big ass bear wouldn’t have a hard time doin’.” His fingers lightly tapped at the door frame as she considered his offer. Again, he’d expected a no. A quick getaway and a shrug, that was it. But then she was nodding at him and he fought hard to keep his mouth from parting in shock. Oh, she had agreed. What the fuck? Right, alright. He offered, she accepted. A smile shifted his shock away. Sometimes shit didn’t always go the wrong way and while he could barely grasp on that watery concept, droplets still remained on his fingertips. It took him a minute that felt like an hour before he cleared his throat and returned her nod with a slow, deliberate one of his own. He stepped back to the side and gave her space to enter. He wasn’t a particularly messy individual and he was glad that sober Nicodemus had bothered to put the knives and guns away in safe places. Very little in the room said much about him, aside from the snowglobes, whiskey bottles, and the half-read copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. His thumb traced the pulse in his neck. “Help yourself. Honey whiskey alright? Ain’t just askin’ because you’re a...” His voice lowered thoughtfully as he closed the door, a secretive smile tweaking the corners of his lips. “Y’know.”

Oh. Right. She had... actually referred to herself as that in their online conversation. Another effort to prove herself hardy enough to take on the task of being a competent guardian for him. Right. Sometimes, Margot truly did wonder why she chose certain phrases, but in reality most of them were taken from either television or what she'd heard other people around her age utilize. It just seemed like an accurate depiction at the time. "Exactly, totally what I am. So, not out of the realm of possibility at all," Was he all that surprised that she had accepted his offer? Perhaps. It wasn't as though either of them came off as particularly social, which actually worked a bit in her favor. He didn't seem the type to pry, and Margot wasn't fond of those who did. So far, everything was playing out smoothly. Stepping past the threshold into his room, her gaze idly found itself lingering on his frame for a moment, noting the unbuttoned flannel with a bit of familiarity. She herself had a cornucopia of them, varying patterns and makes, due to the functionality and comfort factors. Flannel was a good thing. Next she focused on the interior of the small room, hands once again finding purchase grasped onto her arms in front of her chest - a protective sort of stance, but not exactly defensive. Not at the moment. Oh, wow, had he really just...? A prompt snort flew past her lips, head tilted back to regard him with a quizzical yet amused expression. "I'm more of a berry girl, if we're being honest. But honey'll do just fine," Her own lips curved up of their own accord, arms lowered to hang a bit more loosely; guard slowly lowering. "Or was that a blonde reference? Goldilocks? Barbie? Hell, I could go on all night.”

Nicodemus held his hands up in mock surrender. "Won't catch me sayin' different." Fuck, it felt so strange to invite someone in. The smile and the heat up in his neck, living in his cheeks, were well and truly alive. But there was a cold in him that burned hotter than any fire that liquor could start. Frigid and near-death since before he knew what death meant. Loneliness is a shield, solitude is a weapon. If any of you isn't made of steel or iron, what use is it? Softness served nothing except the dead. It didn't serve him. Yet he clicked the door shut behind him, grabbed one of the plastic hotel cups, and started to pour honey into ice. "Nothin' pretty. In fact, it started lookin' cleaner after I got here." Fill the emptiness with noise. He took a sip and felt better. Did she just snort? Yup, he was feeling good again. Smiled at her as he offered her a clean cup. "Guess we're just gonna have to compromise then, huh?" The flush was there again and he moved away, occupied himself with the small gathering of things on his table. It didn't do well to idle. Too much could happen if he did. At her question, he turned back to look at Margot. "Your hair, uh, it's like gold. Honey gold. Whatever. Y'know what I mean. Don't think they have bugbear Barbie yet. " He shook his head and rubbed at the back of it. Tugged at the back of his flannel shirt. "Y'want ice?"

"Good," Margot fixed with a stern gaze void of any actual seriousness, the upturn of her lips giving that away quite easily. The step that she had taken, both physically and metaphorically, entering a portion of his life by going into his hotel room, was beginning to feel less daunting the more she took in the surroundings. They weren't unfamiliar; she and her father had stayed at the Traveler's when they initially arrived in town. And she could clearly recall not wishing to linger here any longer than they had to. Now, however, in a room that was obviously being more lived in compared to a one-night stay, there was a sort of... coziness, that couldn't be denied. Indeed it looked a lot cleaner than their room, a soft hum of approval at the insinuation. "I don't doubt that. I seriously didn't see one maid the couple nights I stayed here," Pale fingers rose to take the cup from him with a gentle thanks, glancing down into the contents before taking a sip. She couldn't help but shiver, face puckering as the sting rode it's way down her throat. And then he was mentioning her hair again and, in favor of focusing on his last question, she took a step towards him. "Do I know? Never had anyone call it honey gold before," She then tilted her head, allowing the loose waves to cascade a bit with the motion. She wouldn't deny it - Nicodemus intrigued her. All new people did, but based on how they had met, he could definitely be classified as a special case.

“I’ve got a running theory that the place is run by vamps and ghosts,” Nicodemus said, a slight conspiratorial edge to his tone. “I haven’t seen a soul since I got here.” He looked at her curiously. He knew little to nothing about her, but that was changing. She knew French, liked Secret of Nimh for some fucking reason, had her own little shack in the woods, and had stayed in the Traveler’s Rest as well. Whether or not that last one established some sort of camaraderie, he wasn’t sure. Staying at the place felt like passing through a certain veil into a next world. Or that was just the effect the town had on his head, let alone the whiskey. The whiskey that had her face puckering and he let out a little laugh. “Sure as shit ain’t berry, is it?” He wondered what the berry stuff she liked was and if it would be worth trying one day. That thought was short-lived. His brows pinched together as she stepped closer to him and he tipped his head back slightly to look down at her. Did she just shake her hair at him? The image of a bear once towering over him, fur splitting into gold, rooted him in place. A sip of his whiskey followed before he answered, his gaze holding hers. “”Spose you don’t,” he rumbled out with the slightest lift in his shoulders. “Probably haven’t had to play bodyguard for anyone either. Off to one hell of a start in a series of firsts, huh?” He smiled, his teeth making a rare appearance before they were gone just as quick. The hunter held the tip of his tongue between his canines. “Guessin’ that’s a no to the ice.” A step back and the space between them widened as he took a seat at the rickety table he tried to balance out with the bible from the nightstand. “Sure I’ve got some cards around here or somethin’...”

