#are sterling cigarettes strong

[fourmoony]

Friends or What?

James Potter x F!Reader

A coming of age story in which Potter's Corner Shop has a funny way of bringing people together. Falling in love is daunting when everyone is watching.

Ao3 Link (chapters will be uploaded here the day before Tumblr).

CW: For Chapter One, the content warnings include: Use of the word 'fag', but in context to a cigarette (UK slang) Foul language A minor using the word 'shagging' Smoking/Drinking alcohol A comment about hoping someone chokes Threat of caving someone's head in with a baseball bat (it's lighthearted, I swear) Implied internalised homophobia Mentions of fighting

Please be aware that this fic will contain multiple hard to read scenes, and I completely understand, if because of this, you choose not to read :) it's a coming of age fic, while there'll be lots of fluff and happy moments, there'll also be lots of hard, uncomfortable moments, too. Please, please, do not make yourself uncomfortable.

CHAPTER ONE (7k) -

Sirius is stocking the fag drawers, behind the counter, when you come in through the shop door. The little bell above the wooden frame dings to announce your arrival. Sirius doesn’t turn upon hearing the bell, nor does he acknowledge there’s even anyone in the shop. You follow his lead, heading up the sweetie aisle, wiggling your fingers as you go, lips puckered in anticipation as you search of the cherry lollies you know were delivered this morning. Whether or not Sirius has bothered to unload the pallet yet is a strong factor in whether you’ll find them sitting where they’re supposed to be. Your eyes scan the shelves, there are no cherry lollies to be found. No worries, you think, picking up a fashion magazine as you pass the stand.

You walk the loop of the shop, hear the bell ding in the distance signal someone else has come in. It smells like newspapers and the inside of the fridges that line the back wall of the shop; the radio crackles through tinny speakers, playing the UK Top 40 and you just know Sirius is hating every minute of it. When you approach the till, Sirius still has his head in the fag drawer, whistling along to his own song, radio be damned.

“You didn’t put the cherry lollies out, lazy arse,” you say.

Sirius jumps, turns as though you might be standing there with a balaclava and machete, ready to demand he open and empty the till. He rolls his eyes when his brain catches up with the situation, head bobbing to the left where the storeroom door sits, a pale blue, creaky thing that drives everyone insane on stock days with its constant whine every time it opens and closes, “Help yourself.”

The storeroom is cold and dark, but spacious, with piles of overflow stock lined up against the walls, organised into specific sections. It’s almost scary how neat it is. There’s a pallet in the middle of it all, wrapped in black plastic that’s been ripped at the top; likely Sirius taking the fags out. You scan the pile with a frown, knowing it’ll be an annoying game of Jenga trying to find the lollies without pulling everything else down with them. It takes a while, and a bit of rearranging, but you find the tub and return to Sirius with a triumphant smile. The customer that followed you in is filing out the door, so you allow Sirius to scan your items and give him the money.

“You should be about halfway through that pallet by now, it’s gone one in the afternoon, you know.” You chastise Sirius playfully.

He scowls when you sit on the counter beside the till one leg curled up and tucked underneath you, the other swinging back and forth, kicking and wobbling the specials display underneath the till. He knows he’s not getting rid of you any time soon when you flip open your magazine, unwrap your lolly, and stick it in your mouth.

“It showed up late. Problem with a road closure, or something.” Sirius replies, turning back to the drawer.

He rips open a packet of Sterling Duals and starts stuffing them into the drawer. You hum, amused, “That what you’re going to tell Effie?”

Sirius scoffs, an air of arrogance to him when he looks over his shoulder, long, black hair flicking with the movement, “It’s the truth. Plus, Effie never shouts at me. You know this.”

“Perks of being the boss’s son.”

Sirius seems to preen at your jab over his nepotism. He’s always very happy to be known as Euphemia and Fleamont Potter’s son. You don’t know much about his situation, just that the Potter’s took Sirius in when he was sixteen and none of them ever looked back. He’s happy and he’s cared for, and he seems to love being their son. So, you don’t ask. It’s none of your business, anyway.

The bell dings again and you and Sirius both look over out of habit. You have to lean past the roll stand to your left to fully see who’s came in, but when you catch sight of James, your grin grows wider. James Potter is Euphemia and Fleamont’s son. Biological son. Granted, that doesn’t matter with the way Effie fawns over Sirius like he was the biological one. She claims to love them the same. You secretly think Sirius is the favourite, though you have no idea why. He’s an insufferable shit, most of the time. James is nice. He’s bright and always happy, a proper ray of sunshine which, on the bad days, can be a little annoying.

It’s rather hard to be angry at the world when James Potter is standing there with his stupidly pretty grin and his big brown eyes, spouting such optimism into the world that things just start to feel better because he says they will.

“Delivery came late, mate. Just got it half an hour ago.” Sirius doesn’t even greet his best friend with a ‘Hello’, just moves straight onto damage control over the fact he’s still restocking the fag counter at one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Don’t listen to him, Jamie,” You say, popping the cherry lolly out of your mouth to talk properly, “He’s a dirty liar. Lazy arse, too.”

James laughs, approaches where you’re perched on the counter and stands so close you can smell his aftershave. It’s a bit of a cliché, honestly; fancying your boss’s son. Well, really, he’s your friend before he’s Effie and Monty’s son. You’ve always been friends. Since before you started working at the shop. Since school, really. But still. The cliché sits a little clunky in your chest sometimes. Especially when he looks as handsome as he does, today. He’s wearing his rugby jumper and a pair of joggies. Really, it’s nothing special. But he looks so soft. So cosy. His hair is all mussed up from the wind and his glasses are a little squint.

You reach out a manicured finger to push them further up his nose and he smiles down at you. Yeah, you think, pathetic.

“Are you here to work or cause trouble?” James asks with a teasing smile whilst Sirius sputters at your accusations.

“I can multitask, you know,” is your reply, words sweet as honey, “But to answer your question, no, sadly I am not here to work.”

“And yet you’re still here, annoying me with your presence.” Sirius mumbles.

You roll your eyes, turn to James with pouted lips, “See the way he talks to me?”

In James’s defence, he plays the game. See how far you can push each other before the other gets flustered and has to walk away. Last week he gave you a taste of your own medicine so bad that you had to stand in the stock room like an idiot for five minutes counting tins of beans until your face returned to its normal colour. You’re good at putting up a front, acting like whatever the two of you are doing doesn’t effect you, that you’re cool, calm, and collected about the whole thing. But the tins of beans in the stock room would tell a different story, could they talk. You’re glad they can’t, as silly as that thought is.

James, bless him, humours you – much to Sirius’ dismay – and coos, brows furrowed in mock-sympathy, “Poor soul.”

“Okay, fine, if this was your plan to get me to do the pallet, I’ll go.” Sirius finally breaks, hands held up in surrender.

It wasn’t your plan, but you watch him leave with an amused smile.

“The road into the village was shut, I know the delivery was actually late.” James laughs to himself.

“Hm,” You hum, ditching your magazine to the side and swinging your legs over the counter until you’re standing behind it, “Me too.”

“Thought you weren’t working today.”

You shrug, picking up where Sirius left off with the fags, your back turned to James, “I’ll do these and then I’ll be off.”

“Thanks.” James rounds the counter the normal way, punching his clock in card on the machine beside the till.

You look up, find him leaning against the counter by his hip, a small smile on his face. He’s so charming, you think.

“Don’t thank me,” You warn, the ghost of a mischievous smirk dancing across your face, “I’m putting them all in backwards, so he has to redo them all.”

“You know how he gets about the fag drawers,” James groans, because he knows he has to spend the rest of the day listening to Sirius gripe about whatever it is you’re about to do. “They’re his… area.”

“Yeah, well,” You shrug, “He didn’t put the cherry lollies out.”

James doesn’t have an answer for that. He just huffs a laugh and reaches for a packet to open and starts to pass you them.

-----

‘The Saturday Girls’, or so they’re nicknamed, are nice. They’re so coined because they only work Saturdays to help with unloading the bulk of the delivery that comes that morning. It’s a weekend job, perfect for them because they’re still in school, and it offers them a bit of pocket money. It would’ve been a dream job for you at fifteen, but Shauna and Lisa sometimes seem like having to work a shift in Potter’s Corner Shop is the bane of their entire teenage existence. Like now, Shauna stands leaning up against the end of the third aisle, passing Lisa packages of toilet rolls off the trolley with a sardonic look on her face.

You can hear them talking about a girl in their form class, how she’s after Shauna’s boyfriend and it brings unwanted flash backs of being that age, that naïve, when the idea of someone stealing your boyfriend felt like the end of the world. Really, they should have a trolley each, working on separate aisles. But you don’t get paid enough to boss them around; and if Shauna’s insults to whatever girl is trying to steal her man are anything to go by, you don’t actually want to be on her bad side.

Sirius has taken a falling out with the fag drawers since your ruin of them, yesterday, and so you’ve spent the better part of the morning facing them all the correct way. There’s a box of clipper lighters on the floor at your feet to be unloaded, too.

“I’m too scared to tell them that putting toilet roll on the shelves isn’t a two-woman job,” James appears behind you following the nerve grating squeak from the storeroom door, leaning on the counter with a lopsided smile.

He’s placed the clipboard with all of today’s stock details on the counter, pen tucked neatly under the clip of it. You know he’s here for your signature, cutting the job in half for you by doing the inventory himself. He likes numbers, you hate them, he’s happy to do it so long as he doesn’t have to fix the mess you created in the fag drawers. Besides Sirius, you’re the only person to be trusted in Sirius’ sacred area. Ironically enough. You pick the pen up with a hum, scribbling your name to state you were here when the delivery arrived this morning, “Some poor girl in their form is getting it tight, today. Shauna thinks she’s after her man.”

James laughs airily, “So I shouldn’t go over there and intervene?”

“Best not. I’ll come up with something I need help with in five, ask her to help me. Just need to finish these, first.” You say, waving a packet of JPS Red around so James knows what you’re talking about.

“Thanks,” Is James’ reply, “For the signature and for saving me from getting called a daft bint, or something, behind my back.”

Your laugh is bubbly and comes out of your mouth so fast you don’t have time to be embarrassed about it. It makes James laugh, too, low, and throaty as he taps the pen against the clipboard. He shakes his head and makes his retreat to the office at the back of the storeroom, likely to file the inventory sheet for Monty to look over on Monday. It only takes you a few more minutes to fix the rest of the fags, all in their correct places, all facing the correct way. The clippers are unloaded haphazardly into the tub in the bottom drawer, and then you’re off, on the hunt for Shauna.

She and Lisa have made it to the baby wipes when you come down the aisle that they’re in. Shauna is leaning against the trolley now that she doesn’t have the wall at the end of the aisle to lean on, and she’s passing Lisa the packets one by one. Lisa has her head ducked into the shelf to reach all the way to the back, but Shauna straightens up when she sees you round the corner.

“Hey, you okay to help me build some stuff up in the storeroom to get it off the pallet?” You ask.

There’s an empty box on the trolley that you reach for, pulling it apart until it’s flat and you can stick it inside the bag on the back of the trolley. Shauna gives a longing glance to Lisa, as though being parted from her will bring her physical pain. It’s quite comical, really. A small part of you misses being so young and carefree. Shauna nods, following you to the storeroom.

James is holding the door open on your way past, “I’ll keep an eye on the till.”

You thank him and Shauna follows you through. There’s not much to be unloaded, really. You and James got the majority done this morning when it arrived, and so its overstock that’s left. Shauna follows your lead, knowing by now where everything goes. There’s cereal and biscuits, teabags and coffee jars, there’s alcohol and fizzy juice. Shauna doesn’t talk much while you work, which isn’t surprising. She’s rather quiet and subdued with the rest of the staff, most of the time. Without Lisa to bounce off of, Shauna doesn’t usually say much.

“How long have you and James been together?” Shauna asks out of nowhere.

It’s less surprising to hear her starting conversation than the question she’s actually asked, which is saying something. The box of ready salted crisps in your hands go toppling backwards from where you’d been reaching to put them on top of the pile as you twist to face her, eyebrows somewhere near your hairline. The girl looks nonplussed, lifting a crate of Red Stripe and placing it with the other alcohol against the wall closest to the door.

“Sorry?”

You can’t quite find the words, brain reeling at a mile a minute because have other people noticed whatever game you and James are playing and assumed you’re together? That’s incredibly embarrassing and unprofessional. Shauna doesn’t seem to notice your confusion as she barrels on, seemingly in her own world, “It’s just cause, me and this boy from school have been going out for, like, a month, yeah?”

She doesn’t actually wait for your response as she picks up another crate of beer and sticks it on top of the pile she’s created, “And this girl from my form keeps trying to text him. He’s told me he’s ignoring her, but I dunno if I believe him.”

“Right.” You say, a bit dazed, trying to keep up with what she’s saying whilst trying to put together what this would have to do with you and James.

“I guess I’m just wondering what you’d do if it was another girl trying to get with James. Like, would you go barmy?” Shauna asks, and you can tell there’s a hint of insecurity in there somewhere.

Picking up the crisps you’d dropped rather ungracefully, you tell her, “Well, James and I aren’t together. Like, at all. But if it was someone I really liked, I’d be a bit upset, I suppose. If he says he isn’t replying, I’d believe him until he gives you a reason not to.”

Shauna seems pleased with that answer, but feels the need to add, “Anyone would think you and James are together. Or, at the very least, shagging.”

There’s really nothing you can say to that, is there? It knocks the wind out of you, flusters you, and concerns you all at once. What do fifteen-year-olds know about shagging? Well, you suppose it’s all your friends wanted to talk about at fifteen, too. But. Well. No. Just, no.

“Right,” Shauna breaks your flustered silence by dusting her hands on the side of her trousers, “That it, then?”

Right enough, the pallet is empty. You open your mouth to talk but find nothing will come out, so you close it and nod. She files out of the storeroom after shooting you a weird glance but doesn’t feel the need to add anything more. You count tins of beans until your brain decides it can function again.

“The Saturday Girls have got to go.” You tell James when you slip behind the till ten minutes later.

He breaks his focus from the screen the security camera’s run on, eyebrows narrowed in concern, “She said something?”

You wave your hand, 'nothing too bad', it signals, “Asked how long we’ve been shagging.”

James promptly chokes on air, pounds his chest a few times with wide eyes. You wonder if you should be offended, or if he’s just genuinely surprised Shauna was so brass necked about the whole ordeal. You settle on a nod and a placating look, exactly, you think.

“She’s like, twelve.”

Huffing a laugh, you correct him, “Fifteen, actually. But still, I dropped a box of crisps, nearly toppled the whole tower I was so gobsmacked.”

“What,” James laughs after, “at the suggestion of shagging me, or her boldness?”

If there’s one thing James Potter knows how to do, it’s get under your skin. He’s wearing that signature knowing smirk, the one he wears when he’s thinking something mischievous, or he knows exactly what you’re thinking, feeling, like he can see right into your soul. He’s a prick, you decide. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The thing is: this game is slowly spiralling into more than you can handle. It’d started as an easy way to irritate Sirius, then an even easier way to make the boring shifts go in quicker, then it was just fun. Watching the way his tongue pokes the side of his cheek when he’s considering a rebuttal, or trying to hide a smile, the way his jaw clenches when you come in on your days off wearing tight clothes, only to perch yourself on the edge of the counter and promptly tease him all day. It’s fun. But now it’s too much. James is too much. Because at the start, he’d get shy and flustered, brush you off in a polite manner. But now. Well, now he’s an evil shit who likes to make you weak and hot and bothered and all of the in-betweens every chance he gets.

“Jamie,” You smile, sweet as honey, eyes doe-like and offering him the challenge, “You couldn’t handle me.”

The minute James shakes his head, hair flopping to the side, tongue pushed into his cheek, you know you’ve won this round. He slinks off to find another job for Shauna to do, who you can see on the security cameras has gone back to passing Lisa things off of the trolley.

Twenty-six tins of beans. There are twenty-six tins of beans in the storeroom.

-----

The rota goes like this: Monday: Monty, open. You and James, close. Tuesday: Sirius and James, open. Remus, close. Wednesday: Effie, open. Monty, close. Thursday: Remus and James, open. You and Sirius, close. Friday: Sirius, open. Effie, close. Occasionally James, close. Saturday: You and James, open. Effie and Monty, close. Sunday: Monty, open. You and Remus, close.

The open shift runs from seven o’clock in the morning, until two in the afternoon, and the close shift runs from two o’clock in the afternoon, until ten o’clock at night. Potter’s is the only shop in the village open until ten, and it’s a busy shop because of this. Probably, also, because the Potters are well known, well liked, and well respected.

But the main thing to note about the rota is that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are never scheduled to work a shift together. Ever. The simple reason is because they don’t get on. Like, despise each other for a reason that is unbeknownst to you, and even James, who is Sirius’ best friend in the entire world, his brother. Personally, you think their beef is pointless. But the delivery driver who dropped off the Saturday pallet five months ago and ended up having to break up a petty argument between the two would likely disagree. Apparently, some harsh words had been said between the two, and after the Potter’s decided Sirius was just as much an instigator as Remus was easy to snap, and that both of them were irreplaceable as workers, the new rota was made, stapled to the office wall, never to be changed, and with their names never beside each other.

It’s strange, to you, because Sirius and Remus are both lovely. You enjoy working with both of them. Separately, of course. They seem to know that in the situation of their hatred of each other, you and James are both Switzerland. You’ll listen to them rant about each other, sympathise with their feelings, but ultimately add nothing of note to the conversation. Sometimes you think that bothers them more. Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding their hatred of each other every Saturday in the pub, but they’ve become increasingly better at tolerating each other’s presence. It no longer ends in one or the other storming out of the pub or offering to meet each other outside for a scrap. Small wins. You’ve no idea where they get the energy to put so much effort into their animosity towards each other. A small part of you actually thinks they enjoy getting each other riled up to the point of snapping, the same way you and James do, just with more insults and less innuendos. Each to their own, you suppose.

Remus has his foot kicked up against the wall with a fag in his hand when you near the shop door. He’s staring across the road at the small play park, looking rather lost. There’s a group of kids on the swings, laughing and chatting away. They’re young looking. Ten, maybe eleven. When he notices you, Remus seems to snap out of whatever daydream he’s in, eyes softening and his lips turning upward into a smile. It pulls at the scar slicing across his cupids bow, taught, but paling out at the stretch. There’s a number of scars that litter Remus’ skin, the product of a nasty car crash he was in as a child. You don’t notice them as much, now, as when he first started working at Potter’s. They’re just part of who he is, and they make him no less handsome.

