#im gonna go ahead and tag her since i DID do a small drawing of her

[numerowah]

so anyway i think waluigi is a tryhard at sports and races because he thinks "hey, maybe if i do super well, it'll make people want to invite me to other things :^D!!!" but he just ends up making himself seem unpleasant to be around in the long run. L+rip bozo you'll get it one day pal 😔

[freddiesaysalright]

Part of Your World - Chapter 4

Ben!Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Prince Ben is trying to escape an arranged marriage. A young mermaid wants to escape the sea. Their paths cross and they may just be what the other is looking for.

Word Count: 3.5k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @radiob-l-a-hblah​, @xviiarez​, @butlegendsneverdie​, @sunflower-ben​, @godblessthisgardenpigeon​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Some pirate-y adventures in this update!

Warning(s): Mild descriptions of violence

Moodboard

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Chapter 4 here we go!!!

Henrietta was unlike anything you would have expected. The sun was down, but the people were out about. Milling through the town with laughter and alcohol on their breath. Ben lowered his mouth to your ear.

“Stay close to me,” he whispered, and you felt his warm hand on the small of your back.

You nodded in reply. You stepped forward, following Ari and Kay to the destination that Behati had given you. She didn’t tell you who you were going to see, only that they might be able to help you remember where Sycoria was. Of course, Ben still had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that this place made him nervous. But he trusted Behati.

You nearly walked into a man stumbling across the road, but Ben yanked you back toward him. You would have shouted in surprise if you had your voice. Your heart rate quickened as you thanked him.

“Be careful,” he said gently. “Here, take my hand.”

You smiled and did so gladly. You continued to follow Ari and Kay from the harbor into the main part of town. Only, you were walking slowly to try and take in everything around you. Human homes, human shops, human clothes, and human voices were all around you. All you wanted to do was explore. But Ben had a firm grip on your hand and made you press on with the girls. 

Ari and Kay turned into an alley off the main road. The darkness between the buildings unnerved you, but a soft yellow square on the pathway ahead indicated a door. A back door to wherever it was you were going. Ari and Kay stopped in front of it, and the former rapped three times on the wood. The door did not fit properly into the entryway, which you might have found amusing if you weren’t growing more anxious by the second.

“Who goes there?” asked a raspy voice on the other side.

“Friends of Captain Behati,” Ari answered. “We come seeking wisdom.”

“Any friends of Behati’s are always welcome,” the voice replied. 

The door squeaked open. Behind it stood an older woman, her face worn and her hair graying at the roots. She had beads all through the locks, making the fade from silver to black even more colorful. Large hoop earrings dangled at the sides of her face, and she wore three necklaces of various lengths around her neck. She had one or two rings on each finger.

“Friends of Behati’s eh?” she said. “Welcome.”

Her voice was not the raspy one you’d heard at first. You looked to the left and saw a muscular man standing in the corner. You guessed he served as a guard.

“Ah, Ari,” the woman said warmly. “It’s wonderful to see you again. And I see you have found the love I spoke of last time we met.”

She looked at Kay, who blushed deeply. Ari grinned.

“I have, Calla, thank you,” she said. “I’m afraid Kay and I aren’t staying. It’s Y/N who needs a reading.”

“What sort of reading?” Calla asked.

You shrugged. Behati said you would know.

She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I will. Come, have a seat.”

“Ben, meet me and Kay at the tavern when you’re done,” Ari said. “It’s back down the alley the way we came and across the square.”

“Got it,” Ben said.

Ari and Kay left. Calla had you seated at a table that was covered with tapestries. On top of it, in the very center, sat a crystal ball. You were perplexed. 

“I hate to be rude, but who are you?” Ben asked.

“This is Calla, the great Seer,” said the muscley man in the corner. “Be respectful.”

“Relax, Ronan, he’s being nice,” Calla said, and then she turned to Ben. “But yes, young price, I’m a Seer.”

He blinked. “How’d you know I’m the prince?”

She looked at him with an amused smile. “How do you think I knew?”

“Seer, right,” he said. “But I thought you could just see the future.”

“Seers can tell you all sorts of things,” she replied. “Things that were, things that are, and things that are coming to you. It’s all in your lines.”

“Lines?” he questioned. 

“Every person has lines - or threads - which connect them to the people and the places they have known and will know in the future,” she explained. “We Seers can examine these lines, and bring clarity to those that need guidance.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” he said.

She chuckled. “Certainly.”

She took a seat across from you. “Now. I wonder why Behati has sent you to me.”

You shrugged again. 

“Place your hand on the ball, child,” Calla instructed, and you did so. “Now close your eyes, and focus inward.”

You obeyed. You thought about what Behati probably wanted - Sycoria’s whereabouts. Perhaps Calla could unravel the pathway back to her lair simply through your body having been there. It was a mystery to you, but that sort of magic was not unheard of, even in the ocean.

“I see a strong bond between you and the prince,” Calla said. “It must be new.”