Ghosts were a concept she could readily agree with. They meandered the woods a great portion of the time, and in her bugbear form were not only visible, but could be interacted with as well. Some didn't care to pay Margot any attention, but there were those who would talk for hours, even when she couldn't technically communicate back. But they still remained a good company for the most part. Vampires, however - vamps - Margot couldn't help but seal her lips to contain the mounting laughter rising up her throat. Once she was certain she had a decent grasp on herself, she nodded, albeit a bit reluctant to admit that was the reason for not seeing anyone around. "Could be? Not that the ghosts I've met make it a habit of running motels, but, maybe that's a side-job they don't talk about," Observing Nicodemus, Margot came to the assumption that he likely had a 'running theory' about quite a lot that went on in White Crest. He didn't seem the type to be overly paranoid, maybe a healthy dosage like she herself possessed. Or was she attempting to find similarities that simply weren't there? Either way, she had gotten him to laugh, even if at a bit of her own expense - that was progress. She shook her head, lips smacking as the taste lingering on her tongue and a shiver ran through her frame. "Nope! Not even close... But this is good, too. Put's hair on your chest," Her palm thumped atop her own as if to prove the point, letting out a minor cough. Ah, there was that contemplative look, directed solely on her. She never felt the urge to wither beneath it, like when most men of his stature and demeanor would gaze at her. Then again, it was fairly obvious to her that Nicodemus didn't fit into the category of 'most men' at this juncture. "Not by choice, no. There were times, but... yeah, this is new. I don't regret it, though," She felt the need to tack that last part on quickly, fingers clenched a little tighter around the cup. When he distanced himself, she took a moment to wade through a thickness that felt far too similar to loss, and quickly tipped the remnants of her drink down her throat. Oof, that burned something fierce. Gasping out a rough exhale, she shook her head and followed after him - not sitting, but standing just a few feet across from where he rested. "If not, we could always play Never Have I Ever. I've heard it's a good game when you wanna get to know people," And I'd like to get to know you.

Nicodemus rubbed a hand over his bare jaw before he tapped at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Know many ghosts, huh?” Somewhere in him, beyond the steadily increasing tide of honey liquor, he recalled that bears and ghosts were familiar with each other. But it was a surface-level understanding. It was enough of one to get by with, enough of one to act on whenever the time and the money called for it. In his hotel room, with the air conditioner set to comfortably cool, time and money had little to do with him or Margot. “Don’t recall ever meetin’ one, so I ain’t puttin’ off ghost motel just yet,” he said offhandedly, a slim assured smile present. If he kept running theories, checking numbers, he wouldn’t get lost in thought. Getting lost in his head was a dangerous road to stumble on. It would lead him deeper into territory unknown, territory like not allowing death to come for a bugbear. He wondered what that meant for him. He didn’t believe in fate and nothing believed in him, yet...He looked at her. There it was, getting lost in thought. The hunter looked into his plastic whiskey glass like both an epiphany and an epilogue. It brought him back and he glanced up at her. Up at her because she was still standing. The familiarity of the moment wasn’t lost on him and for a breath of time, he just looked up at her. How the hell did either of them get there? What made him worth protecting and what made her worth saving? Thoughts and considerations so rusted in his head that they ground together like teeth in a restless sleep. And then he smirked. “Not regrettin’ it too much either. Y’know you can sit,” he said with a laugh like the hum of an engine. A machine loosened by the liquor in his gears, in his head. He slid his hand across the table to tap at the open spot across from him. “I won’t bite you or nothin’.” She wasn’t kidding when she said she preferred something smoother like berries. Even then, she still humored the heat he offered and that was a perplexing thought. Never Have I Ever. Reflexively, like blocking a hit, he sat up a touch straighter and loosely folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve never heard of that one,” he admitted but didn’t rebuff. He was curious. Slowly, he nodded. “How does it help you get to know people?”

"A few. Definitely way more here in White Crest," Which was saying something when you took into account that the world was literally teeming with ghosts to those who held the ability to see and interact with them. "They, uh, they're pretty conversational. Which kinda sucks because the most I can do is grunt and nod along to what they're saying," A bemused smile flitted across Margot's lips at the memories of her walks alongside those numerous spirits, and she nursed her bottom lip gently. "I could always shift and see where they hang out. Tell you which spots to avoid or, y'know, where they hide all the soaps and shampoos," A sly wink turned in his direction, peach-toned lips curving into a mischievous smile. She could certainly find plenty of ways to benefit him if she so chose to - the real question was why would she?

Did all of this stem from the fact that he had saved her? It seemed the only plausible explanation, mainly due to the fact that aside from her father and... well, nobody else had. Not in such a dire situation, where most others would have simply turned away and let nature run it's course. And then in a blur of screams and growls and blood and fur and torn flesh - he was there. She was growing uncomfortable with musing on the why's and the how's, though, because it never stopped at face value for her. She could tear away into the depths of people's motives, whether she needed to or not, and the possibilities, the never knowing, haunted her more than she could ever express. So, she wouldn't dwell. Now, she would sip at her whiskey, slide into the seat offered to her, settle back and regard Nicodemus as he simply was in the moment - a person. Though her brows arched in mild surprise at his next assurance. "Well, that's good to know. 'Cause I definitely bite back," She paused, then immediately chuckled, low and hearty, fingers loosely splayed in front of her lips. Whoa, where had that come from? Was it too forward? Fuck it - they were drinking whiskey in his motel room. Fuck verbal caution.

"Okay, so, it's basically a drinking game. One of us says something we've never done before. But if you have done it, you drink. And we go back and forth, yadda yadda, and in the end one or both of us just get entirely shit-faced. Sounds fun, right?" She had leaned forward a bit in her explanation, front row of teeth gleaming as she beamed at him, before motioning to her cup with a small quirk of her brows. "Gonna need a filler, though." Ghosts didn’t make any sense to him. A controversial thought considering what Nicodemus did for a living. People died and that was it. It didn’t pay to believe in anything that came after. He didn’t have anything to tether him to the world. Why Margot would smile about ghosts, he wasn’t sure, but she seemed...happy about it. Not that he was someone that could recognize happiness unless it pressed against the back of his eyes with a knife edge. But she looked happy about it and he got caught up in that thought, wound up tight that he didn’t speak for a long moment. “I don’t know about your bodyguard duties dipping into incorporeal territory, Gold,” he finally said with a raspy laugh. “But if I start feelin’ haunted, I’ll let you know.”