“Here even on your day off,” Remus tsks, passes you the cigarette.

You have a draw, blowing out the smoke with the ghost of a teasing smile on your lips, “Someone’s got to mind the till on your eighteen fag breaks.”

Remus laughs, accepting of the jab, “Monty’s in today. Shops not totally unmanned.”

“Ah,” You hum, passing him the fag back, “Unusual for him. He usually runs off the minute his shift finishes.”

He nods, sandy hair flopping in a mess of curls on top of his head. “Something about having to find a new supplier, the drivers for Zonko’s are complaining about having to drive into the village.” Remus speaks through an exhale, the wind carrying the smoke along the street.

He flicks the fag to the ground and follows you inside, finding his place behind the till whilst you meander down the aisles, still content in having the conversation, “That’s ridiculous. It’s only fifteen minutes off the motor way.”

Remus makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t say anything else until you return to the till with a cherry lolly and a magazine. He looks at your purchases with an enhanced non-surprised glance, eyes flicking up to ask with a simple look if you could be any more predictable. You shrug, hand him a fiver, and he passes you your change.

“Think they’re just annoyed because the only road into the bloody place is always closed because that daft Mr. Filch keeps forgetting to shut his gate and the cows always escape.” Remus comments, closing the till.

You take up your usual space, to the left of the till, leg tucked under you, subconsciously kicking the specials stand with your free foot. The customers are never surprised to find you sitting here. Most of them often comment that you’re like the store’s very own cat. Always lurking, happy to sit, and watch the people go about their days. Really, you just like to annoy whoever is working. Unless it’s Effie or Monty. They usually put you to work if you hang around for too long.

“They should really just bolt that bloody fence shut. He’s always losing his cows.”

“He does it on purpose. I don’t know why, yet, but he does.” Remus theorises, his brows furrowed as though it’s some great mystery as to why old Argus Filch is always letting his cows run free, as though he has some ulterior motive.

Perhaps he does. You’ve never given it much thought.

“They should switch to Ollivander’s, anyway. I’ve been telling them for months that they’re better priced. Plus, they’re closer, the delivery charge wouldn’t be as much.” You say, eyes scanning the pages of your magazine.

The cherry lollypop rattles off your back teeth, something you know drives Remus insane. You don’t stop.

“They don’t stock Pettigrew’s butcher meat, though.” Remus counters.

Pettigrew’s Butchers is the most sought-after Butcher meat in the village, and Potter’s is the only place that stock it. It’s what drives in most of the customers, you’d argue. It’s good meat. You’ll give them that. It’s why Effie and Monty have been hesitant to drop Zonko’s as their distributor because they’ll lose their access to Pettigrew’s. Truly a conundrum in the eyes of the village. You flick to the next page, shrugging, “It’s only a forty-minute drive out of the village. Wouldn’t Pettigrew deliver it himself?”

“What, every morning?”

You sigh, long and suffering. This conversation is, truly, boring. You love Remus. You do. Really. But you miss Sirius. Or James. Remus seems off, today. He’s less humorous, less sarcastic. You won’t push. You know he doesn’t like that. But you shouldn’t have to suffer the world’s most boring conversation because of it. Perhaps that’s selfish of you.

“Zonko’s doesn’t even deliver to us, every morning. Just have Pettigrew's tie in with the days we get from Ollivander’s.” You suggest, though, you know there’s nothing Remus can do about it.

It’s a conversation best had with Monty or Effie. Even James. But they’re smart. They’ll likely figure it out on their own. You hop off the counter, pulling the lolly from your mouth as you go, “Either way, it’s going to be a shit few weeks if we don’t have a distributor. I need to go, meeting Sirius for a cuppa at the Leaky.”

You wince as soon as the words come out of your mouth, watching as Remus’ expression falls.

“Hope he chokes on his cuppa.” Remus mutters, though a saccharine smile comes across his lips.

You roll your eyes, pointer finger already aimed at him, “Behave!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, though you know behaving is the last thing Remus Lupin will ever do when it comes to Sirius Black. It’s ridiculous.

“Give Monty my love.” You say in ways of a goodbye and Remus waves you off.

You pretend not to hear when he tells you to give Sirius the middle finger for him.

-----

“You’re a genius, you know.” Sirius says, sitting your drink down in front of you.

The pub is, strangely, quite quiet. There’s a family of four in the far corner, eating a meal in stoic silence – awkward – and a group of older women by the bar, a bottle of champagne in an ice cooler on the table and bubbling glasses in each of their hands. Of course, you and Sirius were the last to arrive, meeting the rest of your friends at the only large table the Three Broomstick’s own, which lead to him shooing you off to get a seat and buying your drink for you. You won’t complain. Your regular table is already a mess of empty pint glasses from James, Remus, and Frank, and two empty wine bottles from Lily, Mary, and Marlene. Alice is on nightshift at the police station, a lucky feat for everyone because it means there’ll be no tequila shots tonight. Fine by you.

It’s a long table that you all occupy, with two benches running along either side, and no matter how busy the pub is, people always seem to know not to sit there. None of you would mind if they did, really. But it’s just something people don’t do. Your group has been coming to the Three Broomsticks since you were seventeen (not that Rosmerta, the owner, knows that), minus Remus, who moved to town seven months ago, wandered in for a pint one night, and unfortunately for him, got stuck with you lot.

“Mm,” You hum, cheeks puffing out in your pleased smile, “I know. Do feel free to tell me why, though.”

Sirius guffaws, rolling his eyes at your theatrics – as though he isn’t the carbon copy of you, just in male form – “For the Ollivander’s idea. Well, tying it in with Pettigrew’s, at least.”

“What?”

You hadn’t told anyone about that idea. Anyone other than Remus, at least, who looks incredibly sheepish when your eyes flick to him further along the table, conveniently out of arms reach of Sirius. James, who swallows a gulp of his pint before he speaks, looks incredibly cheerful when he says, “Yeah! Dad loved that idea. He didn’t even consider asking Pettigrew’s for a private contract. He didn’t think they’d be up for driving into the village, but turns out the son, Peter, delivers to the next town over twice a week, anyway.”

“Right.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink to wash the awkward feeling that’s settled over you away.

Really, you hadn’t meant to form some type of master plan.

“Sorry.” Remus winces.

“Why’s he sorry?” Sirius is quick to question, ever the one to start an argument, “What’s he done now?”

Remus scoffs, “Funny you think I’ve done something.”

“Well, you were the one apologising.”

“He’s not done anything, Sirius. Give it a rest, both of you.”

That shuts them up.

“I told Monty about her idea after she left on Tuesday.” Remus admits, looking rather sheepish.

Sirius seems placated enough with his answer, so he shrugs and enters into a conversation with Frank and James, who lost interest the minute Remus and Sirius started bickering. You assure Remus that it’s okay, waving him off before nudging your head further down the table, inviting him into the conversation with Lily, Mary, and Marlene.

Lily is complaining about her job in the council office. She’s pretty high up, though, you couldn’t for the life of you tell someone what it is she actually does, had they asked. Something to do with the local MP. There’s a shit tonne of paperwork and multiple people who Lily thinks are, in her words, so far up their own arse, they forget they’re civil servants and not, in fact, the be all and end all of the world. Her job is highly stressful, as is obvious by the empty bottle of wine in front of her, even though it’s not long gone five o’clock. Lily Evans worked incredibly hard to be where she is, though, the fireball of a human that she is, and she’ll be damned to ever give up, now. You admire her, really. She grew up in the village, like all of you except Remus, noticing the prejudice it held, the unfair situations people lived in, the real issues the place held, rather than what every other member of the council saw as ‘issues’, and she went to University, got her degree, came right back, and got to fucking work. She hasn’t solved world hunger yet, but you’re sure she’s well on her way to it. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’ll be Lily Evans.

Mary and Marlene are listening intently, especially Mary, who’s been begging the council to fund the one primary school the village has, Hogwarts, more substantially than it has in previous years. She’s a teacher there, and she loves it with every bit of her being, but the school is incredibly underfunded, so she and Lily have been working on a campaign to bring it to the Council’s attention. They’re making progress. But not as quick as Mary would like. That much is obvious in the way she rants about Lucius Malfoy and his pretentious, pompous, personality. He is a bit of a prick, honestly. He’s the head of the school board committee for the village, and he’s the main reason the school hasn’t received the funding it’s needed in almost ten years. He’s a toad.

Marlene, even though she couldn’t give less of a shit if she tried, is listening, anyway. She’s a good friend, Marlene, but past her friends, her family, and music, there isn’t much Marlene McKinnon really gives a toss about. You commend her for it really, her no-fucks-given attitude towards the world, the way she’s so carefree, and lives her life how she wants, no matter what. She’s laid back and honestly, doing better than the rest of your friends in adulthood. She’s the only one out of the lot of you who hasn’t had a full-scale meltdown, so far, this year. Or ever actually. You don’t remember the last time you saw Marlene truly upset about something.

“Honestly, Mary, you’d think he’d give more of a shit about funding things like the school’s library, considering his wife’s due any day now and his kid will likely attend Hogwarts.” Lily seems truly frustrated, her shoulder slumped, her index finger circling the rim of her wine glass.

“He’ll probably send his little demon spawn to some posh boarding school, knowing him. More money than bloody sense.” Comes Mary’s equally frustrated response.

She necks the rest of her glass in one gulp, shivers, and then sends Marlene off to procure another bottle. She goes without complaint, so you assume it’s her round.

“Surely it’s not legal to withhold funding from a school in such dire need of it.” Remus comments, ever the pessimist.

He thinks the worst of everyone. Especially Mr. Filch and his disappearing cows. He thinks he has an ulterior motive and he’ll die on that hill.

“Apparently there is no funding. And he won’t even push for any, either. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit that the school under his jurisdiction is struggling, majorly.” Lily replies, rolling her bright green eyes at the mere idea of Lucius Malfoy.

“There’s something not right about that.” You add, frowning.

Surely, he’d want his school to thrive. Apparently not.

“You’re telling me.” Mary pipes up.

“Anyway, enough work talk,” Lily says around a gulp of wine, waving her hand like it’ll banish all of the negative vibes Lucius has caused by simply existing, “How’d your date go with the handsome paper boy, Rem?”

Remus grimaces, “Don’t call him a paper boy, it makes him sound twelve years old.”

The story goes: Remus thought that someone was trying to break into his house, last month. Upon inspecting the situation with a baseball bat that everyone knows for a fact Remus does not know how to use, he met a rather startled, rather handsome paper boy named Christopher. Of course, Remus only learned this after he tried to cave the poor bloke’s head in with said baseball bat, only to find out that it was Christopher’s first day on the job and he had delivered the paper to the wrong house. After copious amounts of apologies, Remus had claimed he was fine with never seeing Christopher again. Until he realised that the paper’s he was delivering came directly from Potter’s. A travesty, really. Sirius howled with laughter, much to Remus’ dismay, and Effie had slipped an extra fiver into Christopher’s wages in ways of an apology. Turns out, no apology was needed, because Christopher, for whatever reason, took a liking to Remus and asked him out for coffee.

“Okay, your date with Christopher, then.” Lily corrects with a smirk.

“Wasn’t a date,” Remus singsongs, because he’s insecure and adamant that no one could ever fancy him. Even though you’ve already promised him that if he wasn’t painfully gay, you’d shag him. Lily had then felt the need to add in that if she wasn’t painfully gay, as well, she’d shag him, too. Still, he lives in denial. Idiot.

“Was too.” Marlene says, rather bluntly, returning with the wine which she passes to Mary.

She’s brought a glass for you, too, bless her. You finish the dregs of the drink Sirius bought you and accept the glass of wine Mary passes you with a ‘thank you’.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about.” Remus argues.

“Christopher. The hot paper boy whose skull you nearly caved in with a bat. Keep up, Remus.” Marlene winks at Remus, who simply huffs in defeat, taking a long swig of his pint.

“So?” Mary follows up, never one to let Remus catch a break. She’s almost as bad as Sirius, except she does it in a much more loving, much less spiteful way.

“It went well. We chatted about books.” Remus bobs his head, swallowing thickly.

Sirius is eyeing him from the other end of the table, lips twisted into a mean looking frown. It doesn’t last long before Frank is asking him something to do with motorbikes, and Remus is long forgotten. No one else catches it, so you ignore it.

“Books?” Marlene asks in disgust.

“You spoke about books.” Lily repeats, clearly trying to find some hidden meaning she’s not going to find. You know Remus well enough to know he likely did spend the entire date-that-wasn’t-a-date nattering on about books. He’s a bookworm at his core.

“Yes,” Remus confirms, slightly agitated, “We spoke about books.”

“Right,” Marlene sounds a little deflated, always one for the seedy stories, “Lovely.”

“It was, actually.”

“I’ll bet.”

Remus huffs a laugh and excuses himself under the premise of a cigarette. No one bats an eye, and you watch him leave. It takes Sirius approximately two minutes to excuse himself from his conversation with James and Frank and follow Remus straight out the door to the smoking area. James and Frank continue on, too engrossed to realise the shit show that’s likely to unfold any minute. Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall into a conversation about whatever show the three of them are watching and you stand up, walking around the table until you’re sitting next to James.

He smiles warmly when you sit down, shuffling a little so he can face both you, and Frank who’s across the table.

“Alright,” Frank greets, head tipping forwards.

“Hiya, Frank. How’s Alice?”

Alice is Frank’s wife. They grew up together but didn’t ever get together until they both attended Tulliallan when training to become police officers. They’re sickly in love, it’s actually kind of nauseating at times, but sweet, nonetheless. They’d been daft for each other since they were thirteen.

“She’s good. On nightshift, tonight.”

You hum, sympathising with her. Nightshift is no joke, especially in a village as quiet as yours.

“Uhm,” You turn to James, “Sirius and Remus are in the smoking area. Together. Alone.”

James sighs, takes a swig of his pint, and is up like a shot to stop whatever fight is likely happening in the Three Broomsticks beer garden. He squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he goes, offering you a smile he only ever seems to give you. You can’t read it. But it’s soft. Not the teasing smile he has when you’re flirting merciless with him, or him, you. It’s just. A nice smile. For you. You watch him go; head turned, the ghost of a smile on your own lips. He pushes open the wooden door and it swings shut behind him.

“How longs that been going on then?” Frank asks, nodding his head towards the door James just went through.

“Pretty much since they met, I suppose.”

Frank laughs, which causes you to frown, and then he shakes his head.

“No. You and Potter.”

“There’s nothing going on.” You say, though your face heats up all the same.

“I can keep a secret, you know.”

“Why does everyone think I’m shagging James?” You ask, rather loud for how empty the pub is.

Your face is flames when Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall silent and look over at you, biting back laughs and whatever comments it is that are sparkling behind their eyes. You groan, embarrassed, and turn to follow James out of the door. For a moment, you think he’s allowing a full-on fight between Sirius and Remus occur. He’s standing not far from the door, sheltered by the wooden terrace that leads out to the concrete of the smoking area. It’s dimly lit in comparison to the rest of the beer garden. You frown on approach, confused as to why he’s just standing there.

It takes all of two seconds for you to see what he’s seeing. Remus has Sirius crowded against the wall, caged in like some sort of animal, and he’s kissing him so violently, so aggressively, that they actually could be fighting. In some sick, twisted way.

“Holy shit.”

James’ eyes snap to yours, moving into action to pull you back inside before Sirius and Remus realise they’ve been foiled. His hand burns like fire against your arm, his eyes steely and sharp as he looks down at you, “You cannot tell anyone what you just saw.”

“You knew?”

James shakes his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He has you pushed up against the wall, much like Remus did Sirius, and your cheeks heat at the thought. Jesus, they’re more messed up than you thought.

“I suspected.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s not my place. Look, Sirius is – he’s complicated, okay? I don’t know if he even knows he’s – just don’t say anything, okay?” James is flustered, panicked.

You get it. Sirius has never mentioned being gay, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that perhaps, being gay isn’t something that was on Sirius’ radar until Remus popped up out of nowhere and sent his perception of himself tumbling. Okay. Fine. You get that. You can relate. Not entirely. The situation is different. James Potter is a boy you never paid any interest to, growing up. Not romantically, at least. Until he went away to Rugby camp one summer and came back looking like sin incarnate. Well, then you’d noticed, and everything you thought you knew about him came tumbling down. So, not exactly the same, but you get it.

“I won’t, James. I won’t say anything.”

“Not even to Sirius. Or Remus.” James looks panicked, like one wrong move in handling this situation will blow it up royally.

“Promise.”

James nods, seems to realise that he’s still got an iron grip on your arm, and drops it like you’d been the one scalding him. The door opens, washing you both with cool air, and Sirius storms back inside, halting when he sees the way James has you pushed up against the wall.

“You two shagging then?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone you can only assume was brought about by whatever the fuck just happened between him and Remus.

“Jamie wishes,” You plaster a sickly-sweet smile on your face, “He couldn’t handle me.”

With that, you leave them to it, returning to the table and finishing your entire wine in one gulp. The girls are kind enough not to say anything, but Lily gives you a sympathetic glance and refills the glass for you. Frank laughs to himself, you flip him off.

Remus returns a moment later, dodging Sirius and James who are still huddled where you and James just were. He takes a seat, finishes his pint, and calls it a night without another word.

You don’t miss the way James has to grab onto Sirius’ wrist to stop him from following.

--

Ahhhh! The first chapter is out!

I sincerely hope ya'll enjoyed :) Let me know your thoughts.

[merakiui]

we have discussed clingy, codependent boyfriend azul, but now allow me to present to you: scummy, sleazy floyd.