You nodded. Somehow, you felt her smile. 

“It is a bond based on life, and freedom, and giving,” she said. “A bond to be treasured. Although, it is blurring the rest of your lines. Ben, step out please.”

“Hold on, what about -” you heard him begin, but he was cut off by Ronan.

“She said step out,” he said. 

“I’m not leaving without Y/N,” Ben insisted.

“Stand outside the door if it makes you more comfortable,” Calla told him. “But I need more focus on Y/N.”

He huffed and you heard Ronan escort him to the door. It opened with the same rusty squeak, and snapped sharply closed.

“Now, Behati is interested only in hunting Sycoria, so you must have some connection to the sea witch, little mermaid,” Calla said.

You almost opened your eyes in shock, but refrained. She really was gifted. Your hand grew warm against the crystal as you focused more on Sycoria and the last time you saw her. You thought about the whirlpool of water that dragged you away and to the surface.

“I see!” Calla gasped. “You may open your eyes now, but keep your hand on the ball.”

You did so. Calla had one hand on the ball, and the other was holding a pen. On a piece of parchment, she was drawing. At first, it only appeared to be random lines and squiggles. It made little sense to you. But then as things took shape, you realized it was a map. She was going to take Behati right to Sycoria, thanks to your body’s memory of it. It was odd how your connection to Sycoria and to Behati was guiding the way with you hardly even knowing it.

She finished the map, laid down the pen, and opened her eyes to see the work.

“This should bring you right on top of Sycoria’s lair,” she said. “But be warned, Sycoria may not be home when you arrive. She is plotting something - regarding you and the prince - but I can’t make out what.”

Is there a way to see it through me? You wondered as you tucked the map into your inside vest pocket.

“Perhaps, but we would have to start the reading again with a new focus,” she said. “One toward the future.”

Let’s do it, you signed. I don’t want Behati to miss her chance because of me.

“Alright, then,” she said. “Let’s start again. Close your eyes and -”

You were interrupted when Ben burst through the door.

“We’ve got to go now!” he insisted. 

You gasped and looked up at him questioningly, but he didn’t give you time to ask what was going on. He just took your hand, tugged you to your feet, and raced out the door, ignoring the cry of protest from Calla. 

You heard screams coming from the town. Gunfire as well. It made you come to an abrupt halt. Ben turned to face you and took in your frightened expression.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said assuredly. “I’m here with you. We just need to find Ari and Kay and get back to the ship.”

You nodded. When he drew his sword with his free hand, you gulped. You emerged with him into the main town square and saw absolute chaos.

Fires burned on the street and in buildings. Glass crashed around you as windows broke. People were screaming, running, and ducking into corners to hide. A clear enemy had appeared - pirates. Not the friendly kind. They chased women, struck down the men, and frightened the children. Now you understood what Behati meant about humans disappointing you. This was not at all what you thought it was like.

One came hollering toward you and Ben, sword raised over his head. Ben blocked him swiftly and kicked him in the stomach. The pirate fell to the ground. He tried to sweep Ben’s legs, but the latter was prepared and jumped back. The pirate scrambled to his feet.

“Now, pretty boy, you don’t want to start something you can’t finish,” the pirate sneered. “Leave that gorgeous creature behind you with me, and we won’t have any trouble.”

You gasped and shrunk back. 

“You want her, you’ll have to go through me,” Ben returned.

He twirled his sword in his hand before steadying it in front of him. But your stomach turned since he was no longer holding on to your hand. The pirate laughed wickedly and engaged Ben again.

They went back and forth, slashing and parrying. You had never seen such a fight. Ben was amazing to watch - graceful, careful, trained. His eyes flicked between the pirate’s feet and his arm, and from there the prince guessed what each stroke might be. The pirate was sloppier, his stance wasn’t as strong, but you guessed that was because he was drunk. You saw the flask on his hip and he reeked of rum.

Finally, Ben dodged a jab from the pirate and punched him in the jaw. He fell to the ground and lay still. Then Ben took your hand again.

“Come on!” he urged.

It was difficult to run through all the people who were also trying to escape. You and Ben both ended up getting shoved around, but still managed to hold on to each other. Walking was hard enough, but running, while being jostled by a crowd, was too much for your newfound legs to handle. You tripped on someone’s foot, and tumbled to the ground. Your hand left Ben’s and you heard him give a surprised shout.

You hit the ground hard. So hard you saw stars. As you tried pushing yourself onto your knees, there was a tug on your hair. Someone had you by your braids, and yanked you to your feet. Once again, you could smell rum and sweat.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing,” someone growled.

Your vision cleared and you saw a fearsome looking pirate. He was the sort that merpeople always warned about. Thick dark beard, gold teeth, and an eye patch. Greed glinted behind his one good eye.

