#and figured out there are MANY ways I could have made this chair easier

[tj-crochets]

Bad news: the coworker I was covering for was supposed to be back today and wasn’t, so I was once again dealing with three times my usual workload*. He’s supposed to be back tomorrow but then I am covering for a different coworker being gone until like mid-next week Good news: I finally figured out what activity my brain has been craving for the last several days! I got stuck in one of those like “cannot start new task until The Task is completed but I do not know what The Task is” loops. It was cleaning! I cleaned a whole bunch and feel a lot better, so I should be able to actually finish something tomorrow Side note, do y’all ever have your brain assign a task Utmost Priority without being able to figure out what task it is? It’s like craving a food but not knowing which food you’re craving.  *it’s difficult to describe why his work is twice as hard for me to do without saying what industry I work in. He’s not doing twice as much work as I am, it’s just transitioning from one person to another makes everyone he works with extra antsy in a way that makes my job harder?

[baptismbaby]

⚘. ANYTHING

ex!ellie x reader

summary: it’s been years since you broke up with ellie. the last time you saw her was at graduation. you’ve completely moved on and you’re going on dates here and there with different women. but after running into ellie, you’re feeling conflicted as old feelings start resurfacing.

note: a continuation of LADWABAYD, just set many years later. i know i said I didn’t want to add more because i wanted to leave it up to interpretation. buuuut… i felt like adding more. listen to anything by adrianne lenker

warnings: slightly angsty, fingering (r!receiving), thigh riding sorta

You took a sip of your coffee as your date, Sarah, was showing you pictures of her dogs. She kept having to set the phone down to push her short, reddish brown hair out of her face. “Sorry,” she apologized once again. “I’m not used to having it so short.”

You hummed a response and smiled at her. “Don’t be sorry.”

“Do you like it by the way? You haven’t said anything about it.”

“Well, it definitely caught me by surprise but I think it looks nice.”

“Thanks,” she said as her cheeks slowly turned pink. “I remembered on our last date that you said you always liked short hair.”

“Is that why you cut it?” you asked.

“Yeah, is… that okay?”

“I mean, do you like it?”

She shrugged. “It’s different but I do like it, I think.”

“That’s all that matters, then.”

You smiled once again and began to drown her voice out as she picked her phone back up to show you more pictures of her dogs. How strange, you thought, this is only your third date with her and already she’s changing herself for you. You almost felt bad, considering you decided this was the last date you’d go on with her. You already knew you didn’t want to see her again but plans were already made. You would’ve felt crappy calling it off or standing her up. Your plan was to act as disinterested as possible, fake a concerning text from Dina (which was scheduled to be sent any minute now), then tell her tomorrow you’d think it’d be best due to the “circumstances” that you stop seeing her. Sure, it was evil, but you knew you weren’t a match for her. You were certain there was someone else out there who’d love to see the same photos of her dogs and hear about how her ex boyfriend sucked.

Suddenly, your phone dinged, and you fought back a sigh of relief. You looked at your phone and gasped at the stupid meme Dina sent you.

“What is it?” asked Sarah.

“Dina… she… just texted me and um… fuck, I’m so sorry. Sarah, I have to go,” you blurted out as you stood up and yanked your purse from the back of the chair.

“Oh no! Is she okay?”

“I’m not sure, I’m about to go find out.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll text you later to check in on you.”

“Thank you. Sorry, Sarah. Bye!”

You rushed out before she could say anything else, ignoring the sick feeling that settled in your stomach. You were certain that there was an easier way to “break up” with her, but she was too nice. You got in your car and sped off, slowing down once the cafe was out of view. You couldn’t wait to get home, shower, and spend the rest of the day lounging around doing a whole lot of nothing. But first, you wanted to stop by the gas station to get a few snacks.

-

You pulled up to the gas station and hopped out, walking inside and greeting the cashier. As you wandered towards the aisles, a familiar figure caught your eye. You turned to look and saw a girl looking at the drinks. You stood there, watching her as your heart sped up. There was no way it was who you thought it was. You were obviously confusing her for her and it’s really some stranger. She opened one of the fridges and grabbed her favorite drink, and once you caught a glimpse of her tattoo, it was already too late to leave. She had turned around and made eye contact with you. You felt your heart sink as your breathing slowed to a stop. “Ellie,” you whispered.

“H-hey,” she breathed out. She slowly stepped towards you and you did the same until the gap between the two of you was closed. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Me neither.”

Ellie’s eyes traveled down to your lips, then down to your clothes then back up. “You dressed up to go to the gas station?” she joked. You chuckled a little bit and studied her outfit, which was sweatpants and a grey shirt.

“I see you did the same,” you shot back.

“Pft, yeah.”

The both of you stood there silently, awkwardly smiling at each other and waiting for someone to speak up.

“So… how have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. Just… working, you know. How about you, Ellie?”

“Same,” she responded. “Dina told me you work in that building by that um… one restaurant we always used to go to.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You like working there?”

“Mhm. It’s nice, clean, and the pay is good,” you said.

“Great, I’m glad.”

The pain in your chest was almost becoming unbearable. She looked beautiful, even in her worn out clothes, and looking in her eyes made you want to cry. It had been awhile since you’ve felt this familiar pain. In a weird way, you almost missed it. But you’ve forgotten how to keep it inside. You felt tears threaten to spill and fall down your cheeks. You blinked them away and took a deep breath.

“I should let you go,” you mumbled. “It, um, it was really nice seeing you, Ellie.”

“It was nice seeing you too.”

She said goodbye and walked past you. Her scent filled your nose and you shut your eyes, taking it in as you fought hard to not cry. You walked into the aisle and picked up a bag of powdered donuts and headed towards the counter as she walked out. You watched Ellie through the glass window, smiling to yourself when she glanced back at you. She got in her car and drove away.

-

You couldn’t sleep. Ever since you saw Ellie a few days ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about her and it kept you up. You glanced at your phone and sighed. It was two a.m. and you had to go to work at six. You decided you were gonna call off. You needed an extra day to relax and try to rid your thoughts of Ellie. That day, you called Dina sobbing. Dina came over and comforted you and assured you that your pain was valid. She also filled you in on everything going on in Ellie’s life. She was working just outside of town and spent her days off writing songs or visiting Joel at his farm. She told you that Ellie had texted her about you two running into each other, and that she decided to spend a few days at Joel’s to clear her head. “She’s grown a lot,” Dina’s words rang through your head. “If you want to contact her, it’s okay.”

You typed in her number, shocked that you still had it memorized, and sent a quick text.

Hey, is this Ellie?

You set your phone down with a sigh. You almost felt stupid for texting her, especially since it was almost the middle of the night. Now you for sure won’t get any sleep because you were too nervous waiting for a response and she definitely had to be asleep already. You shut your eyes anyway, trying to force yourself to get drowsy when suddenly your phone dinged. You reached over and picked it up, your heart fluttering when you saw the text.

Hey you

I’m sorry for texting you so late…

Don’t be sorry, you know I don’t mind

I know I know

So what’s up?

Honestly nothing

I really just wanted to talk to you

Me too:)

You smiled. As you were typing a response, your phone rang. It was Ellie. You hesitated before answering and slowly brought it to your ear. “Hello,” you said, although it sounded more like a question.

“Sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Once again you could feel your heart fluttering as your cheeks burned. “Don’t be sorry, Ellie. I… wanted to hear your voice too.”

Ellie breathed out in relief and chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”

“No. I’m guessing you can’t either?”

“Nope, I’m wide awake.”

You giggled and rolled over on your side, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the pillow next to you.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” said Ellie in a low voice.

“Me neither.”

“Ever since I saw you, I’ve been thinking about everything that happened in the end.”

“Ellie,” you almost whined. “Let’s not… talk about that. Over the phone, I mean.”

“Yeah, you’re right… we should talk about it in person,” agreed Ellie.

You bit your lip as you thought about what to say. Would it be too weird to invite her over now, in the middle of the night? Or would that come off as desperate? Before you could say anything, Ellie spoke up. “If you want, I could come over so we can talk about it.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’ll text you my address.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit, then. Bye.”

“Bye, Ellie.”

After she hung up the phone, you sent her your address.

You’re pretty close. I’m at Joel’s rn and I have to put clothes on. Be there in about 20 mins

You quickly hopped out of bed and opened up your drawer, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and shoving them on. You headed into your bathroom and turned the light on. You brushed your fingers through your hair until it looked decent. You scoffed at the sight of bags under your eyes. Oh well, you thought. It’s not like Ellie would care. You left the bathroom and checked yourself out in the full body mirror, pulling down on your tank top a bit while you turned slightly to make sure there were no stains on your pajama pants. You walked out your room and sat down on the couch, your eyes watching the door intently. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You didn’t think you and Ellie would talk about the past so soon, let alone hang out. You hoped you could stay strong and not embarrass yourself in front of her. You really were over it and you didn’t know what else could be said about everything. But deep down you knew you never got over her. You haven’t been in a relationship since, you always found an excuse to break it off with a girl you were seeing, and you definitely had a type. They all had at least one similar feature of Ellie, whether it was freckles, their hair length, eyes, etc. You wondered if she did the same as you.

A knock at the door made you flinch and ripped you out of your thoughts. You got up and unlocked the door, slowly opening it to see Ellie in an old band shirt and some jeans.

“Ellie,” you greeted. “Come in.”

“Hey, sorry if I took too long. Couldn’t find a clean shirt. Borrowed one of Joel’s.”

“It’s fine, you aren’t late. How’s Joel doing?”

You shut the door behind Ellie, following her as she made her way to the couch. She didn’t sit and stood there, looking around at all the decorations you had up. “He’s good. All he does is tend to his farm and watch westerns all day,” she said with a chuckle.

“Ah, so the same thing he’s been doing for the past ten years?”

“Pretty much.”

Ellie sat down on the couch and you did the same, sitting on the other end. “And how are you?”

“The same, how about you?”

“Also the same,” you replied.

“Good.”

You could hear your heart beating in your chest. For a second, you felt embarrassed as if Ellie could hear it too.

“Ever since I saw you the other day, I’ve actually been… I don’t know. I feel strange.”

“How so?” you asked.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, about… us,” she shook her head and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “About how I fucked up,” she muttered.

“Yeah…”

“I never took accountability for the shit I did. I was an idiot for cheating on you with Lila.”

“Ellie… it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t fair to you and I never got to truly say how sorry I was. I want us to have a fresh start if we’re back in each other’s lives again.”

“I appreciate it, Ellie. And I forgive you. Hell, I forgave you years ago.”

“I never forgave myself,” she whispered. “You’ve been on my mind since the day you left my dorm for the last time.”

You furrowed your brows and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back into the cushions as you focused on Ellie and her words.

“I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel sorry but… just to fill you in on what has happened since everything. I hated myself for a long time. I don’t think I stopped hating myself until a year after graduation. Even then, I didn’t feel worthy enough of anything. I’ve tried going on a few dates but it wasn’t the same. So I gave up on all that. I chose to work on myself instead. Sure, there were a few times I was interested in seeing a girl but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t…” she trailed off, her eyes wandering away from you and down to the floor.

“I’ve tried going on dates too,” you mumbled. “Actually, the other day… I was on one and made Dina text me so I could get out of it. I don’t go on many dates but I do it every time. Whether I’m interested or not, I come up with an excuse to not be with them. I know it’s horrible. I just can’t do it.”

“Is it because of me?” questioned Ellie. You sent her a sad smile and shrugged.

“It was at first. I mean, it still is but for different reasons. They aren’t you.”

“Remember when I told you that I would never stop trying to make things right?”

You nodded.

“I want you to know, I only stopped because I… love you and knew you didn’t want me anymore. I stopped out of respect for you.”

You were silent. You allowed Ellie’s confession to hang in the air and it felt as if it was surrounding you, ready to swallow you whole. You took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. You cleared your throat in hopes the tightness would go away but it didn't. “I've always wanted you, Ellie,” you uttered, your voice cracking when you said her name. “Even when you cheated on me. All I ever wanted was you. It wasn't just the act of you cheating that made me leave, but also I believed I wasn't enough and… I loved you and respected you enough to let you go. Find someone else who could fill everything I left empty.”

You looked up at Ellie as a tear slid down her cheek. She sniffled and brushed it away quickly, sitting up straight and scooting closer to you. You did the same until your knee barely brushed hers.

“You were always enough for me,” said Ellie. “I was a fucking idiot. I'm sorry I made you feel like you weren't enough. You always were enough.”

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I… wasn't expecting the conversation to go like this.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't, Ellie. It's fine. We needed this.”

You raised your head to meet her gaze and immediately felt calm. She looked so beautiful with her tear filled eyes and her pouty lips. How was it that so much time had passed and yet you still love her as much as you did before, despite everything? You believed her apology, you believed Dina’s words that vouched for her, and you started to believe one day, the two of you could try again. It was too soon. She was a stranger to you now and you were a stranger to her. And yet, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward just to steal a kiss.

Her lips met yours finally, the two of you breathing in harshly at the contact. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, until she placed her hand on your cheek. You deepened the kiss by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her closer. Without thinking, you lifted yourself up and over her thighs to sit in her lap. Her hands found themselves at your waist, gripping tightly as if Ellie was scared you'd pull away and never kiss her again. She picked you up and began to walk blindly until your back touched the wall. She pulled away for a brief second to pull your tank top over your head. You lifted your arms to help her remove it and watched her throw it behind her. Ellie let out a soft moan at the sight of your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. Her hands cupped your tits as her lips peppered kisses down your neck. You let out a whine, running your fingers through her hair and tugging the strands. She staggered away from the wall and glanced through the nearest door frame to make sure it was your room. As soon as she saw your bed, she carried you inside and laid you down on the mattress. You stared up at her in awe as she yanked her shirt up over her head, unbuckling her jeans and pulling it down along with her panties. You quickly shoved your pajama pants off and threw it to the side. She crawled on top of you, stopping every few seconds to plant kisses along your exposed skin. Your breath grew shallow as her fingers slowly crept up towards your pussy. She used her pointer finger to gently apply pressure to your clit, grinning when your body jolted from the feeling.

“I missed this, baby,” she cooed. “Did you miss me?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

Ellie finally stuck a finger inside you. You moaned out her name and gripped the sheets. “E-Ellie,” you whined. “Fuck, I missed you!”

“I know, sweetheart.”

She replaced her finger with her middle and third and brought herself up so she was hovering over you face to face. Ellie kept a steady, painfully slow pace, carefully watching your face twist in pleasure. She didn't want to miss anything, afraid this would be the last time she got to make you feel good, and wanted to make it last as long as possible. She kissed you again, this time slipping her tongue between your lips and circling it around yours. As the kiss grew more passionate, the speed of her fingers increased. Your moans filled her mouth as her thumb brushed against your clit, her fingers curling up inside you and hitting your g spot. It had been too long since you had sex with her and since you did anything to yourself. You could already feel pressure building up in your lower stomach. You pulled away from the kiss and began speaking frantically.

“Wait, wait, wait, Ellie, I-I’m close and I-I don't wanna cum yet,” you begged. Ellie removed her fingers from inside you and brought them to her lips, sucking them off and moaning at the taste of you.

“My sweet girl,” Ellie whispered.

“Ellie…”

Ellie placed a knee against your cunt and used her hand to guide your hips up and down. “You like that, baby? Think you'll last longer with this?”

“Mhm,” you responded.

“Good… just like that, honey. Don't stop.”

She reached down to lift your leg up so she could grind herself onto your thigh. She breathed in harshly at the contact, letting out a soft groan and squeezing her eyes shut. “F-Fuck,” she hissed.

Within minutes, both of you had sped up the movement of your hips. The room was filled with obscene noises spilling out from both you and Ellie’s lips. You tried your best to remain eye contact with Ellie, the intimate act only making you get wetter.

“E-Ellie,” you moaned. “I… I love you, y’know th-that?”

“I know,” she breathed. “I love you t-too.”

Ellie’s breath became jagged as she grew closer. You could feel once again in the pit of your stomach that you were close too. The movement of your hips became sloppy from desperation. All you could focus on was Ellie and your need to cum. Your whining had raised in volume as the feeling got stronger. Within seconds, both you and Ellie’s bodies began to convulse as an orgasm took both of you over. Ellie buried her face in your neck, your nails digging into her shoulders. Once it was over, Ellie collapsed onto you and rested her head onto your chest.

You fought to catch your breath as you stared off into space, shocked that this had happened. You never thought you'd see her or fuck her again. But for the first time in years, you genuinely felt happy and whole. You knew you couldn't give Ellie up but you also knew the two of you had to refrain from doing this again. You had to get to know her all over again, as did Ellie with you. You were alright with that, partially scared, but it was worth it. But that was a conversation for another time. Anything, as long as it meant having Ellie back in your life.

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

The Rival

Summary: Alastor sought to possess one of the only does in Pentegram City for the rut season, however, you wanted a mate, not a master. But what happens when a handsome new buck shows up one day and tries to capture your attention away from the Radio Demon. Who will you choose?