(nsfw + female reader)

scummy, sleazy floyd who you meet at some club deep in the shadowed corner of the city. he smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and he’s leering lasciviously as he leans against the bar, blocking your view of another guy who’d been attempting to strike up conversation. he doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s interested, and you only let him stay because he keeps you on your toes with his witty and blunt retorts. you tell him you’re not looking for a quick fuck and his lips spread in an easy grin and he answers with: “and i’m just here to hold hands and make friends.”

he buys you a drink; you gaze at the flashy silver and gold adorning his fingers when he passes the cocktail to you. some of those rings look expensive: bejeweled with the brightest gemstones and glittering with sterling silver. his sleeves are rolled up; he’s got tattoo sleeves of what looks to be various marine creatures, all predatory with their curling tentacles and sharpened maws. his ears are pierced, too, and so is his tongue. not that you’re looking at his lips, but when he smiles his entire face lights up. one moment he looks pure and sweet with his broad grins; the next he looks as if he’s just undressed you with his gaze alone. and under the dim, sensual neon lighting, something about the latter look has you rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

you talk to him as you drink. horrifyingly enough, he’s good company. you almost wish you’d come with a friend so you could have an excuse to leave. it’s not that you’re uncomfortable. it’s just that you weren’t expecting to find someone here who’d genuinely listen to you—and not just so he can wheedle you into sex! he’s a rare specimen, or maybe you’re just too buzzed to see through the deceptively appealing haze that’s fallen over him.

“so why are you still here?”

“cuz you’re fun to talk to.”

“but don’t you want to fuck?”

“do you?” he smirks at your flustered sputtering. “don’t ask for somethin’ you don’t want.”

“huh…”

“you’re cute.” it catches you off guard, but then so does the nickname he throws out next. “like a little shrimp. think i’ll start callin’ ya shrimpy from now on.”

“please don’t.”

“too late.”

you quirk an amused smile and reach out to shove him away. he doesn’t budge. not that you put any force into it. you don’t want him to leave. not yet.

“you never gave me your name.”

“ya never asked.”

“okay, smooth talker, what’s your name?”

he smiles, gleeful mismatched eyes flicking to your fingers as they curl around the handle of your empty glass. he gazes at you next. “floyd.”

“nice to meet you, floyd. i’m (name).”

“s’pretty, but i still think shrimpy sounds better.”

you roll your eyes and angle your body so that you’re facing him entirely. you know you’ve been sitting here for quite some time now because suddenly he’s the only one you want to look at. maybe it’s the alcohol, but you feel so stupidly incoherent when you stand on unsteady legs. it takes you a moment to balance on the wedge platforms, and floyd offers a muscled arm for you to lean on. you grab it and squeeze his bicep out of drunken curiosity. he’s strong…

he’s eyeing your mini skirt and fishnet stockings with sharp eyes. you know it’s bad news; you know you shouldn’t get carried away like this, especially since you just came out of a very vanilla, very normal, very non-sexual romance. but that relationship didn’t work out; this one…is different. it’s not a relationship. it’s a hook-up. it’s temporary. it’s not permanent.

your eyes tell him all he needs to know. he giggles as he guides you through a tight hall to the bathroom. the music is a muffled hum now, bass reverberating through your rib cage as if it’s a heartbeat. impatiently, he pushes you into a stall, not bothering to lock the door. you scramble for purchase when he shoves you up against the wall. it’s been graffitied with all sorts of nonsense: magicam usernames, some circled and others crossed out, phone numbers, dirty words, incoherent scribbles of poorly drawn penises… it’s filthy and you wouldn’t fuck even your worst enemy in a place as horrid as this, but tonight it feels right.

you fumble to grab his shoulders while his hands hike your mini skirt further up your hips. it feels fast and slow all at once. is this happening? are you even alive right now? did you pass out from the alcohol? is this a dream? his voice brings you back to earth next.

“changed your mind?” he teases, pressing his thumbs into your sides to gauge just how plush your waist is. and from what he’s feeling he seems to approve, for he squeezes you playfully. the coolness of his rings settles your overheated nerves.

“s-shut up…”

“ya ever had sex before?”

it takes a long minute for you to process that, but once you do you hurry to respond. “of course i have!”

“liar.”

“’m not,” you mumble, shaking your head.

“yeah, yeah. lemme guess. you want it, but you’re too scared to take it.”

“…not true.”

he barks out a laugh. “ya serious? really? that’s it?”

you push his face away. he’s still laughing.

“that’s not true!”

“ya ever use any toys?” at your limp shrug, he throws his head back and whistles. “man. why’re you even here? what’s an inexperienced thing like you doin’ in a club?”

you stare hard at the floor, suddenly ashamed. “i… i wanted to lose it…tonight…”

or something like that.

“don’t ya have someone special who can take it? not that i ain’t special, but ya know… s’different. a partner or somethin’ like that.”

“there’s no one.”

floyd hums as if he’s considering something before promptly lowering to his knees. he doesn’t seem to mind the sticky floor, but then he’s more focused on the space between your legs. he winks when he catches your gaze, lips peeling to reveal rows of sharp, pearly teeth.

“then i’d better treat ya extra special tonight.”

you don’t object. he wasn’t expecting you to.

maybe if you were more sober and level-headed you might find the sensation unusual. but his tongue (and the cold metal of his accompanying piercing) feels so unfathomably good against your clit. he braces himself against your legs, strong hands wrapped firmly around your thighs as if they’re garters. his nose is buried in your crotch while he angles his head to lave his tongue over your slick pussy, leaving you a shuddering, gasping mess above. you grab at his hair, tugging teal strands to keep yourself afloat amidst inebriation and waves of tantalizing pleasure, each crashing into you as if you’re a poor, fragile sailboat on a vast, tumultuous sea.

he’s the best (and only) fuck you’ve ever had, so when his tongue flashes into your pussy you throw your head back against the stall and wail, your stomach untying its many knots as you come undone. you’re a mess, shuddering and panting, reduced to nothing before something so… so… great? perfect?

something so floyd.

and while you grind against his mouth he laps eagerly at your wetness, unbothered by the shower he just endured. he’s laughing when he pulls away, voice raspy and thick with good-natured mischief.

“shrimpy’s so easy…”

you scowl at him, but it falls apart the moment he licks his lips.

“you’re just too…”

“yeah?” he nods, encouraging you to continue. “too what? you can say it.”

you almost don’t want to give him that satisfaction, but then he’s pinching your clit and you’re melting against the stall. suddenly being vindictive is the least of your priorities.

“t-too good!”

“see? shrimpy knows the right words.” he rises to his feet in the cramped space, shucking his trousers as he goes. they pool at his ankles, momentarily forgotten. you stare at the outline of his half-hard cock against his boxers. “good girl.”

that... wow. okay. that’s…something new. you don’t want it to hit, but it does. and you hate that it does. you try not to let it show, but he’s so eerily perceptive despite all of the carnal lust and physical attraction. how he’s even able to focus all of his attention on you while he lazily works himself in one hand is beyond you, but then you surmise he’s likely had plenty of experience and so by now he knows the basic steps by heart. it hurts a little—that you’re not his first, that you aren’t anyone special to him, that you’re just another body he’s pinned to a dingy stall wall—but you don’t dare let your sentimental feelings spoil the mood.

you watch him roll a condom on one-handed and—god, even his dick is pierced—your anticipation couldn’t be any more palpable. he rocks himself against you, his leaking cock pressed to your stomach. he pokes at an area just above his tip.

“you think it’ll go all the way up to here?” he hums while you try (and fail) to say something coherent. “only one way to find out, yeah?”

“mhm…”

floyd laughs. “don’t go gettin’ dazed on me now, shrimpy. i haven’t even put it in yet!”

he turns you so you’re facing the wall and lifts one of your legs. the position stings for a moment, but then his dick is prodding at your pussy and if you had any doubts now they’re all washed away when he snaps his hips forwards, filling you all at once, so much that the breath is punched out of you and you crumple against the wall. you scramble to grab onto something, but he keeps you plastered to the wall, one hand curled around your waist and the other holding your leg up so that he’s fucking you at an angle. each thrust pushes you up against the stall, and you howl like a mutt in heat, no longer worried about slipping.

it’s so gross. you’re tacky with sweat and your panties are soaked through, and every time he connects his body to yours you can hear the lewd squelching of skin on skin. it’s vile and loveless, but god it’s good. everything about him is temporary; he’s not your forever. you know this, but for tonight he’s your temporary and that feels like a dreamy eternity.

he fucks you like you’re the only one left in this world, and your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, vision whiting out. you shudder through your orgasm, sobbing pleasured relief, and it takes just a few more well-aimed thrusts until he’s spilling hot, groaning lowly in your ear.

he stays pressed to you for a few seconds, rolling his hips slowly as if riding out a glorious high, and you blink rapidly as you return to yourself. he waves his hand in front of you and, stupidly, you reach out and clasp it tight. his fingers entwine with yours. temporary, you remind yourself.

it’s sweaty and sticky and so unbearably hot when he separates himself, slipping out with ease. you almost lower yourself to the ground, exhausted and in need of a bath, so he supports you with one arm while he tugs the now-filled condom off.

floyd peers at you with glazed eyes and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. it’s the cherry on top—a job well done.

“you got a friend nearby?”

“what?”

“someone to pick ya up.” he tries to clean you, balling toilet paper and using it to wipe you down. it doesn’t really work. you still feel filthy even after he’s adjusted your panties and pulled your mini skirt down. it’s the effort that counts, though. “shrimpy’s not really in the right mind.”

“i’m in the best mind, thank you and fuck you!”

“kinda did that last one already.”

he lets you tear yourself away from him. as he observes you clinging to the wall for support, he fits himself back into his boxers and yanks his trousers up.

“gimme your phone.”

“no way. you might do something weird.”

floyd rolls his eyes. “lemme call ya a ride. you need it.”

“ooh, chivalry isn’t dead…”

you pass it to him after fumbling to unlock it. floyd spends an awful long time typing, but before you know it he’s calling someone. you listen to him as he talks, his voice a playful drawl. alcohol aside, he definitely rearranged your guts and your brain. it’s a wonder you’re still conscious.

“hi, jadeee. do me a favor, yeah? will you come pick us up? we gotta drop shrimpy off at her place.” there’s silence; you strain to hear the person on the other side. “nah. s’just a little lady i met tonight. she’s cute. maybe your type if you don’t mind sloppy seconds.” there’s more silence; your skin prickles when you realize he’s talking about you to whoever this jade person is. “kay, so you’ll pick us up?”

the exchange lasts another minute before he’s hanging up and sliding your phone into your pocket. you’re relieved when he tells you he’s found you a ride home because it allows you to mumble your address before you lose yourself to exhaustion entirely. you don’t remember the ride home or how you even got into your apartment or what your roommate said when a mysterious man carried your unconscious body inside like you were a sack of flour he’d slung over his shoulder. but when you wake up the next day, hungover, sticky, sweaty, and still tired, you aren’t spared the details from your roommate. it’s a story you find hard to believe.

you, going out to a club and hooking up? as if. you can hardly fit a dildo inside without tightening up out of fright.

but before you step into the shower, you check your phone for any proof. sure enough, after scrolling through your contacts, there’s a new one. his name is floyd. you stare at the number and it all comes rushing back.

horrified, you text him: why is your number in my phone?

he responds minutes later: thought u might want it.

well i don’t want it.

then delete it :p i’m not stopping u, he writes back.

you stare at his message long enough for those three dots to return.

he sends another message: gonna take a guess and say u wanna keep me in ur phone :)

you hate that emoticon. there’s nothing to smile about.

i’m going to delete you after my shower!

we’ll see

you shut your phone off. you hate that you allowed yourself to get so swept up last night, but most of all you hate that he’s right. you do want him to stay. at least now you have a means of staying in touch. not that you’ll utilize it! but…

it never hurts to talk every now and then, right?

[cloudofbutterflies92]

Black lipstick and bourbon (Call Of Duty One Shot)

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC)

TW: torture, blood

A/N: finally managed to finish this one shot, thank you @chloekistune and @graveyard-party666 for their support(I would have gone crazy). Before you start reading I ask for mercy if there are any grammar mistakes, English is not my native language. With this last warning I retire to my cave🫣 (hope you enjoy it)

St. Petersburg, Russia, Jan. 7, 7:30 p.m.

The soft 50s jazz music and dim light in that room gave the room an almost cozy atmosphere, a good thing since it was literally freezing cold outside. Poor Eden who had chosen that skimpy outfit was already feeling the biting Russian cold.

But if she had to seduce a known terrorist it was a small sacrifice to make.

Already she heard the voice of her best friend Chloe knowing that the outfit she had lent her would be smeared with blood, poor Chloe.

Her job, on the one hand she hated it, having to delude people and then extort information, that was her job as an MI6 agent.

Spectra, that was her codename, a name that was a whole program. She would extort her information and then like a specter she would disappear without a trace. That codename she had earned with effort, so much effort and without even the help of her grandmother Helen, one of the great heads of the famous British spy agency.

"Reggie let's not waste any time, tell me the target" Eden in the process was putting makeup on her own lips of that pitch black, definitely a 'good choice to use for one of the most well-known clubs in the city.

The man on the other end of the receiver snorted almost indignantly at the spy's hasty manner, but Reggie always had an excuse to complain. The unsweetened macchiato, the fact that they did not pay him properly but he was often the one who saved Eden's ass in difficult situations with his hacking skills.

“You should address me as mr Reggie, however the target's name is Vasya Kulikov, former Spetsnaz. He could very well be tried by the tribunal for the united nations for war crimes committed for fuck's sake" the hacker burst out laughing, more at the fact that he was ironically still at large than anything else.

"Rest assured, our friend will make a trip of no return" the vibration of the other cell phone caught her attention, she was still in her lingerie and had yet to finish her makeup but her curiosity was too strong so she looked at the message: a mysterious number that judging by the first digits looked British.

"Are you Spectra? How long will you be? I don't have all night."

The Raven haired girl raised an eyebrow, then her grandmother's voice echoed in her skull box like a tic.Still she was indignant that the mission would be in collaboration with the SAS, she had never liked their methods plus the fact that most of them did not take seriously the fact that a woman could be superior to them. But her grandmother had told her over and over again that she was doing a favor for one of her protégés, a certain Captain John Price.

As calmly as she could, the girl typed an answer that might seem appropriate, lest she sound haughty.

"Don't you know we ladies keep us waiting?"

The answer did not come.

"And do you know that we gentlemen don't like to wait?"

A giggle escaped from Eden at that moment, the kind that screamed "but who told me to take a job like that?”

"And does this gentleman have a name?”

She looked at herself in the mirror, satisfied with the result. A perfect disguise of a real e-girl with that blue wig.

"Eden, are you alive? Have you fallen into the toilet?" Reggie's ringing voice brought her back to herself, that sassy SAS soldier had aroused her indignation but also some curiosity. From the nightstand next to the bed was a pack of cigarettes, the words "Apollo Soyuz commemorative brand" and she hated those Russian cigarettes. She would have preferred her faithful Sterling menthol ones.

"I'm alive kid"She lit her cigarette, inhaling the smoke with a disgusted grimace.

"Your grandmother gave me more details, apparently plans have changed.The target must come out unscathed, orders from above."

"Don't worry, I know a perfect place to leave our friend" holding the cigarette between her lips Eden put on the leather coat that would protect her from the cold.

Another message made the screen light up, leaving Eden with a grin full of satisfaction.

"Ghost”

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

10 p.m.

The lights of the club could be seen from afar, among clochards begging and people already before time drunk Eden managed to reach the area in which she had her appointment, a small alley on Dumskaya ulitsa.

"I hope it's worth it Ghost" the brunette looked at the time on her cell phone, and then she was the one late.Stupid man.

Puffing she began to tap her heel on the asphalt until turning around she almost fainted.

"Jesus Christ but are you crazy?" Eden with her hand on her chest tried to catch her breath exhaling and inspiring oxygen as if she had just emerged from the ocean. She looked up curiously: the tall, muscular figure of a man was watching her with equal curiosity holding his arms folded, a balaclava covered his face but the gaze was of a unique intensity.

"Are you Spectra? Are you?"

"Do you see other people?" Eden looked over her shoulder, almost mocking him, not seeming pleased with the irony with which she had presented herself by sensing his breath becoming labored and threatening.

"Okay take it easy big boy, it's me by the way" with that confirmation the man shrugged at her.

"We don't have much time, in fact I don't have much time."

Puffing Eden followed the mysterious masked man in stride, it amused her that despite him wearing that balaclava he went unnoticed in the crowd. Whether it was because of the alcohol circulating like nothing or the fact that that street was full of eccentrically dressed people, but the two easily managed to arrive in front of the "Snakehead", the club run by Kulikov.

"Pretend well" quickly Eden clutched at Ghost's arm, who rolled his eyes. She didn't like this act of being a sappy couple either, but at least she looked believable.

"Удостоверение личности" the man in front of the club addressed the couple, Ghost didn't understand anything and it was thanks to Eden that the two were able to save their skins for the moment by pulling out their ID cards: Katia Zakharova and Luka Zaytsev, Reggie could choose two more strange fake names. Luckily, the bodyguard had believed these antics; they were safe.

"If you don't even know a little Russian, we're not off to a good start" Eden whispered, the techno music destroying both of their eardrums.

"Well, if you care so much, do the talking" he ranted, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor, preferring the quiet of the bar counter.God, now she had to babysit too?

"Strawberry mojito" she ordered, then waited for him.

"My treat big boy, tell me what you want?" Eden tried to calm the waters, like it or not, they had to cooperate.

"Bourbon, with little ice" he preferred to turn to the bartender and take his order personally, the bartender nodded and began preparing drinks for the two customers, within minutes they were there in front of them.

"At the moment it seems our man is not here" Eden looked cautiously, though her gaze was more on her mission partner, as if he was in a world of his own.

"I can tell you're from Manchester, only someone from Manchester could be wearing that jacket."

"London girl?" Ghost delivered his sentence gruffly, sipping his alcoholic beverage contentedly.

"Birmingham, but I live in Bexley now."

The Mancunian's laughter made even the other two customers next to them, mere unwitting observers of the discussion between the two.

"A Brummie ah, it's all explained now. Price is paying me this time bloody hell" he brushed the corner of his own mouth with the tip of his tongue to remove the remaining alcohol and lower the balaclava.

"At least I made you smile big boy, and that makes me important "Eden winked at him playfully. Or maybe not.

A snort as an answer was more than enough for her to sing victory, the tension was high in the air especially considering the idiot hadn't shown up yet.

"Reggie I need camera monitoring, can you hack into their system?" Eden trusted in the young hacker's skills, 19 years old was indeed a prodigy of nature for that age.

"I need to infiltrate their surveillance system but I can do it missus."

An exchange of complicit glances between Eden toward Ghost hinted that the situation was under control, it almost seemed as if they had come there for nothing.