You tried to jerk away from him, but his grip was too tight. Your scalp already ached. He laughed in your face when you winced. Then he grabbed you around the waist and slung you over his shoulder. You wanted to scream, but with no voice, it was impossible. You banged your fists on his wide back as hard as you could. The man only laughed again and began to walk away with you.

Ben was fighting his way back through the crowd, but it was like swimming against a strong current. He finally burst through, but saw that you were gone. He looked wildly around. Then he spotted you. Being carried away by the tallest man he had ever seen. You were struggling on his shoulder.

“Y/N!”

Your head snapped up and you saw Ben running back toward you. Your heart swelled with relief. Ben skirted around a family hurrying away from their ransacked home and then darted past the man carrying you. The prince pointed his sword directly at the kidnapper’s chest.

“Put. Her. Down,” Ben demanded. “Now.”

“Back off, boy, the girl’s mine,” the man returned. 

He slapped Ben’s sword from his hand. Ben let out a soft gasp at the man’s speed, but it was cut short when the man grabbed the prince around the throat. You beat on the man’s back harder than before, desperate to make him let Ben go. You heard him choking, fighting for breath, though you couldn’t see his face.

Ben’s vision was going blurry as he wheezed in the pirate’s grasp. The man spoke, but he couldn’t hear the words. All Ben knew was that he needed air in the next five seconds or…

Suddenly, the choking stopped. His throat was released, and he hit the ground. He sucked in a long, desperate breath, grateful beyond belief to have air. His vision returned and he looked up to see Ari and Kay in front of him. The man looked less confident now facing them.

“Release the girl, Draco,” Kay demanded.

Draco smirked, slipping back into his cocky demeanor from before.

“Well, if it isn’t Behati’s little girls,” he mocked. “Come for a tea party and dress up?”

“You know the rules,” Ari said firmly. “You can’t have the girl if she’s one of ours.”

“Damn the rules,” he returned. “We’re pirates, we do as we please.”

Ben got to his feet, retrieving his sword. He stood between Kay and Ari, brandishing his weapon with theirs.

“Oh, are you allowing boys now?” Draco continued. “Or was he just so weak you decided he’s practically a woman?”

He reached for Ben again, but this time, the prince was ready. He ducked under Draco’s arm, stepped diagonally, and slashed the pirate on the side. Draco cried out and dropped you. You hit the dirt, which knocked the wind out of you, but you preferred that to being a prisoner. You caught your breath and watched the fight that broke out. 

Draco was strong and fast, but he was still outmatched by Ben, Ari, and Kay. They worked so well together it almost seemed rehearsed. The flow between the three of them was as smooth as a dance. With just six strokes, Draco was down, and Ben was at your side.

“Are you alright?” he asked, offering his hand.

You nodded and took it. Your head still throbbed from the hair pulling and all the times you’d fallen, but you were okay. He helped you up and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“How are we getting out of here?” he asked, looking at Ari and Kay.

“We fight our way out,” Kay said fiercely, flashing her dagger. 

“The ship isn’t far now,” Ari said. “There’s a shortcut to the harbor around the corner.”

“There’s so many pirates,” Ben said. “Who are they?”

“Captain Samwell Yardley,” Kay said. “He’s the cruelest pirate on the sea.”

“Why doesn’t Behati do something?” Ben wondered.

“There’s not much she can do,” Ari said. “Yardley has three ships, and a skilled crew on each. She doesn’t feel like she can challenge him.”

“Does he not take slaves?” Ben pressed. “They were trying to take Y/N.”

“They don’t take slaves or prisoners,” Ari said darkly. “They were likely taking her to the nearest bed to have their way with her and then cut her throat.”

You gulped. Ben scowled. 

“That’s horrible,” he said. “I can’t believe the Royal Navy hasn’t caught him.”

“They’ve certainly tried,” Kay said. “But he’s fast and smart.”

You tapped Ben on the shoulder and he looked at you.

This is really horrible, you signed. But if we’re going to survive this raid, we need to get going. And fast!

“I agree,” he said. He looked at the other two. “She said we need to go.”

“And we do,” Ari said. “Come on, follow me. And keep your weapons up. Swing at any pirate you see. Y/N, do NOT let go of Ben.”

You nodded. All of you took off, jogging close to the buildings so you wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Ari slipped into the next alley, and you followed. Thankfully, there were no pirates in there, only Henrietta citizens taking shelter. You saw something in Ben’s face shift. It was a combination of pity and anger. It was touching to see he was so sympathetic, but you worried it was getting to him too much.

You came out of the alley within sight of the harbor. The four of you dashed ahead, sprinting for the ship. You were more tired than after you’d rescued Ben, but you had to keep pushing. You all skidded to a stop when another pirate emerged from the shadows, blocking the path to the harbor.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Behati’s dolls,” he said. 

“We’re leaving,” Ari said. “Get out of our way, and we won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not scared of a little group of girls,” he returned.

He began to raise his sword, but Kay was faster. She whipped out her pistol and shot the man on his left side. He doubled over and none of you waited to see what happened next. You hurtled forward, making a final break for your shelter. The ship grew as you got closer, and thankfully, you were not met with another challenge.