(Just some practice at writing drama but I hope you enjoy)

You weren't stupid. You knew that Alastor would call upon you only because he needed a warm body to ride out his rut and not out of any naive sense of romance. Every few months you'd receive an unsurprising visit from the Radio Demon casually resting in your hotel room before whisking you off for a vigorous week of reliving both of your heats. His earthy pheromones having triggered your own. It was usually obvious when Alastor would arrive because you could always feel fiery red eyes on your form and often noticed a dark presence shifting around in your peripheral vision. Of course, this would have freaked you out but it was also nice that you didn't have to go out of your way to avoid the numerous male cervid demons suffering through their own rut cycles of the season. Having never seen another female deer demon, you realized you were probably in for a bad time if one of those desperate bastards got a hold of you. So you didn't mind a little extra security as you went about your business. 

The very moment you walked through your door, an almost overwhelming scent of a warm, mossy, musk invaded your senses as waves of static washed over you. "Ah, there's my pretty doe. How was your day out my love?", Alastor greeted you in his typical cheery voice that made your heart flutter, but you knew the sweet-sounding pet name was only a product of his possessive manipulation. He knew very well how you reacted to his charm and he had no qualms about using it to gain your sexual compliance. "Oh, you know, quiet as Hell can be." You sat across from him on an armchair and smirked at the bittersweet domestic feeling as his shadow appeared next to you with a tea cup and a small bowl of sugar cubes. You scratched its shadowy scalp with gratitude as you took the offered drink, "And thank you for the company lately", you cooed to its delighted purrs. 

Alastor cleared his throat to get both of your attention as he began, "Yes, well”, he suddenly appeared in front of your chair and bent down to your eye level, "your protection would prove much easier if you would simply make a deal with me so that all of those pathetic weaklings would know who you belonged to." You didn't miss how his voice deepened into a static-filled threat but that didn't stop you from brushing away his outstretched hand as you stood up to put away your things. Of course, Alastor had been trying to get you to agree to a deal since the beginning of your...relationship(?), however, you had seen and known many people who deeply regretted making a deal with him. You knew he only wanted the same thing as every other cervid guy, regardless of how you felt about him. He didn't want a mate to love and protect. He wanted to possess the rare commodity of a breedable doe for himself.

 "I don't belong to anyone, Alastor.", you snapped, "You already give me protection from other males in exchange for my working you through your heat." He let out a dismissive chuckle when you shimmied your ample chest, but you saw the slight blush creeping across his face at the visions likely dancing through his mind. 

God, sometimes you wished there were more women deer around so that you could just live your fucking afterlife in peace. (But then, what if you'd never met Alastor and he had found another to see his ruts through?)

***

As you both headed downstairs to dinner, Alastor more so following you as was his habit during the season, you could hear Charlie loudly speaking to someone.

"Great! Well let's head o-", she was cut off by your entrance into the lobby which revealed a large figure sporting an impressive set of thick antlers. You could feel Alastor stiffen and tighten his hold on your shoulders. The scent of the visitor told you why. It was definitely another male deer, also nearing his heat like Alastor, and it was obvious that he must've followed your feminine smell here. Charlie began to walk towards you with a large smile, "Oh, hey there! I was actually just about to show our newest guest", she gestured in the stranger’s direction, "a tour and I'd love you to join us as other deer demons." She had a hopeful bounce in her step, "This is James.", who nodded and began to look you up and down with intensity. 

"Yes, I'm very interested in what your hotel may offer, Ms. Charlie." He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of worn jeans, but you could tell that he was absolutely jacked. His forearms alone looked like freaking tree trunks and he was easily taller than even Alastor with an equally enticing scent that made your stomach flip. James had begun to move further in your direction, however, a loud growl ripped through the lobby as ear-splitting static made everyone turn to its source behind you. 

"I'm afraid we've no vacancies at the moment.", he snarled, "Allow me to escort you towards the exit." Alastor had already begun to grow into his demonic form and used his shadow tendrils to violently eject the large buck onto the front lawn before anyone could make a sound. 

Charlie quickly darted after the two males, followed by you, only to be confronted by an impossibly odd sight. James stood tall without a scratch or sign of fear on him in the face of a giant, demonic Alastor. He even looked like he was all too happy to clap back with a strong, demonic aura of his own. However, the princess halted Alastor's intended strike with a burst of flames and a disappointed comment at his attitude towards a potential guest. And immediately apologized to James as she whirled around him checking for injuries, but none were to be found. 

Did Alastor take it easy on this guy? Why? He's always simply killed potential rival suitors, this one in his territory no less, so, why was he still alive?!

Charlie returned to the lobby, leading James by his massive arm, and proceeded to ask, a very pissed-looking, Alastor to fix the now broken doors as she led the two of you on a tour of the hotel. You could feel both James' smile and Alastor's silent rage boring into the back of your head as you walked with a clueless Charlie.

***

The intense air of murderous intent in between the two male cervids had only gotten worse over the next week after freaking deer Paul Bunion was placed in a room next to yours, which was across from Alastor’s. Charlie thought you'd be able to better connect another deer demon and maybe help him if needed, though she had no idea about the conflict she had placed in your lap.

James commented, during a group share circle, that he assumed that he was a Canadian reindeer, who was relatively new to Hell. He also made it clear that he simply didn't know, or care, who the Radio Demon was. The two constantly locked horns, both physically and metaphorically as the countdown to the rutting season was running out. You also found out through Angel Dust that Alastor was absolutely forbidden from using his power to injure a resident of the hotel. 

Which you assumed was why he didn't simply wipe James off the concrete outside like a pancake off a hot griddle. 

However, this didn't stop Alastor from staking his claim on you in other ways. For instance, he always had to have a hand on you somewhere. On your knee during group talks on the lobby couch, on your shoulder while you ate a meal, and on your lower back when he walked you from room to room. James didn’t seem to give too much of a fuck as he frequently kept at your other side and proceeded to continuously compliment you, give you small gifts, or make a particularly chapped joke that you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at. Of course, that usually resulted in being pulled closer into Alastor’s side away from the other male as he snarled and rubbed his face into your hair to try and mark you with his scent.  

You couldn’t lie. You very much enjoyed the attention of the two strong males as they vied for your affection and mating rights.

One early morning, while Alastor was forced to leave your side, in order to attend an overlord meeting, James found you in your rose garden behind the hotel and offered to help you plant your new buds. After a few minutes of digging and placing the rose roots, he spoke up, “Can I ask if youse and Alastor are an item?”. He smiled at your blushing expression and continued, “Not to offend ma’am, but I’d like to show you what a true buck is.”

Your eye twitched a bit at the insult towards Alastor, but you remained calm, “It's… complicated between us.”. James simply leaned in and smiled encouragingly, “Alastor isn’t exactly into relationships, but he takes care of me during the rut season.” 

“What about the rest of the time?”, he asked while bringing his face practically an inch from yours, “Does he make you feel like the forest queen you are? Or does he simply forget you until he needs something from you?” His steel eyes brightened in victory at your affirming face toward his questions, “I-I…um…”, you tried to defend your reasons for continuously coming back to Alastor again and again even though he couldn't care less about you during the rest of the year. 

He held your hand tenderly in one of his, while also cupping your cheek with the other and whispered, “Let me give you what you deserve, sweetheart. Love not possession. Tenderness, not indifference.” You were so absolutely enthralled by his deep voice and his potent musk that you could only stare blankly as he finally leaned in and softly pressed his lips against your own.

***

Hey, Again this is just some drama and relationship writing practice for a beginner class I'm taking.

-SSPR

[the-modern-typewriter]

A villain who doesn't want to harm the hero, is trying to take them down as gently as possible and thinks the hero is the one being crazy about this, while the hero is desperately fighting to protect the world.

Bonus points if the villain is the hero's big sibling or similar figure.

"Father wanted to put you in an institution," their sibling said. "There was no way I was going to allow that." They carded their fingers through the hero's hair, soothing, like they were still five years old and waking up from a bad dream. "Those places are awful. They'd hurt you."

"I can't move."

"It's okay. You're okay."

"The - the tea. You." The realisation of it choked off in the hero's throat. Sharp. Catching. Betrayal.

"I told father I'd handle it," their sibling said, almost absently.

"Handle me."

"Yes." Their sibling ducked to gather up the jagged shards of the fallen mug, depositing them on the coffee table. They met the hero's eyes. "Handle you."

The hero glared. They willed their noodled limbs to move, but all they got for their efforts was nearly crumpling to the floor again. Their sibling caught them, steadied them, pushed them back into the chair. The hero's heart thudded wildly beneath their palms.

"He wasn't having it though," their sibling continued. "He told me that you needed to be corrected, by any means necessary. He told me that it was just the place for a crazy person like you. That you'd bring shame on the family." They grimaced. "You know father."

The hero did, unfortunately, know their father.

They also knew their sibling though. They knew they were drugged up in their own living room, not being wrestled into a straight-jacket somewhere for some non-consensual therapy sessions.

"What did you do to him?" it came out raspy.

Their sibling smiled, small and grim. "He should have known better. Just like you should have known better, but you always were a little idiot, so no shockers there."

"...what are you going to do to me?" That was, perhaps, the better question. Their mind still felt sharp, after all, even if nothing in their body wanted to cooperate with them.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"You hurt father."

"Father was a jackass. You're just stupid."

"I'm trying to make the world better!"

"Yeah," their sibling said. "Stupid."

"It's not stupid!"

"I'm not going to debate this with you."

"Just drug my tea!?"

"Eh, that was for your own good. For all his many sins, father wasn't totally wrong. You do need help. A friendly intervention."

"They'll come for me. My friends will come for me."

Their sibling shrugged. "I have no such reservations hurting them."

The hero swallowed. Their mouth still felt dry, sticky and cloyingly sweet. They searched their sibling's face for any sign of a lie. They found none.

"You know what father and his friends are doing is wrong," the hero said after a beat; maybe just frantic to see some glimmer of recognition of that fact.

Their sibling shrugged again, easy. "Sure."

"You could help us fight them. You could come with me. You could...keep me safe. That's what you want, right? To keep me safe."

"Your friends aren't going to kill you. You're perfectly safe like this."

"But what father's friends are doing - don't you - you have to care."

Their sibling raised an eyebrow.

The hero wanted to snarl. As ever, it seemed, their sibling did not have to care about anyone or anything. Who cared about the world if going along with monstrosity was easier?!

"Don't you care that I care?"

"You care about everything," their sibling rolled their eyes. "You held a funeral for the fish."

"He was my pet!"

"He was a fish."

"This is nothing like the fish!"

Their sibling straightened up with a sigh, looking down on them, hands on hips. "I've made my decision."

"Fuck you."

"I don't expect you to be happy about it, but you're gonna deal with it. You're underage. That makes you my responsibility. I'll let you go when this all blows over."

"You mean when father's friends finish wrecking the world?"

"Don't be so overdramatic."

"You drugged me and I'm overdramatic?"

"Overdramatic looks better on me. I have the cheekbones for it."

"This isn't funny!"

"No." Their sibling's voice shifted, abruptly. "It isn't. Do you want me to get serious?"

The hero...paused. The air suddenly felt oppressive.

"I am being very gentle," their sibling said. "And you are infinitely squishy and breakable. Father's institution would have crushed you into teeny tiny pieces, so shattered that you didn't even care anymore. You would kill your friends if they asked, by the time they were done."

The hero swallowed, stricken, horrified.

"Tell me again how unfunny this is," their sibling said. "Like you think I'm stupid."

The hero shook their head.

As swiftly as the storm had come, their sibling offered them a sunny smile. The tension vanished as they booped the hero's nose.

"We're going to get through so many film nights. It's going to be great. Now." They reached for the coffee table. "Have some more tea."

[ghostybaby000]

After Hours | Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: Working has already made you feel exhausted, not to mention an awful manager making it far worse. You find yourself wanting to quit, that is until a tall masked figure gives you a reason to stay.

Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: 18+, violent theme, guns, yelling, future smut

(Not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

It was that time again, 7am. You grab your keys and purse, a coffee and a muffin to go making your way out of your home you head to work. You take the same route as always being sure to say hello to the other workers when you pull into the lot. You gather your items and head inside to the same front desk and chair waiting for you, that had been there the past 2 years without fail. You get yourself situated setting up your notepad for any callers and sip on your coffee relaxing into the chair. 

You sit up to look more professional watching as two larger men walk in the door holding guns.

‘What can I do for you this morning?’ You smile to them, as they had been frequent customers at this smaller gun range for quite some time. They come over to you, pleased as always to see a smiling face, they were still in their uniforms. The gun range was quite close to a military base, making military personal a regular.

‘Good morning Y/N, the regular please.’ You give them a small nod as you check them out and hand them a golfcart key to get around the facility. They gave thanks and make their way outside, being sure to wave goodbye as they rounded the corner. You had worked here for quite some time, as your father had known many people that came to the range- they reached out needing help and you seemed fit. You went into the interview knowing that you didn’t have much knowledge on weapons or guns hoping they would give you a side job. The manager decided that would be best, and let you work up front with your ‘pretty face’ to attract customers. A small part of you took offense but you let it go, because you were excited to be working somewhere close to home and where you knew a few people. 

Working up front you didn’t have to handle any weapons or fix any issues with them either, you simply had to check people out and give them ammunition which you didn’t mind. You began to recognize others and slowly made yourself a good fit in their community, people reaching out with Christmas cards or asking about your wellbeing. One person had never done such a thing, and that was one of the men from the military. He didn’t have a name on his chest and always remained ominously quiet and vigilante, something you noticed quickly. He always came in with 2 or 3 other members in the group but had never showed alone which only making you more curious of him. Today he hadn’t shown, nor had the typical group of other tall strong men. 

You continued to check people out until the day had reached its end, and you were plenty tired ready to get some sleep. You made your way back to your car, packed up your belongings and headed back to your home. You got in the door and settled down making dinner and watching a show before getting to bed. You wake again to the small alarm clock on your bedside table, reaching over to gently turn it off, another day had started. You typically woke at 7 everyday as it made getting up for work easier, you started to make some breakfast and put on coffee, taking in some time to relax. A little later into the afternoon you received a text from a coworker asking if you could cover their shift as she was feeling unwell. You groan out as you fall back against the couch cushions, this was your day off and you just wanted to stay at home and relax. You knew though that they were understaffed and needed help whenever they could get it and that you wouldn’t say no. You gathered your things and headed back to the range, and thought to yourself that at least you got to make a good breakfast. 

On the drive over it dawns on you that you could be doing more from your job, not just working the front desk. You hadn’t ever been offered a promotion by the snobby manager and was quickly shut down the last time you mentioned it to them. You tried to not hold any sort of grudge against people, yet the way the manager spoke to you and the other workers made you feel as if you would quit on the spot after your interactions, although you never had. You stayed because the other workers needed your help, and you needed the income not to mention getting to see people that were close enough to be considered friends. You shook the thoughts from your head as you pulled onto the gravel pathway and parked. Getting inside and settled in a few minutes, you gaze around the shop and found it to be quiet and calm as the mornings tended to be.  

You help customers as the day progresses, making small chit chat being sure to welcome everyone who comes in. The range wasn’t too busy today, only a few people every hour which you enjoyed as it gave you some time to clean the monitors you used and sweep the floor around you. 

You were sweeping up the last pile when you heard your manager begin yelling at someone from the office, with a slam of the door just down the hall. You groaned as you quickly picked up the small dirt pile you had accumulated and put it in the bin, moving to your work station swiftly. The manager now almost screaming at points of his argument, your palms begin to get sweaty and everything in you hopes that a customer doesn’t come in. You stand there nervously as people pass by the front door, you look away in hopes they won’t feel the need to come and say hello.

SLAM the phone had been hung up, making you wince as it did. You tried to act normally and as if you didn’t hear anything when you heard his office door open. You didn’t dare to ask him what it was about knowing that it would only blow up in your face, so you decide to start typing away at the computer. His boots came thudding down the small hallway as you tried to take deep breaths, telling yourself to not look his way. He stops right next to you, still huffing from yelling on the phone.

‘Where’s Catherine?’ He glares at you when you stop typing and start to look over at him, he was sweating from yelling and quite red too. 

‘Well.. she texted me saying-‘

‘I didn’t ask what she texted you- where is she?’ His tone grew more firm as he leaned in closer to you.

‘She said she wasn’t feeling well so I came in to cover for her shift…’ You now had your hands placed on your lap looking between him and down to the floor, afraid of the man that stood in front of you and how he would react.

‘well that’s just GREAT.’ He slams his hands on the counter and begins to pace the small area in front of the desk, then moving them to cover his face. 

‘She should have contacted me. Not you, ME then I could have told her that someone would cover for her- and it wouldn’t of been you.’ He looks at you when he stops pacing. You furrow your brows and look back to the floor.