Then lightning struck, their target was sitting in one of the small sofas, surrounded by bodyguards and "taken care of" by two girls, who making him feel like a king.Usual man with delusions of grandeur.

"Did you notice that too?" Eden nodded at Ghost's comment, then getting up from her own stool.They had to attract attention if they wanted to succeed in catching him, and Eden knew exactly how.

"Get up, it's just to get the boiled fish to bite" she put her hand forward, with a reluctant Ghost agreeing. In the end it was for a 'common goal no?What could go wrong?

"Don't be a log move!" she incited Ghost to let go, Prodigy's "Firestarter" playing in the background in that parade of moving bodies. The Mancunian took the agent by the hip, making her lean back against his own muscular body.

"Just this once Park" he pronounced boredly, causing her to rub against his broader figure. The way Eden moved against Ghost, sensuously was apparently enough to attract Kulikov's attention.And to Ghost apparently to make him almost docile.

"A bodyguard is coming, maybe this is it" the MI6 agent whispered in the SAS soldier's ear, who as expected were joined by the man in a suit and tie.With his head he indicated for her to follow him and Ghost behind her was about to follow but the bodyguard stopped him by hinting that only Eden had been invited, it was quite a problem now.

"I can handle it" Eden reassured him, following the bodyguard into the small area reserved for VIPs, now she was finally face to face with their target. The same man made the two girls stand up next to him, tapping on the couch to ask Eden to sit down. The man began to brag to the girl about his possessions, about the fact that anyway girls like her he saw every day in his bed, and Eden like a good actress played the part of the scatterbrained fool, trying to tell him that she was studying to be an archaeologist and that she needed the money.But something from time to time worried her, going for Ghost's gaze, who remained at the counter observing the scene, moving his glass of bourbon so that the ice melted quickly, almost compulsively.

"I would like to talk to you privately" the enemy's Russian accent made Eden awaken from the sort of catalepsy with which she had been watching Ghost; she was surprised that now Kulikov was not speaking to her in Russian but in English. She should have marked in her mind that she had to learn to make it more pronounced.

"Do you accept? Don't worry your boyfriend won't know anything Katya right?" it almost seemed as if the man was testing her.

"Yes Katya sir" she then saw him stand up and whisper something to his bodyguards before grabbing Eden by the hip in an almost violent manner. In another situation he would have gotten a slap, in that case, however, she was acting, making her personality subdued. One last look at Ghost to make sure he was ready and that she was all right, and the young woman followed the man to the upper floors until she arrived in front of a door.

"Ladies first" the Russian invited the girl inside, her eyes somehow seeking Ghost, seeing how from his seat he was observing the scene in a disgruntled way? Almost as if he was annoyed.

She entered the prive without asking herself too many questions, neon lights on purple and blue made the 'lounge atmosphere, like some sort of Blade Runner-esque sci-fi movie.Eden took a seat with some circumspection, analyzing every object present, with the former Spetsnaz filling two glasses with champagne.

"I got this in France some time ago, I always get my supplies right" he handed the goblet to Eden on the coffee table and then wrapped his arm around the spy's side, a shiver of disgust came over her face but which she tried to mask with a fake laugh.

"You still haven't told me how in short you managed to get all this, you know it's not nice to hide things anyway" she tried to come across as adorable by pouting, not unaware that behind them Ghost was in the shadows, observing them, just as soon as he had finished asphyxiating one of Vulikov's henchmen.

"Whatever you want Vasya, only if I can afford can I put some music? You know I can't do what you want with a little atmosphere...hot" she wrinkled her nose, receiving the man's approval. From the stereo played lounge music very much in keeping with the atmosphere.

"You seem very nervous to me" sinuously she moved her body over him, removing the jacket she was wearing, she looked like a siren enchantress who had trapped the poor unfortunate on duty in an endless loop.The Russian sighed, drops of sweat were brushing his forehead with Ghost who seemed to be watching the scene impassively.

But his hands, his hands clenched in those fists hinted to Eden otherwise.

"A beautiful woman like you deserves a man who will fully satisfy her" Vasya brought his hands to both of Eden's hips, who was taunting him to herself. It was amusing to see how little it took for a man to fall into the web, and Eden could excel at that.

"And would you be capable of that? What would you do for me?"

"Everything, you want the latest fashionable dress? I'll buy it for you. A trip to a Caribbean island? We leave tonight "he was looking at her already smitten with her, they had him in their hands.

"You know what I want instead?" Eden came dangerously close to his lips, with him already anticipating his lucky night of fire.

"What you want honey."

"She wants to know exactly where the shipment of that gas you are carrying is" Ghost, knife in hand pointed at the enemy's throat.Vasya was absolutely shocked, he later realized that the two henchmen outside the door had been sent to the heaven by the masked man.

"You did a very good job Ghostie" Eden clothed herself and began pacing back and forth, the nickname affixed seemed not to go down well with the Mancunian but he did not speak, rather he preferred to keep the blond Russian under observation.

"Стерва!" Vasya shouted at Eden, who released a giggle, he was not the first nor the last to call her a "whore", it did not affect her.

"Now the three of us are going to take a little walk" she looked out the office window, there were too many people to go out the main entrance.

"Move up you idiot" Ghost ordered, handcuffing the man.

"I won't ask where you got those handcuffs from, but we're not taking our asses home. Not going out the front door" her gaze was fixed on Vasya, he was their pass to run away.

"Talk" was Ghost's warning, and he seemed not to be kidding. Vasya pointed to the bookcase behind Eden.

"There is a button behind the plant."

Not waiting any more precious minutes she pressed the button, letting a mechanism unlock a door behind the 'enormous furniture, a whistle of approval escaped Eden's lips, overtaken, however, by a hurried Ghost.

"We don't have time, my car is parked in the area. Let's get it and take it to this fuckin’ place."

"Can you drive? I don't think so from the face, anyway it's Kharkiv" such a sentence made the masked man turn around, who couldn't believe his ears.Seventeen hours of driving was a long time.

"Look I know big boy it's a lot but Alexei and his sister Olga are the only people I trust" the outside hubbub of Kulikov's henchmen alerted Ghost, hurriedly the three of them entered inside the secret exit, walking down a small corridor that then led them to internal stairs. Crossing smoothly they came out to the outside, it seemed that the situation was under control but the scream of one of the men of the former Spetsnaz set the alarm bells ringing, leading Eden and Ghost to run with the enemy through the alleys of the neighborhood.

"Get in there!" the girl pointed to a doorway to Ghost and Vasya; it could be a momentary point of salvation for the three.

"Next time I will never wear..." Eden did not even have time to catch her breath, one of Kulikov's men grabbed her from behind forcing her to push him backwards onto the table.Two others were on Ghost, trying one to stop him and the other to knock the British man out with their fists.

"EDEN!" Ghost was attempting to free himself from the two, getting pummeled.Eden was trapped at the table, with the man she was fighting trying to choke her. A kick to his private parts and a headbutt led to him staggering as Eden, with a shattered nose staggered like a zombie. In a moment of lucidity the girl grabbed the lamp a few feet away from her, smashing it on her opponent's skull. Ghost on his side was still struggling, the man who was punching him threw himself at Eden, who tried to dodge and hit him with a steel pipe before falling knee-deep to the ground, it was a good moment for Ghost that, freeing himself from his enemy's grasp and hitting him repeatedly with his faithful knife. The three seemed to stop moving, but from a distance the voices of other enemies could be heard coming.

"Are you all right?" The masked man reached out to the brunette, receiving confirmation from her. Limping and groaning in pain she stood up.

"I've been on the verge of death too many times" looking around she saw Vasya in a crouching corner, strangely he had not taken the opportunity to run away.

Ghost immediately caught up with him, pushing him forward and reaching the other side of the hallway.Both he and Eden were battered, stealth tactics were a must this time.

"I can hear them, they're upstairs" whispered Eden, walking silently.In her heart she hoped the heels of her boots could not attract attention.

"My men are more loyal than your whole group of invaders" Kulikov teased them, neither Eden nor Ghost responded but surely both wanted to break his neck. Only they had to get out of there before they did.

"These bastards have tough hides, we'll never get to my fuckin car" Ghost exited the building and looked around until he saw Eden pointing a gun at a poor bystander about to get into his own car.Desperate times call for desperate measures, using even inconvenient means.

"I'll drive, you don't seem lucid at the moment. Stay in the back with our friend "Ghost put the car in gear, starting the engine amid the screams in Russian of the man whose car was being stolen.

"Yeah? You don't seem so reliable" she narrowed her eyes, her vision blurring, literally seeing the typical dots of when one is on the verge of fainting. And almost like a seer she predicted correctly: Ghost literally drove into the car behind him.

"We'll never get there alive," Kulikov burst out laughing, chilling from Ghost's killer stare.

"He's right, at the border between St. Petersburg and Kharkiv is the military patrol" Eden got out of the car, forcing the passerby to take the wheel.

"Двигай, нам нужно в Харьков" the MI6 agent pointed her gun at 'the address of the poor man who had found himself at the wrong time.It was going to be a very long journey.

Kharkiv, a few hours later

It had not been easy for Eden and Ghost to cross Ukrainian soil; it was only thanks to the cooperation of the man they had "taken hostage" that the two managed to escort Vasya Kulikov to Kharkiv. It was almost a miracle, most likely due to the fact that the policemen were a bit tipsy from alcohol.

"Are these friends of yours reliable?Did you tell about the situation?" Ghost peppered Eden with questions as together with her and the Russian they walked through the ground floor of the building where Alexei and his sister Olga lived.

Eden had met them on a mission some time ago, Alexei was a 'Ukrainian intelligence agent with whom he had collaborated to scour a cell of Al Qatala terrorists, a notorious group of terrorists led by the "Wolf" who were preparing an attack on Plóshcha Svobódy(Freedom Square).

In those days she had also met his sister Olga, a lawyer and well-known women's rights activist.

"I'm reliably quiet, I've explained more or less the thing" Eden was trying throughout to light a cigarette, damn lighter that wouldn't light.

"You shouldn't smoke in the elevator" Ghost leaned his full weight against the metal wall, the pain from the scuffle with those bastards was already being felt.

"It's a tiny, harmless cigarette" Eden turned to Kulikov, on the one hand she felt more relaxed now that they had him in their grasp, but she did not let her guard down.It would not be easy to get him to talk given the muteness into which he had fallen.

"Come on, shush move" Eden invited the Russian to move, Ghost beside her who from behind the Russian's back had the knife pointed, ready for anything. Apartment 217, the Koval family 's apartment. Memories of evenings playing cards and eating typical Ukrainian dishes made Eden smile slightly, and she groaned as she knocked three times, only to pause two seconds and give one last knock.

"Eden?" A tall, burly boy opened the door, who then looked in shock at Ghost and Vasya.

"No Eden don't..." the boy paused hearing his sister call him in his native language and ask what was going on.

"Oh God Eden are you..." the young woman's gaze then fell on the two behind the MI6 agent, it took a hangdog look from the latter to convince Alexei to let them in. Their parents were on vacation, and if the neighbors would see or hear things they would call the police.

"Is he tied up good?" Eden looked from the vinyl shelf to see if she could find anything to muffle the sound of Kulikov's screams as Ghost was tying the Russian to the chair.

"A fuckin’ perfect knot, you sure are good at making plans" the Mancunian's wry tone made the raven-haired girl roll her eyes.

"Well my plan saved your ass" then she looked at Kulikov, who smiled sneeringly at her.

"Do you really think I will talk? You can also cut off my dick and feed it to that Persian cat who is watching that I won't say anything."

"Hey what did my cat do to you?" Olga picked up her own cat, Alexei ordered her to leave taking a vinyl of Edith Piaf's La vie en rose and giving it to Eden.

"I'll alert intelligence in the meantime, make quick, work of it" the two nodded to the Ukrainian. Humming Eden reached for the record player, placing the 'circular object on top of it.

"You better talk if you want a chance to be able to live, even if in prison" Eden, with both hands resting on Vasya's knees leaned forward toward him.

"It's a shame that pretty face you have is marred by your own blood. You should care instead of wasting time" he grimaced almost smugly at seeing her in that condition.

"That..." Ghost's hand rested on her shoulder, the young woman felt strange sensations at that very moment.Concern?

"That's the only thing I give him credit for, you're battered."

"It's not that you look good. I'm not a child" she turned to Ghost, causing him to shake his head and sigh.

"Talk Kulikov, I don't have all day" then she returned her focus to her target, who burst into an annoyed laugh.

"You don't know what you are up against, something involving the whole world is being discussed here."

Now they knew a modicum of what they were targeting, all that remained was to find out where the cargo was headed.

"She asked you a question, answer it. Where is the cargo?" Ghost with the blade of his knife grazed the former Spetsnaz's fingers, openly challenging him.

"Do you think maybe you scare me mh? You have no idea what these eyes saw..."

He did not even let himself say it, sticking the blade on the knee of the man who endured the pain by chewing his lips.

"Now it's the knee, next could be a finger. An ear, or...your dick.The big guy here doesn't go easy" Eden slammed her hands on the shoulders of the Russian terrorist who cursed in his native tongue, pointing with her head at Ghost who was sharpening the next blade he would use.

"In St Petersburg, the cargo is in a factory is owned by Gazprom in the vicinity of St. Petersburg, it serves as a cover" the Russian decided to speak.They had the information on where the cargo was, it seemed to have been all too easy as a thing.Eden with what they had found out immediately called Reggie.

"Gosh Eden I thought you were dead "Reggie was relieved to hear his friend's voice.

"I'm hard to die, anyway we'll get him to talk and give us exact directions to the location. Rog" closed the call she looked straight at Ghost, handing her a pen and paper to jot down the coordinates. Kulikov like a robot dictated the exact numbers where the cargo area was located.

After a few hours the two tasked Alexei with taking Kulikov to Ukrainian intelligence, given the history he had including terrorist attack planning it was much better for him to rot in Ukraine.

"This mission was like you walked me through a field full of pins, heels that high rest assured I will never wear them again" with more lightness on her shoulders for the success of the mission Eden gladly got Olga to give her a more comfortable pair of shoes, noticing how Ghost was touching his nose making noises of pain.

"Olga get me a medical kit and some ice."

"No" he insisted but the ginger-haired girl had already run to get the necessities. Looking like that didn't make him tough but just a stupid donkey.

"You have to take off the balaclava" he seemed to look at her with an expression that screamed he wouldn't even think about removing that piece of cloth from his face.

"You're not going anywhere if you whine Batman."

"Ya never give up do ya?" his hoarse, indignant voice hinted that maybe just this once he would agree:but on one condition.

"Oh okay, then I'll go get ready. I have to bring a case, domestic violence" With that sentence Ghost's gaze seemed lost almost in the void.As if he had unlocked something.Left alone Eden opened the case, brushing the edge of the balaclava.

"I can do it myself" he removed balaclava, showing his sculpted features, with the marks of the scuffle he had had with Kulikov's men turned purplish.

"And you didn't want to get help, what an ass" she applied some ointment to his cheek area, seeing him relax at her imprints on his skin.

"You're good as a nurse, you should think about a career change" he joked, holding the bag of ice to his forehead.

"That ice pack is hibernating your brain," she feigned indignation but with a hint of a smile. Underneath it all this Ghost didn't look bad as a person, a bit of a sourpuss but it was appearance.Olga looked at them as if before her stood an old couple, the kind that came out in a 1950s movie

"My, aren't you two cute, you should go out together."

"No!" The two immediately at attention pointed out, crossing their gazes and laughing. It had been since she had been cheated on by her ex David that she had never thought of dating another man, throwing herself heart and soul into her work.

"If she weren't such a know-it-all I'd go out with her" Ghost came up with that statement that made the woman frown, tossing her wig in the trash.

"I'm going to take a shower, stay with that thought" Eden left the kitchen and Ghost.That on her face had was a smug grin.

London, March 20, 2019

Two months had passed since those days in Russia and Ukraine, Eden was on one of many relaxing days after returning a few days ago from a mission at Costa in the company of her best friend Chloe to visit the city.Brownies and muffins were placed on the table ready to be eaten by the two girls, who could finally spend some time together.

"By the way, I wonder where that guy you told me about ended up, he seems like an obnoxious one" Chloe after a small bite of her brownies said offhandedly.

"I don't know, after we got back to St. Petersburg he disappeared" Eden's mind began to ramble about the night she and Ghost had last seen each other.

"It really hurts you to smoke, you are young and a beautiful girl."

"Have you fallen in love with me?I'm not someone to fall in love with."

"Well why deny that you are a pretty girl?I would be an idiot and a blind man"

"You're not bad at all either"

Such melancholy memories moved to them near the Nevá River, with light snow falling. To how in her heart if only she hadn't let her past affect her she would have given himself a chance to be known.Seeing him turn and walk away after smiling at her like that...god she had been a fool to let him slip away.

"What are you thinking? "At some point Chloe brought her back to the reality of that little bar, she felt disoriented.

"I don't know Chloe but my mind is on him, and that's not good" to recover herself she sipped some hot chocolate, an effect that did not wear off.

Damn why now she couldn't get him out of her mind.It had been going on for days.

"You should try calling him even though actually-" the ringtone of Eden's phone vibrated inside her mini bag.

"It will be my grandmother, surely it's her."

She turned on her phone, a message from an anonymous number.

"Do you remember when you said I would be a blind is an idiot? You know I'd like to see you again before I leave, if you'd like we can make it tomorrow at 8 p.m. I know just the place that would suit us."

"Jesus Christ, how did he get my private number?" She shook her head amused.

"I warn you, I'm very picky with food" she typed, receiving as a response something that made her heart flutter.

"I love a challenge, and I am sure I will be able to win you Eden.”

[marune2]

Ida Faust josele canty ch.2

Summary

Ida josele and Nacht gets in a fight because Ida is concerned for Sterling and it’s did goes out of hand so this they get apart in a bad way and Ida is a mess mostly and Nacht and josele too but Ida does something stupid to protect herself

Colap whit @loosesodamarble

——————————————

Yami shook his head. "I don't know what the hell is going on in Ida's head right now."

"She's not in any state to be interrogated," Heinrich said as he sneered. "She really ought to be kept sedated until we know for sure that she's under control. And I don't think we should press her about the issue lest it triggers her and she goes ballistic again."