The pad of his thumb rubbed blindly against his fingers as he alternated them. A slow circle before he moved onto the next. The rest of him was motionless, yet some part of him always needed to be in motion. Perhaps that was why he hardly slept. He wouldn’t blame it on anything else, like a sudden resurgence of conscience or deep thought. ’Cause I definitely bite back. The hum in his throat caught and he threw back the rest of his drink to chase down any thought that was surging up. “Jesus fuck,” he coughed out as he adjusted in his sea to close the centermost button of his flannel shirt. He felt like fire, like burning itself. “Went down the wrong pipe, boy howdy.”

The hunter offered Margot a dry smirk, looking between her eyes and her hair. The latter, an odd object of fixation that he felt far more comfortable attributing to the drink in him than anything else. A drink that he needed more of. “Alright, I think I got the gist of it,” he said with a nod as he unscrewed the bottle and topped himself off. The hunter’s eyes focused on her cup as he leaned forward, his fingers on hers for a brief moment as he held her cup and filled it just the same as his. “Guess I’ll start?” He asked as he sat back, lifting his eyes to look at her. “Never have I ever...sang drunk karaoke.”

"Then you should've gotten the silver package. Comes with a guarantee of protection against 'Ghosts and Ghoulies' of all kinds. It's not too late to add it on, either. Just two easy payments of diner turkey clubs," Mmm, did she love those sandwiches. Then again, there wasn't much in the food department that she couldn't rightfully stand. But what surprised her more than the fact that he was willing to pay her in food was how... open, she currently felt. Not 'open' in the sense that Margot would be willing to spill every secret about herself to an... acquaintance? No, it was the much safer kind, the one that would ramble on about being a flannel aficionado and lover of all movies with Madeline Kahn.

Maybe it was the whiskey. The burn had filtered out after her last drink, leaving a pleasant warmth to reside in her limbs and belly and head. That familiar sensation of being grounded yet floating at the same time encompassed her entirely, and every time he would look her way, there was always a trace of a smile playing on her lips. Even when he seemed to choke on his own gulp, and she made a 'Pffft!' sound before covering her mouth with widened eyes. "Oh cripes, are you... yeah, you're fine, you're fiiine," Her momentary worry formed and dissipated in the same blink of an eye, hers finding themselves lingering on the fingers buttoning his shirt before shifting to her cup.

Then he was filling her cup, which apparently meant that his large fingers find purchase around her slim ones. The digits didn't tense, for once, instead focused on the sensation, savoring it for a later memory that might mean something or nothing at all. This time there wasn't a coldness to his retreat, just a tingle along the skin as she raised the cup slightly, already prepped to take a sip. And down it went with his first Never, the corners of her mouth raised high in fond recollection. "It was the summer of 2013," She began after lowering the drink, tongue prodding the corner of her mouth, "My dad and I had literally just... stopped at this bar after our shift - we worked at the same welding factory, then - and it just so happened to be Karaoke night. We were a couple beers in since we lived within walking distance of our place, and, I kinda gave my dad this look... I had to drag him on stage, but, eventually we got up there and belted out Queen. God, I wish I had a camera for it, we. Were. Amazing," Margot chuckled at the memory, before righting herself in the chair and clearing her throat. "Okay, okay. Never have I ever... gotten so drunk I blacked out."

“Oh, now I gotta upgrade? I think you’re startin’ to swindle me here, Gold,” Nicodemus huffed, his shoulders shaking with the quiet laugh. With the liquor burning in him, it felt alright to laugh. It almost felt alright to live. With the fire in him, he wasn’t as much of a rundown cathedral of fallacies. Lost to time, lost to decay. Mossgrown and tired. His skin felt alive under his own fingers, pads tracing lines and faint scars across his palm. “Here I thought you were just wantin’ to put that you donated to charity on your tax forms by bein’ here.“ His laughter continued in spite of his own self-degradation. He was untouchable. He was damn near as open as a church on Sunday, yet one door still remained closed.

He swallowed down the irritation of his throat and chose to numb it with more whiskey. That was how it worked. That was how it always worked, didn’t it? “It ain’t gonna be this that kills me.” He half-assedly raised his plastic glass like a false king. A king of nothing, not even the lone inheritance to the Bossier name, and there was freedom in that. As small as it was, considering the way he willingly bound himself to the life of hunting. The Bossier name meant little, but he took pride in what he did. He looked at her. It wouldn’t be the booze that killed him. Maybe it would be letting someone in. He passed that thought over and leaned in.

Margot was a great storyteller. Far better than he was. She didn’t stumble over her words quite like he did, or answer in minute grunts when someone laid their life out for him. There was a liveliness to the way she spoke that kept him focused entirely on her, his fingers no longer swirling and his heel no longer bouncing. She spoke of her father with such fondness that he almost felt that ugly green creep up. He didn’t know his dad and considering the way he fucked off to nowhere, it didn’t matter. But her story did and he smiled down at the table when she finished, his hand against his neck as he learned. At her next Never he grunted and shrugged, throwing back a quarter of his own drink. “Once. It’s real hard for me to get there, constitution an’ all, but hoo boy, when I got there, I got there,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was headin’ out of New Orleans for the last time and I hit up Bourbon Street. It’s, uh, notorious for its indecency. Anyhow, I just kept drinking at bars until they kicked me out and I just made my way down.” He pantomimed walking down the street with two fingers. “Stopped by every bar. I think it was the second to last where I don’t remember what happened. Woke up in an alley with beads and, uh, someone’s bra across me like a bandolier. Might’ve been two.” His face heated at the memory. It didn’t occur to him to consider how he got there. That he had heavily thought about smothering his mindless grandfather just an hour before he took to the street. “Alright, alright. Think I��m gettin’ the gist. Never have I ever...Never have I ever been awake for two days straight.”