You reached the dock and your lungs were burning with how hard you were breathing. Your hand was still in Ben’s as the four of you raced up to board the ship again. Behati was already out on deck, pacing while the other members of the crew sat anxiously around her. They all whipped around when they heard you all thundering up the plank. 

“You’re alive!” she cried with relief. “Thank goodness! I had no idea Yardley would be showing up tonight. If I did, I’d never have sent you in there.”

Ben dropped your hand. You sent him a concerned look, but before he could see it, Behati’s arms were around you. 

“Did you find out how to reach Sycoria?” she whispered in your ear.

You nodded. She kissed your cheek and then went to Ben. She reached out for him, but he shrugged her off. His whole demeanor had changed.

“Don’t touch me,” he said irritably. 

Behati’s brow furrowed. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt,” he snapped. “But that doesn’t help the people of Henrietta, does it?”

Ari sheathed her sword. “Ben, there were only four of us. Even if we had the whole crew, we’d still be outnumbered by Yardley’s men.”

“But it shouldn’t be up to you!” he cried, throwing his sword down. It clattered against the deck, making your jump. “I’m the prince! It’s my family’s job to protect the people, and we don’t even know half the reality of what the people go through!”

He took a moment and inhaled deeply. 

“Where was the Royal Navy tonight, huh?” he shouted. “The Guard? Anyone who has a sworn duty to the people? God, we don’t even know about slavers in our own bay! The king’s too busy picking up princesses to notice the atrocities that affect our people!” 

He kicked his sword now and it skidded away.  

“Ben,” Behati said calmly. “It’s been this way for decades. The people don’t expect -”

“They should expect it!” he yelled. “They should expect the people who govern them to protect them! Instead we’re locked away in our palace arranging weddings and hosting balls, without any regard for what’s happening right under our noses! It’s despicable!”

He stalked off. The crew parted to make a path for him as he went below deck to his hammock. You listened to him stomp the whole way there.

“Princes, always so touchy,” Behati said.

He’s not wrong, you signed. He feels responsible for the ignorance of his father.

“Why don’t you try talking to him, Y/N?” she suggested. “Tell me about your reading later. He needs you more.”

You looked through the door where he had disappeared. 

No, signed. I’ll let him have space for now. 

“Probably wise,” she said. “Well, then. Come with me to my room and tell me what you learned from Calla.”

You followed her to her quarters to relay everything the psychic told you. You left out the part about Sycoria having some plan regarding you and Ben. It would only make things confusing. When you showed her the map, her eyes flashed with glee.

“This changes everything,” she said. “I’ll tell the girls to set a course right now. Thank you, Y/N.”

She put a hand on your shoulder and left to give the crew the instructions. You remained behind and tried to think of anything you could say to Ben. Humans had definitely disappointed you tonight, but Ben was disappointed in himself. And you had no idea how to comfort him.

[flamehairedwritings]

Cups

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1,661

Rating: M, 16+ ONLY

A/N: Hello! Welcome to Christmas Drabbles 2018! For the next seven days I’ll be posting a drabble every dang day with a festive theme. I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

Summary: Based on the prompt ‘Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party’, by @alloftheprompts

MASTERLIST

CHRISTMAS DRABBLES 2018 MASTERLIST

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Oh, here we go.

“Excuse me?”

Arching an eyebrow, you place your hands on your hips as you turn to the source of the gruff voice.

Chief Jim Hopper looks at you incredulously, his hands also on his hips.

“What. The hell. Are you doing?” he repeats in that slow way that immediately makes you feel like a complete idiot.

Clenching your jaw, you raise your eyebrows. “What does it look like, Chief Hopper?”

“It looks like you’re hangin’ tinsel on the holding cells.”

“Oh, so your eyes do work.”

You turn back to your task, a hint of a smug smirk on your lips as you hear him exhale a long breath. You were always able to push your luck because what could he do? Fire you? Yeah, well, maybe, but on what grounds? Stating the truth?

Just try me, Hopper.

You were always just that little step ahead, and he hated it.

“You can’t hang tinsel on the holding cells.”

“Do please tell me why.”

You can practically hear his teeth grinding together. “That’s where we keep suspected or confirmed criminals. We can’t have it lookin’... Jolly.”

“Yes, we can.” You finish sticking two ends of tinsel together and step down from the chair.

And you leave your response at that.

Turning away from him, you move back to the box of decorations, rummaging through it for the multi-coloured lights you’d seen and fallen in love with earlier. Finding them, horrendously tangled, you thrust them in Hopper’s direction, not looking at him.

“Do something useful and untangle these.”

You hear that deep, irritating sigh of exasperation as he takes them and sits down heavily in the nearest chair, getting to work as he mutters under his breath.

If only he’d known Flo had also picked you to decorate the Station. He would have stayed right the hell away. Maybe even gone across to another state. Taken a whole damn week off so he didn’t have to see or think about you.