"Look, old man, I need figure to this out! Ida's losing her mind. Nacht is pissed as hell. And even Jo's being unreasonable about this." Yami took out a cigarette and lit it up. "The fucked up family continues to be a mess."

"Perhaps it was a mistake for Nacht and Josele to take in that child..."

Yami glanced in Heinrich's direction. The man, far older than his looks gave off, looked tired for the first time since Yami had met him.

"You're joking, right? The kid isn't the problem here."

Heinrich let out a huff. That wasn't an answer. And Heinrich didn't seem in the mood to give straight answers.

Yami exhaled some smoke and left the room. He was hitting brick walls on all sides.

———————————————

Some day’s passet

Josele can’t get over what happened plus Heinrich and yami have warned her this Ida can go after Sterling or them or other worse stuff be honest she is tired and Ida is now on strong medication now to put her out

And Sterling ask why she can’t go to the black bulls and Nacht and her need to reason why she can’t but mainly she can’t tell this Ida lost her mind completely so this josele and Nacht can’t go to her or talk……..

———————-

Ida is completely on drugs right now see yami how Ida play whit Vanessa poker ok ida is half asleep right now but the worst part is Ida’s mentally is this of a little child now under the drugs or it’s because of the mental breakdown

Ida laughing „nessy I win I win!!!!“

Vanessa laughing back“yes you do you a good player ida“

Yami just have a smoke whit he’s news paper he have free so but the pain in the ass is he can’t go to the toilet hide because he need to looking after Ida wo is right now asleep on the table

Yami standing up and take Ida and laying her left to he’s spot nobody say something because all know what going on

Zora just stare „this really fuc€t up I’m going now“as he say it go he out

Vanessa laughing and looking at yami „it’s cute even it’s have a sad back round Ida is so childish“

Yami huffing „true it’s fuc€ing shi€ can’t not even go drinking because your will lost Ida and nobody can’t hold her back like my“

Vanessa „hm true….“

Ida cuddling on Yami now whit her face like a child wile Che sleeping and seemingly have a bad dream yami just stare at her and petting her“ it’s good gremlin I’m here you are safe

Ida open her eyes and nodding just half asleep now and close her eyes again

A Weck after this incident happened

Ida going back to Normal again whit the other don’t realizing

Ida don’t know what to do she wants Sterling Safe should she take her just and go in a other country? It’s not hart for her but Sterling is weak for the strong magic sone and magical beast she know this

Ok Ida know she did make big shi€ ok she believes she should just go away maybe go and think josele and Nacht are mad at her anyway they don’t want to see her anymore anyway…….

Ida:nessy yami I’m sleepy can I go in my room?

Yami looking at her“your sure? Gremlin ok fine your should sleep you looking like shi€

Vanessa smile“sure Ida sleep well and remember if you have nightmares come to my“smile

Ida looking sad“ok love your tow

Yami and Vanessa looking for some sec but nodding

Ida go in her Room and make all ready for go away for a wile ok ida know wo she should go to ichika she know for sure to helping her

And so write Ida a leather and go ok she know she can’t write goodbye letters but it’s will do

——

Yami fell fast Ida’s magic and run fast to Ida’s room it’s empty

Yami looking like oh shit“shi€

Then see he a letter

///////////////

On all

Hello dear family I’m not good in writing this shit I’m sorry for be a bad person I’m sorry for harming your all I’m sorry Nachty and josy I love you I love Sterling plz take care and don’t be shi€ to her it’s whas good to know you goodbye yami don’t give my shi€ to random people just Vanessa and josele and asta’s siblings can take my shi€ I’m away sorry

In caring Manners Ida Faust

//////////////////////

Yami run it cold down he’s spine it’s a „goodbye letter“ from Ida

Yami kick the asses up from the black bulls searching for Ida bevor she do something stupid

The bad part is it too tell Nacht and josele….Fuc€ing hell if he would realize it earlier how Ida whas deeply sad fuc€

Meanwhile, Nacht and Josele were inside Nacht’s office at the Faust Manor. Nacht’s communication device was on his desk, alight with activity. It was Yami’s voice coming through.

“And when I went to her room, all I found was a letter.”

“So she’s just gone?!” Nacht asked with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s basically what I said. Weren’t you paying attention, dumbass?”

Josele’s hand covered her mouth. She knew that the argument had been an ugly one, one that touched upon a rather delicate topic. But Josele, too absorbed in her defensiveness of her and Nacht, had completely missed how hurt Ida had been.

“Oh gods…”

“Not again, dammit…” Nacht muttered.

————————-

Ichika whas just making her job and whas in front of her home as she see Ida crying in front of why is she crying and her Qi is bad like really bad

Ichika:what make you here ida-San why are you crying?!“say she surprised

Ida:I’m in deb shi€ right now I need you help and I don’t know what to do……

Ichika looking surprise she needed though ida would go to her of all people she know

Ida:oh and can you nobody say especially nobody of clover I’m here? I don’t know what to do

Ichika:what did happen?! What have you done?! And why my?!

Ida tells then ichika what happened baisicly whit josele Nacht and Sterling and general the shi€ show

Ichika:ok this is really not good and now you think abaut to kidnap a child or other stuff?

Ida:yes…..I don’t know what to do I’m not make to raise a child especially Sterling is smart she will understand I kidnapped her if I do……

Ichika:well you don’t know if you brother and josele-San are bad parents but Antwort a question ida

Ida:yes

Ichika:are you suicidal right now?

Ida can’t lie but she doesn’t know: I just think about it but if I’m die I’m reborn as a devil whit no memories………and I would don’t fell pain anymore………

Ichika take a deb breath:ok promise you don’t do it and I let you stay as long you want ok? or I kill You really

Ida think about it but nodding: good I do…….at least I have bring my stuff whit my I hold on…….Plz don’t tell you brother I’m here I just need to thinking…….

Ichika:I promise I don’t tell them ok?“smile

Ida just nodding and smile tired back

Ok ichika know ida is not a angel in this situation but josele and Nacht are just idiots how could they not see what going on and make even thinks wors she is really mad at them especially Nacht now have she a Ida wo is eventually a deanger to her self ok she need to talk. Too Ryu-sama about it

——————————

In clover

Noelle:I don’t know wo she could be……..

Vanessa:my to but don’t give up Noelle……….

Vanessa:true I believe captain Yami try to bring Nacht to rest I I can him even her him right now talking whit Nacht and we are out of the house

Noelle:yes I don’t even hear really miss Jose

I’m the building

Yami:your going to fare Nacht stop you need to sleep you didn’t sleep for tree day’s now we can search tomorrow ida will don’t come back if you collapse here right now!!!! scream he at Nacht

Nacht sat hunched over in an arm chair. He was using Felis Mode and extending his and Plumede’s magic as far as it could extend across the continent. He has to keep going.

He had to search every dingy alleyway. Every corner of Clover, Spade, and any other neighboring country. Maybe Ida was still on the continent and unlike ten years ago, his magic was strong enough to overpower any attempts Ida might make of hiding her own shadow from him. He just had to look in the right place first.

“Nacht! You’re going to work yourself sick. And what if Ida isn’t even on the continent anymore?! What then?!” Yami yelled. He reached out to grab and shake his vice captain, only for a pitch black claw to grab his wrist.

“You’re disturbing the Master’s work…” Walgner groaned deeply. He was bigger than usual and his feathers didn’t have their usual softness, instead looking like daggers with each flap of his wings.

Yami clicked his tongue. *So it’s bad enough that his stupid pets are affected by his mood.* He stepped back and glared. “Fine. Don’t accept my help.”

“Go to hell, Yami…” Nacht spoke barely above a whisper. “Just go…”

Nacht bowed his head forward and rested his forehead on clasped hands. Like a prayer. The look didn’t suit Nacht, that was for sure.

Yami left the room since he had hit a brick wall and searched the mansion for Josele. He didn’t find her, but he found her wake of disaster.

The floor of the hallway Yami found himself in was covered in a sludge-like mud. Shards of ice was mixed into the mud, broken by the footsteps of another. A layer of frost climbed up the walls of the hall too.

“Milady! Lady Faust! Do come out, Milady!” One of the manor’s staff rapped her knuckles against Josele’s bedroom door. “Lady Faust, you mustn’t keep moping! You’ll exhaust your- Oh!” The maid caught sight of Yami. “Sir...”

“So she’s in a state, too?” Yami placed his hand on the icy door. “Lemme try. I might have more luck.”

“If you say so.” The maid bowed and left.

Yami took the doorknob in his hand and turned it with little effort. Despite that, the metal gave way and snapped, letting Yami nudge the door open. He was greeted with a sorry sight of Josele pacing her room with fresh mud and ice crystals being created with each footstep.

“Where did we go wrong? Why can’t Ida trust us to be good parents?” Josele said to herself as she paced. “Was it a mistake to become a parent at all? But where was Sterling supposed to go then?! Ohh… why did I snap at her? What is wrong with me?!”

“A lot of things, but I guess you want something specific, huh?”

Josele stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Yami.

“Sukehiro.” The use of his real given name coupled with Josele’s tone made Yami bristle. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know how else to cut in.”

Josele just grounding at him „what are you doing here?“

Sukehiro just glare at here „to looking after you after you idiot husband don’t do pretty well and as fare I see you too jo“

Josele glare back „what want you too hear sukehiro? You did hear and know why we are in the mode why? Why can’t ida trust us why did I snapped at her why? And now she is gone………

Sukehiro just stare at her and go more in „ I understand you point but I can understand Ida really good my parents were shi€y too and trusting someone? Really Ida didn’t get over her trauma even also why shouldn’t she have bad thoughts

Josele glare at him but looking exhausted at him“what do you mean?“

Sukehiro just see more mud and ice „well ida know parenting just as what really bad and grow up whit out someone to protecting her she is like a stray dog even whit ur help she is not over it but she understands how it should be you know?

Josele stare at him“but Ida know we didn’t want something bad from Sterling she remembers her time as a child whit us we didn’t never harm her“beginning to cry

Sukehiro just stare to“ well what did she see as a child Nacht whas a angsty teen wo did go to the dark side and did devil shi€ and other stuff and you? You know how to kill animals and your talk whit Morgan whit the magic night? And so……..and then she did see how Morgan did die

Josele cry“ but we didn’t want something bad!!!!! Why!? Now is she gone and nobody know wo she is!!!!

Sukehiro just stare at her he doesn’t even know wo Ida is or if she did something stupid and the letter doesn’t approve her mental health……..yes he is uncomfortable this Ida is missing

Sukehiro looking at her „I know jo I’m not happy too we all are not happy but she will be for sure just be a Emo child and come back after a wile if not we finde her“laugh

Josele crying „what if not? Nacht can’t finde her!!! What if worse happened because he can’t finde her shadow!!!!

Yami looking now at her yes he know what she mean „look josele Ida wouldn’t do it ida is strong and she is not this worse if she end just like Nacht the idiot“as he say it take he a smoke

Josele sish „ok yami but can you go now I need time…….

Yami just nodding at her „fine but say if something is wrong jo don’t be a idiot

—————————-

After tow day’s

Ryu just looking at ichika and the food she give him „so fare I understand make Ida right now depression cooking right now?

Ichika just nodding „yes she does or she laying around and crying I think you can say nii-San Ida is here

Ryu smile at her „yes it’s would be good her Family getting really sic€ from searching especially her brother I believe they all ready to talk it out I will inform them today sukehiro smoke a lot even after Ida’s fleets here to us………

Ichika just nodding „good I will go now to her see what I can do

Ryu just nodding at her“good Have good luck right now sleep Ida

Ichika nodding and go to home

[justwii]

Miriam haskell jewelry

Retro mixology equipment is a consistently hot seller on eBay and Etsy. If crafted cocktails aren’t your thing, flip your finds for profit. Stock your own bar cart with vintage jiggers, cocktail shakers, mixing beakers and elegant glassware - all for a fraction of retail prices. Move beyond 2-liter plastic bottles and disposable cups. Estate sales are treasure troves of sexy “Mad Men”-era barware. Those days don’t have to be lost forever. Making cocktails used to be a ritual complete with beautiful decanters, drink-specific glasses and elaborate mixing tools. I once bought a 45-piece set of flatware by Dansk for $15 at an estate sale. If you’re buying to resell, look for vintage pieces made by Dansk, Lauffer or Cromargan. Typically, they’re made of heavier-gauge metal and have more interesting designs than contemporary options. I gravitate toward well-made stainless steel sets from the 1960s and 1970s. Whether you’re looking for stainless steel, silver plate or sterling, estate sales are the perfect place to find cutlery. Prefer rhinestones over diamonds? Pieces by famous costume jewelry brands such as Miriam Haskell, Eisenberg and Schiaparelli are highly prized by collectors. Then, buy what you love and try to score complete jewelry suites - matching sets that typically include a necklace, bracelet, brooch and pair of earrings. In my resale business, vintage jewelry - both the real stuff and quality costume jewelry - is always a hot seller.īut before you hit the estate sale circuit, invest in a jewelers’ loupe (your eyes will thank you) and brush up on common gold and silver purity marks. And remember, don’t toss the box! Buyers pay more for toys in their original packaging. If you’re buying to resell, keep an eye out for classic board games, early electronics and toys that inspire personal creativity (think paint-by-number kits, Lite-Brite and Lincoln Logs). See Also: 21 Purchases You Should Never Skimp On Not convinced? Check out these Lego sets that resell for thousands. Vintage toys Salvatore Chiariello / Įveryone gets nostalgic about toys from their childhood, and in the resale business, nostalgia sells. Even better, such tools can be had at an estate sale for a fraction of what new versions would cost. Nearly every estate sale I attend features a little pegboard paradise - a basement workshop or garage filled with essential tools everyone should have.Īlthough they may need a bit of cleaning and TLC, vintage pieces by Craftsman, Skil and Stanley are exceptionally well-made and likely have years of faithful service left in them. And to keep everything in tip-top shape, homeowners had a small stockpile of tools. Tools Bas van der Pluijm / Ī couple of generations ago, folks fixed things instead of simply replacing them. Some estate sale proprietors attempt to mask cigarette, pet and mold odors by using scented candles and strong aerosol sprays. One word of caution: Never buy upholstered furniture without first giving it a smell test - a nose-to-the-fabric sniff. Look for signs of quality like solid wood construction, dovetail joints and bookmatched veneers, as I detail in “ 10 Secrets to Finding Quality Secondhand Furniture.” Whether you’re furnishing an entire house or just a guest room, frequenting estate sales is one way to get good furniture cheap. The following are among the things I always buy at estate sales. But some estate sale deals are better than others. Find them by scouring ads in your local paper, browsing online classifieds sites like Craigslist, or just keeping an eye peeled for posted signs.Įstate sales are sometimes referred to as “tag sales” because everything that’s for sale is tagged with a price.

[untaemedqueen]

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Chapter 19.

Warnings: Excessive Cursing, Angst, Cunnilingus

Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner​, @q1st1na​, @gensneverland​, @autumnnflowers​, @toddsgirl27, @yaniposts22​, @babyboytae1, @dearlydreadful, @vivpurple7, @kthfeed, @probably-trying-too-hard, @si-deus-me-hanyu-senshu, @bts-chub, @ayyyocee, @taeslittletiger, @yeonkiminfr, @xcharlottemikaelsonx , @topthis808, @brilee64, @mini-coop25

"1320." Jimin whispers as you eat your toast. You nod to him as you sit back in your chair at the breakfast nook. He sips his screwdriver before sighing. 

"You aren't healed yet, you shouldn't go in there yet." You pick up your tea before raising an eyebrow at your husband. 

"Mhm." You mumble as Jimin gives you an eye roll. 

"Kitten, we have to go to see Doctor Song today. Can't you wait until you're fully healed?" You stand up before leaning over the table and pecking his lips. He eyes your bare stomach wearily as you smile at him before walking to the closet. 

"My little brat." Jimim mutters before slinging back the rest of his screwdriver.

You open the chamber door before wrinkling your nose. 

"Hi, Four." You say with a sweet smile as you step into the large room. Four is chained to the wall, arms spread out as well as legs as she lifts her head. 

"I brought you food." You say putting the tray down on the floor and kicking it towards her. 

She lifts her head as Jimin steps into the room behind you. You fix your black dress before sitting down on the chair next to the door. You look over at the table of clean torturing devices as the sterling silver sparkles in the bright light of the room. 

"How are you?" You ask putting your fist under your chin as you cross your legs. 

"Fuck you, bitch." You hum in agreement as Jimin closes the door putting his leg up against it as he leans back. Four spits at the tray of food before meeting your eyes. 

"I'm terrified." Jimin smirks as he sips his glass of whisky before looking at his watch. 

"Listen, Four. Just do me a favor and tell me what the Jungs want? Hmm? And then this will all be over." Four stands and as she does the chains through the wall get pulled tighter to restrain her. Interesting technology to have, you look up at Jimin impressed who simply shrugs with a wink. 

"I'm not telling you a fucking thing. You little cunt." You smile before tying your hair up in a ponytail. 

"You will. I'm sure. Make sure you eat. Gotta keep up your strength to keep fighting the good fight." You stand up and Jimin goes to open the door. 

"I hope Kim Shin kills your sister and rapes her dead body." Jimin takes in a deep breath as you still. 

"What did you just say?" Your vision going red, your neck turning at a frightening speed that makes Four blink quickly. 

"Kitten." Jimin calls as you grab the bread off of the tray. 

"Say what you just said." You step over the tray before stepping in front of Four as the restraints press her up against the wall uncomfortably. You grab her face, your nails digging into her skin making her flinch. You slap her cheek hard before pulling at her chin. 

"Open your mouth." She spits in your face and you scoff stepping back and wiping your face with your sleeve. 

"Hey, baby!" Jimin says quickly as he rushes towards you, you elbow Four in the stomach making her mouth drop open in pain. You shove the bread into her mouth before pushing her jaw closed. 

"Choke on it, you bitch." You spit in her face before Jimin grabs your arm and pulling you back towards the door. 

"Think of the baby, hmm? Think of our baby." Jimin whispers in your ear as you keep your eyes locked on Four. 

"They're going to get you!" She yells, spitting the bread out onto the floor. 

"Not before I get you first, you little bitch." Jimin rips open the door before pulling you out into the hallway.

You stare out the car window, watching as the Seoul streets pass you by. The beautiful trees lining the sidewalks dotted with bright green leaves. Jimin side eyes you as you put your hand on your stomach. The car ride was silent, not uncomfortably, just silent. 