The smile that began inching across the stretch of Margot's lips was soaked in impish glee, tongue poking out to dip across and savor the lingering hint of whiskey. At heart, she yearned to enjoy life - had been brought up to believe that in the most quaint and quiet and simple of environments, lay the most cherished of memories made, and for the making. The closed off exterior lent itself for others to believe the opposite. She was a paranoid shut-in whose only solace was finding out new ways to seal herself off from the world and it's many, many dangers. Her father had inadvertently aided in creating that image, though she knew it was born from the right reasons. They had no other means of protecting themselves where physical altercations weren't concerned. "You don't 'gotta', just a suggestion. I'm looking out for you here, dude.”

The idea of Nicodemus being a charity case struck a sour chord, and her smile faltered slightly, eyes lowering to stare down at her cup. With the air of calm bemusement that settled between them, she idly wondered if this was solely being done out of regard for his safety. Right now, she was enjoying herself, enjoying another's company. That... just didn't happen very often in her life. Not outside of herself and her father.

Obviously he had fallen prey to her next Never, and she watched with eager fascination as he downed his own gulp, awaiting the story behind his reaction. Already she felt the beginnings of a smile curl upon her lips, but she attempted to stave it off for as long as possible. Though she couldn't stop a snort from arising from her, head bowed slightly. "Mm, that's... definitely interesting," She would have asked what size bra it was, but he seemed sufficiently bashful about the entire ordeal, so she wouldn't pry for the time being. Still it was enough for her to snicker lightly. Until his next Never. Her laughter trailed off into silence, and she tilted her cup with loose fingers before raising it to her lips in a long swig. Not pleasant. "Definitely done that before. Not because I wanted to.”

The strangeness of the situation settled over Nicodemus as he watched Margot smile and much like when someone cried around him, the inebriated felt compelled to match it. His large hand wrapped around the small plastic cup as he tapped out a nameless rhythm. No gun in his hand, no knife between his teeth. Somewhere else, he might've felt vulnerable. On edge and looking for an out. But he didn't. He didn't think whiskey was the reason for that. Why he felt comfortable around Margot, he wasn't sure and that uncertainty made his fingers tap. Tap not clench. She didn't have to give a shit that danger was lurking for him around every corner, under every crack. He himself didn't give a shit. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he mumbled, looking down. "Still gettin' used to that shit."

Her demeanor shifted and he frowned at himself. Rude and dismissive, he absolutely could be. A lifetime of no social contact other than his grandparents and the occasional stranger in the front yard with hard eyes had left him ill-prepared for company. A killing machine, yes, but a social butterfly? He was a hornet. To consider being anything else was death.

They were drinking again and he welcomed the burn of distraction. "Interestin' is a word for it, yeah." He rumbled when he laughed, slim crows feet landing at the corners of his eyes. Nose scrunched. The hunter shifted as she downed her next Never. Suddenly, he wasn't interested in the next Never and more interested in the story behind what she didn't say. Her response said enough. "Ain't keen on it either if I'm bein' honest with you, Gold. Don't sleep much these days. This," he paused as he added a little more to his cup. "Is supposed to help. Mostly doesn't, but hey, placebos been around long enough, ain't they?" His tongue prodded his bottom lip as he chewed over the question. "Can I ask what happened?"

Margot could have guessed the exact words before they formed in his throat. It was only fair, considering that they had both divulged the details of their respective Nevers thus far. Of course, she also hadn’t meant for the game to take such a three-sixty where it concerned the mood of said truths. Margot’s lips twitched to the side, becoming a tightly clamped seal. Her hesitance was worn like a flashy outer garment - there was no need to hide it, and with Nic being as perceptive as she believed him to be, it wouldn’t have done any good either way. Her chest felt suddenly far too tight, as if the whiskey had burned too deep, siphoning a portion of air from her lungs. Constricted and in desperate need of release. She exhaled, long and slow through her nose, before forcing a smile onto her features. One that appeared almost as pained as she felt.

“You make a habit out of something, you’re bound to make yourself believe in it. Hell, maybe it actually does work in some weird, twisted way. Enough that you don’t stop,” She wasn’t directly referring to Nic or his issues with alcohol, nor would she ever. Vices were, and should be, to each their own. Her father had them, her mother once, and she certainly held a fair amount. Coping was coping - whether a mechanism or a method.

Talking things out was supposedly a method. A shitty one, far as she was concerned. But, the game was the game. “I was thirteen. And… we had just moved. Again. Maybe the fifth time… Sixth? No, no fifth, I remember. We’d come from Dulvey - it was so fucking humid, and we were in the car, sweating out every ounce of water we’d poured into ourselves. ‘Cause the air condition had stopped working a while back, and we never got the chance to fix it. Not before dad… had his feeling,” A bitterness laced the word, lines reminiscent of a scowl forming along each side of her lips. “See, after… stuff happened, my dad got real paranoid about hunters. Not animal ones - hunters who go after people like me. People who aren’t people, in their eyes. And he swore we were about to be found out by this group of guys he worked with. Said they were asking him too many questions, didn’t like the way they’d look at me when I stopped by to visit him. So, we packed the little we had and just... left. We were living out of a motel at the time, barely stayed longer than four months. We never stayed in one place very long. And dad… God, he was so fucking tired. And I knew how to drive, so I did. Three days, we just drove. Or we’d stop and rest, but when he thought I was asleep, I never was. I couldn’t. ‘Cause all I could think of was ‘The moment I close my eyes, they’ll catch us. The moment I let my guard down, that’s when they’ll come’. So we drove, and I didn’t sleep until we made it to the next state. And even then it felt wrong,”

By the time Margot had finished, her body had sagged, eyes slightly hazy as they stared listlessly at the table below her. She should come up with another Never, a part of her mind echoed. But the other half wondered what the point was to all of it. To any of it. 

Nicodemus watched her without blinking. As warm as the whiskey had made him feel, it seeped out of him fingers first. Not at all unlike the dispassionate cold in which he rounded up still-warm bodies and dropped them off. Not at all unlike cold, crisp dollars in his hand. In his pocket. Supposed he made a habit out of that too. But he didn't believe in it. Didn't believe in anything. He believed in the certainty of an odd number of bullets and the evens that leveled out at the end. His jaw tightened to a painful, sharp angle. He let go of the cup before the plastic started to crack but not before he tipped it back down his throat. His bad habit. He pulled away from the table, receded like a slow wave. A sick sense of humor burned his belly like acid as he listened to her tell her story, tell her fears, tell her tragedy. Hadn't his started the same? The death of a mother. The fear, the uncertainty, the knife's edge of oblivion that whispered a moon song. The kind of song that kept him dancing, blood like ribbons around his wrists. Or chains. When he closed his eyes thirty years ago, sleep evaded him. Sleep was where the demons came. Vulnerability was an open door, for either a hand to hold you or a hand to bite you. Either one could end it all. Bite his own hand and he could suffer alone. Decades old scars patterned his palms, cut off his lifelines before. Disconnected him from the then and the now.