‘See, you’re going into overtime now- you’re meant to only be part time which means I have to pay more!’ His voice was now booming through the small building while you sat quietly looking down to your hands in your lap or the desk, anything that wasn’t able to yell back at you. 

‘You know what, don’t come in next week. I-I cant afford it now thanks to Catherine.’ You look up now, you couldn’t miss work for a week, you had mortgage due soon and electric bills to pay and you had to buy groceries-

‘I cant miss work that long I have mortgage due this next week…could I come in for just a few hours?’ You regretted saying the words as they left your lips, watching as a smile grew over his face as he walked towards you. Your own eyes began to feel hot and watery but you wouldn’t let yourself cry. 

‘You can’t pay bills? No, I can’t pay bills! Not with people like you going overtime behind my back-you…you can afford to miss work your job isn’t essential around here! I can manage to ring people out for a while and eat a muffin at the same time- You can’t even use a gun properly and you think your fit to work here!?-‘ His tangent quickly cut off making the room feel a whole lot more quiet. The tears welting in your eyes that he couldn’t see had dropped to your pants. The door had opened and the same group of 3 had walked into the building wearing their uniforms, they must have checked in earlier this morning before you’d arrived. He immediately backs away from the counter to simply tapping his thumbs on the desk attempting to act casually. He was even more red now not that the customers could see, as he stared you down.

‘Alright. You lock up, I’m going home.’ He turns to face the customers now. ‘And you gentlemen, we are closing soon but please just ask Y/N for anything you need, have a good night.’ He walks back the office where the door now gently closed as you heard him gathering his things preparing to leave. 

You were sure they had heard the manager through the door, there’s no way they hadn’t. Yet if they had heard, they were acting as if it was the same as any other day- except the one with the mask. He was looking at you for quite some time across the room before the group came up to the desk. 

[scififettuccine]

A Wild Fix: Part 1.5?

Pairing: Platonic!Butcher x Supe!Reader

Summary: 3 weeks into your alliance with The Boys, you and Butcher go through the Vought Database. Butcher being curious about a Supe he's never heard of leads him to put together a plan that's less than safe. But does he listen to your warnings? Of course not.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Exposition, mentions of casinos, mention of suicide

Notes: Hey ya'll! Long time no see! You're probably wondering what the fuck this is. As you may have noticed I haven't posted anything in a few days. This is because when I got into writing Part 2, it became A LOT more complex and involved than I intended, including new characters and a sharp left turn in the story line that I didn't plan. Considering the results from the pole, I figured no one would really be mad if I did this. Part 1.5 is A LOT of exposition, setting up the actual second installment of the series. I could have made Part 2 longer, but it was way past how many words I wanted to have in each installment. I didn't want to call this an actual part two, because this alone isn't long enough to qualify as its own part, so...✨1.5✨ As you can most likely tell, I'm not following the canon plot exactly, I find that to be EXTREMELY boring. I know it's something that some people don't love, but at the end of the day it's creative writing and I enjoy doing it. Here is a link to Part 1 if you missed it! The official part 2 of A Wild Fix will be out very soon, but for now, enjoy this expositional interlude from our good lad, William Butcher.

It was safe to say that, since your first meeting? You and Frenchie didn’t get along very well. You had been running with The Boys for almost a month now, yet the two of you couldn’t agree on a single thing. But honestly? That didn't really matter to you. He didn't seem like the kind of person you wanted to be close with, anyway.

You had adjusted pretty well to this double standard of life, working for Vought, and working with The Boys. You were very careful, and there hadn’t been any close calls…yet. As for adjusting to the basement hideout? That didn't necessarily get any easier. You had carved out a little spot for yourself in one of the less occupied corners, just big enough to set your computer down, and maybe put a cup of coffee off to the side. And at the moment, that's where you sat. Working out time to help out wasn’t very hard. You were a member of The Seven, yes, but due to your powers, you were more of an alternate. You still went to meetings, and you still lived in the tower, you just weren't sent out as much. Butcher had requested that you dig into a few things for him in the Vought database. The Vought database had become available to you since you signed the contract with the company. It didn’t contain anything majorly world shattering, just some more detailed info on every Supe that had ever been involved with the company, including deceased, and currently active Supes. The info pages almost reminded you of trading cards, you laughed to yourself at the thought. It almost made you wonder why Vought hadn’t cashed in on some sort of trading card game.

“Something funny, love?” Butcher asked. You could see him approaching from behind in the reflection of your laptop screen.

“Yeah, actually…” You said, beckoning him over. Butcher crouched down next to your chair, looking at the computer screen. “Don’t those stats kinda look like trading cards? I mean, even the way it’s set up. Surprised Vought hasn’t cashed in on that yet.” Butcher raised a brow and leaned a bit closer to the screen, letting out a small ‘hmph’ sound. 

“You’re not wrong.” He examined the screen for a moment. “So you can see every Supe that's ever been involved with the company?” You nodded.

“For the most part, yes. But usually if there's anything they need to hide, the Supe goes to whoever runs the database and asks for that piece of information to be taken off of it. It’s actually in the contract somewhere, in the fine print, if I remember.” Butcher gave a small hum of acknowledgement.

“So if I had to guess, Homelander doesn't even have a file?” He asked. You narrowed your eyes towards the screen as you clicked out of the file you were on, and searched Homelander’s name in the top bar. When the file came up, you clicked it. Low and behold…? Not much. Just his in-company stats, The Seven logo, showing his affiliation with the group, and the year he had been signed onto the company. 

“Yeah…nothing much. Most of The Seven are like this, actually. If I remember correctly…” You clicked out of Homelander’s file, and clicked on the search bar again. You went to type in ‘Maeve,’ but Butcher stopped you, placing his finger over one of the file cards on the screen.

“Who’s that bloke?” He asked. You raised a brow and moved his finger out of the way. He had been pointing to a file card for the Supe named Mixer, who belonged to a new Vought owned Supe team that had been gaining steam recently…Residency. Vought had always sort of branded it as the new age Payback, but it was more of a marketing thing. The Supes on the team were legit, powerful, and some of them popular…But it definitely wasn't anything close to Payback. Mixer, admittedly, was one of the more known Supe’s on the team. He had been a musician first, gaining popularity from his young start in the industry. And as soon as Vought could get its bloodstained hands on the poor guy? He was signed on. Now? He had a residency at Planet Vought Casino & Resort in Las Vegas, and a spot in Residency.

“That's Mixer. He’s around my age, I think…Super popular in the music industry.” You explained, clicking on his file card.

“You know’im?” He asked. You shook your head as you scrolled through his file. 

“I met him at a convention a few years back, around this time of year actually…He seemed kinda full of himself. He has a residency now, though, kinda ironic, at Vought’s casino in Las Vegas.” You explained. Butcher nodded, clearly thinking.

“How is it ironic?” He asked.

“Mixer is part of a Supe team too, but the team is called Residency. So I thought it was kinda funny that he had an actual residency-” Butcher cut you off.

“Another Supe team? Owned by Vought?” You nodded.

“Yeah. It's him, Klepto, Bloodshot, Laugh Track, Void-” Butcher cut you off again, before you could even finish naming the members.

“The convention you met him at…Was it a Supe convention?” 

“Yeah. But not like the crazy fan ones. It's by invite only. All of Voughts Supes go, it’s a huge event. They invite new, upcoming Supes, and Vought investors. It’s a 3 day affair. They usually hold it at the Casino location that's here in the city, though, not the one in Vegas.” You turned your head to look at him, narrowing your eyes. What was he thinking?

“You said it was around this time of year?” He asked, turning the laptop towards himself so he could scroll.

“Yeah, usually towards the middle of fall…Why do you ask?” You raised a brow.

“I’m assuming you're invited?” He asked, the smirk on his face growing.

“Yeah, like I said, most contracted Supes are there. Annie is going too, we kinda have to…You’re not thinking what I think you are…right?” You asked, narrowing your eyes once again.

“That's exactly what I’m thinking, love.” He chuckled and stood up. “A whole casino full of Supes and Vought officials? That's practically an information gold mine. And with your connections? We’re bound to uncover something. Do you get a plus one or anythin like’at?”

“I’m pretty sure contracted Supes get two guest passes, but this is out of the question, Butcher. Digging at a Vought run Supe convention? It’s suicide for anyone involved.” You said, closing your computer. This wasn't a good idea, not even in the slightest.

“So if both you and Hughie’s girl go, that's four guest passes between the two of you?” He asked.

“Yes but-” Butcher cut you off before you could protest.

“Just enough passes for Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and meself. It’s settled, then, love.” Butcher gave a smug smile and patted your shoulder. You cringed internally. Butcher wouldn’t take no for an answer…and you didn’t favor the idea of being on his bad side.

 If you were caught, no, if any of you were caught snooping around at this convention? You’d be dead before you could leave the building…or worse.

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

And that's the end of my exposition bomb. Again, Part 2 is coming very soon, and I'm sorry that I had to break it up like this. This series became more involved than intended, as you can probably see. More information regarding Residency and its significance is to come👀 Stay tuned to get back to your regularly scheduled Frenchie x Reader content <3 Adieu!

teeny tiny taglist: @llynx7 @stinkysam

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Whatever You Like - Lewis Hamilton

<word count - 3451>

Tonight was going to be your first gala with the Mercedes team, and you were panicking. Big time. "I have nothing to wear. Literally nothing," you complained to one of the friends you had made, Alice. "Surely you have dresses or something," she said.

"I do, but they are nowhere near nice enough for this kind of thing," you said, knowing you would have to go shopping before you went. "Tomorrow, I'm going to the mall, and I am going to throw something together,"

"You'll be fine, you're stunning, so you can wear whatever. Who else is going?" Alice asked, kind of wishing it was her going. "Me, Lewis and George. Toto said I was randomly selected since they had an extra space to fill," you said, already feeling nervous. 

"Have you even spoken to either of them, ever?" she asked, also feeling quite smug. It would be entertaining to hear about this on Monday. "Yeah, a couple of times, but I'm pretty sure they will have plenty of other people to talk to,"

"You'll be fine, just talk to anyone you see. Now, I've got to go, send me as many pictures as you can take," she smiled, walking away and leaving you sat at the lunch table by yourself. You finished your lunch, before retreating to your desk to finish off your work for the day.

The gala was tomorrow night, and you were going to spend as much time as possible finding the best outfit you could. For a moment, you heard people stop typing on their keyboards and watch who was walking through the office. 

Looking up from your computer, you spotted Lewis strutting through the office. You caught his eye as you looked, so you glanced away and focused your attention back onto your computer. You heard his footsteps approach your desk, but you just assumed he was walking by.

"Y/N, you're the one going to the gala tomorrow, right?" he asked, leaning against the filing cabinet next to your desk. "Yeah, I am," you said, swiveling your chair around to face him. "Would you mind telling me what you're wearing?" he questioned, keeping his voice down so he didn't distract everyone.

"I'll be honest, I don't have a clue right now. I'm going shopping tomorrow," you explained to Lewis, and his face told you that he had an idea. "Let me take you shopping, I can get you gala ready," he smiled, and you were speechless.

Lewis Hamilton had just asked if he could take you shopping. "Please, it'll be fun and I will make sure you look incredible," he said, and something in his eyes willed you to say yes to him. I mean, it's not everyday Lewis Hamilton offers to take you shopping.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds fun. I will warn you, I am very picky," you laughed, trying to contain the excitement you felt. "I'll take that as a challenge. I'll pick you up, yeah?" he asked, walking backwards as he walked away from your desk.

"But you don't know where I live?" you said, but he just put his thumbs up to you and carried on walking. You gave yourself a second to calm down, and then returned to your work. You didn't know what time he would be getting to your house, or even if he would be able to get to your house. 

But you were sure he had a way, so you figured he would take care of it. You woke up earlier the next morning, just in case Lewis showed up at a random time. Eventually, you spotted a Mercedes pulling up outside of your house, and you figured it must be him. 

"Are you ready for the best shopping trip of your life?" He asked, opening the car door for you as you locked your house. "Are you ready for the most difficult shopping trip of your life? Getting me to look good for these things is going to be hard,"

"It'll be easier than you think," he smiled as you stepped into his car. It was by far the nicest car you had ever been in, and it still wasn't sinking in that this as what you were doing. "So where are we going first?" you asked out of curiosity. 

"I am taking you to the best shops I know," he said as he pulled away from your house. For a moment, you panicked. There was no doubt that the places Lewis shopped were expensive, and you didn't earn nearly as much as he did obviously.

Finally, the car stopped and everything looked so... Luxurious. All of the shop signs were shining and golden and it just smelt like money as you walked. You felt really out of place amongst all of the people that were shopping here.

They all walked around, their heads held high. You, on the other hand, just tried to blend in as you walked beside Lewis. "This might not be completely your style, but we might as well try, you might see something you like," he explained as he opened the door for you.

Inside, there were tall ceilings and racks of clothes. There was only one of each piece, and that was when you knew you were shopping high-end. The floors were marble, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on the empty walls.

"Wait here," Lewis said, walking over to the counter. You could see the recognition in the cashier's eyes - he shopped here often. He talked to one of the ladies and pointed at you. He was probably explaining the situation. 

Lewis motioned you over, and you joined him beside the sales lady. "This is Monica, and she is going to be helping you out," he told you, as the lady held her hand out for you to shake. You shook it and smiled.

"Follow me and I'll see what we can do for you," she said, walking through a curtain beside the check out desk. When you walked through, it was like something straight out of a movie. There was a platform with mirrors all around it, and a couple of seats just in front.  

Lewis went and sat on a plush, cream couch right in front, and you were guided into the small room beside the platform. "I'll be waiting," he smiled, looking forward to what they would put you in. 

Monica told you to stand there while she walked around the shop, picking colours that would fit your skin and eyes, while selecting the perfect sizes for you. "Put these on with this," she said, pointing to some pants and a blazer, "And let me know if you need any help getting anything on," she said, leaving you to get changed.

"Thank you," you said, putting the pants on first. They were pretty low-waisted, and they hugged your legs until the knee, where the black fabric flared out. They fit you perfectly, and you quite liked them. 

The blazer was a bright, sapphire, but there was no shirt with it. You pulled it over your shoulders, and buttoned up the golden buttons on the front. But, you thought you had done something wrong.

The neckline plunged down to your stomach, showing off a lot, and you were sure there was something missing. "Monica?" you called, and she was quickly in the room with you.  

"You alright?" she asked, looking at your figure. 

"Have I got this on right?" you queried, looking at yourself in the mirror. Monica stepped up to you and hovered her hands around your midriff. "Can I?" she asked, and you nodded to give her your permission. 

She adjusted the placement of the blazer on your body, and it definitely looked better. She turned you so you were facing the mirror, and pinched the fabric at your back to cinch the waist slightly. "I'll just pin it here, and it will give you the full effect," she said, and the fabric stayed in place as she pinned it. 

"OK," you said, walking out of the room and stepping onto the platform in front of Lewis. "What do you think?" you asked, not sure how to stand.

"Wow, you look incredible," he smiled, gazing at the outfit. "But what do you think? That's what's most important," he said, and you felt like he could sense your reservations with the outfit. "I don't know, it's nice, don't get me wrong, but it's not really my style," you explained, not really able to pinpoint what you didn't like. 

"That's fine, do you want to try something else?" 

"Yeah, I think I will," you said, walking back into the small room. Monica unpinned it for you and handed you the next outfit. It was one piece this time, and it was in a deep, rich burgundy. She left you to get it on, and you already liked it much more than the blazer. 

It fit you like a glove, and legs being loose and floaty, while it clung to your curves on the top half. Just as you were about to leave, Monica came back and handed you a pair of patent, black stilettos. You slipped them on your feet and wobbled back out onto the platform. 

"That is already better than the last one," he smiled, looking at the expression on your face. He could already tell you like it more. "I like it, like, I really like it," you giggled, gazing at yourself in the mirror. "I feel like there's a 'but' after that, Y/N," he pressed.

"It's just not... The one, y'know?" you said, wishing you like it. It was really nice, it made your figure look impeccable. "Yeah, I get it. We aren't stopping until we find something that you adore, alright?" 

"Yeah," you said, walking back into the room and putting on your normal clothes. You didn't want to be the one to ruin the fun, but the other reason you didn't get any of the clothes you had tried on was the price tag. These were expensive, and way out of your price range. 

"The next store will be more your style, guaranteed," he said, leading you down the street and into another shop. This one was automatically more down your alley. The fabrics were light, some of them were glittery, and all you could see were dresses and heels lining the walls. 

You took a dress down off one of the racks, and your hands immediately found the price tag. There was no way you were getting one of these. "Lewis, I can't, it's too much," you said, nudging him and showing him the price. 

He understood what you were saying, but he had already decided what he was going to do when he offered to bring you shopping. "Mr Hamilton, what can we do for you today?" a cheerful lady approached you. 

"My friend here needs an outfit for a gala we're going to tonight, don't hold back. Just make her look mesmerizing," he explained, as if he was completely ignoring what you had just said. 