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Jimin asks, trying to break the silence, you turn your head to him with a smirk as he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers. 

"I'm not sure. What do you want?" 

"A boy." Jimin says absentmindedly as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. 

"Boy first then a girl. So he takes care of his little sister." You raise an eyebrow, 

"Oh so you had plans for this to happen?" Jimin snorts before pulling into the VIP parking space. 

"No, but I've been thinking about it a lot more lately. Sometimes I lay in bed awake at night, rubbing your stomach just thinking." Jimin shuts the car off before putting on his sunglasses. 

"Thinking what?" He looks in the mirror before fixing his hair. 

"Thinking how lucky I am that I have you, how lucky we are to be having a baby. The future, how miserable I was before you. That shit." He says as you unbuckle your seat belt. You hum to him as he opens up the glove compartment and grabbing his gun. As he leans over he kisses your cheek making you smile. 

"You definitely bring a joy to my life I didn't have before." He opens his car door before hopping out, you stare at the hospital through the windshield as Jimin opens your door. 

"Okay, let's go see our little bean." He says slinging his arm over your shoulders as you step out of the Bentley.

You lay down on the table, legs up in the stirrups as Doctor Song sits in front of you squirting cold gel onto the end of what you could only describe as an alien probe. 

"So you can do everything then? Heal people, be an ob/gyn, do surgery." You say impressed, making Jimin smile as he fixes his suit jacket before sitting down in the chair next to you. 

"Yes, I've been doing this a long time." You hum to him as he looks up at you taking off his glasses. 

"You might feel some discomfort, just take some deep breaths." You nod as the sonogram machine invades you. You grip on to Jimin's hand at the awkward feeling. Jimin stares at the screen, his lips to the back of your hand as he waits with bated breath to see his child. 

"Have you had any morning sickness?" You nod fervently,

"A lot but I've never thrown up, just queasiness. And, I'm always tired." Doctor Song nods.

"Yeah, that can happen. That's good though, means your body is changing for your child." Jimin smiles kissing your hand again. 

"Breast tenderness?" Jimin nods thinking of his advances on you yesterday that were fought off by your tender pain. You roll your eyes, shoving him with your elbow. 

"That's good too. Your body is getting ready to make milk." Jimin's eyes begin to light up as the screen goes from black to being dotted with light grey. You cringe uncomfortable as the probe reaches your cervix. Doctor Song clears his throat before looking at the screen as he angles the probe. Appearing on the screen was a small body, incredibly tiny that makes Jimin gasp. 

"That's your baby." Doctor Song says and you smile. He begins to take measurements as Jimin's eyes begin to water. 

"Wow." He whispers, kissing your hand. 

"The baby is seven weeks and two days, roughly. This is what will make you cry." Doctor Song tells Jimin as he pushes a button. 

The sound of a heartbeat comes on and it comes out strong. The noise filling your ears as Jimin does indeed cry. His eyes screwing shut as he puts his forehead to your hand. You giggle before leaning over and kissing the top of his head. 

"What do you think Mrs. Park?" Doctor Song asks with a smile.

"I think the baby looks like a worm." Jimin clicks his teeth before narrowing his tear filled eyes at you. 

"A cute worm." You clarify making Doctor Song laugh. 

"Is the baby healthy? Is it safe?" Jimin asks, wiping at his face. Doctor Song nods looking at the screen. 

"Strong heart beat, the baby is the right size for its age. Everything looks normal so far. In a month you can come back and we'll do another sonogram." Jimin nods before standing up and kissing you. 

"Thank you, for giving me a child." After seeing his child Jimin was sure, he could never love anything more in his entire life. He would do everything and anything for his family. No matter what. Doctor Song prints out a few pictures before handing them to Jimin. Jimin bows his head before pulling money out of his pocket and handing it to the doctor. 

"Thank you so much." Doctor Song bows to him and then to you. 

"See you in a month." You bow your head to him before closing your legs. With the help of your husband your feet find the floor as you groan at the tenderness of your back. 

"Take it easy, when we go home you two can take a nap, okay? You and little bean can sleep." It was odd to hear the sweet nickname coming from him but you couldn't help but smile.

You lay down on the bed as Two hands you a tea. Jimin takes off his suit jacket before throwing it on the chair. 

"Thanks Two." She gives you a gentle smile as you groan sitting up against the headboard. Jimin pulls the pictures of your child out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed, his thumb running over the picture. 

"Amazing, isn't it?" He asks before looking at you, you tilt your head and give him a smile. He smirks before turning his head back down to the picture. 

"Seven months and the baby will be here. Wah. So crazy." He mumbles as Two leaves the bedroom. 

You sip your tea as Jimin throws himself back on to the bed, the picture held high above his face as he stares at it. His dress shirt rises to show his abs as he smiles at the picture. 

"I wish my parents were here to see this." He mumbles before clearing his throat and furrowing his eyebrows. He rarely talks about them, it was nice to hear him voice his thoughts freely. 

"They would love you." He presses the picture to his heart before caressing your calf. You hum in appreciation before giggling. 

"Big bad mafia bosses have hearts then, huh?" He snorts before turning on to his side putting his hand underneath his head. 

"Only for their loved ones, I'm sure." You chuckle before setting your tea aside. He puts his hand on your stomach before laying his head down on his arm. 

"You know... Last year... I tried to kill myself." You freeze at his words before sitting up straighter. Jimin hums at your surprise. 

"Yeah, I know. The all powerful lion tries to off himself. But, I did. I did try. Jeongguk found me, saved my life as per usual." 

"Why?" You find yourself asking as Jimin puts his cheek on your stomach. 

"Because I felt like I had no purpose. I was supposed to just sell guns and kill people without anything of my own for the rest of my life? No family, no love in my heart. I had nothing." You nod to him before sniffling. A world without Jimin would be no better off. Although he does what he does, he deserves to be happy too. 

"Now I have a wife, y'know? A child coming." 

"An escort business." You say making him laugh. He sighs before kissing your stomach and sitting up. "It's all coming together. Everything is falling into place."

You stare at the chamber door, the house was silent. Jimin sleeping soundly as you enter the code into the door pad. You open the door before stepping inside and sitting down crossing your legs. Your eyes on Four as she sleeps on the cold ground. You turn the lights on blinking at the brightness before clearing your throat as you close the door behind you. 

"Good morning Four." You say loudly looking at the tray from this morning. She stirs from her sleep and you put your fingers to your lips whistling loudly. She lifts her head with a groan and you fold your arms before smiling at her. 

"Hi there." She sits up cringing as she puts her head back to the wall. She looks filthy, her hair becoming a rats nest of tangles as you smirk. 

"Did you miss me for the past month?" She spits in your direction and you nod. 

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." Your hormones were raging, just one mishap on Four's part and you would tear her apart like an animal without any remorse. 

"Fuck you, bitch." You hum to her before standing up. 

"It's not...uncommon to have anger towards someone who deserves it. But, I haven't done anything to you." She narrows her eyes at you, sleep encrusting the corners of her eyes as you crouch down a few feet away from her. 

"You have no idea what you've done." She says with venom in her voice. You snap your fingers before pointing at her. 

"Exactly! You're right. So why is it that you cut me? I don't even know you." You sit on the floor cross legged and she does the same. 

"I don't hate you Four, I thought you were pretty and a nice girl and look, you almost killed me and my child." You say with a shrug, her face pales at your sentence. 

"Y-You're pregnant?" You nod to her before tilting your head. 

"I promise you, anything that the Jungs said to you, promised you. Will no longer come true. Ever. I mean you live in here now." You point at the steel walls. She swallows before looking at the floor.

There was silence for a short while. Four looking at the floor and then back up at you countless times. You groan standing back up. 

"I didn't know you were pregnant." 

"Neither did I." She clears her throat as you walk back to the chair. Four stares at the large pink scar she caused before sighing. 

"I'm not a violent person." She promises you.

"What did they promise you?" She goes quiet again as you sit back down on the chair. 

"I love him." She says quickly, you lean forward as her comment peaks your interest. 

"Who?" She opens her mouth to answer as the door is shoved open. Jimin stands wide eyed before sighing.

"Who?" You ask again louder annoyed that he came in. Four looks up at Jimin before laying back down on the floor without a word. 

"You should be sleeping! What are you doing in here? The baby needs rest!" Jimin says loudly, you sigh putting your hands to your face. 

"Four, just tell me who." You beg of her before shoving Jimin's chest. 

"Get to bed." He whispers, shoving the door open wider. You yell out in anger towards him.

"Four!" She looks up at you through her dirty hair and you sigh. 

"Go, Kitten. Both of you need your rest." You stand up before shoving him as you walk out of the room. He sighs loudly.

"Kitten!" He says as he closes the door shut behind him as you barrel towards the bedroom before slamming the door behind you. 

You could have had it. The answer was right there, she could have told you if Jimin hadn't come in. You pace the room putting your hands to your hair grabbing fistfuls. Jimin enters before leaning against the doorpost. 

"Baby-" 

"I could have had it! She was talking to me!" He watches you running his fingers through his hair. 

"You need to sleep. You're obsessing over this." He says as you narrow your eyes at him. 

"I COULD HAVE HAD IT. SHE WAS GOING TO GIVE ME A NAME." You scream at the top of your lungs before closing your eyes out of frustration. Jimin licks his lips.

"I don't care, you're more important that a name! You need to take care of yourself!" You scoff before putting your hands over your face. 

"They could have killed our fucking baby. I want answers and I want them now. I COULD HAVE HAD MY FUCKING ANSWER. RIGHT THERE!" Jimin nods before pressing his hands together. 

"Kitten, I'm sorry but you're more important to me than finding out a name. Okay? You need to calm down, it's not good for the baby." He steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. 

"Are you taking this seriously? Are you taking any of this seriously? Your retribution for the Jungs, do you even fucking care? What if they killed me, if they killed our baby?" Jimin groans out in frustration. 

"Of course I fucking care! I've been killing off every Jung I see that looks at us the wrong way." 

"WELL IF I HAD THAT NAME YOU COULD JUST GO FOR ONE PERSON!" Jimin walks towards you before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"That may be true, but I will not have you losing sleep over this. We will find out the name, we will figure this out." His touch makes you calm down, against your own will which is frustrating. He rubs your lower back soothingly, kissing your cheek and your neck. 

"I promise, we'll find out the name. But, if you don't lay the fuck down and sleep every night from now on, I'm making her a warehouse body." You put your forehead to his chest before punching his arm. 

"Go ahead. Take your frustration out on me. Hit me, punch me. But, I won't apologize for coming and getting you. I want what's best for the both of you. And, the best thing at night is to sleep." You sigh, he's right. Your rage is unrelenting towards her, you can't stop thinking about it when you lay in bed at night. 

"Okay." You whisper as he pulls back. 

"Okay?" You nod to him and he kisses your lips gently. 

"Lay down." He tells you nodding to the bed as he pours himself a shot of whisky. You pad over to the bed before laying down as he shoots back the shot. 

"Don't you ever fucking ask me if I care about you and the baby, again. You must be out of your fucking mind to ask me something like that." He says slamming the glass on to the table. You sigh, putting your face into the pillow as he walks over towards you. 

"You know you're my world, so is our baby. You are really something else." Jimin scoffs as he kneels down in between your legs. 

"You hear me?" He asks loudly and you look up at him and nod. He lifts up your nightgown before kissing your stomach. You pick your head up confused as his lips begin to trail lower. 

"Nu-uh!" You say shoving at his head as he pushes your thong away from your core. 

"Lay down and shut up." He tells you, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. You swallow before doing as told as Jimin pushes your legs open wider. 

"Daddy will make you forget about everything outside of this room." He pulls your thong off of you and you take in a deep breath. He kisses at your pussy lips, spreading them open with his fingers to lewdly look at your cunt. 

"Jimin I-" He looks up at you again and you shut your mouth. 

"Who am I?" You whimper out as you close your eyes. His tongue runs a flat lick over you that has you panting within seconds. Jimin begins to give kitten licks to your clit, your thighs squeezing around his head. 

"Fuck!" Jimin pulls away making you whine. You hadn't had something between you in a long while and this was overdue. 

"Answer me. Who am I?" His fingers begin to tease your opening picking up your wetness as your pussy becomes swollen for him. 

"Daddy!" You whine out pulling at his hair. 

"Good girl." His lips find purchase against you once more, sucking at your swelling clit as he enters a finger into you. You open your eyes to watch him eat you out. His cheeks beginning to become coated in you arousal. 

"Daddy, fuck. Yes!" Jimin hums in agreement before adding another finger. 

His fingers pumping in and out of you at a steady pace as you moan loudly. Your stomach tightening and feeling as if it is swelling as you grab fistfuls of Jimins hair. He begins to moan himself as he feels your cunt beginning to throb for him. 

"Oh shit, Daddy!" Your eyes rolling back as your mouth goes dry. 

Just a few more harsh suckles and the curling of his fingers on the rough patch within you has you orgasming your husbands name loudly. Jimin pulls back watching you as you ride out your high. His fingers going at a slower pace as he smirks before licking his lips. You open your eyes before whimpering out and opening your arms making him chuckle. 

"That's my good little kitty." He wipes his mouth before laying down next to you. 

"I don't want you going to that door after 8 o'clock, you hear me, baby?" You nod tiredly as you put your face into his chest. 

"That's my good girl." He whispers putting his hand on your stomach.

[jinxfirebolt18902]

Ohana Part 2 - (Ben Hardy!Warren Worthington III Serie)

Words: 1.824

Summary: Warren accidentally made a family of his own and he’s determined to do anything in his will to protect them, but maybe that won’t be enough and a little help may be needed.

A/N: I don’t like this that much but for now it will do, sorry. And sorry for the delay, Uni is killing me.

Part 1

[GIF NOT MINE]

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and the only thing that had changed was the little family’s life expectations and health deteriorating. Every other mutant had catched up with the news. Not only Angel had been re-captured but also Mockingbird… and their brood. It had caused quite a reaction around the place. First of all, an offspring coming out of both of them was obviously unplanned, and revolutionary somehow. On the other hand, everyone knew humans were capable of committing terrible atrocities against mutants, no news there. But taking a child who had so far showed no abnormality at all into an illegal, unsanitary, fight club was beyond what every mutant could expect. It was clear a few workers felt uncomfortable with the situation as well but they only followed rules and got paid, so the best they could do was sneak Warren’s cage next to hers for a few minutes. Yet it was extremely risky and had only happened twice in over seventy days.

Their bodies had changed. Warren’s torso had now new scars striping his white skin. She was thinner and looked pretty sick. She always gave most of her food to Charlie to make sure he wasn’t hungry. The food quality alone was pretty bad. Dehydration and malnutrition were slowly but surely making their way within their organisms, not to mention the exposure to viruses and infections. The walls were rotten with moisture as well as the remaining wooden doors. The metal ones were rusty and the place had no heating except for the showroom. Clouds of cigarette smoke hung in the rooms as the ventilation wasn’t great either. There was no possible way of not getting sick, especially if you weren’t eating well, or if you had a four-year-old’s immune system.

Charlie’s spirits were of general concern. The other women in her room tried their best to cheer him up and keep him entertained. It wasn’t really difficult as he was so young and creative games easily got him focused. The problem was Mockingbird was losing her life, in every sense. The red-headed lady had warned her, she had to be strong for her son, but even if she tried her body was collapsing gradually. Her mind had tricked her as well. She’d convinced herself she wasn’t the strong lonely winged girl she was years ago. That rough girl had disappeared and the new Mockingbird couldn’t find the strength within herself to keep going. Everyday was a new battle against life, and each one that passed was making her wonder when she would finally lose. She had been put to fight mutants a few times and each had ended with her barely conscious, Charlie being forced to stay with a stranger in another cage and forbidden to look at her injured mother till the next day. The first time they took her a lot of shouting happened.

Two men came in the room unexpectedly, wasting no time in opening her cage. She couldn’t even understand what was going on until a third man ripped Charlie off her arms and handed him over the next cage, the other two grabbing her by one of her arms each. Her brain couldn’t process the fact they had taken her son away from her for the first time since they were there, a guttural scream stuck in her throat as her eyes explored everywhere around her in desperation. The female mutant known as Birdy held Charlie’s hand in concern as the little boy was terrified watching his mom being drawn through the door, tears falling down his pink cheeks and cries escaping his mouth.

As soon as she was being carried down the hall her voice suddenly screeched at the top of her lungs. Warren’s head, which was blankly staring at an invisible point on the floor, shot up at the recognition of the scream. He stood up at a speed he hadn’t thought he could and shouted back, trying to put his head between the bars in a failed attempt to catch a glimpse of something, anything. Apparently she heard him, managing to stop the men from walking further.

—Warren?!

He called back but the men had already moved again, pulling her towards the big cage. Warren was beyond mad. He pushed so hard against the lock of the cage the motion sent it completely over itself. The commotion caused a crew to come check what Warren had done. As they began lifting his cage Warren grasped the collar of one of them pulling him against the bars, the nose of the guy bent against the cold material. He could feel Warren’s breath all over his face.

—Where the fuck are you taking her? —the question filled with menace. — Where is my son?! —this time he shouted it, spitting mini droplets onto his skin.

The other men helped the hostage and took a few feet away from Angel as they feared his unpredictable behaviour, taking his rapid breaths and visible neck veins as a warning. They told him. His expression became instantly one of worry. No… No, she can’t…

After twenty minutes of show, Mockingbird was being dragged back to her cage, a sight which, although Warren didn’t see, Edgar made sure to detail only to enjoy the frustration and helplessness in his eyes.

Charlie hadn’t stopped crying till one of the girls with vocal powers sang him a lullaby. When the door opened and they brought her in several gasps were heard. Though Birdy had the toddler asleep in her arms, she turned in case he would open his sterling grey eyes and see the decrepit state of his mom.

The other times she was recruited were pretty similar. Lots of shouting, crying and useless anger. Now it had been weeks since the last time she fought yet her body was no better. Bruises still lingered in her skin, which was grey not only due to the dirt but also to illness. Her mouth was dry with her lips all cracked and her eyes half open. She couldn’t say if her muscles didn’t hurt or if they hurt so bad that she could no longer tell the difference.