What he wouldn’t give for one day of relief.

“Come on, honey, come and dance.”

Smiling widely at Flo, you shake your head, your bell earrings tinkling with the motion. “No, I’m all right, thank you, Flo. Maybe after I’ve had a few more of these.” You raise your cup a little. “Then I’ll be able to dance like, oh, what did our delightful chief call it last year... A newborn foal with roller-skates on.” 

Flo tuts as she moves closer to your side. “Like he can dance any better. Oh, no, I mean, you are a good dancer, honey,” she swiftly continues when you arch an eyebrow. “Oh, you know what I mean. Oh, if only you two would get along, you have so much in common.”

You snort, raising your cup to your lips. “Yeah, well, he should apologise.”

“Can’t you just let it go and shake hands?”

“I’m not that big a person, Flo.”

It had been three years since you’d started. Three years since The Incident. Since... Since he’d... What had he said again... Urgh, you can’t remember the specifics but it was something incredibly patronising and you hadn’t just let it slide and it had snowballed from there and here you are today.

Staring across the office floor at him.

Your skin prickling in that way it always does when he’s near.

Your heart beating just that little bit faster.

Unable to stop staring at him.

“‘nother beer, Chief?”

Hopper lifts his gaze from his nearly empty bottle to the one Powell holds out to him.

“Yeah, thanks.” Setting the one in his hand down on the table, he accepts the fresh bottle, raising it to his lips for a sip. 

Powell stands at his side, gazing out at the cramped dance floor you had somehow made the space for, desks and chairs shoved aside.

“Hey, didn’t she wear that dress at the Thanksgiving party?”

Calvin Powell looks to his chief, then to you, then back to Hopper. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Dunno, just...” Hopper shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips again as he mumbles, “Make an effort, you know.”

Powell raises his eyebrows. “Says the guy who wears the same shirt to everything.”

“Yeah, but, you know... Women,” Hop finishes weakly, wincing slightly in instant regret.

Powell’s eyebrows rise even higher. “’Women’?”

Apparently relenting to the fact he has to commit to the words that somehow came out of his mouth, Hopper clears his throat and shrugs. “Yeah... Women.”

His officer stares at him. “Uh-huh. Women... Mystifying, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.”

“Annoying when you can’t figure ‘em out, isn’t it?” He watches Hopper stare at you, watching you converse with Flo.

“Mhm.”

“And it’s even more annoying when you wanna go over there, ask ‘em if you can get ‘em a drink and apologise for being a damn idiot all the time.”

“Mhm─” Hopper’s gaze flicks over to him, his eyes narrowing.

Powell shrugs.

Clearing his throat, Hopper opens his mouth, to say what he has no God damn clue, when his eyes find their way back to you and you’re heading into his office.

“What in the hell...” he mutters, irritation swiftly rising within him as he sets his bottle down and strides after you, leaving Powell staring after him.

“How can we have run out of cups already? Hopper was meant─ Well, there we go actually, Hopper was in charge, that’s how we have.” Exhaling a short breath of frustration, you then smile at Flo and pat her shoulder gently as you pass. “I’m gonna go and get some cups.”

Placing your cup down on the nearest desk, you round it and push through the small swing door leading to Hopper’s office. Opening the door, you head inside, not bothering to turn the light on.

Hopper being Hopper, he’d vehemently opposed you using his office as a decoration base but you’d ignored him and stored boxes in there when he hadn’t been looking. Which had actually been easy to do because he never looked. Not that you minded. One bit.

Surveying the array of boxes, you try and remember which ones the cups were in.

Oh, God, where the hell has he put them...

“What are you doing?”

You exhale a low, exasperated sound, opening the nearest box and starting to search through it. “Getting more cups, officer.”

“Did you not put enough out?”

“The drinks table was your jurisdiction, Hopper, it’s the only thing you got excited about. The most excited I’ve ever seen you, actually, I didn’t know it was possible.”

“I get excited about things.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Knowing you’re not gonna be in.”

You snort.

Wait, what.

You hadn’t been able to help it. You’d snorted. And not a dismissive snort. An amused snort.

And neither of you know what to do.

So you both ignore it.

Clearing your throat and mercifully finding the cups, you pull them out, turn and move to the door, pushing the wrapped stack into Hopper’s hands as you pass him.

You’re so close to the door, so close to freedom and pretending that never happened, when Callahan appears in the doorway.

“Oh, shiiit, look who’s under the mistletoe!” he grins, dangling the fake arrangement above your head.

“Oh, God, never, Phil,” you reply, incredibly grateful for the distraction and trying so hard not to smile.

“Nah, c’mon, you two.”

“‘You tw─”

In taking a step back from Callahan, you meet a hard wall behind you. 

Not a wall.

A Hopper.

The Chief clears his throat. “No, Callahan.”

“Come on, just a lil’ peck.”