As she finished, near lifeless and colorless, he said nothing. Maybe that was the knife. Maybe that was why he never asked for names. Names meant something. Completed faces and eyes in a way that unnerved him. The hunter exhaled a slow, steady breath through his nose as he finally allowed himself to blink. She looked at the table as he looked at her. His eyes narrowed. His tongue pressed against the sharp point of his teeth until he tasted his own blood and swallowed it. The poor excuse of a fan overhead circled precariously. His eyes slid past her, to the dim clock on the table. To the slip of a moon peeking in through the curtains that never closed right. Warmth crept in at his neck. His hands slid to the table. A lone finger began to tap dully against the wood. The finger just to the right of his trigger finger. She must have had an idea what he was. How he tore a wolf in two with just a silver knife and that damnable Bossier spirit. The one he couldn't seem to exorcise himself of. If you bleed, make the other bleed more. Wordlessly, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and drank it entirely. He screwed the cap back on and set it down. Now well-oiled, Nic cracked open his iron jaw.

"Fear keeps you awake. Sometimes you have to kill it to sleep at night."

His voice was low, devoid of that mirth from before. Why didn't she just tear him in two if she even had the inkling of what he was? She could do it. Her bite was stronger. For as hard as his eyes were, the edges of his face softened. Waned under her presence.

"If I put my head down right now…" he glanced back to look at the misshapen form of a pillow behind him. "What's gonna happen, Margot?"

As easily as the game had begun, it had slowed to a halt. If anyone recognized that all good things came to an end, it was Margot. The moment he had asked, the second the story came to mind, the aching pause before it had finally rose in her throat - all frustration and bitter bile waiting to be expelled, not viciously, not spat; it drooled from her, drained thick and heavy and cloying, unending like the searing road had stretched over those long three days. No matter how many times she had repeated the entirety of events inside of her head, it never seemed to be enough. And like a poison of the stomach, it churned and circled and only grew in acidity until it seemed to eat away at her from the inside out. She had emotionally vomited right in front of a man who she had seen only once before, had seen bare and exposed, had talked to even less. And her belly still ached from the purge.

She didn't watch him, or maybe it was couldn't. More had been said between them than the simple telling of a story; she was certain he had to be aware of that. Nic wasn't stupid. That was both a relief, and a blatant danger. And the longer she sat with him, becoming aware of his mannerisms, his voice, had traced the sharp edge of his jaw when it thrust against skin and was certain it could cut diamond if he wished to do so, the more she began to realize that her forced naivety could not, and would no longer last. He was what he was, what they all were, and she had come to that realization before they sat at a table together in a crappy motel room. It dawned on her the moment he decided not to kill her.

Why did that seem so long ago, now?

Her gaze finally lifted, only to flicker to the bottle as it was hefted into a firm grasp and emptied of its remaining drops. Not unlike the second he drained the life force from that wolf. Swift, and decisive. Yes, that's what he was. There was no more room for a maybe. And she was, and suddenly stood once his question had lingered a few moments into the silence between them. For all the listlessness that had been her form prior, Margot righted herself fully; tall, proud, sharp. Blue gaze locked onto his features as she inhaled, fingers curling towards her palm atop the rickety surface. “I told you,” Exhale; fingers slowly splayed out as she approached him, the edge of the grey cardigan draped around her shoulders brushing against his arm. A small, almost sad smile formed, features softening in… it wasn’t understanding, but acceptance. 

“I’ll protect you,”

#para: nic #para: whiskey lullaby #//aka 'Lora kills Ash many times over'

[ms31x129]

I love your take on iwtb MSR so can you please 🙏 do #27 for the Xfpornbattle. Thanks. Bye

It took a while but here it is. It’s a little angsty. It seems to come naturally from me. lol Sort of a Prequel to ‘Abandoned Son’ @xfpornbattle @today-in-fic @cultureisdarkbeer  @peacenik0 @monikafilefan

# 27 Scully comes home from work IWTB era; kitchen counter passionate sex; vocal Scully

Facets

Mulder stood at the stove, he’d chopped fresh tomatoes, peppers and onions and they were sauteing nicely in a lightly oiled pan. Whole wheat organic lasagna noodles were draped over a pasta drying rack, cooling.  As a single man he’d rarely taken the time for cooking anything intricate or time consuming.

At the time it was just him, why bother? 

Tonight was special it was Friday and Scully would be home for the weekend. Since she started working at Our Lady of Sorrows there were many nights she didn’t come home at all. She’d say she was too tired to drive. I’ll spend the night at my mom’s or the hospital. The next night it was the same excuse. 

Wasn’t that why they’d stopped running? Why they settled here in this unremarkable house, hiding in plain site? 

She’d been tired of driving or riding with no destination in sight. The fake ID’s the Gunman had helped him create had allowed them the freedom to move from place to place. The money he’d invested over the years and secreted away was invaluable as they’d criss-crossed the United States. 

One account would never be used. The one for William - the son he didn’t know how fully he wanted until he’d held him in his arms for the first time. His son, his, being raised by another couple. Another father. Mulder shook his head, Scully didn’t like to talk about him and changed the subject whenever he was mentioned.

It was after one such heated argument that Scully had left. When she came back home she announced she’d enrolled in medical school and planned to specialize in Pediatric Neurosurgery. She’d registered under her own name, used her mother’s address for contact and that was that.

Nothing happened no Police, Military, FBI, CIA - no seeming interest in Dana Katherine Scully - ex partner of Special Agent Fox Mulder. She was welcomed back into the world with open arms.

Maybe Scully was just tired of him.

Mulder sighed and focused on his sauce a few more ingredients and twenty minutes later he had Lasagna baking in the oven. He knew he still had time to wash the dishes he dirtied and the monotonous task would help to expunge the maudlin thoughts still rolling in his head.

Every dish was washed except a knife - in his hand the sun glinted off the blade.

It hadn’t happened in a while. He didn’t expect it. He could hear the whirring, see the shine of the metal serrated blade, coming closer, closer….