—Mommy…? —the little boy left the made up toys given by the red-headed lady and approached her, making himself comfortable on her lap. A sneeze interrupted his unstarted sentence. He’d been sneezing and coughing a lot the last three days. —I miss daddy. —her head barely moved to look at him. She couldn't contain her own tears. With a movement that took a tremendous energy out of her, she held her hand up to caress the boy’s hair. She grunted in pain as she kissed his forehead.

—I know baby… me too. —her voice was hoarse and low. Every breath was an exertion.

A few hours later things were silently getting worse. It was the coldest day they had spent there. A thick snow cape covered Germany’s streets and buildings. Tonight a big fight featuring Angel and a really fat mutant had the air filled with excitement. It was the red-headed mutant the one who noticed it. Firmly setting her sight on Mockingbird she noticed she was breathing shallowly. She sensed something was wrong.

—Hey! Chs... You! —her voice got the attention of some other mutants. —Mockingbird!

No response. Her eyes drifted to the baby boy shivering in his sleep. He was covered in sweat and snot fell from his little nose. He was probably running a fever. They had to do something. She sent a look at her partners and they secretly set to work in order to do what they had to do first: let Warren know what was going on.

—Holy shit… —a young boy muttered when he got the news. He didn’t want to be the one telling Angel his girlfriend was dying right then and there, a few rooms away with his son suffering from fever on her lap. He swallowed forcibly.

 —Uhm… A-Angel?

Warren slowly turned his head in his direction. When the boy faced those empty cold eyes he muted, taking a few seconds to gain his composure and carry on with his task. —Women say your-your g-she. Women say she—Warren furrowed his eyebrows and stood up at a low pace, grabbing the bars for help. Panicking the mutant didn’t know how to say it and only got himself tangled in an unintelligible utterance. —Spit it out at once!

—They say she’s dying! —the boy shouted, closing his eyes as if trying to hide himself. When he opened them tho, he saw the blonde falling in shock. No anger, no eruption like a volcano, no tears, no breaths, only a blink as his body collapsed against the bars once more, the freezing material embracing him.

—There 's more. Your son. He 's very sick. —another mutant added.

He didn’t respond. Instead he turned his head towards the door and started shouting non-stop at the top of his lungs.

A third of an hour later, men came to carry his cage to the show but left him in the corridor that led to the electrified gate, not inside yet.

—YOU MOTHER FUCKERS LET ME OUT! —Warren’s cheeks and ears were pink. The veins in his neck and forehead stood out. His hair couldn't be more tangled and greasy. His breathings were rapid and he was sweating all over. His throat was already burning from so much shouting. He had to save her. He had to save them.

—Well well well… It’s my champ number one, isn’t it? —Warren’s face contorted with rage at Edgar’s appearance on the other side of his cage.

—They are dying. Get them help right now... and you can keep me for the rest of my life. —his tone was firm but somewhat pleading at the same time.

Edgar’s face stretched with a sardonic smile. And Warren lost any hope he had, leaving a deep hollow in his soul. There was nothing left, he’d lose them, maybe not Charlie, but… Everything he had got to know about love, about having a family that cares for you, about life actually not being that bad… It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he be happy? Why couldn’t people live and let live? He and his little family hadn’t done anything to anyone…

Half an hour later the crowd was full. He heard noises, shouts, voices, but not words. The blinding white light fell on him on one side and on the other mutant opposite him.

—Ladies and gentlemen! Weeeeeelcome to this exciting night with our champion number one, Angeeeeeel!!!

The front side of his cage opened allowing him to step in. He had decided to hate life. From now on, not a heart would keep beating if they came in his way. His opponent was about to pay for all the damage Angel had gone through, and boy it wasn’t going to be pretty.

[will-in-the-wild]

WILLOW MACDONALD (FREYA MAVOR) is an EIGHTEEN year old teenager from EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND. She is known as THE WILDFIRE because she’s CONFIDENT and EMPATHETIC but can also be TEMPERAMENTAL and DEFENSIVE. She reminds you of hand-rolled cigarettes, crumpled flowers, ink-stained fingers. 

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: Willow May Macdonald

NICKNAMES: Will, Willie

BIRTHDAY: June 28th

AGE: 18

HOMETOWN: Edinburgh, Scotland

BIRTHPLACE: Glasgow, Scotland

RELIGION: Agnostic

ETHNICITY: White 

NATIONALITY: Scottish

EDUCATION: Working toward A Levels in English Literature, Health and Social Care, and Religious Studies. 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

SOCIAL CLASS: Working class

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 5′ 9″

EYES: Blue

HAIR: Blonde

BUILD: Slim, bordering on scrawny

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scar from a dog bite on her left calf

NOTABLE FEATURES: An abundance of freckles, more so the longer she spends in the sun. 

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: None

ALLERGIES: Lavender

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR

HOBBIES: Writing, loom knitting, long walks in the night hours. 

LIKES: Reading, indie music, strong coffee, Barbie movies

DISLIKES: Sunburn, people who ask too many questions, improv comedy

QUIRKS: Prone to pun use, plaits her hair when frustrated, yawns in too high a pitch

STRENGTHS: Maternal, stoic, willing to get unpleasant shit done

WEAKNESSES: lack of survival skills, need for validation, tendency to forget to explain what she’s doing 

POSITIVE TRAITS: Clever, empathetic, adaptable

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Hot headed, caustic, impulsive

MENTAL DISABILITIES: Depression

SHARE 5 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER

Will won her first competition at the age of eight for a story turning her grouchy headteacher into an octopus. To the best of her knowledge, it’s still framed on the wall of his office. 

She’s been the unofficial primary carer for her sister, Alice, since her dad passed away a year ago and Mum had to work double to cover their bills.

Once entered a talent competition with her best friend, taking third place for their off-key (but enthusiastic) rendition of ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’. Even now she remembers most of the words, and counts it as her party trick.

Her father was French, which meant that a lot of Will’s childhood summers were spent overseas with his side of the family. She’s fluent in the language as a result of her paternal grandmother refusing point blank to speak English to her. 

In the winter months she makes beanies and mittens, selling them through Facebook for a little extra cash. 

WHAT WAS YOUR CHARACTER WEARING ON THE FLIGHT?

- A pair of light blue mom jeans, rolled at the ankles. 

- A basic black cami

- Mismatched socks--one decorated with plump red strawberries, the other pink and white striped.

- A hand-knitted black jumper, oversized and originally belonging to her father. Twin holes in the elbows had been covered by white cotton patches. 

- Black and white checked Vans classic slip ons

- Sterling silver nose ring

PLEASE LIST 3 PERSONAL ITEMS OF YOUR CHARACTER THAT WASHED UP ON SHORE

1. A hideously pink teddy bear, borrowed from her infant sister for the trip. 

2. An A5 notebook, its pages once filled with scraps of ideas, now sodden and useless

3. A travel bottle of Listerine mouthwash

[chakazard]

When it is done right, there is nothing cooler than professional wrestling. When it is done right, you can see colorful characters doing battle and feel like you are part of a community. Wrestling should be for everybody, but sadly its history has not always lived up to welcoming those who are not straight men. For five hours on Saturday, April 24, in the backyard of an abandoned(?) house in Pittsburgh, in the rain, one of the coolest and most entertaining wrestling shows ever took place. MV Young presided over the proceedings of the 3rd installment of the PolyAm Cult Party.

If you have never seen MV Young, imagine the most jacked version of Billy Idol you can. He is polyamorous, pansexual, fashionable, claims to have thousands upon thousands of sexual partners, is charismatic enough that nobody doubts it, he brings a real DIY punk rock feeling into indie wrestling, and has built a brand so strong that everybody accepts “PolyAm Cult Party 3” as an excellent name for a wrestling show despite being a far cry from “the Royal Rumble” or “SuperBrawl.” MV is the Wrestler’s Lab Champion, the King of the PolyAm Cult, he straddles lines between subcultures, is always defiant to his detractors, and ready to boost his followers. He also has one of the most refreshing visions of pro wrestling and its future, and this show that he created was a resounding success.

Appropriately, the pre-show entertainment at the PolyAm Cult Party was punk band Big Baby. This show brings the energy of a backyard punk show to wrestling. The intermission was provided by drag superstar Washington Heights. These three art forms/subcultures can absolutely fit perfectly together, enhancing one another and growing the audience for each. This also serves as a perfect description for the vibe of the Party, wrestling + punk + drag = PolyAm Cult Party 3. The other crossover star in attendance was Commander Sterling (whom I am familiar with from Kate Nyx’s Generic Winter Holiday Special), who returned to the Party, bringing a sizable following of non-wrestling fans to watch them both wrestle and manage evil lawyer David Lawless, having turned full heel since the last Party when they served as the ring announcer.

Many of the wrestlers at the Party fit into the LGBTQIA spectrum, but most of them do not make it the major part of their persona, and none of them felt like they were booked for this reason, or to fill a role, or like they were chosen for any reason other than their abilities. Unlike some “specialty” shows, the wrestling was the main course at the Party, and every aspect of a good wrestling show was on display. We saw hard hitting strikes, high flying flips, heel beatdowns, babyfaces overcoming adversity, comedy, an epic Scrumble, and a few huge stars, like Lee Moriarty and Allison Katch. Wrestlers were given the freedom to fully express their personas and we saw wrestlers CPA return to an old identity to battle former WWE Superstar Colin Delaney, and Allison Katch utterly destroy the fandom’s perception of her with her new one. Wrestlers of every shape and size also featured at the Party, from the diminutive Yoya to the aptly named Big Callux. None of the matches on the show felt like foregone conclusions (except Callux’s squash of The Bird) and none of the events of the day felt forced or like an illogical swerve.

The show started in grand and appropriate fashion, with the Satanic El Presidente Pinkie Sanchez standing atop a Jeep (one of the unique elements of this literal backyard show). To the dismay of the crowd, he lost his contest to Darius Carter, an overly serious and egotistical wrestler with a phenomenal jacket who made a perfect heel for the gathered Cultists. Over the course of the day we saw the technical wizardry of Edith Surreal (whose matches have been appointment viewing for me since the last PolyAm Cult Party) as she triumphed over the similarly impressive Eel O’Neal, Shawn Phoenix using a flaming board as a weapon in the scrumble before being one of several opponents to fall to Mikey Banker, before Aspyn the Mermaid claimed the victory for her simps, and a good ol’ meaty hoss fight between Mr. Grim and Chase Holliday, a hard hitting battle between Xavier Faraday and Yoya. MV Young defended his belt against Jody the Wrestler, who won over a large part of the crowd with his fighting spirit despite facing the leader of the Cult, unforgettably incorporating a cigarette into the match en route to a successful defense. Cold blooded villain Charles Mason upset indie wrestling superstar Lee Moriarty in the pouring rain (and earned an “Eat The Rich” chant from the crowd, because the PolyAm Cult is an excellent and discerning fanbase). Molly McCoy had a standout match in the second PolyAm Cult Party in a row, falling to the terrifying badass Allison Katch, and Ziggy Haim defeated Janai Kai early in the night and came back from a beatdown on her way to winning the Ryse Wrestling Championship and the adulation of the entire crowd in the main event.

You might assume that a wrestling show being broadcast free on Twitch from a backyard during a rainstorm would not have great production standards, but GoProfessionalWrestling ran a tight ship, correcting all technical difficulties in a manner of seconds. Commentators Darnell (from Uncanny Attractions) and Scotty Sariti were a great team of personalities without detracting from the action in the ring, and Percy Davis has become one of the best commentators in indie wrestling. No ring announcer brings as much excitement as J Rose and this Party was the perfect event to showcase his passion. Even referees Nick Shin and Katy Vella were excellent and untiring for the length of the Party. The atmosphere around the ring included a firepit, several trees, and the aforementioned Jeep and all of these were used as weapons, though effectively and sparingly. None of the matches went too long and all of the wrestlers were welcome additions to the show.

In conclusion, wrestling does not need to be the same thing it has always been. It doesn’t need to play with the fans expectations. It doesn’t need to gatekeep people out of the fandom and it sure as fuck doesnt need to be uninviting to people of various genders, sexual orientations, races and religions. Wrestling is best when it gives us compelling characters that we want to see do cool shit in and around a ring, and when fans will sit for over five hours through a rainstorm I’d say the PolyAm Cult Party 3 delivered in abundance. Check out the replay on GoProfessionalWrestling’s Twitch channel and join the muthafuckin PolyAm Cult.

[angstyachesplus]

Febuwhump Day 13: Hiding Injury

Focuses more on the aftermath of a hidden injury. Being exposed to Aaron’s whims too many times has left Sterling in a bad way, causing Morgan to finally take notice.

CW: mention of broken/fractured bones, finger whump, bandages, overworked whumpee, injured whumpee. Also: caretaking.

Sterling watched, her ribs aching with hollow longing, as Morgan bandaged up her fingers, pulling the cloth tightly over the splints she’d fashioned out of pared-down pencils.

“Can’t believe you’ve been filming all this time with broken fingers,” Morgan murmured. “Are you stupid, or somethin’?”

“I might be,” Sterling confessed, turning over her hand and testing the wiggle room left for her knuckled to bend. There was precisely none, but the effort of trying still hurt like hell and made her wince. “Does this mean I can’t play the keyboard for a while?”

“You’ve been playing the keyboard with your fingers like that, too?” Morgan rubbed at the side of her head before grabbing a cigarette from her desk. Instead of lighting it, she began tapping it against the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m startin’ to feel like you just cheated out of my valuable time, fixing you up, if you’re just gonna keep doing reckless shit for no reason.”

Sterling held her bandaged hand to her chest, blinking as embarrassment washed over her face. “I – I wouldn’t say it’s for no reason. Ever since all of this…”

She gestured outwards, towards the house and the island as a whole.

“I don’t know, I’ve – I’ve found it hard to breathe? And when I’m playing, it’s just that little bit easier on my lungs, for some reason. For a few minutes, I can forget what the world perceives me as, and be the way I perceive myself. Although, it’s – it’s getting harder to perceive myself as anything these days.”

Vague impatience crossed Morgan’s face, but she didn’t say anything or look up as Sterling got to her feet.

“I don’t know if that even makes sense. I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to your work. Thank you, for – you know – patching me up,” Sterling chuckled, the fingers of her strong hand semi-consciously stroking the length of the splints as she turned to leave the editing studio. She couldn’t explain the tingling anxiety that had taken root in her bones – the fractured ones and the healthy ones both.

“I perceive you, Anita Sterling.”

Sterling’s eyes widened as she glanced back; Morgan was lighting up her cigarette now. Sterling’s heart did a flip as those earthy-green eyes glanced up at her, as casual as though she’d said nothing at all. But Sterling had heard it.

“How you find out my first name?”

“I have my ways,” Morgan mumbled from behind her cigarette. A small puff escaped her lips as she removed it, pinching it between her thumb and her forefinger. “Now, get out.”

Sterling nodded. Her lips were chapped, and they ached even more as she attempted a smile. “See you later.”

[falloutglow]

Heart of the City

It's been a week since the daring rescue of Vault 114. A week since Echo set foot in Diamond City. A week to discover that life in Diamond City isn’t all it's cracked up to be.

Nick Valentine & Echo

4318 words [AO3]

Echo adjusted her bag, mentally going through a checklist as she opened her door into the Dugout Inn. Vadim was busy wiping his counter. Across the room, Scarlet swept dust and crumbs into a pile as a few customers chatted away, eating and drinking. Dogmeat squeezed past her and trotted towards the exit. She gently closed her door, and as briskly as possible, headed towards the exit after Dogmeat.

“Ah, there’s our mystery mouse!” Vadim’s voice boomed behind her. She closed her eyes and sucked in her breath.

Damn it.

She turned on her toes as she heard the front exit open and shut. Wow. Ditched by her own dog too. She forced a grin on her face as she was tugged back to the counter with Vadim’s strong words and ever friendly glow.

“Mornin’ Vadim,” she greeted, pushing her sunglasses closer to her face, checking to make sure they were still there.

“Come sit.” He commanded with a hearty laugh, patting the bar, “You haven’t had most important meal yet.”

“I’m not much of a breakfast eater-.”

His laugh boomed. Echo winced. He tossed his rag onto his shoulder. “Look at you little mouse,” he wiped a tear from his eye, “You need hardy meal or you’ll waste away. Be pile of clothes.”

She quirked a brow, but said nothing as she pressed her lips together. Scarlet groaned loudly as she continued to sweep. Echo had to agree, it was much too early for this.

“Mmm, an omelette and some meat is what you need.” He nodded to himself as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

Echo’s mouth watered as she mentally kicked herself. That was caps and she needed to save every last one of them if she ever planned on finding her own place. Maybe she could go without dinner or eat a later, smaller, and cheaper lunch.

“Well,” she wracked her brain, trying to craft a good enough excuse, “I, uh, actually had some plans-”

“Oh?” Vadim leaned in, smiling bright and cheerful, and ever so nosy.

She bobbed her head. “Yep, uh, was gonna catch Ellie this morning.” She thumbed behind her as she slowly backed away. “Don’t wanna keep her waiting.”

Vadim chuckled. “Next time then,” he said, waving her off, “you need protein. Nothing but a twig.”

Echo saluted him as she spun on her heels. “I’ll keep that in mind~” she sang as she pushed open the exit door. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed deeply. Her fingers tugged out her hair tie as she quickly redid her ponytail. Probably still a mess, but, a hairbrush would have to wait.

After one last round of adjustments, she steeled herself for the worst part of being within Diamond City’s great green walls.

People.

Lots of fuckin’ people.

Another deep breath and she stepped out into the warming sun. Echo pushed her sunglasses closer to her face and tugged at her sleeves as she made her way down the streets. People loitered and chatted, small talk drowned by merchants as they called out, enticing folks to stop by and purchase their wares. The guards patrolled, making sly, under their helmet comments, hidden by their anonymity. Pretty sure a few of them were trying to hit on her while another grumbled about boredom.

Echo dodged and weaved around people, taking extra care to not run into anymore. She turned a corner and frowned at the lack of bright neon sign that should’ve been down this street. She thumped the palm of her hand against her forehead as she walked down the barren street. “Damn it,” she huffed. She’d been here for almost a week now and here she was once again turning herself around.

Echo stopped to place her forehead against the cool metal wall and closed her eyes.

“Got lost I take it?” a familiar voice asked followed by an all too familiar boof.

She snorted as she pushed off against the wall and leaned her shoulder against it. “Noooo, psh,” she waved a dismissive hand as she crossed her arms over her chest, “just sightseeing.”