"Are we adding this to your account?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. You couldn't blame her, Lewis was nothing short of gorgeous and his fashion sense just added to it. He was a presence wherever he went. 

"Yeah," he nodded, without missing a beat. 

"Lewis, I can't let you-" you started as the girl walked off, expecting you to follow her. 

"Just let me take care of it, OK?" he softly said, and it sounded like an instruction rather than a request. "My treat," he smiled, and the look in his eyes was couldn't fail to convince you to just let him. "Fine," you sighed, following the sales lady. 

You tried on two dresses, and you had two more to go. You didn't like the other two for numerous reasons. They just weren't the one. As you were trying on the third one, the sales girl went to talk to Lewis. "She's a very pretty girl, Mr Hamilton," she smiled.

"She really is, and she would look perfect no matter what she's wearing," he smiled, thinking about you. Little did they know, you could hear their every word, and a light blush tinted your cheeks.  "I also just wanted to ask if there is any limit on the price? I have a dress in the back and it would suit her perfectly, but it's one of the most expensive items we have in-store at the moment,"

Lewis didn't even have to think before answering, "Oh no, you have an unlimited budget. Give her the works. Dress, shoes, accessories, the lot," he told her. 

"OK," she smiled, scurrying off to collect the dress she had told Lewis about. The minute you set eyes on it, you had a feeling that it was the one. When you were stood in front of Lewis, he could see the glint in your eye. "This one is nice, but the one that I've just been brought is beautiful," you said, itching to put the other one on.

"Well go and try that one on then," he chuckled, adoring the excitement that you were showing at the thought of the other dress. He had never gotten to see this side of you before, since this was the first time you had had a proper conversation. 

He couldn't shake off the feelings that he was experiencing right now. You were just too cute for it to be ignored. You stood in the changing room for a second and just gazed at the garment. The second you put it on, you fell in love.

The skirt was just a waterfall of glitter and crystals that pooled at your feet, and the fabric was a dark, midnight blue. The section from your waist to your chest was a skin-coloured mesh, and the chest area was the same, bejewelled fabric. 

The top half hugged your figure and clung to all the right places, and the length of the skirt made you look taller. To top it off, there were shoes made specifically to match the dress. You walked out of the room, the material trailing out behind you.

"You are stunning, I-. Wow," he fumbled over his words, unable to articulate how he felt. The huge grin on your face made his heart melt. "It's just exquisite, isn't it?" you said, unable to tear your eyes away from your reflection. "You're exquisite," he muttered, and you overheard.

"I'm guessing that's the one?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, without a doubt," you nodded. You took it off in the changing room, and the assistant took the shoes and dress to put them in the box. By the time you had gotten outside, Lewis had already paid for everything, and you didn't even want to ask how much it cost.

"Thank you, so much. I don't know how I'm going to repay you," you gushed, walking out of the store with a big bag in your hand. "You repay me by looking indescribably stunning in that dress," he flirted, playfully winking at you.

The butterflies that you had were unlike anything you had ever felt before. Checking the time, you realised you only had an hour and a half until you needed to be at the gala. "We really need to go, I need to get ready!" you rushed, showing Lewis the time.

"I have everything under control, relax," he said, walking past the car and continuing down the street. At the end of the street, there was a set of studios, and Lewis buzzed on the intercom. "Val? It's Lewis," he said, and received a very zealous reply.

"Lewis! Come on up," she said. Val seemed like a cheerful lady right off the bat. The door swung open, and Lewis stepped aside to let you in. "You will love Val, she is wonderful," he said, walking up the stairs. 

Letting yourself into the studio, you saw a huge makeup table, with dividers that people got changed behind. There were also a few hair stations as well. "Lewis, I haven't seen you in-" a woman, who you assumed was Val, started, but stopped talking when she saw you.

She was a round lady, with bright ginger hair and a very eccentric colour scheme for her clothing. She was a typical artist. "Oh she is just as beautiful as you said she was!" she exclaimed, wide eyed. She put her hands on your arms and span you around a few times. 

"She is, isn't she," he smiled, loving the sight of Val peering at your every feature. He knew she'd love you, since she had been begging him to bring her one of his lady friends for her to doll up. And now, he had finally followed through with his promise. 

"So what are you wearing, honey?" She asked, wanting to plan what she was going to do with your hair and makeup. "This," you said, opening the bag and the box, pulling the dress out and holding against yourself. 

"Now that is a dress fit for a gala," she smiled, the perfect look popping into her brain. "OK, you sit down there, honey, and I will be right with you. Lewis, you can get dressed first, then I'll be right with you," she instructed.

You sat in a chair, the table in front of you had every inch of it covered in different makeup products and a huge mirror with lights built into it. "Is there anything you want me to do, or do you just want me to go for it?" she asked, playing with your hair as she looked at you in the mirror. 

"Just do whatever you think will make me look fabulous," you laughed, fully trusting Val. If Lewis did, that meant she was good. "OK, honey, OK," she chuckled, getting started on brushing your hair. She slicked it back with the products she had, and you were surprised with how much you liked it. 

Next, she moved onto your makeup. She went with a smoky eye in the same midnight blue that your dress was, and a light pink on your lips. She powdered a soft, silver shimmer on your cheeks and swiped a blush for that rosy look. 

"You go and get your dress on, and I'll get your accessories ready," she excitedly clapped, letting you go to get dressed. "Hey Val? You there?" you called, but you didn't receive the answer you were expecting. 

"Val isn't, but I am. What do you need?" Lewis responded. You came out, holding the bodice to you, "Could you zip me up?" you asked, trying not to be rendered speechless by how good he looked. A suit could make any man look better, but it just enhanced all the right things on Lewis. 

"Sure," he said. You turned your back to him, and you felt his fingers lightly brush the skin on your back as he moved your hair over your shoulder. He placed one hand firmly on your waist as he tugged the zip up to the top. 

"There you go," he smiled, reluctant to pull his hand away from your waist. At heart, he was a hopeless romantic, and it took every fibre of his body not to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "Thanks," you said as Val walked back in. 

"Alright then honey, come here," Val said, motioning for you to go over to her. She made sure jewels were dangling off of every part of you that they could, you were practically dripping in the things. Your ears, neck and wrists were sparkling and glittering under the lights of the studio.

"And one final touch," she said, taking your hands and slipping some rings down them. "Oh Lewis isn't she just the prettiest thing you've ever seen?" Val smiled, taking a step back to admire you. Lewis' eyes raked over your figure, and he couldn't believe that the girl who sat at the desk near Toto's office was stood here, looking breathtaking. 

Well, he always thought you were pretty, but this was beyond anything he had ever seen. He was around supermodels and the like at these events, but he was certain that none of them would compare to you. 

"She is Val, she really is," he agreed, looking into your eyes. 

"You have to bring her back for me, OK?" Val asked. She had so many different ideas that she wanted to try on you, and only seeing you once was not enough. "Oh I'll be back Val, whether Lewis brings me or not," you laughed, causing her to smile.

Finally, you got back into Lewis' car, and he drove you to where the two of you and George were going to be picked up. This was going to be one hell of a night.

A/N - I'm thinking a part 2 when they're at the gala? Let me know!

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝 3)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : When Ben comes across Crimson Countess he also runs into the man that released him from the vault back in Russia. He proposes a deal which Ben has to think about, but Butcher has some information that peeks his interest. Your whereabouts.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : spoilers to the show (Ben’s encounter with Crimson Countess), a little bit of a steamy moment. I think that’s it?

After his encounter with The Legend, Ben knew that his first stop would have to be Crimson Countess. But there was one more piece of information he needed to gather.

He needed to know where you were and he needed to figure out how the Hell he was going to get to you. You were his top priority and he had a feeling Countess would know where to look. He didn’t know if that feeling was right, but it had to be worth some sort of shot.

Soon enough, Ben made it to the shitty little trailer that Countess lived in, but before he could make an advance on the little building, he was confronted. He saw this man’s face before, but from where. But then it clicked and he recognized him.

“You’re the asshole from the lab.”

“That’s right. I’m the one that managed to get you out. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I know you want Countess dead. Don’t worry, Mate, I’m not here to stop ya. She’s right in the trailer for the taking. It can sort of be considered a uh.. a gesture of good faith.” The man said. Ben lifted a brow.

This man meant to tell Ben that he allowed Countess to live just so he could kill her? What the hell was this man trying to get him wrapped up into?

“Good faith for what?”

“Well, I was thinking that you and I could come up to what one would call a… well a team up of sorts.”

“You want me? To team up with you?”

The burly looking man smirked before he reached into his pocket before pulling out a little piece of paper, “We know Countess isn’t the end goal for you.”

Ben didn’t like the sound of this. But he wasn’t about to stand by and take orders from some rookie that thinks he can be won over by Countess’ life being saved.

“Oh yeah, and what do you think my end goal is supposed to be, hmm?”

“A certain retired supe named Quake.” Ben’s jaw tightened for a moment and was about ready to tear this stranger limb from limb if he dared to make a threat against you.

“Now don’t get the wrong idea, Mate. I’m not here to make any threats against you or your little Harlot. This is just another gesture of mine after you take down Countess in there.”

Ben looked at the sheet the man was holding in his hand and he started to think before he spoke again, “I’ve got my own mission, Buddy.”

“Oh we understand. The details can be discussed a bit later, but we need a um… a favor I suppose you could say.”

“Let me handle Countess before I take any favors from the likes of you. If I want that address badly enough, I have my own ways of getting it without having to owe anyone any damned favors.” The man walked over to him anyway before he just handed the paper over.

“Just take the damned paper, Mate. Make your life a little easier. Go in there, do what you need to do, and I’ll even give you a ride to Quake myself.”

Ben thought about it before he reluctantly took the piece of paper from the man he would later learn was named Butcher. He put it into the pocket he had in his uniform pants before he started walking up to Countess’ door.

He has waited so long for this little ‘reunion’ of sorts.

When he walked in, he noticed that his ex girlfriend was bound to a chair. So that was what the man meant by a gesture. They did all the hard work and she sat there so helplessly for him. They were really trying to suck up to him for this little favor they wanted, huh?

“Ben? Is that you?”

Ugh, even her voice made his stomach churn with so many regrets. At one point he even hated to say that he loved her before you came into the picture.

As he stepped further into the light she spoke again, “You look so young.”

“Yeah well.. you don’t.”

Ben could see the fear in the woman’s eyes and oddly enough, it was exhilarating to know that she was fully aware of her mistake. She genuinely thought the Russians could have killed him, “I’m so, so sorry..”

Ben tilted his head as he watched her practically tremble with fear in her seat, “This wasn’t my idea. You have to believe me.”

“How much did the Russians pay you, Sweetheart? Hmm?” The moment she looked away and revealed that they didn’t pay her was crushing oddly enough.

“They didn’t pay you anything? At all?” Still, no eye contact was made as Ben continued to stare at her.

“To think.. at some point I loved you.” He began.

“I know you and I had our ups and downs, but I still held onto the hope that while they tortured me, burned me, injected poison into me that somehow you would be the one that would come and find me again. You were the one I trusted most on the team.”

Then, Countess finally looked back up at Ben and she had this spiteful look in her gaze.

“Love? I didn’t love you. I hated you.” She seethed, leaning forward into her chair,

“Every last one of us hated you. What kind of a woman would love a monster like you?”

The hand that wasn’t holding Ben’s shield tightened into a fist. So that was the true feelings Countess had. There wasn’t even a sibling sort of love or any sense of camaraderie to give them a bond over the years? Everything they had truly meant nothing?

Ben’s eyes darkened and he felt that familiar burning in his chest once more. It was a little less intense then before, but he watched Countess’ eyes widen and she leaned back into the chair as she tried to brace herself. But he was sure nothing could have braced her for a death quite like this.

He released the energy that was building up within him and a blast escaped his chest. Several seconds went by and the light from the energy blast finally dissipated. When he looked in the spot where his former girlfriend sat, he saw nothing but a burnt skeleton in her place. Her home was completely destroyed in the process but of course, it didn’t exactly matter to him.

When he stepped off the remnants of the trailer, he saw some blonde chick staring at him and her eyes started glowing yellow before some lanky looking kid stepped in front of her. He could tell they were starting to have a discussion, and since it didn’t involve him Ben decided to walk away and start his own journey.

As Ben walked, he pulled out the sheet of paper and saw your address. Apparently it’s changed since the last time he saw you. All he knew was that he was one step closer to seeing you again.

“So, Mate. What do you say about that team up?” The man with the accent said and he turned around and stared at him.

“You take me to this address so I know this is really where she is. Then I’ll think about that little favor of yours as far as putting it on my agenda.” Ben said, and luckily for him the two men that were deciding to follow him around for whatever reason knew that this wasn’t up for a negotiation.

Whatever they wanted, they must’ve needed him pretty badly to make sure whatever they were going after gets accomplished.

“Of course. We’ll take you there now. It’s a couple of hours from here though so you’ll be in a cramped car for a while.” The lanky one finally spoke. What did this little kid have anything to do with this?

After a few hours, they pulled up several yards away from some sort of cabin. So this was where you decided to stay? Some cabin in the woods? He supposed it was private enough after all.

While Ben looked out of the window towards the building, he heard Butcher turning in his seat. Ben glanced over and saw that Butcher was handing him yet another sheet of paper. this time it had a phone number on it.

“Take the night to think on it, catch up with that little friend of yours now that you know she’s inside, and call us in the morning.” Ben lifted a brow and took the sheet of paper before he got out of the car. Butcher and Hughie - evidently that was the name of the scrawny kid - backed out and drove off, leaving Ben there.

He started to walk up to your cabin, his heart pounding in his chest and he could even hear it. This felt so surreal and he wasn’t even sure he could knock on the door incase it was just some kind of dream.

As he got closer, Ben realized that you didn’t have any lights on in the house. He carefully walked up to a window and took a look inside. When he did, he caught a glimpse of your little office area. You had a library, he supposed reading could be a good pastime for retirement even if he wasn’t a big reader himself. But what caught his attention was a chest that was sitting beneath your desk.

He could see the top of the chest was open and there were a shit ton of envelopes inside. Who the hell were you supposed to be pen pals with all of this time and who had the time to write like that? He couldn’t be more curious if he tried.

Ben bit his lip as the wheels started turning in his mind as he tried to think of a way to sneak into this room. He reached into his boot and picked up a pocket knife and started to slide it into the window, his attempt to unlock it and let himself in that way. To his surprise, Ben was successful and he opened up the window before proceeding to let himself in. Then he shut the window quietly once more.

When he walked over to the desk and pulled out the chest and set it on top of the desk, he got a closer look at the names on the envelopes. He turned on the lamp on your desk so he could see a bit better and he noticed that every last one of them had his name on them.

“She wrote letters?” He asked himself, mostly in a hushed tone. Then he noticed the fact that each envelope had been dated from 1984 to just this morning.

He took one of the letters and noticed the date as September 19, 2001. One of his birthdays over the years. As he opened it up, he saw your beautiful handwriting and he smiled to himself as he began to read.

Happy birthday my Ben!

Today would be your 82nd birthday. I know I’m not that far behind you. We’re both a couple of oldies, huh? It’s crazy how much times have changed here and I wish I could hear your thoughts on it.

I know for sure you would be opinionated on the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon couple of days ago. I know you would want to be one of the first ones there to set the terrorists straight. Honestly I think you would hate what this world has come to anyway. You missed out on the Y2K movement at the turn of the millennium. Technology is really advancing and it’s honestly really scary. And we thought Vought’s tech was getting out of hand. People even have little computers they can take into their homes now, phones aren’t attached to the walls anymore like what we had growing up. People can carry their phones in their pockets now. That’s crazy to me!

I miss you so much, Ben. It never gets easier celebrating your birthday since everyone thinks your dead. I know that I should to, but I can’t for whatever reason. There’s a lot of conspiracy theorists that think you’re alive but those are few and far between. Unfortunately not a lot of them know who you are anymore. We have a new generation of supe fans and the old school supes are either dying off or they’re retiring and getting forgotten. The only supe you may recognize that’s active on the field would probably be Black Noir.

But anyway.. Not much is really happening. I’m watching a couple of your old movies today before I might go grocery shopping. Maybe I’ll pick up a few more envelopes. I’m running low on some supplies for these silly letters.

I love you, Ben. You’ll always have my heart.

Your Y/N.

Ben couldn’t help but feel this warmth in his heart, and it wasn’t one of those energy blasts getting ready. He folded up the piece of paper and put it back into the envelope and looked through some more of the envelopes.

Then he pulled another one out, this one was dated for January 19, 2020.

Well, Ben, I think human society will be coming to an end soon.

No it’s not the reason one would think. Apparently this virus called Covid has hit the country and everyone is supposed to be quarantined. It’s not that big of a deal for me because I’m alone anyways. But I was doing some online shopping to stock up on some things and I found out that stores are selling out of toilet paper of all things!