How long had he been crouched on the kitchen floor, shaking, skin damp and clammy from a cold sweat he couldn’t tell. The water was still running, Mulder stood his legs like rubber and shut the valve off. The knife laid  in the bottom of the sink and he slammed his eyes shut and gripped the sinks edge until his hands blanched. 

“Mulder?”

The sound of the front door shutting, her bag dropping on the chair, clothing rustling reached him. Mulder could tell she’d taken her shoes off, by the soft scratch of her hosiery on the kitchen floor as she came closer. Focus … focus on Scully and the images will fad.

“Mmm something smells divine. Mulder?” Her fingers grazed his shoulders gentle, light. The sensation overwhelmed him. The hormonal cascade that had flooded his body moments ago, Adrenaline, Estrogen, Testosterone, and Cortisol feeding his fight or flight response - began to change - to arousal.

Focus … focus on Scully and the images will fade.

Muder shuddered and took a deep breath. He needed her.

Now.

Spinning around he grabbed her pulling her flush against him the strength of his hold not light, not gentle. His lips didn’t ask - they took.

Scully whimpered, she could have pushed him away, but she didn’t. Hands wandered beneath his shirt, kneaded his waist, bunching the fabric up and up until her point was made. Yes! He needed it off, one step closer to her skin against his and released her long enough for the shirt to clear his head and go flying across the room.

Scully loved the wild look in his eyes as his hands reached for her blouse and ripped it apart - buttons scattered, plinking against the floor. Scully moaned when they came back together, his erection hard, hot - grinding against her. Plunging his tongue into her mouth the same moment his finger followed the crease of her buttocks reaching his destination. He traced that pink wet flesh teasing then dipped into her tight heat.

“Jesus! Mulder!”

Scully screamed out - she found herself off the ground landing on the kitchen table, her legs spread apart bracketing Mulder’s hips. Licking her lips she wondered what had gotten into him - if the dampness she felt on her underwear was an indication she liked it - very much. Eyes wide open Scully watched as he unzipped his jeans, his erection freed from confinement sprung up and tapped against his stomach.

Had she ever seen him this hard?

Palming that thick and long member he gave himself a slow steady pump, Scully shifted and immediately Mulder gathered both her wrists in one of his hands.

“Don’t move.” Was that a growl? 

“I like this Scully.” His finger traced the lace of her pale blue bra, eyes dipped and the same hand pushed her skirt higher … higher. Skirt bunched at her waist his finger followed the elastic, dipping under, teasing her sex.

“Matching set, Scully? Did you wear this at work?” She squirmed and his hand tightened on her wrists. “Did you?” he asked again this time with a slight gruffness in his tone. The thumb now pressing and circling her labia, the sensation teasing her clit - not enough, not enough.

“Muld…” His name became a screaming moan. His thumb still circled over the fabric of her panties as he plunged his finger inside. Mulder tapped and pressed the pad of his middle finger against the front wall of her passage.

“You didn’t answer my question, Scully.” In a sexual daze Scully couldn’t focus - what was the question - let alone answer. His hand left her throbbing, unfulfilled

“Don’t stop, Mulder!” She moaned with frustration then gasped when he roughly yanked her bra cups down and his hot mouth latched onto first one nipple then the other. Sucking deeply Mulder pulled a portion of her breast into the depth of his mouth and his tongue lapped across her nipples slow then fast.

“Please … please … please.” Scully chanted. His hand had moved back down her body. He raised his head, her breast and nipple leaving his lips with a suction pop. “As much as I love these,” fingers mapped a path along the lace of her panties, gripped and wrenched the fabric away. 

“And you haven’t answered my question…” Mulder pushed his jeans down just a little more and then he was there, yes there. Pressed up against her, his cock riding the saddle of her mons. A slow drag against her needy clit as he folded forward, arching his spine and pulled a breast back into his mouth. 

Continuous whimpers are coming from her mouth. Longing to trace the skin of his back - feel the muscles flexing beneath and unable to with her hands immobile. Before her sight had been blocked she could see the head of his penis trapped between them pointing straight up and glistening. It was so beautiful.

Scully could answer his question with the truth. But is that the right answer? Should she tell him yes I wore this all day under my scrubs? How it made her feel both powerful and feminine all at once? Would he be jealous wondering if any of her colleagues or patients wondered what was hidden beneath?

Or should she tell him she’d purchased the set last week? Hand washed it, waited patiently until it was dry and carefully put it in her her overnight bag? How her mother had kissed her that morning, hinting slyly that she noticed her lacy set wasn’t hanging in the bathroom anymore? 

And to tell Fox she said hello.

That she missed him all week and as the distance grew shorter the more sensitive her nipples became rubbing against the silk cups? How she could feel the dampness on her panties when she turned up the drive? That she could smell her own arousal walking up the steps and onto the porch? 

Mulder has so many facets as a lover - she’s never experienced this one. Did she want his gentle liquifying kisses and caresses? Or did she want the wild, dominant almost animal-like lover he was now? 

The part of her mind that had been trying to process these internal thoughts broke apart like a rock smashing a mirror. A thumb and finger held her clit the rhythm a pinching squeeze then a deep stroke up and down. Mulder had abandoned her breast all his concentration on her throbbing sex. Mulder stopped and locked eyes with her. His penis in his grip again pumping languidly ... she was so close just a little more and the bastard had left her hanging.

“No more Mulder! Now! I want you now! Please...Inside! I want you inside me!”

In concert with his “Yeah … yeah,” Mulder’s dilated and glazed eyes seemed to agree with her request. Yes, Yes - finally the engorged head pressed into her. Oh God! Big! More, more! Was she saying that out loud? She didn’t care as with a quick snap of his hips he borrowed his way deep, deep and she exploded around him, screaming his name over and over.

Scully didn’t consciously realize her arms were free until she felt the table moving with each of his powerful thrusts. The table began to move, the feet scraping the floor and she gripped his upper arms firmly as a 2nd orgasm swallowed her.

“M, m, Mulder?” she gasped out as they moved another few inches. “The table… Mulder...moving?” 

A full driving thrust sent sensation spiraling through her again. Mulder’s head dropped licking a path to her breast around her areola and nibbled on her nipple. He was still hard inside her, she could feel his chest heaving with exertion. Scully hummed in pleasure sliding her hands up over his shoulders. Sweat slickened skin aided in the glide allowing her to feel his muscles flex.