Nick cracked a smile. “Must be an interesting wall then.” Dogmeat’s tail wagged as he boofed in agreement. “He came and got me.” Nick explained as Dogmeat nudged his face against Echo’s leg.

“Daw,” she dropped to her knees and scratched his face, “And here I thought you ditched me.”

Dogmeat yawned.

“He was leading me to the Dugout when I saw you dipping in here.” Nick pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his coat, “You alright?”

Echo’s mouth twitched as she pushed off the ground and stretched her back. “Yep!” Dogmeat pawed her hand as Nick gave her his ever famous, ‘Not-buying-it’ look. She scratched the top of Dogmeat’s nose as she adjusted her sunglasses. “Got caught by Vadim,” she shrugged as he lit his cigarette.

He hummed, clicking his lighter closed. “Figured as much,” he said as smoke billowed out of his mouth and holes in his cheeks, “Think you’re up to facing the market?” He asked, tapping the ashes off the filter. Echo chewed her lip in thought. “Could take a few back alleys instead.” He added as Dogmeat’s tail thumped against the pavement.

“Only if you lead.” Echo countered. Dogmeat stood up, trotted off, stopped, and turned as if expecting the other two to follow. He boofed.

Nick chuckled. “I believe he’s taking up the mantle.”

Echo cracked a smile. “Alright Bud, we’re coming.” She adjusted her bag’s straps and followed Dogmeat, keeping in step with Nick. “So.” She clapped her hands, “any new cases, leads, or so on?” She asked, dodging a mailbox.

“So far, no.” Nick said, “There are a few case files still left untouched while I was gone though.”

Echo frowned, tapping her knuckle against her lips as she tried to remember what all she looked at. “How many did you have?”

“Several,” he said, gesturing with his cigarette, “we’ve knocked out a few thankfully, but there’s always another case to solve.”

She snorted. “Gee, it's like your job is never done huh?”

“As long as people still come to me for help, not really no.”

She stole a glance at him as his focus was ahead of them, watching Dogmeat. Smoke curled out of his open cheek, damage, no, a scar he received some time ago, before they ever met. From the sound of others, it had been recent, but when-. She chewed her lip in thought, as she looked ahead, catching sight of a familiar neon sign.

Valentine Detective Agency.

She sighed. Crap. She forgot to look at the street signs again, or pay attention to the turns they took... damn it. Nick eyed her, but said nothing. Yep. He knew. Great. Well, at least Dogmeat seemed to know where the hell to go in this city.

Dogmeat sat at the entrance and waited for the other two to walk by and give him scratches and pats on the head.

“Good job, Bud.” Echo said, giving Dogmeat a good scratch behind the ears. She opened the door and caught Nick giving Dogmeat a well deserved scratch under the chin. She smiled and shook her head as she heard Dogmeat’s hind leg thump against the pavement. They were gonna be a minute.

Echo felt a wave slam into her as she entered the threshold. She swallowed as indistinct voices sobbed, wavered, and growled in the nearly empty room. She rolled her shoulders, shrugging the voices off.

She smiled cheerfully at Ellie. “Morning.”

Ellie typed away at her typewriter, her fingers pressing the keys in rapid succession. She glanced up and grinned. “There she is,” she said, as her eyes went back to her paper, “Nick went to check on you, Coco.”

“Yeah, he’s right behind me.” She thumbed at the door as she removed her bag and leaned it against the desk by the wall. It felt...wrong to claim it as her own. She could see and hear the ghosts of those who once kept cigarettes in the top most drawer, hid whiskey behind a stack of papers in the bottom drawer, collected knicknacks to decorate the now bare top…

Echo’s fingers brushed the cool metal surface as a symphony of voices ran through her mind. Just like yesterday...and the days before…

“I take it you got lost again?” Ellie mused as her typewriter dinged.

Echo snorted. “What?” She laid a dramatic hand on her chest, “me? Lost? Psh, as if.”

Dogmeat trotted over to Ellie as Nick stepped inside. “Really? It looked like you were asking a wall for directions.”

Ellie giggled. “A wall huh?” Dogmeat tapped her lap with his paws as if to say ‘hey, I’m here.’ “Well, good morning.” She cooed as she leaned over. Dogmeat licked her nose. She laughed and rubbed Dogmeat’s face.

Echo scratched behind her ear. “Walls can talk you know.” She said, omitting how literal she meant.

Nick smirked. “Not sure how reliable of a source you had then.” Ellie covered her mouth as laughter took over.

Echo shook her head as she struggled to contain herself. “I made it here though, eventually.”

“Sure, sure,” Nick adjusted his fedora, “Ellie,” he said, getting back to business, “what’s on the docket for today?”

Ellie patted Dogmeat’s head, opened a drawer, and pulled out a couple manila folders. One was slightly bulkier than the other. “Bubbles disappeared,” she sighed, “again. And still no word on Earl Sterling…”

Echo quirked a brow, hearing the somber tone in Ellie’s voice.

“Vadim was the one to bring up his disappearance.” Nick said, while picking up the slightly bulkier case file, “Was one of the bartenders. Went missing little before I got caught by Skinny Malone…” He flipped through the file and scanned it while humming a bit.

Echo licked her lips before she popped them. “I, uh, don’t mind checking in but-”

“Need back up?” Nick asked, as a smirk played on his lips.

“Mmmm, well that and,” she rubbed the back of her neck, “I sorta used you as an excuse this morning, Ellie.”

Ellie paused her typing and eyed Echo suspiciously. “What kind of excuse?” she asked, pursing her lips.

Echo sighed as Vadim’s cheerful, glowing smile greeted her while she remembered earlier that morning. “He tried to rope me into a massive breakfast, so, I mentioned I had plans with you for lunch…”

Ellie grinned. “Oh?” She propped her chin as she leaned on the desk, “Well this is news to me. If you wanted to ask me out-”

Echo stiffened as her face flushed. “I-uh-what?”

Ellie giggled and waved her off. “Relax, Coco, I’m only teasing.”

Echo bowed her head as she deflated. “Oh gods,” she mumbled, as the sudden panic left her.

“Think ya broke her, Elle.” Nick said, shaking his head, smiling lightly.

Echo raised her head and rolled her shoulders. “Nope. No. I’m good. Caught me off guard is all.” Dogmeat sat at her feet and tilted his head. “Bud, I’m okay.” She said, leaning over to scratch the top of his head. His tail thumped as his tongue slid out of his mouth, ready to lick her first chance he could. She caught Nick and Ellie exchanging glances, but said nothing as she focused on Dogmeat, rubbing his face and ears.

Nick closed the case file and placed it on the desk. “I have a feeling I know where our little friend ran off to.” he said to Ellie, as he patted the file, “I’ll be back in a bit. In the meantime, Ellie, why don’t you grab some Power Noodles for lunch on me.”

Echo blinked as she looked up at Nick. “Wh-the noodle stand? But-”

Ellie popped out of her chair, beaming at him. “If you’re sure Nick.”

“Course,” he tipped his hat, “I’ll be back in an hour, give or take.” he smiled, “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks…” Echo whispered as he left the agency.

Ellie placed her hands on her hips and smirked at Echo. “You ready to brave the market?” She teased while Dogmeat barked happily.”

Echo’s fingers tapped the top of the desk as she chewed her lower lip. Ellie’s shoulders relaxed as she took a couple steps closer. “You okay?” she asked softly. Dogmeat sat at Ellie’s feet, blocking her way. Ellie paused as her gaze shifted from Dogmeat to Echo. “Oh.” She patted his head, “good boy.” She straightened her posture and smiled, gently at Echo. “I’ll grab lunch for the both of us. How’s that sound?”

Echo felt her shoulders relaxing as a weight tumbled off of them. She nodded slowly. “Sounds good. Thank you.”

Ellie smiled back. “Of course.” She strolled across the room to the safe in the corner. “It won’t take too long. Takahashi’s quick, even during the lunch rush.” She stood up and kicked the door closed. She winked at Echo. “I’ll be back~"

Dogmeat’s tail wagged as he trotted after her.

Ellie laughed. “Oh all right,” she said, ruffling Dogmeat’s fur, “we’ll pick you up something too.” Dogmeat barked happily as the duo walked out the door.

And with that, Echo was alone.

She sighed loudly as she yanked her sunglasses off and tossed them onto the desk. She slumped in her chair and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. After a long very satisfying groan and a round of deep breaths, she let her hands fall to her sides.

Echo chewed her lip. Ellie should be back ‘soon’ with lunch… and with Nick busy… she was alone, with nothing to stop the echoes of whispers that crawled along her skin and set her hair on edge. The agency had seen a lot of foot traffic, and sob stories that lingered in the air long after they had been spoken by a distraught parent, or a worried friend. She needed to do something to distract her for a little while, something to distract her thoughts and the encroaching history that creaked in the floorboards and whispered in muted tones at the edge of her hearing. Her eyes settled for a filing cabinet towards the back, shoved in a corner and forgotten amongst the others. She licked her lips as she stood up and made her way towards the back wall.

How good of a 'detective’ would she be if she didn’t 'snoop’?

Her hands came back dusty after gently brushing the top of the cabinet. Maybe it held old case files or something? She wasn’t sure, but something about this filing cabinet tugged at her. Without a second thought, she squeezed the trigger, pulled, and with a grunt and a slight sting of metal scraping against metal attacking her ears, the cabinet gave. Inside the cabinet were photos, photos of faces she had never met, but lingered in the air like smoke off a cigarette. Names and voices coiled around her and tugged at her limbs, calling to her.

Within the pile of old Polaroid’s were broken frames held together by wonder glue and prayers, a tarnished locket, and a pre-war leather wallet. She held her breath as the voices grew louder, a crescendo on a music sheet building with the conductor’s hand. Her fingers brushed against the cold, dusty locket.

She laughed, lifting her hair as strong calloused hands clasped the chain around her neck. The locket, adorn with engraved vines and leaves, bumped against her chest. “Oh, Nick, you charmer~”

Echo stumbled back, holding her hand against her chest, grasping for invisible weight. She swallowed as she inched her way back to the cabinet. The locket stared up at her, beckoning and pleading to be heard. Echo licked her lips as she planted her hands firmly on the drawer and forced it shut.

That was enough snooping for one day.

Her fingers continued to grab at her collar, desperately searching for the pendant she never wore. Echo closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, shrugging off the ghosts trying to tether themselves to her. She swallowed as her eyes continued to linger on the filing cabinet.

Who...was that?

Echo forced her hands behind her head to the elastic band, removed it, letting her dark hair fall as her fingers combed through the knots. She blew a raspberry as she redid her ponytail. “Guess I’m not the only one with secrets.” she mumbled as she snagged her sunglasses off the desk and hooked them to the collar of her shirt. “I know I know,” she said aloud, waving off the imagery person she started a one sided conversation with, “of course he has secrets. I barely know him!” She dragged her hands down her face, groaning.

She needed a distraction, pronto.

Echo clapped her hands together. Right! She could look at the casefiles while she waited. Something productive! No sooner did she make up her mind and turn her chair did she notice a rolled up newspaper tucked away, finding refuge between a pair of cabinets. Her mouth twitched. No . She had a perfectly sound and very interesting case to look into.

Her eyes glanced at the newspaper again. She groaned. The damn thing would plague her until the next time she had a chance. If there even was one. She grunted as she dragged her feet over to the newspaper.

As she sat on her haunches, it quickly became clear by the yellowing pages and cobwebs clinging to it, that this newspaper was one, not made by Piper and two, had been down here a looooong time.

The Boston Bugle.

A pre-war newspaper that died with its crew when the bombs fell. She frowned slightly as she gently picked up the old newspaper. Her vision danced, white spots flickering as she stood. She leaned against the filing cabinets for support as people screamed around her. The room was hot and it took every ounce of self control to not shed her jackets. She squeezed her eyes shut, stealing an extra long breath as she inhaled deeply. She lost track of how long she stood there, eyes shut and doing her round of breaths. Her balance felt off. Maybe it was the echo...or maybe she just stood too fast.

Echo exhaled again. Slowly.

The rumbling and heat against her skin faded away as she rolled her shoulders and opened her eyes.

Another one. Another object fueled by fear of hundreds of people running from the end of their world… Must’ve been near where the bombs dropped or something.

With a sigh, she gently unfolded the newspaper and frowned at the big bolded letters on the front page.

Case Closed on Crime Boss Eddie Winter.

Why did that name sound familiar? She clicked her tongue and scanned the article.

And although nothing was proved, everyone on Widmark's task force suspected Winter in the August homicide death of their lead detective's fiancé, a miss Jennifer Lands.

Her eyes widened as she felt a lump in her throat. Jenny was her name. She swallowed and refolded the newspaper. Her gaze flickered back to the filing cabinet where the locket stayed, hidden from view, while still hanging invisibly around her neck. Her chest ached as she stashed the newspaper back where she found it.

Now that she thought about it...Nick had mentioned a few things about the Pre-war days…

She plopped down at Ellie’s desk as her mind raced with questions she was too frazzled to acknowledge. She stared at the typewriter, noticing the worn keys, and the paper left drooping, unfinished until Ellie came back from Power Noodles. Her eyes wandered to the casefiles left behind, one much thicker than the other.

Echo pushed everything away, ignoring the sound of clicking keystrokes and tiny meows as she made an empty space on the desk in front of her. She placed her arms on the desk and buried her face in her arms.

Maybe… she could tune out the world for a little while.

She lost track of time as the sound of the front door to the agency opened and closed. Heavy footsteps grew soft the closer they came to the desk. Echo didn’t move as she waited. Her eyes open, staring at the desk, hiding in the darkness of her arms. She bit her lip, waiting for the inevitable-

Mow?

She frowned as something furry and soft rubbed against her.

Echo looked up right as a gray cat with white markings headbutted her face. She sputtered as a familiar voice chuckled.

“Sorry, he jumped out of my arms.” Nick said, gently scratching the cat’s back. “You alright?”

The cat headbutted her again, rubbing his face against her cheek. “I-” Echo leaned back as the cat continued to shove his weight against her. He flopped over on the desk, on top of the case files and on her arm. He purred loudly.

“I think you’ve made a friend.” Nick smiled. “He was hiding behind the shed the farmers use to stash their tools.”

“Mow,” the cat said, cleaning his paw.

She stared at the cat as a smile tugged at her lips. “Oh,” her free hand hovered near his face. After taking a moment to sniff her, he licked her hand a couple times and rubbed his face against her. She laughed. “Dogmeat’s gonna be sooo jealous of you Bubbles.” She frowned as she looked up at Nick. “That...is his name right?”

He nodded. “Yep.” He sighed, “his owner doesn’t like him getting out and overly frets whenever he does.” He rolled his eyes, “I have yet to see a cap from that man.” He grumbled.

Echo scratched Bubbles’ chin. “You just wanted the taste of fresh air huh?” Bubbles purred louder. “Just find a nice warm spot to sun yaself.” Bubbles rubbed his face against her hand. Her eyes widened as she noticed her sunglasses still hanging off of the collar of her shirt. Panic bubbled inside as she quickly yanked her hand free and shoved her sunglasses back on her face.

Bubbles scurried off somewhere in the agency. Nick stared at her, worry clear as day on his face. He raised his hand. “Echo-” She flinched away. He pulled back. “...right. Forgot you don’t like handshakes...”

She bit down hard on her lip, mentally kicking herself as she tried to focus on breathing. Water blurred her vision. Her face felt wet.

“Oh, oh dear,” his voice was quiet, “hey, it’s okay. I’ll-”

“ I’m sorry. ” She sniffed as she dried her face with her sleeves, “I’m…” she wiped her face, “it's a lot…” she scrubbed her face with her sleeves and groaned, “I just…” What could she even say? That she didn’t like people staring at her eyes for fear of them being scared away by them? That she didn’t want to hurt Nick for her reactions? That- She swallowed. “It’s not you. I know it’s cliche as hell to say that, but it's goddamn true. It’s not you at all .” She held her sunglasses close as she looked up at Nick. “I-I don’t do well with crowds or people for that matter… not a lot of them anyways.”

Nick rubbed his wrist as he stared at the metal joints. “Diamond City isn’t for the faint of heart…” he flexed his fingers, “I noticed you seemed on edge, even deep in the vault.” His eyes glanced to match her eyesight. “Look, I know Ellie kind of-”

“I still want to help…” Echo said, quietly, cutting him off, “you and Ellie are...wonderful people and it-it feels nice being around you two.” She sniffed, and gave her face one last wipe down with her sleeve, “I think,” she sighed, “I haven’t been to such a massive settlement before. It’ll still take a bit more time for me to adjust, but I can make it work. I just haven’t,” she rolled her wrist as she grasped at the word on the tip of her tongue, “decompressed?” She frowned. It...didn’t sound right, but Nick didn’t correct her. He just watched and listened. “It’s...overwhelming.”

She chewed her lip. She should say more, but this was dangerous territory. It was always dangerous territory, being on the cusp of what she should say without saying too much. She couldn’t, no, shouldn’t say anything about the newspaper or the locket. Especially not the locket. Where would she even begin with unpacking that filing cabinet? ‘Oh, I can see flashes of memories that don’t belong to me sometimes.’ NO. She shouldn’t have snooped, just should’ve looked at the case files like she planned, but-

“Yeah, it can be,” Nick said, smiling a little, “if you ever need a quiet space, we’ve got a little area on the side. Could set up something for ya.”

“Oh...that’d be nice. Um, thank you.” Her shoulders drooped as she watched Nick rub his wrist. Here he was making her feel better and not thinking about himself.

Echo stood up and inhaled deeply. She held out her hand. Nick frowned, puzzled as his golden eyes flickered from her hand to her face.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Positive.” When he didn’t immediately reach for her hand she licked her lips, “I...I want to do better, but in order to do that I have to push myself. I don’t want you hurting because of something I did. Like...I get this gut reactions whenever someone gets too close or sees my eyes… They’ve scared folks before and it ended poorly...” She cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, Nick.” She forced a smile on her face, “I want to continue assisting you if you’ll have me.”

Nick blinked. “Well,” he chuckled a bit, “truth be told I was hoping you’d stick around.” His hand hovered near hers. “Partner.”

Echo grinned as she clasped his hand. Voices chatted and wavered as she focused the bite of cold from his metal hand.

“Partner.”