People get too hysterical. But maybe I shouldn’t talk too much about that since I’m a supe and don’t have the luxury of suffering from a virus like that. The people without our abilities and immune systems are suffering a lot though. It’s kind of hard to see the decline of everything.

It’s moments like this where I’m sort of glad that you’re not here to witness this madness. I really hope things will get better though. I don’t know if it will. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

Y/N

There was even a virus? How bad was that? From what you said in your letter, it sounded like a national problem, maybe even global. Times really had changed a lot and he couldn’t believe just how much he had missed. All of this information just from reading two of your letters.

Honestly, he was glad you wrote these letters. It gave him something he could use to catch up on a lot of things that have happened over these past few decades. What made it even better was that it was from your own point of view. And if he could, Ben would spend all night reading each one of your letters.

It was so thoughtful to know that you did this. That you didn’t give up hope on him and that you would write to him as if he were still there able to read every word.

Just as Ben was about to grab another letter to read, he heard footsteps coming down from the hall and then there was the sound of a switch. When he looked over he saw that there was a hall light on and saw the most beautiful woman in the world standing in the doorway.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he left you for Nicaragua. It was like you hadn’t aged a single day either.

You were standing there in your grey ish silk robe that reached down to the floor. Around your neck he recognized the chain of the necklace he gave you all those years ago. He was amazed that you still wore it around your beautiful little neck. Your hair framed your face perfectly, as if you hadn’t even gone to sleep just yet.

He could see the disbelief in your eyes as he carefully took a step forward towards you.

You stood there completely stunned. You thought you had heard a noise a few minutes ago as you were getting ready to try and sleep but the feeling was too unsettling. You were glad you had gotten out of bed and walked down the hall because when you noticed the light in your office was turned on, you were shocked at who was in front of you.

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. This had to be some sort of dream. But you don’t remember actually being able to fall asleep that night. But what you believed you were seeing was Ben, alive and well and in his uniform. He looked like he hadn’t aged a day, much like you hadn’t aged.

“Ben? Is… Is that you?” You breathed out as he started to walk towards you.

“It’s really me, Sweetheart.”

Hearing his voice again made your eyes well up with tears. After so many years you never knew when you would possibly be able to hear his voice or even see him again, but Ben was really there standing in front of you! You could hardly believe it!

You ran into his arms and he lifted you up effortlessly and spun you around. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his neck. His hands were beneath your thighs as he wrapped your legs around his waist to keep you steady but he was able to use one hand to cradle the back of your head. You must’ve been trembling since he started to mutter sweet nothings in your ear.

“It’s really me, Love. I’m not leaving like that ever again. Not for Vought, not for anyone.” He reassured you, but you didn’t really care about that right now. You were too caught up in enjoying his embrace.

You slowly pulled away from his neck so you could get a better look at him. Gently moving a strand of hair away from his face, you admired every little feature of his face. You thought you would never be able to see him again or be this close to him again. As you moved one of your arms to place a hand on his bearded face, you leaned in and gently smashed your lips against his. You hadn’t realized just how many emotions you were holding in at the moment as you felt warm tears streaming down your cheeks. Tears of joy, happiness, so much relief, confusion, and other emotions that you couldn’t exactly describe in that moment.

Ben kissed you back instantly and he could feel one of your hands going to the back of his neck and your fingernails found the bottom of his scalp, the gentle scratch as you ran your fingers through his hair caused a chill shoot through his spine as the kiss started to grow more heated and passionate. He’s longed for this closeness for so long, even before he was shipped out of the country. He’s missed you and everything about you.

The moment your lips parted, Ben instantly wanted more of your kisses but you started to speak again.

“Where’ve you been all this time? How did you make it back?” You asked breathlessly as Ben lifted a hand to wipe the tears from your face.

“I’ll tell you all about it later. I had some business to take care of before I was able to see you.”

“What business was that?”

“Countess…” He trailed off, making you lift a brow. “Originally when I was supposed to come back with the others I was going to break things off with her. Granted it’s several years later but I still needed to have a conversation with her.”

The expression on your face told Ben you must’ve been a little skeptical about the ‘how’ everything transpired and maybe she speculated he had more than just a conversation to end things. But he could always tell you later.

“I promise… I’ll answer any questions you have later. The important thing is, I’m back and I’m here with you again and Countess is permanently out of the picture.” That beautiful smile you had returned on your face and Ben leaned down to kiss you again but you pulled away, confusing Soldier Boy.

“Set me down.” You whispered and got out of his grasp. Then you took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his before Ben realized he was following you through the house and he made it to your bedroom.

Once he was in the room you shut the door and Ben looked down at you. The next thing he knew, Ben was sitting down on the edge of your mattress and he watched you took off your robe. You were wearing just a regular set of pajamas, a loose fitting black silk tank top and some matching shorts to go with it but you were still so unbelievably gorgeous.

He took your hand he gently pulled you close and you sat down, straddling his lap. He could feel your delicate hands on his chest and he lifted a hand to touch your sweet face, letting his thumb gently caress your bottom lip. He could feel how warm your cheeks got at such a simple action, and he lied the way you seemed to react to his touch. Then, Ben leaned in to kiss you once more.

The warmth of his lips sent a fire inside of you as Ben continued to deepen the kiss. You could feel his tongue over your mouth and you parted your lips for him. An involuntary little noise escaped you from his kiss. You started to feel a little light headed with the way he seemed to consume you in the moment.

But the moment Ben parted your lips, he lifted you up and turned the both of you around so you were on your back. The actions caused you to let out a giggle. You didn’t know why you laughed, maybe it was because both of you were eager, maybe it was still the fact that everything was still so surreal for you. Ben didn’t seem to mind the laughter because he was smiling at you when you looked up at him.

You reached up and pulled him down for another kiss and he placed a soft kiss on your lips before he started letting his lips work their way down your neck. You could feel his beard tickling your sensitive skin but you didn’t mind. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his touch as you let your hand go to the back of his head, fingers getting tangled in his hair.

Ben smiled against your skin when he felt your hands in his hair again. He reached down and moved one of your thighs and you instinctively hooked it around his waist as he settled between your legs. Then he let his hand run up your thighs, loving how soft your skin felt beneath his fingertips. He could feel the way your body seemed to grow hot with his touch and he loved it.

But just as things were starting to get good, things were interrupted.

Both you and Ben could hear some sort of ruckus outside and Ben lifted his head from your neck, “Son of a bitch, what the hell is that?”

You were definitely frustrated that you were interrupted too, but you wondered more about what could be outside. How were you found? You had a feeling that whatever was outside couldn’t exactly be good news.

You and Ben both got out of bed and started making your way to the living room and you walked towards one of the windows and you saw Black Noir standing with Queen Maeve. You could faintly hear Queen Maeve talking about something.

“I still don’t get why Homelander wants us to check this out. Is he really that paranoid about Starlight? They’re supposed to be the world’s number one couple aren’t they?” You could hear Maeve say, but not to anyone’s surprise Noir didn’t answer.

Still, it was enough for your eyes to widen. Homelander and the Seven knew where you were now? Why the hell did they come to your door? How did you get wrapped up this mess? Just by some sort of minor association with that Butcher fellow and his little group?

“Noir…” You heard Ben speak.

When you looked over at him, you could tell he was angry. What the hell happened in Nicaragua? You turned to him and put a hand on his chest.

“They can’t possibly know you’re alive. They want me because of some group that stopped by a few days ago. Just stay here before you get yourself in trouble again.” You pleaded.

“You don’t understand. Noir was a part of it some how. I need to go out there and-“

“Ben, I don’t know what you’re planning. I don’t know how you plan on doing it. But you need to do things right and right now that means listening to me before you wind up somewhere that you don’t need to be. I’m not losing you for another several decades.”

Ben’s jaw tightened and he hated when you got stubborn like this. But you were right. He supposed the logical thing to do at the moment was lie low before he found out where the rest of his former teammates resided. And Butcher… maybe he knew more than he was leading on.

Before Ben knew it, you were walking out your front door to confront the two supes.

“Hi there. Is there something the two of you need this late at night?” You asked, not really that scared to face them head on. If it was just a conversation, you could handle it.

“O-Oh. Quake. We didn’t realize that you were still awake.” Queen Maeve said, almost like a teen who’s plans to sneak out got foiled.

“Yeah, you both are interrupting a good book I was reading before I was alerted you were out here. Now what do you want?”

“Noir and I just wanted to know if you were visited by a man named William Butcher and his friends, and if you happened to know anything about Soldier Boy.”

“Soldier Boy’s dead, remember? You know just about as much as I do.” You said, crossing your arms.

“Quake, we know Starlight found your address. There was an explosion where Crimson Countess lived and when servailence was checked, it caused us to have the belief that Soldier Boy is alive. We have reason to believe he may be here and we just want to talk to him.” Queen Maeve said and your eyes darkened.

You knew Starlight was sweet and all when she sent you that photo of Ben, but you should have known she was naive and she’d get caught eventually.

“I told you, I don’t know anything. Now I think you should leave.” You said, your tone growing more stern.

“We just need to see if Soldier Boy is here then we’ll get out of your hair.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that both of them were unwilling to listen, then you raised your hand forward. The earth beneath you began to shake and then, from the ground, rose a wall of rock and dirt. You made a pushing motion with your hand and the wall went forward, pushing Queen Maeve and Black Noir back until they hit a couple of trees in the woods.

You were just glad you had plenty of acreage with nothing on it so you could use the ground as much as you needed to for self defense.

Anyway, you raised your hands again and took the patch of ground that Black Noir and Queen Maeve were on, lifting both of them up on their own personal island before you practically flung them several miles back from where they came from.

After all, they’re supers. They’ve survived worse. You just wanted them away from your home, not dead.

You shut the door behind you and walked past Ben who must’ve seen the whole thing through the window.

“Why’d you through them across all creation like that?” He asked, trying to joke with you, but you weren’t exactly in the joking mood anymore.

“What the hell did you do to Countess? They said there was some kind of explosions? They want to know where you are and now they may want to kill you.” You said as you started looking for your suitcases.

Ben sighed for a moment before he started telling you everything from his point of view.

“Countess and my team members stabbed me in the back. They tried to get me killed and the Russians took me. They were trying to figure out what could kill me and somehow in the process, I got new abilities that results in these energy blasts like the explosion at Countess’ place. She’s dead.”

“Holy-fucking-Hell, Ben! You can’t just go and blow people up like that! Do you realize that there’s cameras practically all over the place? No wonder they found you!” You exclaimed as you started packing up your things.

“Look, I’m still new to this whole technology-is-everywhere concept, alright? She lived in a damned trailer, I didn’t think it would get that much attention.” He told you and you sighed.

“Why are you packing up everything?” Ben asked you as he watched you moving about.

“Because my house is known to Vought now? And since I was uncooperative with those two supes, it’s only a matter of time before Homelander tries to take a shot at me and I don’t feel like dealing with his bullshit. I’ve got to figure out some other place to go. Not to mention the fact that I helped out Grace whenever I retired. She doesn’t have a good reputation with them either. They know William Butcher and his friends came to my house asking some questions because I think they want to take down Homelander once and for all, naturally Vought’s not going to like that. I’ll have to go into hiding all over again until I figure out where to go.”

Ben frowned at the way you were rambling but he supposed he could understand where you’re coming from. He watched you head to your office to grab something before he reached out and took your arm to get you to stop moving around so frantically.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. Haven’t I always made sure you were safe from Vought after your little endeavors in retirement?” He reminded you and you let out a sigh as he pulled you into his embrace. He laid his head on top of yours, hating that you were suddenly stressed out about this mess.

“You did…”

“And what makes you think I won’t help you now? That William Butcher guy, he came to me wanting my help. He was the one that basically put Countess on a silver platter for me and he lead me to you. He probably wants the same things you do.” He said.

“Let me call Butcher. If he’s really as much trouble as this Homelander guy as you say he is, and he still hasn’t gotten caught? Maybe I can do that little favor he needs me to and we’ll figure out a plan from there.” He insisted.

“I don’t know.. what if the supes take you again or if someone double crosses you?”

“I’ll just have to kill them before they can try.”

“That’s really not comforting…”

Ben smiled a little before he placed a kiss on the top of your head, “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Once we get everything we need to settles, you and I can find some place to go. Hell we can travel out of the country if we wanted to and find some nice place to spend the rest of our lives.”

“That’s… a little bit better I guess. Gives me something positive to think about.”

“That’s better… now, why don’t I make a call to Butcher then we can get whatever you need all packed.” He insisted and you nodded against his chest.

“Ben?”

“Yes, Sweetheart?”

“I’ve missed you. Really missed you.”

Ben lifted his head from the hop of yours and he looked down at you. He could see so much worry on your face after everything that’s just happened. It was such a contrast from how happy you were moments ago and he hated how quickly things seemed to change.

“I’ve missed you too, Sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You smiled softly before you carefully pulled him down by the neck and planted a soft little kiss on his lips before pulling away from his embrace.

“Give Butcher a call. We may not have that much time.”

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed part three of this story! There will be more to come soon 🥰

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @fanfic-n-tabulous @chriszgirl92 @hobby27 @nancymcl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @capricxnt @k-slla @angelbabyyy99 @david-tennant-obsessed-blog @deangirl96

[valentinetypewriter]

Knife happy Medjacks

Masterlist

Word count: 723

The maze runner (platonic/unspecified) x Gn reader

I got this idea from this deleted scene

Jeff has to wrangle in Clint and Y/n, who after dealing with builders all day, start to agree that maybe amputation is the way to go

Today had been a particularly rough day for Clint, Jeff and I, the builders had started a new project today and with that brought many of those said builders into the Medjack hut with various injuries. Ranging from cuts, scrapes, bruises and the occasional broken bone. They may have been incredibly strong but the builders didn't seem all too bright sometimes.

We had just sent off one of the builders who managed to break his finger with a hammer when Clint decided to speak up “you know, maybe we really should start amputating them” I put away some supplies before looking over at him. “Well I mean it would certainly start teaching them to be more careful” he let out a quick laugh “it would also make our job a lot easier when they're building” the two of us laughed with each other before Jeff stepped in. “Ok no, we are not amputating them” I let out a sad groan “aww come on Jeff, don't you think they deserve it” Clint was quick to back me up “Y/n’s got a point, plus their stupidity is starting to get on my nerves”.

Jeff seemed to almost consider what we were saying before instantly shaking those thoughts away “NO! Besides, how would we explain amputation just for some cuts and bruises?” Jeff simply rolled his eyes at us as he went back to sorting our supplies. Me and Clint looked over at each other, nodding and silently mouthing agreement's.

Organising all the new equipment took a lot longer than any of us would have liked, it wasn't easy when we had stupid teenage boys coming in every five minutes because they couldn't seem to distinguish nails from their own hands. We had just finished taking care of two guys, who had somehow managed to slice up their arms, working into lunch. The random influx of boys coming in was something that the three of us struggled to keep up with sometimes. The three of us sat around the hut all very exhausted. I sat myself down on a chair in the corner of the room, Clint was sitting on a stool with his head resting against his folded arms on the table next to him, it seemed like he was asleep. Jeff on the other hand had made himself comfortable on one of our operating tables.

“We should probably get some lunch before the others devour everything” Jeff said with a sigh, he seemed to hate his own idea of getting up. I groaned as I stood up from my seat, dragging myself over to Clint, shaking him gently “hey wake up buddy, we need to get some food” Clint rubbed his eyes before slowly pushing himself up from his seat. Though before any of us could even move a step, the doors were pushed open. Clint instantly flopping back into his chair, a tired and annoyed whine coming from him. I grabbed the Gigli saw off the tray of equipment, turning towards the door “what do you want?”

The two boys stopped in the doorway “woah put the bloody saw down, we only brought you some food” the three of us instantly perked up at Newts words. “Yeah we thought we'd bring you some food since you've been taking care of my guys all day” Gally sat down two trays of food on the table Jeff was sitting on while Newt handed the one he was holding to Jeff, who instantly started eating, though I couldn't blame him. I pick up one of the trays and handed it over to Clint before dragging a chair over to the table to start eating myself “well thank you boys, that's really sweet of you” Newt smiled at me as Gally ruffled my hair “don't mention it, figured you guys would need some rest, besides we're done for the day, to many broken hands” Gally shook his head and I wasn't quite sure if it was out of annoyances or disappointment.

“Well Gally and I will leave you three to rest, and don't worry we'll bring you some dinner too” Newt smiled at us before making his way out the door, quickly followed by Gally. A few moments of silence passed as we all ate before Clint spoke up “I still reckon we should start amputating”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 30

Brahms Heelshire + Breeding

Finally, almost done with kinktober. No proof reading on this one, because I could not be bothered lmao.

 Shoutout to Egg Anon for being so excited for this one, sorry for making you wait so long for it.

Kinktober list

Getting Brahms to shower was always a chore, the man living in the walls having grown comfortable in his own filth in every sense of the word. The first time you had tired to make him shower he had whined and cried obnoxiously. He only ended up agreeing because you wouldn’t even kiss him goodnight because you said he smelled so bad. It ended with you having to change the water in the bathtub at least three times before it was clean, not to mention the war that was scrubbing his hair.