“Calla─”

“Smooch, smooch.”

“Phil─“

He raises the mistletoe higher. “I won’t let you pass and I reckon I could take you both on. Get in to the Christmas spirit, guys, c’mon.”

“Christ, fine,” you mutter.

You tilt your head back and lift your chin to kiss Hopper on the cheek to just get this over with... but he’s turned his head, too. 

Your lips meet his.

Gently.

Gently? 

God, you thought kissing Hopper would be uncoordinated, he’s a complete mess of a man, frankly, but this is... This is nice, no, wait, anyway, you don’t spend a lot of time thinking about kissing him so─

Your lips are still against his. You haven’t pulled back. And neither has he.

He seems to realise it the same moment you do.

Drawing your head back so quickly you almost strain a muscle, you stare at him as he stares at you.

Even Callahan goes quiet for once.

For a few seconds.

“Okay, who’s next!” he calls out as he turns and zones in on the next victim.

You and Hopper are still looking at each other.

Your cheeks feel warm and his mouth is open, like he’s fighting for something to say.

He finds it. “Right.”

“Right.”

“Okay.”

You want to kiss him again.

Oh, God.

Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away, start walking, pause in the doorway, and then clear your throat again.

“Put the cups on the table, Hopper.”

“Yep.”

Lifting your gaze, you find him still looking at you.

Oh, God.

“Okay, so I’ll─”

“Actually...”

You blink, slightly startled that he’s interrupted your attempt to leave this situation he should no doubt be also finding awkward. 

There’s something in his eyes, though, something that you can’t look away from.

“... I remember tellin’ you you couldn’t put all this shit in here.” He drops the stack of cups into a box beside him as he moves towards you, and you don’t move.

Standing before you, looking down at you, he reaches behind you and pushes the door shut.

Suddenly, pressed against him, your head leaning back against the door, you can name what’s lingering in his gaze.

Lust.

And you know he can see it in your eyes, too.

“What are you going to do about it, Chief?”

“Somethin’ I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

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[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 21

Title & Song:  Stand By My Girl

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 2800+

Summary: Genevieve is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. She’s been intrigued by Alfie since she met him. But where will she draw the line between business and pleasure now that they are working so closely together? Alfie takes revenge into his own hands.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Fighting. Canon typical violence.

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Stand By My Girl by Dan Auerbach.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes and comments feed this artist to write more!

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-20)

He's standing in a side room of the bakery, bottom lip thrust under his mustache, staring at the door to the main warehouse. He's alone before everyone arrives. He's called you, his men have been instructed and now he waits in the quiet hum and ambient noise of the dusty sepia-toned room. He's focused, feet firmly planted, eyes half hidden under a heavy brow. His hand twitched around his pocket watch, anxious for the time to pass so his plans would be complete.

The brother of the smart-mouthed, recently tongueless Italian man you'd murdered at The Garrison had somehow found his way to him. He'd gone into the meeting with the expectation of it being some sort of con but it never came to pass. Therefore, he seized the opportunity to con them instead.

This man wanted you dead for family, the small group of men he ran with wanted you dead because they were paid to. He tells him he was behind the failed hit on you. Alfie nods slowly as the news hits his ears, the devilish smile that came across his face would've made a man with any intelligence flinch and run. But this one, blinded by his own stupidity and revenge wouldn't see Alfie coming until the bullet from the pistol in the drawer was already embedded into his skull. He accepts their proposal, spit in hand, calm distant eyes sending the men away without a suspicion in the world as to his deceit.

So he'd invited you to the warehouse for the evening, sighting he had something he couldn't bring home with him that he wanted to show you, he'd promised it would be a big surprise. He certainly was a man of his word. Even if he had twisted them to suit his needs in this instance. You believe him, and of course, you do. You trust him.

In following through with this plan, he felt a certain line crossed within himself. He was killing more Italians, that would miff Sabini, he was deceiving you by not telling you about the plan, but he needed you to not know so the men tailing you to the bakery would believe the sudden and swift arrest of you from your car was genuine. He had them do it in a location that would allow the men to not be able to reach the warehouse before Alfie would have all the other men killed before they arrived at the same fate. He has a duplicate car pull up slightly ahead of schedule and as the men on the roof steady to aim to take you out as you enter the bakery, Alfie has his men with their own guns in the shadows finish all but one for him.

So here he sits. In the muggy warehouse, staring at the metal double doors waiting, willing his needed outcome to come forth through that door. The man who hired him sits across from him in his office, he turns his face to the other side to the phone on his desk in anticipation, ringed fingers fidgeting in his beard, eyes alert and roaming. It rings, he excuses himself with a nod, putting his feet up on his desk, fingers on his free hand twisting the chain on his glasses as he nods and grunts into the receiver.