Needing to be more proactive she bent her legs up, the pads of her feet on his hips.  The position shifting the angle of their pelvises and wringing a guttural groan from both of their throats. She wanted his jeans off. Wanted to wrap her legs around him and feel … just feel.

“Your jeans… Mulder… “

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled against her nipple. Pushing with her toes and his little hip shimmy - produced more sensations and moans - those jeans had fallen to the floor in a whooshing puddle. Rising, away from her. She dropped her hands to her own breasts the sensation of her own fingers inadequate in comparison to his or the hot furnace of his mouth - the talented tongue of his - his full lips.

Watching - her eyes wide - his hands trailing down each leg raising first one then the other against his chest her toe pointed up to the ceiling. Kissing, licking and nipping the area right above the little blue bow. “Matching thigh highs too, Scully?” he breathed against the bare skin of her inner knee after stripping the lacy topped hosiery away.

One leg still stretched up he began moving again fast short pumps each one sending vibrations to her still sensitive clit. He pulled her into each inward thrust one hand still on her thigh holding her leg in place the other gripping her hip. It wasn’t often she’d found herself climaxing more than twice, but she was quickly cresting again. She was horizontal and then suddenly vertical as she spasmed a third time.

In one seemingly rehearsed motion Mulder had dropped her leg and with one hand under her ass the other around her waist she recalls hearing, “Hold on, Scully.”

She was lifted up gravity forced her body down, driving Mulder deeper inside her. They both emitted a deep moan and then she was on the kitchen counter. It was like he was was finally unleashed pounding into her deep and fast ready for his own release. Scully searched out his lips, they kissed without finesse. She briefly wondered when he’d kicked off his jeans as her hands grabbed and squeezed the firm muscled globes of his buttocks.

There was something extremely erotic about Mulder being totally naked and her own body almost fully clothed. She liked it. She liked it a lot. She pulled her lips away, seeking his eyes. 

“Come for me, Mulder...Watch me - ohh - come for me!” She moaned out one of her hands now on her body she pinched her own nipple. Mulder’s eyes tracked her hand down her body until it reached between them her fingers a V smoothly caressing her clit and his cock in tandem. It was only a few seconds until she clamped down on him again. Her tight passage kneading his length she screamed out her satisfaction.

“Oh GOD! Yes! Mulder!”

A few more jerky thrusts he buried himself to the hilt and followed her into oblivion, holding himself tight with her, they both felt him bathing her cervix in his own fluids. They clung to one another as their bodies came down from their mutual high. Mulder kissed her gently, cupping her jaw tenderly.

“Scully… I, “ for a moment he wondered if he needed to apologize. The thought flew out of his head when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, nipped it and them soothed the sting with her tongue.

“Mmmm… that was some welcome home.” She kissed him again then nuzzled her cheek against his. “And as much as I would like to stay like this. The lasagna - It is lasagna isn’t it?”

Mulder nodded even as he felt a renewed jolt of pleasure when Scully started nibbling on his earlobe. The minx she knew his earlobes seemed to be connected straight to his cock. Well most of his body parts he admitted, both hazards and pleasures of having a wife as a doctor. 

Not in any legal sense of course. No document could ever give or take away the feeling, the love - for him there could be no other - ever.

She was the keeper of his soul. The wife of his heart.

“Help me down Mulder.” She smiled at him and he reluctantly pulled out of her - still half hard and he lifted her off the counter and onto her feet. She ran one finger over his length. Circled the head with a featherlight touch, a bead of pearly fluid appeared and she caught it on the tip of her finger. Mulder watched as she brought that finger up to her lips and sucked that digit into her mouth.

She was so fucking sexy. There she stood - her top open, breasts with their hard pink nipples exposed, bra cups below them and her skirt still at her waist. Trying to look both innocent and not really succeeding while sucking her finger, tasting him.

Did he groan? 

With a satisfied smile she gave the hem of her skirt a yank - dropping it back into place.  Mulder watched as Scully turned and took unsteady steps making her way to the stairs. “After I clean up and change, you can feed me, Mulder.” She took a few steps up and then leaned over the railing. “Make sure you leave room for dessert  - I’m planning on enjoying mine for hours.”

Hours…?

Mulder stepped back into his jeans, carefully tucking his very interested penis away and grabbed a clean T out of the laundry room. The table was quickly set, lasagna taken out of the oven and garlic bread put in. By the time Scully came back down wearing a soft green sweater and leggings the candles were lit, wine poured and the food was dished out. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Um, yeah do you mind cutting the Garlic Bread.”

“Not at all.” 

In moments warm oozing buttery-garlic slices were set on the table. Scully handed Mulder the knife and sat down. Mulder glanced at the knife in his hand, a quick flash and a faint buzz. He blinked and immediately washed it off under running water, he heard Scully’s voice behind him.

“Everything looks and smells wonderful, Mulder. Thank you. Come sit down before all your hard work gets cold.”

The knife. Scully. Focus on Scully - breathe. There - he’d won the battle against his demons this time. His hand only shook a little when he placed the knife in the strainer...

[pencil-free]

Red Gold - Chapter 3

Genre: Urban Fantasy Subgenre: Mystery Rating: 13+ Warnings: Blood, Violence, Magic Systems that make No Sense

My class schedule seemed normal enough. At the very least it was boring. I thumbed through the emails of Intro to This and Basics of That and waited for my phone’s screen to load the rest of my emails. The weak WiFi signal struggled its way through the thick roof of branches above my actual roof, but at least I was comfy where I waited for the white screen to fill in. My bed had come in earlier today, and before noon I had the frame built and the mattress fitted with brand new sheets. My clothes were put away and a coffee maker joined the fridge in the kitchenette. It felt weird to putter from the bedroom to the kitchenette without the sound of a television duly doling out the morning news while my mom cooked breakfast. It was almost nice, though, once I got over the silence. I didn’t have to answer her too many questions too early in the day. Unfortunately, the quiet left me with little else to hear except for whatever my imagination filled in.