It hadn’t become any less difficult as time passed on, though you did figure out it was easier if you gave him a reward afterwards. Be it a cuddle, extra kisses or cooking his favorite meals. After your relationship had developed even more you knew he wanted a different reward, from the way his hands strayed to your chest, or his eyes seemed locked between your legs when he thought you weren’t looking.

Once when it had been yet another struggle to get him to bathe, he head left his mask on the sink after undressing to your confusion. Brahms wasn’t the type to not wear the thing, and it was almost uncanny to see him without it because you had gotten so used to it.

Your question as to why he took it off was answered when you had gotten up from your crouched position by the tub, only for Brahms to lean forward and press his face into your crotch, mouthing hungrily at the gift underneath your layers. Grabbing him by the hair and forcing his head back made the man whimper, his tongue half stuck out of his mouth from his licking and wetting of your jeans.

Brahms had whimpered and whined, looking up at you with blown pupils and a quivering bottom lip, his puppy eyes used to their strongest. But you had quickly grown immune to his eyes and begs over your time with him, so you had just pushed him back with a tsk and told him he didn’t deserve that type of reward because he had acted up so much when you wanted to get him clean. Maybe if he behaved, you’d let him taste, or even give him something even better.

After that Brahms seemed almost excited to bathe, going from bathing once every few weeks to wanting you to wash him every night before bed. And of course, you had followed your promise and after scrubbing him clean, you would always get to your feet, open up your jeans and let Brahms choke himself on your length, hand in his damp but still clean hair as he got drool and spittle all over you.

One night during Brahms shower, he told you to leave for a while because he could do it himself. You were very confused, because though he could do it himself Brahms was not the type to turn down your pampering and scrubbing him all over. He pouted at your quirked brow, his hands underneath the warm soapy water as he huffed at your reluctance.

Knowing he would call for you soon you just shrugged and left the bathroom, shutting the door carefully behind you. Deciding to stay nearby you sat down in one of the many fancy chairs that littered the hallways of the large mansion, pulling your phone out of your pocket to start scrolling through social media, keeping an ear out for Brahms noises as you heard water splashing.

Time passed and Brahms didn’t call out to you, though you did hear his noises behind the door. Brahms wasn’t one to keep quiet, so when you heard his keen from the bathroom you got to your feet and made your way over. Deciding to keep listening you stopped outside the door and listened, an interested tingle spreading through your abdomen as you heard Brahms moans and whimpers.

When you heard him moan your name you grabbed the doorhandle and pushed open the door, biting your lip as you saw Brahms on all fours and sideways in the tub. He was supporting his weight on the side of the tub with one arm, the other reached behind him so he could press his fingers inside himself.

His eyes were clenched shut, the burn scar on the side of his face scrunched up at the grimace he made, a slightly louder voice leaving him as he brushed against his prostate. You couldn’t keep the curse that left your lips to yourself, and Brahms eyes quickly snapped open and met your own, the man letting out an almost pornographic moan as he pushed his fingers deeper into himself.

He whimpered and whined, begs falling from his lips as you slowly stepped closer. Your socks became soaked as you stepped in the water that was pooling on the floor, most likely spilled there from Brahms moving around too much in the water and it spilling over the sides. When you reached down and caressed his face Brahms was quick to catch your thumb between his lips, sucking at the finger and rolling his tongue over its underside as if trying to tempt you to touch him more.

“Please, please” Brahms whimpered around your thumb, his eyes watery as he looked up at you, the hand working himself open growing sloppy and uneven as his arm grew tired. “What is it you want, Brahms?” you muttered, the crotch of your pants feeling tight from how hard you had gotten at the sight in front of you. “please…I want…” he whimpers as his fingers brush his prostate, “I want you to fuck me please” he chokes out as a tear runs down his scarred cheek, spit dribbling down his chin and down your wrist as he tries to take your thumb even deeper into his mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale and pulled your thumb from his mouth, quickly reaching down to pull Brahms to his feet before he could start whining. By moving him he had to remove his fingers from himself and grab at your front, your clothes growing soaked as he stumbled into your arms. You groaned as he quickly wrapped himself around you, his harm cock pressed tightly into your clothed stomach and leaving a spot of precum on the shirt.

“Come on” you mutter as you lean down to kiss him, slipping your tongue between his lips and stepping back, pulling the man out of the bathtub, and leaving even more water on the floor. Wet kisses were swapped between your lips as you moved the two of you closer to the sink, Brahms hands shoving up your shirt and making you shiver as his cold fingers met your skin.

Dislodging your kiss, you grabbed Brahms hands and pushed him backwards and away from you, causing the man to whimper loudly. Flipping him around you pushed Brahms against the large bathroom counter, the kind you only really find in rich people houses, with too much counter space and an obnoxiously big sink. Though for this it was perfect you thought as you put a hand between Brahms shoulder blades and pushed him down against the marble, Brahms letting out a yelp as his still wet chest was pushed against the cold stone.

Brahms stuck out his hips as far as he could, almost arching his back as he grasped at the counter with fumbly fingers, trying to find anywhere to grasp on. Using your free hand, you reached down and shoved down the front of your pants, grabbing the top of your boxers to pull them down under your balls to let your cock bounce free.

The scarred man against the counter moaned audibly as he heard the movement of fabric, knowing what it meant, and it made him spread his stance just a little. “Lift your leg please” you mutter, reaching down to grab under one of his thighs to get his knee up onto the counter and truly spread him open.

He seemed to have done a pretty good job at stretching himself open in the bath, but you could never be too sure. Opening one of the many drawers you grabbed a travel sized bottle of lube, popped the cap and quickly covered your fingers. Patting him between the shoulder blades you told him to keep still and be good.

Brahms did his best but couldn’t help but wriggle his hips as you pressed the lubed up fingers inside him, the man shivering at the cold but his cock throbbing where it was twitching between his legs, a bead of precum gathering at the tip and dripping onto the floor. When you were satisfied with how stretched and lubed up he was, you used the last of the lube to slick up your length.

Grabbing onto his hips you stepped in close behind him, using a hand to lead your length until you pressed the head against his wet quivering hole. “You ready?” you husk, Brahms choking on a moan as he begged you to get inside him already. Chuckling you press inside, groaning as his warmth wraps around you, his walls clenching and unclenching as the man whines and moans, his hips wriggling trying to make you move immediately.

Pressed inside fully, you let the both of you adjust as your hips are pressed against his ass. You run a hand over the thigh that’s up against the counter as if to calm him like one would a wild animal, the muscles in Brahms back flexing as if trying his hardest to control himself. “Please… please fuck me… breed me” Brahms whines, voice wobbly as if he was about to cry.

Suppressing a groan, you grab onto his hips tighter and give him what he wants, moving your hips slowly back and forth, quickly growing faster in your movements until Brahms is gripping onto the edges of the marble counter, loud moans and cries leaving him as your length abuses his insides.

Brahms begging grows louder and higher in pitch as you strike his prostate, drool running down his chin and leaving a puddle on the counter as you keep hammering your hips against his, the loud noise of skin on skin and the wet noise of lube filling the bathroom, as you both moan and pant. Losing his grip of the counter Brahms reaches behind him and grabs onto your hips as if you pull you even deeper, his naturally deep voice croaking as he begs you to fill him.

He is the first to finish, the muscles of his back tensing and stretching as he throws his head back to the best of his ability, his cock throbbing as it shoots streaks of white against the doors of the counter, painting the dark wood.

Your thrusts grow faster as you approach your peak, the grip on his hip becoming even rougher as you feel the familiar warmth gather in your abdomen. As you reach your orgasm you shove in as deep as you can, your hips flush against his cheeks as you spill inside him. Brahms lets out a pathetic sounding moan as he feels your warmth fill him, his body slumping against the counter as his muscles all seem to finally give out.

The two of you stay pressed together, trying to catch your breaths until you’ve both come back down from your orgasms. You slowly pull your length out of Brahms, moaning softly as you watch his hole clench and cum dribble from his hole. Helping him get his leg down from the counter, you make sure to praise him and press kisses against his skin as you pull him to his feet and against your chest.

When you mention Brahms probably needs another bath he whines, turning his head to bury it in your shoulder. You chuckle at his behavior and tell him it can wait, that you both should go get changed and cuddle up, which your lover agrees too with a sleepy hum.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

gax + corporate/law vibes + ‘The powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.’

gax?? gax!!

power (you make some points): a gax ficlet

rated m, ~1.2k words now also readable on ao3

author babble:

bear in mind i wrote this before i knew more about the Gax Lore i.e. karting together, actually being nice to each other blablabla. you could also just retrofit the vibes and hopefully they still work. anyways!

will throw this up on ao3 when i’m not sitting bleary eyed in an airport

————

If there was one thing that Max Verstappen wouldn’t tolerate, it was George Russell having the monopoly on good PowerPoint presentations. Max had won all four years of debate in College, as well as the dubious title of “most radical deployment of Google Slides templates” at his MBA, and he was not about to be usurped by the other guy in his department who actually knew how to use an animate transition.

“You missed an indent there.” Max says, pointing at the monitor. Yellow and red lights wink at them from the outside, as if to say: you’re both in your mid-twenties, quit wasting it on a computer screen at 11pm on a Wednesday, maybe?

Max is not staring, very determined not to look at his teammate’s facial expression. But George is almost certainly rolling his eyes right now.

“Was coming back to that, alright?” George huffs back. Max is very professional most of the time. But something about how wound up George is, how insanely pedantic he is about everything from semicolons to coffee cup placement for the Directors to taking insanely detailed minutes that nobody except Max reads after the meetings – well. What is it that Nietschze once said? We hate in others what we most identify with about ourselves. Or was that from Twitter? Max does not really use Twitter except to look at Bloomberg News updates and cat videos, so he does not know. And anyway Nietzsche never made a six figure salary.

“It would just be easier if you would let me do it.” Max says.

“Fuck right off, mate.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like me to.”

“Not now.”

“Just share the link to this. I’ll do it.”

“We agreed to take turns on this.”

“Yes, Russell. But sometimes, the rules are meant to be bent.”

George swivels his chair to Max, then. Fully attempts to pin him with his gaze, commencing an awkward stare-off that lasts way too many seconds and makes Max once again realise that George’s eyes remind him of the expensive fish tank he saw at the Partners’ sushi dinner once. Max doesn’t think those same fish were the ones they ended up eating. But he does remember that dinner because it was the one where the Partners had dangled the promise of a huge promotion if they could help carry the company merger across the line successfully. The problem is, there was only one spot.

George’s distracting aquatic orbitals aside, fortunately, Max (i) never backs down, and (ii) has been told that he has the dead-eyed emotional stare of a robot missing an empathy software upgrade sometimes.

And clearly, the powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.

Max leans back in his chair, stance all mock-relaxed. “Do you want to be out of here before midnight, or not?”

“We’re expensing the Ubers either way, so it doesn’t make a difference to me, mate.”

Fine. If George is so hyperfocused on The Tasks that he’s forgotten the fun part of being Questionably Close Coworkers, so be it.

Max deploys the nuclear option.

He sticks his leg out, nudging the toe of his Pradas onto George’s slacks. And strokes his foot halfway up to a sensitive point on George’s thigh. Max may even flutter his lashes a little.

To his credit, George does not react. Merely swings his eyes like a lamp to Max’s face again. His hand does, however, goes still on the mouse.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Max feigns. He knows that George hates, more than anything, anyone getting dirt on his precious Ralph Laurens. But at least he has his attention now. “Was hoping we could move onto the more fun part of the typical evening activities. Maybe.”

“We shouldn’t be doing that again anyway.”

“George.”

“What?”

“That is not what you said the last, hm, fourteen times that we have done this, eh?”

“Who’s counting?”

“I thought you were the most careful of rule followers and data analysis, knapperd.”

George is a human being, but Max is almost certain the other man shakes himself like he’s preening right now.

“Well. It’s what the team likes me for, and it’s what I’ll keep doing.”

“Oh yes. Surely we must keep in mind the team. And the shareholders. They are very important.”

“Quite.”

“But should we tell them that you like it so much, George. When I do this.” Max says. Rising up, fully crowding George in, hands gripping the cool handles of the computer chair. Leaning in to nibble the side of George’s neck.

George swallows. Max watches his throat move.

Next, Max mouths the words onto the side of George’s jaw, stubble prickling his mouth. “And this.”

The click of the mouse continues steadily as Max moves his mouth to the shell of George’s ear. “And let’s not forget. This.”

Max tilts George’s face up fully, then. George’s face is flushed, eyes sparkling, all surprise at the sudden change of pace, but eager, too.

When Max seals his lips over George’s, George groans, and his hands shoot up to Max’s waist immediately. It doesn’t feel quite like winning a deal or a pitch does for Max, but the completion comes pretty damn close.

Max sweeps his tongue into George’s mouth. George opens willingly, like he always does. In the back of Max’s logical brain, a warning sign blares that the computer chair may not be able to support the weight of them both – because they spend a lot of time pretending they don’t work out together at the gym but Max knows exactly what George’s deadlift PB is and it’s pretty damn high for a scrawny looking dude.

And despite the keening protest of said chair, the two of them are both lost to it now. Max jams one knee between George’s legs, George nibbles hungrily at Max’s lower lip, Max thrusts his hips all needy, and maybe if Max is nice about it George might suck him off under the table, and–

Outlook chimes again.

“Blasted piece of shit.” George says, breaking away. His hands go still at Max’s waist. “Why we’re using G-Suite and Microsoft Office at the same time I will never know.”

George squeezes his eyes shut, as if making himself stop this is causing him physical pain. Maybe it’s that or the workflow incompatibility when George tries to move his custom Excel-Trello gantts into a third party API.

And Max won’t lie. He kind of likes it when George gets so irritated about these things. When he cares a bit too much. Because what is Max but exactly like that, too.

“Hazards of a merger, I guess. But without that, I would never have met you, no?”

George makes a noise like he knows what Max means. The other man straightens his shirt collar, and Max runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, because George had made a passing comment at the bathroom sink once about it looking good.

Sleeping with the person competing for the same Chief of Staff position is possibly the worst decision he could’ve made, and Max once dyed his hair platinum blonde. But, they’re stuck here together. Hell is a slightly more tolerable place when Satan’s right hand man looks this good. And knows his coffee order without asking.

Besides. Max is not bothered. He knows that the promotion is his. This is just a minor plot inconvenience.

Later, they will expense the uber back to George’s place, where Max will put his mouth on George’s arse, and give him a practical demonstration of the three different ways he’s learned to elicit pleasure from the male prostate.

George will whimper and whine the whole way through it, and after they’re both sated, they’ll both roll over to check their emails, barely concealing their smiles. They will pretend that what’s happening between them could be as clean as their zero-email inboxes. As if their connection is not violently seeping through containment.

All in the name of team bonding. For the firm. Yes.

(Or this is what they tell themselves, to maintain the illusion, anyway.)

[emsgwenstan]

Holding on to our family

{Larissa Weems x fem niece reader.}

Words: 2k

Warnings: flashbacks, angst, hurt.

Note/summary: after Larissa’s death, y/n heads back to nevermore to tie some loose end or attempt to anyway.

2 miles to Jericho. That’s it. You know how far the township is from the airport like the back of your hand, but for the first time you wish you didn’t because then the sickening feeling wouldn’t be so prominent. You remember the first time you traveled to Vermont from London, you were 14 and she happily greeted you at the station in Burlington.

The sun was unwelcomly shining and casting rays through the branches, she loved the sun, the shadows whipping over the car from the ungodly speed you were doing. “Auntie lissa I’m scared.” You said. “Just go slow sweetheart, I’ll tell you when to change gears.” She smiled. “Ok, oh my- don’t you get scared passing other cars!” You shrieked. “You will be fine just concentrate on your side of the road. I promise you will be ok.” She said. And you believed her. If only she could see you now.

Passing by the Jericho sign you slowed down to take the turn off for nevermore’s drive way. ‘12 minutes’, you thought opting not to speed trying to drag it out for as long as you can. Once the iron gates came into view, your heart paced quicker. The nostalgia filled your senses as you recall how your nevermore days were the best of your life, you had friends, you did well in school, you had the privilege of having a single dorm with your own space and privacy and it was all thanks to her.

Larissa was the one who helped you on your darkest days, lightest and every other one in between, it started from the day you were born, your mother was absent and you father was always busy with his company and running off with his abundance of secretaries. She is- well was your fathers sister, your aunt consequently, but you forgot that most of the time, she was more like both the parents you needed in one, every holiday she would come back to the uk and visit, doing everything she possibly could, like teaching you to drive.