You're in custody. You're fine but you're furious. He can hear you screaming in the background, the muffled sounds of a door thudding rhythmically, he's sure your vicious little feet are beating against it in a rage only a scorned woman knows, your hands in cuffs, the pretty dress you'd worn all askew. He informs them in his few, shadow-like words to give you the letter he'd written and make you as comfortable as possible. He hangs up the phone with a nod, hand moving smoothly to his desk drawer as the man looks down the long corridor outside of his office.

Alfie turns to see what he'd needed to carry through on the action he'd just started. Olli comes in, bringing in rum that had been promised earlier with the group's arrival.

"That the call for the kill?" the man asks, looking out towards Ollie as he walks down the long corridor.

"Preemptively, yeah, mate." he responds with a series of nods, pulling the pistol from his drawer and shooting the man in the head, point blank before he even knew what had hit him.

"Well." he sniffs. "'At's 'at, innit it?" he says with a nod, thumbing his nose. "You know what to do wif 'im." he grumbles, pulling on his coat as Olli approaches.

"Where shall I send the barrels, sir?" he asks, taking the gun from his hands.

"I 'ont fuckin' care...Timbuktu?" he says with an annoyed shrug. Grabbing his cane and heading back home to wait for your release.

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

As soon as you're out of the station doors you're reminded of how furious you are at his actions. You see Joseph holding the door open to your car as you stomp your way across the street. You stop before you bend to enter the car.

"Did you know about this plan of his, Joseph?" you ask harshly, shaking the previously balled and thrown piece of paper that holds Alfie's excuses, your body language reading hostile.

"No. Absolutely not Miss!" he shakes his head, his eyes wide and apologetic. You hadn't truly suspected him to be in on it, he'd just been available to take your anger out on. "Mr. Solomons sent me to get you as soon he returned back to your estate."

"Take me to the bastard, Joseph." you groan as you pull your dress angrily into the car with you. You sat and stewed in how mad you were the whole ride home. How could he not tell you about this plan that involved you? How could he embarrass you? To allow you to be arrested and treated in such a way? Had you let him forget who you were and what you could do? What sort of man kills to defend you, but won't impart the knowledge of the plans to do so to you?

He's sitting in a turned out chair to be facing you as you enter the dining room. He can tell by the quick trot of your feet that you've not taken to his plan well. He'd expected this and sucks his teeth, followed by a deep breath.  He'd hoped you'd understand his business strategy and take it in stride as part of being involved in business together. But apparently, you'd decided to take this particularly personally. He rises from his chair, head down and waiting for the abuse that was almost guaranteed to occur.

"Alfie!" he hears you screech before the maid even finishes her greeting to you. No Mr. Solomons used in reference to business...he knew you'd taken it all entirely personally.

"In 'ere." he shouts towards the doorway, facing your wrath head-on. He hadn't expected you to come in with this level of intensity after the long drive home but rage seemed like something you were never typically short on.

"Who the fuck do you think you are Alfie Solomons?!" you shout as you appear in full revved up form to be framed by the doorway. You looked a bit worse for wear than he anticipated, his nose flinched just slightly with the feeling of guilt.

"Well ya went and answered ya own question dinnt ya sweetie?" he says, shaking his head in obvious response. He can hear your huff of breath from your side of the room as your shoulders and hips moved in an almost sultry tandem as you stalked towards him, your hands in fists at your sides and slowly rising.

"I am so far past my limit for your smart fucking mouth right now Alfie I swear to God!" you say shoving him with both hands on his shoulders, he moves back slightly.

"Geneveive, calm down, I only did it for your own good now, you can surely see that, yeah?" his face more than annoyed at you laying your hands on him. You didn't care you wanted to tackle him against the wall and choke him with his own cane.

"I don't need you to fix my problems for me, Alfie! And to not TELL ME?" you shout in his face. Your shorter form rising on your tiptoes to press into his personal space, your shoulders squared, hands itching to grab hold of him and hurt him. "It was a consequence of MY OWN actions and you have NO right to interject like this!" you're shaking with anger, embarrassment, your pride was screaming for being assaulted in such a way. You feel like such a fool to have thought that he actually thought of you as an equal. You didn't need him to fit the role of protector for you because you didn't need or want it from him.  

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off, your hand rising to point at his chest.

"You made me look like a fucking FOOL, Alfie! Leaving me in the dark like this?! I'm not some god damned damsel that needs to be fucking saved! Then I was fucking brutalized being put into that fucking police wagon?!" you screech, your body tensing so hard you jolt with the delivery of your words. He looks you over to see the bruises and scratches and tears in your dress to back up your statement, lump in his throat growing. "You don't try to pull the wool over my eyes when I'm the fuckin' WOLF Alfie! I am not some SHEEP to blinded from the harsh realities of our world!" you scream in anger, your face tensing as you do so, hands shaking.

"It weren't nothin' like that, Gen, yeah? They was gonna try to kill you, either way, weren't they? I see now I was wrong to think you'd see it rationally and not take it so personally." he pauses to roll his eyes and take an exasperated breath. Your eyes go even wider somehow, your nostrils flared, your teeth bared.