The birds that chirped outside to greet the sun could have been a warning of an approaching stranger. The branches that snapped and swayed against the windows would have just as easily been tossed by a wayward footfall as any stiff breeze. The groan of the door could have been from the old and rusted hinges on an already old frame, or it could have been a knock from a fist with no good intentions. I waited with the phone in my hand, my finger just above the emergency dial button and waited for another sound from the door. I half expected it to creak again with the wind that rattled through the hole still in the roof. The other half waited for an actual knock to come and for my landlord to be on the other side. Ill intentions or not, the hole was really bothering me and I had a few words about it for him. Neither came, though, and I put my phone away when it gave up its struggle, and rinsed my dishes instead. I grabbed my bag and through my phone and keys into it and headed outside. There would be, I hoped, a stronger signal at the school, and it was a better use of my energy to plan my route to campus than to sit inside over thinking an early demise. It was hard not to when the forest looked just as intimidating, if not more, in the morning sunshine. Despite the bright light, the trees did their very best to block it all out, and the dirt path that wound around the cottage stretched towards the main road was hidden by a tight curve. My thoughts picked up the fast tempo again. Anything could be around the corner - a bear, a clumsy hunter, bigfoot. I tightened my hold on my bag. I didn’t have any self-defense items stored in its pockets and it wasn’t heavy enough to swing around for any effective impact, but just the feeling of the rough straps under my palm grounded me enough to not lose my head. I picked up the pace and didn’t stop jogging until my feet touched asphalt. Warmth touched my shoulders as I broke free of the forest and I didn’t realize how hard I was breathing until a car zoomed past and stole the air from my lungs. I took a deep breath in. Everything was fine. Everything was okay. I slowly breathed out. Everything was- “Hey!” “Don’t kill me!” I shrieked. My bag was halfway off my shoulder and turned in front of me to protect my stomach when the shadow running straight for me stopped to put their hands on their hips and lean over to catch their breath. I waited, my bag still in front of me and frozen to the spot as they wiped blue curls from their face and lifted the brownest eyes I had ever seen to meet mine. “Can I have those $10?” they asked and I snapped my gaze over my shoulder. The road behind me was empty and he was, unfortunately, talking to me. “I-I don’t have any money.” My feet were still stuck to the ground but I quickly repositioned by pack onto my shoulder. They pointed to the ground and I flinched. My first day as a normal college kid and I was about to be mugged. “What about the one under your foot?” My…foot? I forced my knee to bend and my eyes widened before they narrowed to match the scowl across my face. A bill was pressed flat to the ground, stuck there by the heel of my shoe, and I peeled it free. I handed it over with a sigh. “You saved me!” they shouted, and I blinked as the money was ripped from my hand. “My car ran out of gas just as I got to the station but I’d forgotten my wallet. I was hoping someone would stop but then I saw you and I hoped-” “That I’d have something to give you,” I finished for him. They nodded, sweaty curls bouncing. My feet now free of the fearful lock on them, I took a step back before the wind could switch direction. “Well, it’s yours, so…” I trailed off as the smile on their face only grew. “Is there anything I can do for you? The gas station is just down the hill if you want a coffee or a candy or something,” they offered, and I shook my head. I had enough of a risk tempting fate just walking out the door. It would be stupid to chance getting roped up in the old Candy From a Stranger Trick. “A ride to the college then? You look like you’re new here. I could give you the grand tour. My name’s Grey.” He stuck a hand out and I thought, if I was going to turn down his every offer, accepting the handshake was the least I could do. “Cameron.” “Nice to meet you, Cam,” he said, I was too thrown by the sudden nickname to realize we were moving. My hand was still in his, and from his grip, it didn’t seem like that would change anytime soon. I was roped in. Was this a kidnapping? Maybe being normal wasn’t as great as I thought it would be. “Let go,” I hissed, and when the tug of my arm didn’t stop him I grit my teeth. “I wish you would-.” “The college is that way.” My hand fell limp to my side as Grey dropped it in favor of opening the door to his car. I blinked. We were already down the hill, the forest an ugly shadow behind me and the campus rising in front like a shiny haven. A cloud rolled across the sun and the reflection of the light against all the windows in the distance disappeared. The car door slammed shut and I jumped back a step. “That’s the professors’ offices,” he said, pointing a finger over the top of his car to the tall building with all the windows. I followed his hand as he turned it to the left and squinted at another, flatter building further behind it. “And those are the dorms. There’s more behind it but they’re hard to see from here. And the actual classrooms are over there.” Several buildings of all shapes and sizes, one of them almost circular, framed a U-shape around a wide lawn on the other side of the offices. The campus was still a distance away, but I was sure there were all kinds of paths that crossed the lawn, and there had to have been even more buildings scattered further beyond the ones we could see from the gas station. Like administrations, where I had to go to get my ID and double check that I was actually listed a student for the year. I could have just wished it to happen but… I shook my head. I wasn’t going to rely on that anymore. It was bound to fail sometime, I told myself, and it would be just my luck if it happened to be now. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride to see it?” “Very sure!” I threw my hands up in front of me, but Grey was already on the other side of the car. It wasn’t enough distance to make me feel safe, but at least I wasn’t in danger of him throwing me into the back seat. His smile didn’t dim. “The coffee then?” He glanced at the station’s small store. His eyes were finally off me. It was my chance. “No thank you!” I shouted, and turned fast on my heel. A car would be faster than my legs, but I hoped I could get enough of a head start to make him second guess a chase. And, to make it even more difficult for him- I ducked into the woods, head down to miss the branches that lined the road. The path slowed me down even more, but after two days of living in the forest, I’d learned not to underestimate the winding paths and gnarled roots. I did my best to navigate through them both as fast as I could, and only stopped when I thought I was a fair distance from the road. I couldn’t hear the sound of a car following me or footsteps awkwardly trudging along a similar path, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time, the eerie silence and stillness of the woods was comforting. I almost felt safe in all its shadows. I hoped I would still the feel same when I got back to the cabin. Wherever that was from here. I sighed. I’d have to double back to find the road and follow it to the path I’d first come up or else I’d end up more lost. I turned around and started to pick my way back until the quiet was broken by the sound of snapping branches. I stilled, one foot above the ground, and the noise came again. Had Grey followed me into the woods? My eyes widened. What if it was a bear? I’d promised myself to be normal, to not use my luck, but I was desperate this time. I opened my mouth just as something big and black rammed into my side.

#my writing #writeblr #red gold wip #urban fantasy #murder mysteries #fiction