Putting the car in park in the lot that displays ‘reserved for principle L.W.’ You stepped out, the whole 6 feet of you, plus the extra inches from the heels you had on, straightened your blazer, did up the button then smoothed out your signature Weems, platinum blonde hair. The cobblestone clacking the whole trek, as expected once you rounded the corner many eyes set on your figure, students and teachers all going quiet and whispering to each other. Some you still remember.

Not stopping until you climbed the stairs to her office you made it on top of the mezzanine, your eyes flicked to her hanging portrait on one of the far walls. Pacing to the painting you admired it for a moment before you slid it aside to retrieve the spare key. For the first time in two years you stepped through the threshold of her office, it felt weird, wrong, the fire wasn’t alight, her laptop wasn’t resting on top of her desk, but everything else remained in exact place as the last time you saw it.

You walked around the desk to sit in her chair, just like you had many times before. “Here my sweet, sit here, it will be easier to do your homework.” She’d say. “Thanks lissa, you’re not leaving though?” You asked. “No, I am done for the day, but I’ll be right here on the lounge reading for a bit.” She said coming to stand behind your place in her chair, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head and walked over to lay down with her heels removed and legs slung over the edge of the couch. How you missed her.

As you sat tears started to well in your eyes, you discarded your sunglasses tossing them onto the table and rubbed at your eyes. Just then the door rang with a gentle knock. “Y/n?” A small voice asked as the door cracked open. Lifting your head from your hand a small smile graced your face. “Enid, hi.” You said standing, walking over to her with open arms. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come up here.” She said coming into your embrace. “Yeah well I had to some time.” You said. “I missed you.” She huffed into your chest. “I missed you to little lycan.” You said pulling back with wet eyes and a sniff. “Heeyyy, I love the hair.” You said groggily playing with the pink and blue tips. “Thanks.” She said sadly.

A moment went by when she spoke again. “I miss her too.” She said looking around the room. “Yeah.” You mumbled. A noise emanated through the door, you looked at Enid quizzically. “Um that’s Wednesday.” She said spinning on the spot and going to open the door, the girl really was like a storm cloud, literally black and white, just like how Larissa had explained. “Hello Wednesday.” You greeted. She peered at you unblinking until she looked you up and down. You extended a hand for her to shake and hesitantly she did so. “Y/n Weems, I’m Larissa’s niece.” You explained. “She told me a lot about you… don’t worry I don’t bite.” You said looking at Enid. “Well biting isn’t really a worry for you I suppose is it.” You said trying to ease the awkwardness. The look on Enid’s face was priceless, completely red. Wednesday on the other hand her scowl dropped immediately. “Hey that’s what happens when your added to this one’s close friends story on instagram.” You said giggling.

“You look like her.” Wednesday spoke, most likely her way of a shot at a compliment. “Thanks.” You said. “Ok wens we should go now.” Enid said dragging Wednesday behind her. “Horrified to meet you Wednesday.” You said, she peered over her shoulder and smirked, that gave you hope in possibly being on her good side. The door closes behind them and you paced to the middle of the room. ‘Guess I should consolidate with the staff.’ You thought with a sigh. “You will be fine, I know you don’t like talking to people but I’ll be right there the whole time, just waiting in the car.” She said. “I’m so nervous.” You expressed fixing your necklace in the mirror. “I know but you will feel so happy and relieved when you’re done.” She said standing behind you giving a squeeze to your shoulders. “What if they say they don’t want me as an employee?” You asked. “They would be silly not to consider you.” She said guiding you towards the door. In the end you got your first job at the mayor’s office as the receptionist, all thanks to the encouragement of her.

A while later finally finished meeting and greeting a few of the staff to let them know you will be staying for the week, all of them looked at you sympathetically as if they felt sorry for you, but you knew even when Larissa didn’t express it, that not one of them knew her or even cared enough try take some of the schools stress off her. You saw how it would take a toll, how tired she would be but never gave up and she never gave up on you. “Try again.” She nodded. You shifted for the second time and became the spitting image of your father. “Oh dear-.” She laughed, you cackled at the situation. “Out of everyone to pick.” She continued to laugh. “Ok your turn auntie lissa.” Your 15 year old self said shifting back to yourself and perching on her bed.

You hadn’t bothered to go backdown to the car and bring up your bags yet, when you return into the office you go straight to her quarters door. That damn door, how a piece of wood can be so imposing is beyond you, although once the door is unlocked and the hinges creak open you may never walk back out. You slid the key into the hole and twisted until it unlocked, you lent up against the architrave and observed the room, again everything in its place. Pacing inside you went and flopped on her bed, toeing off your heels and kicking them off the mattress, you snatched one of her pillows and hold it to yourself curling your legs up towards your stomach.

For the next hour you laid in the same position hugging onto the pillow like a life line, her sent still remaining. Pachouli, bergamot, vanilla and almost the faint smell of English breakfast tea. You scrolled through the photos in your phone’s gallery, seeing the ones from when you were born and an early twenties Larissa holding you, looking down at you as if her whole world just lit up. The timeline continued on all the way up to your early graduation from college, with Larissa holding onto your waist and you with an arm slung around her shoulders. You turn off your phone and break down sobbing into the pillow.

———

Two days have passed and all you had done is go through Larissa’s photos, clothes, trinkets and make up. You would take one piece of jewellery and wear it during the day just to feel a little bit closer to her, then when night came you would place it back in the exact spot you had taken it from. Nothing was boxed or packed, you couldn’t find it within you to place her things in a crammed space and send them home, this is what she has to show for her life and packing it away didn’t feel like an option.

Over the next two days you hung out with Wednesday and Enid, taking them into town, going to the weathervane, or just for a drive. You never really noticed how much you missed nevermore until now, unless perhaps it wasn’t the school that you truly missed, the memories are bittersweet, only now do they feel tarnished and painful, nevertheless it’s nice to know that you have a home a true home that comes with a chosen family, on the outings with the girls you were mistaken for being Enid’s older sister, to which you’d correct, though the mistake can be made since she’s 16 and you 23, only 7 years apart.

Returning back to school grounds you opted for a walk down to the lake, it felt like just yesterday you had won the Poe cup, having Larissa cheer you on from the side lines. You remember that even before you celebrated with your team you ran straight to her and embraced her with a joyful scream. It was nearing dawn and you decided to go back to your- her room, where you could use sleep as a procrastination.

“Larissa I’m an adult I can do anything I want!” You yelled. “Yes daring I know that but-.” She began. “No! Stop trying to keep me here, I want to go and experience things myself, I will not be rooted in one place like you, I actually need a life!” You exclaimed. Larissa straightened up and cleared her face of hurt emotions, turning into a stern look. “Fine.” She said. Your stomach churned. How disappointed she is. However you stuck it out and left, but before you could reach the door Larissa stopped you and wrapped her arms around your neck and breathed an I love you, one you didn’t return.

You sat up straight in bed gasping as the memory fades from your eyes, you look around to see the dimly lit room still and quiet through watery vision. “I’m sorry.” You whispered into the room. “I’m so so sorry… I love you too, I love you so much.” You said with your voice breaking and your throat sore. It displayed 3:02am on the clock resting on the bedside, you dragged yourself up and out of the tangled sheets to make a tea for yourself wrapping a blanket over your shoulders and back to keep warm.

With the beverage in hand you sat on the floor leaning against the end of the bed in front of the fire place, you were exhausted, the loop of the memory on repeat making every run through more painful. It was true the whole thing was real, you had been irrationally irritable that day, when you visited Larissa to tell her you were thinking of travelling alone across the world, the worst part was that Larissa was the one who actually encouraged you to travel and explore but to be careful and safe and yet you threw her support and generosity and care back in her face as if she were a monster. 

It only took 2 weeks until you were back in contact with one another, Larissa was relieved to know you were ok and you were relieved she forgave you as well as listened to every ‘I’m sorry’ you had to offer. Turns out going back to London to pack and prepare without her wasn’t fun or adventurous at all, if you were to do something, anything, you wanted to share the experience with her, because Larissa wasn’t just your aunt, no, she was practically your mother, roll model and your best friend. That was the last time you visibly saw her, two whole years ago, you would do anything to go back and wrap yourself around her frame and never let her go.

With the tea finished and cup discarded, you went back to bed in hopes of a restful sleep, but of course you weren’t that lucky. The next morning you felt tired and drained in every way, you spent the day walking the grounds, visiting Ophelia hall to see Wednesday and Enid, and finally ending the day with sitting on the floor of Larissa’s walk in closet to flip through the box she kept her year book, newspaper clippings and sentimental things, but it wasn’t just hers it was your things to, the nevermore newspaper from 6 years ago when you had been early excepted into a prestigious university, the hair clips she would put in your hair every time she came to visit when you were little, Polaroids from over the years and dated notes from significant days in the past.

“Y/n, are you ok sweetheart?” She asked looking up at you from her arm chair in the corner of her room. “Yeah…” you said quietly, looking down. “I wanna tell you something.” You murmured. Larissa slotted the bookmark in between the pages of her book and gave you her undivided attention, you pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to her to unfold. “I can’t say it.” You said pacing about the room. You could hear her unfolding the paper and the silence that followed, but a giggle interrupted the raging thoughts in your mind. “Oh darling… that’s ok, that’s wonderful, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me such a thing. Come here.” She said, you turned and walked to her with your head down, as you sat lightly on her lap snuggled into her chest and tightly wrapped arms, she spoke again. “I love you no matter who or what you love, if you’re interested in girls or boys, vampires or werewolves I don’t mind……. can I tell you a secret?” She asked. “Yeah.” Larissa inhaled and slowly exhaled before she whispered in your ear. “Really?!” You said sitting upright. “Mhmm.” She smiled. “Oh, I was wondering why you didn’t like that nice man we spoke to at the grocery store the other day.” You said, in response Larissa laughed.

11/5/2019- y/n came out to me!

You traced her cursive handwriting at the bottom of the note you handed to her that day with a smile and placed it back in the box as well as putting the lid back on. Standing back up and turning the light off, you had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right, but ignored it. You grabbed the blanket from the bed and threw it over yourself going towards the office to turn off the lamps and stoke the fire before a knock on the door was heard. Walking over to it you opened the door to be met with one of the staff holding a few papers.

“Evening y/n, these were dropped off this afternoon, I thought I should bring them to you… sorry it’s late and I interrupted.” She said holding out the stack. “No it’s ok Melanie, I appreciate that thank you.” You said taking papers. “You have a relaxing night.” She said turning on her heels to leave. “You too.” You said closing the door. Wonderful, just what you wanted, letters with principal applicants, schedules of new school developments, an obituary form and a mediocre memorial service for Larissa. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You said. Somehow you internally corrected yourself with the word ‘language’ as if you could hear the statement about to come from her.

Another knock, you rolled your eyes. “Come in.” Nothing but a stretch of silence. “Melanie, if you forgot to tell me something you can come in.” You said walking back to the door. Nothing could have prepared you for what lye behind it, you opened the door and the wind was knocked from you lungs. No. This isn’t real. “Wow, I’m going insane.” You said peering into those bright cerulean eyes, dropping the blanket from your shoulders. When her hand extended to cup your cheek, almost immediately tears ran down your cheeks. “You’re not real.” You breathe. She stepped closer to run her other hand over your hair. You could feel her. You could see her. You could smell her.

You stood still as if you could blink to hard and she’d be gone. “Hello my darling girl.” She said with a smile. As brief as it may be and as much as you didn’t want to you rubbed your eyes knowing she will be gone in a moment trying to flea from this torment…and yet her grip stayed prominent, her smell still lingers and her form remained. You were in pure shock, you brought your shaking hands to her face to trace at it just to be sure. She was there, she was here, she was home and she was finally back exactly where she’s supposed to be, with you.

“I have a lot to explain, but firstly…” she began. “I love you.”

@sabraaabra

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

birthday countdown 2024, day 5: rescue snippet

the birthday countdown continues to tick down! today, i have for you a beckman pov scene in need of a fic; the scrivener document title is “this belongs in a plottier story,” and i stand by that description:

Giving Shanks a look somewhere between misery and murder, Buggy mutters, “You have no idea what it's like.” “Mm, I don't know… people having a lot of undeserved expectations sounds pretty familiar to me.”  Shanks moves to fidget with the brim of a hat that he no longer owns. “Oh come on,” Buggy scoffs. “I mean it!  I was—Buggy, I was a child when the captain gave me that hat.  I wasn’t an exceptional pirate, or a prodigious fighter, or anything like that.  He didn’t give it to me to declare me his heir, he gave it to me because I was a kid on his ship, who thought his hat looked cool, and asked if I could wear it.”  A wry smile on his face, Shanks says, “The difference between me and you is I learned how to work around expectations, instead of being dragged in their wake.” “There are way more differences between us than just that,” Buggy mutters.  “Like number of functioning arms.  Or braincells.” “Oh, yeah,” Shanks says, faux-thoughtfully.  Beckman quietly braces himself.  Buggy bristles; he clearly recognizes that tone too.  “Underwater, I guess I do have more of those than you.”

(1.3k below the cut)

Beckman is in an early morning meeting with his captain, another in a long line of meetings with not a smile to be seen—not with so many big names anchored close by, their men cohabitating, waiting for a decision to be made—when a faint cry from on deck has Shanks shooting upright in his chair.  He turns an eye in that direction, his unerring observation haki telling him something that alarms him.

Beckman casts his own senses that way.  It feels like conflict between a couple low-level crewmen, with one gone overboard.  Concerning, but nothing serious enough to warrant Shanks’ personal intervention… but Beckman hasn’t been first mate of the Red-Haired Pirates this long for no reason.  When Shanks runs out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “Get Yasopp and a life preserver—actually, make it two—port side, as fast as you can,” Beckman’s already on his feet, doubting that they’ll make it in time.

Luckily Yasopp is quick to find—he prefers to be at the highest point of the ship when they have strangers on board, keeping an eagle eye on enemies and friends alike, and by his frown he has more of an idea of what's happened than Beckman.  Luckily Beckman just finished orienting new crew on the places where they store safety supplies, so the life preservers aren't blocked off and hidden by the barrels of supplies they brought on the day before last.  Luckily Shanks left a trail of his discarded cape and sandals that's easy to follow, easier still when it ends in a pair of foam-mouthed crewmen collapsed against a wall.

Beckman hears the quiet plup of a diver with excellent form entering the waters below without a hint of a splash, and leans over the railing to see a faint pale sliver of a figure swimming down, down, and away…

Yasopp measures the wind, hefts each life preserver consideringly, and nods.  “When he surfaces, I'll be ready,” he says.  “You go ahead, get those two out of sight.”

Beckman nods.  Whatever these men did, it riled Shanks up enough to use conqueror’s haki on his own crew.  It's worth a private interrogation, if nothing else.  Without saying a word, he hefts one over either shoulder and strolls back across the deck.  And if any of their guests notice, and pass word along to their home ships… that’s one less thing for Beckman to deal with.

“Well?” Shanks asks when Beckman returns to the main deck, not quite half an hour later.  He's ruffling a towel through his hair, which is going to dry in awful salt spikes later, but he appears, essentially, fine.  You'd never guess by looking at him that he'd gone in the water for anything more than a passing fancy.

His rescuee, on the other hand, is a miserable, bruised, half-drowned rat of a man.  His disembodied hands wring seawater out of his clothes and back into the ocean as he shivers under three oversized towels, but the glare on Buggy the Star Clown’s face would almost make you think Shanks had been the one to push him overboard.

“Spies for Blackbeard,” Beckman says.  Shanks frowns.  Disappointed, but unsurprised.  “Apparently Buggy caught them at it and attempted to blackmail them rather than turn them in.”  Buggy scoffs under his breath.  “They knocked him out and tossed him over the side of the ship, intending to claim he'd made an escape by—”

“I know what they intended,” Shanks says.  His chipper demeanor is long gone.  “Buggy, how did you spot them?”

Buggy scoffs again—or maybe coughs, his voice is so hoarse with saltwater that it's hard to tell.  “I didn't!  Those idiots assumed I was one of them, and came around to brag about how much progress they'd made in getting close to you.”  He coughed again, turning to hack a wad of phlegm overboard.  “The disrespect!  As if the Genius Jester Buggy would ever deign to work for that overgrown weasel.”

Shanks stays quiet; on a hunch, Beckman follows his lead.

“And of course the spies decided that I had intentionally tricked them into revealing themselves,” Buggy continues to rant, “and that I must have done so to blackmail them into handing over Blackbeard’s secrets, which outraged and offended them so much that before I could split myself they were beating on me until I blacked out.”  He rubs at a bruise-dark temple gingerly, then says, “I woke up just as they were hefting me overboard.”

A faint hint of a smile curls the corner of Shanks’ mouth.  “Things like this really do just happen to you, don't they?”

Gesturing expansively, Buggy says, “They really do!  People assume all sorts of shit about me, and whether I want to go along with it or not they don't let me get a word in edgewise, and then before you know it I'm a Warlord! or an Emperor! with no actual power to back up my position!”  Giving Shanks a look somewhere between misery and murder, he mutters, “You have no idea what it's like.”