You can't help that your hand raises back to slap him across the face. The edges of your vision are glowing red as you look at him. That smug, wide-eyed feined innocence to guilt in his defense of himself. He catches your hand by the wrist and his bottom lip disappears under his mustache, sitting under his flared nostrils that exhaled angrily at you.

"Now don't go actin' like a child on top of this fit you're throwing now, eh?" he says, his head dipping down closer to yours to speak with a hiss of anger. You have the thought to hit him with your other hand and as the impulses from your brain shoot down to your fist he reaches out to grab it before it moves, he shakes his head and glares down at you as you struggle mildly in hopes he'd just let you go. You're relieved and annoyed that he's smart enough not to. "Ya gonna go actin' like a little girl everytime I gotta do business with ya and somethin' don't go your way?" he asks with words dripping of condescendence. You don't see any reason not to push back if he's going to continue his avalanche of disrespect.

You're so angry you just elect to make a noise of frustration and butt his forehead with yours, you knock his hat off with the force. "How dare you speak to me like that." your voice is low and heavy as your brow right now,  your face clearly reading hostile towards him.

"Or fuckin' what, Gen, yeah?" he asks, now more animated than he had been. He just uses his grip on your forearms to move your body and shove you away from him. "If ya go 'n hit me, yer only provin' me right, innit ya?" he asks, brushing his shirt off, leaning to reach for his hat that had hit the floor.

You don't think much in the next few seconds. Your muscle memory kicks in and you've tackled Alfie. Slamming against a side table that rested against the wall, knocking off candlesticks and vases of flowers before you take him down to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell, Genevieve!" he gruffs out as he moves to control your arms that are coming at him fast, your hands clawing at his throat to choke him. He uses his larger form to roll you over, pinning your legs down, you manage to get one arm free in the struggle, That one arm desperately grasping the ground above your head, it's met with the cold metal of a candlestick and you swing it at him like you're delivering a right hook and he moves off of you quickly, making the metal hit your tiled floor, cracking it. His eyes move to the chunk of misplaced floor your small but fierce frame has caused with the metal object. "Ya tryin' to fuckin' kill me?" he shouts, his eyes wide but a scoff still in his voice. You're already working on getting up as the object makes its impact, but he's already standing, knowing you aren't going to stop now unless he stopped you first. He knew of a knife you kept in a rather, intimate space on your body, and he knew he had to get it before you remembered you had it. This really wasn't how he'd wanted to get his hands on you.

"You don't deserve death you lying...patronizing...fucking... disappointment of a man!" you growl and pace your words with your movements, as you stand in a fighting stance. You lunge at him again, he spins and grabs you, holding your back against his chest and the constriction of your movements makes you shout and growl out in anger as he lifts your feet off the ground as you kick. "Get off me you fucking mongrel!" you shout and squirm. His forearm slips around your throat. You immediately kick the edge of the table, forcing his back with a hard thud into the wall behind him. Your hands hold a talon-like grip on his forearm, trying to force him away, causing your adrenaline to surge. Your hips are struggling against his, you feel one of his arms loosen and you aren't sure the cause of this for a moment until you feel his forearm grip even tighter around your neck. You squeak out as you feel his hand raising up your skirt. Your eyes are wide and you elect to use one of your hands, previously holding his arm back from restricting your air too much with, against his hand that was now grasping at your inner thighs. Your feet kick back and try to hit him but you're met with the stone of the wall behind him, you hit his legs and this proves to not be enough to deter him. You rasp out his name in hopes to appeal to his emotions, as your nails scratch up the back of his hand as it clumsily searches the apex of your thighs. If your face hadn't been red from the forearm against your throat it would have been now in a mix of intense vulnerability and another wave of rage. You gasp and realize what he's going after too late. His fingers tug the leather strap that sits high up your thigh and hip. You don't have time to dwell on the thought long of figuring out when he'd seen your thigh strap before. You feel the cold metal of his rings, the scratch of the sharp bits of the filigree surrounding the gemstones as his fingers slide in the crease of your squirming thighs, he tugs out the small switchblade-style knife.

You growl at him again, pushing one of your feet against his inner thigh, bringing your hips up enough to kick back and hit him in the general area of his balls. Which was good enough for you as he lets you go. He's doubled over, face just as red as yours, both gasping for breath. You grab his wrist and yank his hand that holds the knife away from him, taking it from him.

"You ever do business that involves me again without consulting me on it and I might just fucking kill you next time!" you shout, pointing at him with the knife still open. His screwed up expression looks to you as he reaches over to hold himself up on the edge of the table. He rests his weight on his elbows, watching you as the plethora of emotions you were feeling plays across your face.  You disappear in the direction of your wing, hiding your face before the tears that were in your eyes fell. He knows better than to chase you for any reason he may have, so he groans and shuffles his way back to his room.

Pt 22 You Should Be Glad You’ve Got A Man

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