“Mm, I don't know… people having a lot of undeserved expectations sounds pretty familiar to me.”  Shanks moves to fidget with the brim of a hat that he no longer owns.

“Oh come on,” Buggy scoffs.

“I mean it!  I was—Buggy, I was a child when the captain gave me that hat.  I wasn’t an exceptional pirate, or a prodigious fighter, or anything like that.  He didn’t give it to me to declare me his heir, he gave it to me because I was a kid on his ship, who thought his hat looked cool, and asked if I could wear it.”  A wry smile on his face, Shanks says, “The difference between me and you is I learned how to work around expectations, instead of being dragged in their wake.”

“There are way more differences between us than just that,” Buggy mutters.  “Like number of functioning arms.  Or braincells.”

“Oh, yeah,” Shanks says, faux-thoughtfully.  Beckman quietly braces himself.  Buggy bristles; he clearly recognizes that tone too.  “Underwater, I guess I do have more of those than you.”

“Barely!”  Buggy snaps.  Beckman takes the opportunity to grab the clothing Buggy had started to neglect during this conversation and pass it along to a crewman already headed for to the laundry.  He has a feeling Buggy’s charming personality won’t become more bearable if he drops his only outfit overboard while he’s distracted.  “And who the hell asked you to anyway?!  You’ve got a ship full of people who obey your orders, supposedly, why didn’t one of them, with the proper number of arms for rescue swimming, pull me out?!”

Shanks blinks.  “What do you mean, ‘who the hell asked me to?’  You asked me to.”

Buggy blinks.  Then blushes.

Yes, Beckman realizes, thinking back, that cry that first drew Shanks’ attention had sounded a bit like his name.

“I—that was—“ Buggy visibly fails to think of another word he could have possibly said in that moment.  He snatches away Shanks’ towel to bury his head under it and sigh, “An old reflex.”

Shanks crouches down, taking the towel back and running it over Buggy’s hair with more care than he’d given his own.  “After all this time, you still trust me to keep you from drowning.”  He waits for Buggy to look at him before saying, “How could I do anything less than honor that trust?”

Beckman feels, far from the first time, like he's interrupting something here.  The last time he’d asked, Shanks had just laughed.  Which was, he’d thought at the time, a very roundabout but unambiguous answer to the question.  Looking at Buggy’s face now, Beckman thinks he understands why.  Whatever it is he’s interrupting here, Buggy is aware of it too, and he’s terrified of it.

Poor Shanks.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (5)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Cowboy / Wild West AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

“Sweetie, you already had your night shift turn. Are you sure you want to do it again?” Your father questioned you. 

You gave him a bright smile, trying your best to act the part. “Of course it’s fine. Really. I want to spend the time alone. I’ll be fine.”

Your father squinted his eyes, moving to say something else but your mother stopped him. “I have to go make dinner soon, dear. I’m sure (Y/N) will be just fine.” She gave you a teasing smile over your dad’s shoulders. “Besides there are two nice police officers staying on the first floor should there be trouble.”

You grimace but immediately grinned when both of your parents looked at you. While your mother seemed to be thinking something else, her words eased your father. “Alright. Be careful. We will see you in the morning.”

You gave them both hugs goodbye, waving at them from the door. When they made it out the back and began their trek to your family home, you turned back around and began your night chores. 

You noticed you tried to finish them quickly, wanting to reach a specific room quicker than normal. You were thankful for the patrons not wanting many things which allowed you freetime to get to where you wanted. 

When you had done what you needed to, you waited outside the door for a moment, trying to build up the courage to knock. You raised your hand before you chickened out and rapped your knuckles along the wood. 

Jongho opened up the door, allowing you room to walk in. The other man was sitting in the chair you often occupied while speaking with Yeosang who seemed to be conscious. 

“You’re awake.” You called to him. He gave you a breathtaking smile in return.

“Yes, thanks to the medicine.” He answered. “All I need now is to clean the rest of the wound. The pills left should be enough to aid the healing process for the next few days.”

You nodded your head quickly, moving to unwrap the man from the sheets that were stained red. “I’ll help you with that.” 

“We’re going to go see the others.” The tall officer spoke to you two. “We’ll be back in a moment.”

“If you so much as do anything-”

“I don’t need wanted criminals to be on the hunt for me or my family.” You spoke up, not daring to look at the two. Yeosang had a grin on his face as he listened to your conversation. He just knew each of his friends who would have trouble befriending you. 

Yunho looked to Yeosang, getting a nod in return. “Do be careful.”

Yeosang noticed your fingers pause just for a moment before resuming the chore of removing his makeshift gauze. With the man conscious, he was able to move just the tiniest of bits to make the whole thing easier for you. 

You decided on washing his skin before addressing the wound. For now it was best to allow it to breathe some before closing it off once more. There was silence that both of you seemed to find no trouble in enjoying. However Yeosang took a few moments to take a look at you. 

It didn’t seem to bother you much to look at him with the top half of his clothing. You didn’t so much as seem phased with seeing his torso. Most women he had come across seemed to shy away from the advances his comrades gave them, giggling and blushing red. However he figured maybe things weren’t the same when you thought you were going to die. 

“They won’t kill you.” He expressed. 

You stopped wiping the rag along his collarbone, trying to fight off the smile from your face at hearing his deep voice. You could hear the small lisps he had which you found to be adorable. 

“I don’t think anyone would want to risk it.” You answered. “As I told your friend. We’re both walking on eggshells.”

Yeosang sighed, hands moving to the back of his head to give you space. “We’re not like that.”

There it was again, the way he spoke making it seem like everything he said was correct. At least in this case it might have been. He knew what to say to calm you down. He also wasn’t worried about giving away too much about his gang. 

“I believe you.” You told him. 

Yeosang took a moment to glance over your face, titling his head in thought. “Is that why you act the way you do? Because you know we won’t kill you?”

“Oh no. I wholeheartedly thought I would die at one point.” You shook your head. “You just have such sincerity in the way you speak that it calms me down.”

Yeosang pulled his lip into a thin line, his cheeks turning pink from the compliment. 

“Does my attitude bother you?” You asked him, continuing the rag down his chest. 

“I find it entertaining.”

You patted his chest, pursing your lips. There weren't many people who complimented you on the way you acted. Even your family would make jokes about the way you were. They didn’t shun you for it but you were still often the bunt of the jokes when it came to people talking about their children. 

‘Oh yes. It’s (Y/N) we are worried about. She is way too independent for her own good. Who knows if a man would be willing to marry her.’

It didn’t hurt to have them think that way. It’s not like they ever stressed you to go out and find someone. They weren’t people who forced their kids out of the house. Maybe it was because they had hands available to work in the hotel but they never outright expressed their thoughts about you leaving the house. 

“My family has always told me I was too independent. I guess I never grew out of it and it caused me to have a mouth.” You tried to joke. “Glad to know my personality tickles your funny bone.”

“I’ve been with the boys for a long while. Each has their own ways of talking to people. It’s enjoyable to watch them argue with someone else who they won’t beat to a pulp.” The man explained to you.

“Lucky me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m assuming you’re the one who avoids violence?”

“I’m part of a gang; it’s inevitable. I will say I enjoy the medicinal things a bit more.”

“I’ve been told.” You drop your rag into the water bowl, moving to get the medical supplies to clean his wound. “This might sting a little.”

Yeosang sucked in a deep breath when the cold solution of iodine touched his infected wound. It stung but nothing he couldn't handle. When you finished the disinfection, you moved onto the gauze. 

“Bear with me.” You told him, moving his body. He was able to lift his hips just enough to where you could roll the bandage under his torso. You were glad he was looking better at that point. You had no clue if you were going to be able to move him yourself. 

“Thank you.” Yeosang told you once you tightened the gauze. 

“You’re welcome.” You smiled down at him. 

“Yeosang.” He introduced himself. “My name is Yeosang.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with the look he gave you. It was warm, with a small smile playing on his lips. “Nice to meet you, Yeosang. I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to see you’re still here, Sweetheart.” Wooyoung stuck his head through the windowsill, grinning at the two of you. 

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes. Turning around in the chair, you noticed all seven of the men climb back through the window, each taking up space in the room once more. 

“I see you’re awake, Yeosang.” You moved out of the way, avoiding coming in contact with the blue haired man. 

While Yeosang told you they wouldn’t hurt you, he seemed to be the most hostile compared to the rest. At least when it came to his members. 

“All thanks to the girl, Captain.” Yeosang spoke up. 

“I brought you some food.” The one who hadn’t spoken to you yesterday grew closer to the bed with a plate in hand. “Jongho brought us a good amount of herbs and spices. Tried a new recipe.”

“Can you sit up?” Hongjoong asked. 

San and Wooyoung moved to either side of Yeosang, helping the man sit up a bit more in bed. You flinched and were about to reach out when you noticed the man’s pained expression. But it quickly was wiped from his face. 

“Thanks, Hwa.” Yeosang told the man as he spooned some food into his mouth. 

You watched as they all seemed to get comfortable, arguing over the order in which the shower was to be used. They all joked together and it brought a smile to your face to notice how close they actually were. There was a lot you were missing to their story, but watching them you wouldn’t think they were criminals. 

“I’ll take my leave.” You spoke up when they all settled down after Mingi had walked into the bathroom. Just as you were going to turn, a voice spoke up from the middle of the room. 

“Thank you.” Hongjoong called out.

“No problem.” You answered. With one last glance at all the men, you moved the door open. Before walking out though, you spoke over your shoulder. “I do hope you know I’m going to charge extra for the stained sheets.

“What!?”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara ,

[crack-art-n-stuff]

Obedient Service Dog

The corkboard was covered with papers, little notes, and maps. There were noted red pen marks crossing out one thing, circling another. It was a clear sign of the busy schedule ahead of you.

You crossed your arms as you looked over everything. Preparation for this heist took longer than you had liked, but you had a bit of a dislike for failure. Especially in areas of your expertise. You looked at the notes you made on security before moving that gaze to the lab map layout. Given the jackpot inside, the security personnel could be using different weaponry so as not to misfire near the chemicals, no?

"Boss, are you still looking over it?" A smooth voice came from behind you. "You should rest before this job."

Turning your head sideways, you noticed a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. "Didier. I could say the same to you."

Your loyal second in command took soft steps forward until he stood beside you. Both of you turned your gazes back at the map. You were aware you were prepared. It was clear in everything you were doing. Slowly, you just realized the small ache in your head. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Didier's attention was quickly on you.

"Boss, have you ever considered that you may be a workaholic?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "Pot, meet Kettle."

You turned taking firm steps moved from the board to a nearby chair. He wasn't wrong, though. When was the last time you rested? You had recently been jumping from job to job, growing your reputation. Though, you wouldn't necessarily call it all your fault. If that damn hero wasn't around to cause you so much trouble, you believe you would rest a lot easier. Didier was also aware of that, rest assured.

Moving to stand before you, he kneeled on one knee. Even before he chose you, Didier had always had a bit of an ego. He was firm about what was and wasn't beneath him, and bowing down to anyone was, without a doubt, something that spat on his pride.

Anyone except you, of course.

He held his gaze down, with eyes unwavering, ready for anything you asked. If you told him to burn the world down for you, he'd ask if you would like s'mores after. If you wanted someone's head on a platter, he'd ask medium or well done. He was your ever-obedient service dog, following any command or action you needed of him. Nothing you could ever ask of him could ever be too much. He always had the will to find a way for you.

You slowly lifted your foot, ever so gently lifting his chin. His head obeyed without restraint, lifting his eyes to yours. It was something else, in his eyes. You both knew this thought well.

You don't NEED him.

But having him made your life easier.

It was a normal transaction for you. For him, it meant so much more. You could've chosen anyone on this earth. So many must have been tripping over themselves to be at your mercy, no? At least, they should've. But you trusted him enough to keep him by your side. It was a bit strange, your new norm with him. He always seemed to be there, as natural as a shadow. It gave you a feeling similar to stability rather than eeriness. However, you never got too comfortable. Should he abandon you like those before, you would still function properly.

Unknown to you, Didier would never abandon you. Even in death.

With a power like his, he was confident in his ability to make that so.

This was terrifying to him, at first. This obsession, desperation of and for you. It was a compulsion he was never about to fight. But he came to accept it. It had come to the point where, in his heart, you were akin to a deity. He couldn't breathe or process the world without you, anymore. To most, this state of vulnerability would be terrifying. The thought that you wanted your heart to beat for another, to breathe air for another, to use your hands and feet to deliver anything for another. But didn't want to do anything other than to do them for you and only you.

As you calmly stared down at him, you could see the look in his eyes. Was it passion? Determination? Love?

In truth, you constantly struggled to name that look in his eyes, but you could somewhat define it. It was as uncontained as a wildfire but as bottomless as an abyss. It sucked in everything around him yet reached out to you in such a forlorn fashion. There was so much, yet barely any words to describe it.

Gently, he held your ankle and foot before dipping his chin down to delicately leave a kiss on the tip of your shoe.

"Please rest, Boss. I will make sure everything goes according to your plans. Please comfortably rest your mind."

He always was a man of his word. By any means necessary.

[doobnnoob-tf2]

The mercs on a road trip to who knows where. What are they each doing?

🧌

we're taking this vehicle-by-vehicle, so buckle up

ENGINEER'S TRUCK

Driver: Engineer

Passengers: Soldier, Demoman

Engineer insists he be taking the lead, and asks Demoman to man the map for him. he marked the path in pencil and didn't realize how many times both Demoman and Soldier would erase parts of it and redraw the line to take detours at first. he catches on by the third time they take an exit that made no sense at all and pulls over to demand he look at the map. this also started an argument between him and Sniper who wanted to just take the lead because he didn't need a map

Demoman sits in the passenger's seat, with the map. he mostly watches the world go by, occasionally attempting to reach over and turn the radio on, but would get his hand smacked because Engineer didn't want it on while he's trying to concentrate on the road. he and Soldier end up playing road games like I Spy, or their personal favorite: Punch Buggy. much to Engineer's dismay

Soldier takes the middle seat that is revealed when the center console is flipped up. he was told not to sit there but he did anyway. the reason being is he can't not shove his arm in front of Engineer's face to point out something on the side of the road. he also has snacks galore and there are crumbs everywhere that he says he'll clean out on their next stop but he doesn't. instead he runs inside the gas station to go get more and leaves Engineer to do it

MEDIC'S (stolen) VAN

Driver: Heavy

Passengers: Pyro, Medic

Heavy is the only choice for driver, not that he minds. Pyro can't drive, and no matter what Medic tries to say he legally is not allowed to drive. whether or not he stole the vehicle. he is a very serious driver and tends to dislike distractions of any kind, which is why he's glad there is no radio in the van. he follows behind Engineer, staying as close as he can to avoid losing sight of him without being too close

Medic reluctantly sits in the only passenger seat. he isn't happy about it and pouts for a good while at the beginning of the drive, but eventually he stops caring. he hates the silence and wants to talk, and after several attempts he finally annoys Heavy enough to get him to talk just so he'll stop poking at his face to get his attention. he relaxes more as Heavy starts to relax and chat with him, the two mostly trying to figure out where they hell they're even going since Engineer planned the whole trip and wouldn't tell anyone

Pyro stole Medic's office chair and sat it in the back of the van without anyone noticing. they duct taped themself to it and unlocked the rolling wheels do they could sit and roll around during the whole drive. it's during one of the gas stops that Heavy and Medic open the back and find out when they're trying to ask them if they want a snack. they have to be cut free from the tape, and someone helps them find a belt to use instead that'll be easier for them to get themself free from during stops

SNIPER'S CAMPERVAN

Driver: Sniper

Passengers: Scout, Spy

Sniper has one rule: driver controls the radio. he rolls the windows all the way down and blasts metal music as loud as he can during the whole drive. much to the annoyance of everyone around them, not that he cares. he sings along to it or gripes about how he could have made the drive so much more interesting than long stretches of boring highway and still got them there in good time. though after some time, the other two vehicles they're with notices the music has faded away, and Sniper's taken the other two on a different road trip. Spy's suggestion after Scout noticed some kind of oddities road sign

Spy sits on the other end of the bench in the cab of the camper, mostly reading a book and drumming his fingers along to the music on the outside of the door he's leaned against. however, when he gets tired of that, he puts the book away and starts egging Sniper on to just speed past everyone since they're the only three vehicles on the road. it takes a couple minutes of back and forth before he finally talks him into disobeying the rules of the road and pissing off Engineer as he zooms past loudly several times, taking over the radio when Engineer calls it to speak only in French before changing the frequency

Scout loves taking road trips with Sniper and Spy, always sitting in the middle of the bench. he knows it always starts with Sniper driving safe and eventually relenting to Spy's insistence that he could speed up. he loves the adrenaline rush of hearing the engine roar and the loud music. it's one of the few times he's quiet because he enjoys the banter between the two he's sitting in between when they both finally decide to let loose. especially when Spy starts getting into the music as well