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#I WAS WALKING ON THE ROADWAY LIKE
eloquent-music · 3 months
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After quite a bit of time of being busy and all, he's satisfying himself with a drink first before doing anything about the current injury to his upper leg right now. Now this---this is what he's needed.
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
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The Klamath River’s salmon population has declined due to myriad factors, but the biggest culprit is believed to be a series of dams built along the river from 1918 to 1962, cutting off fish migration routes.
Now, after decades of Indigenous advocacy, four of the structures are being demolished as part of the largest dam removal project in United States history. In November, crews finished removing the first of the four dams as part of a push to restore 644 kilometres (400 miles) of fish habitat.
“Dam removal is the largest single step that we can take to restore the Klamath River ecosystem,” [Barry McCovey, a member of the Yurok Tribe and director of tribal fisheries,] told Al Jazeera. “We’re going to see benefits to the ecosystem and then, in turn, to the fishery for decades and decades to come.” ...
A ‘watershed moment’
Four years later, [after a catastrophic fish die-off in 2002,] in 2006, the licence for the hydroelectric dams expired. That created an opportunity, according to Mark Bransom, CEO of the Klamath River Renewal Corporation (KRRC), a nonprofit founded to oversee the dam removals.
Standards for protecting fisheries had increased since the initial license was issued, and the utility company responsible for the dams faced a choice. It could either upgrade the dams at an economic loss or enter into a settlement agreement that would allow it to operate the dams until they could be demolished.
“A big driver was the economics — knowing that they would have to modify these facilities to bring them up to modern environmental standards,” Bransom explained. “And the economics just didn’t pencil out.”
The utility company chose the settlement. In 2016, the KRRC was created to work with the state governments of California and Oregon to demolish the dams.
Final approval for the deal came in 2022, in what Bransom remembers as a “watershed moment”.
Regulators at the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) voted unanimously to tear down the dams, citing the benefit to the environment as well as to Indigenous tribes...
Tears of joy
Destruction of the first dam — the smallest, known as Copco 2 — began in June, with heavy machinery like excavators tearing down its concrete walls.
[Amy Cordalis, a Yurok Tribe member, fisherwoman and lawyer for the tribe,] was present for the start of the destruction. Bransom had invited her and fellow KRRC board members to visit the bend in the Klamath River where Copco 2 was being removed. She remembers taking his hand as they walked along a gravel ridge towards the water, a vein of blue nestled amid rolling hills.
“And then, there it was,” Cordalis said. “Or there it wasn’t. The dam was gone.”
For the first time in a century, water flowed freely through that area of the river. Cordalis felt like she was seeing her homelands restored.
Tears of joy began to roll down her cheeks. “I just cried so hard because it was so beautiful.”
The experience was also “profound” for Bransom. “It really was literally a jolt of energy that flowed through us,” he said, calling the visit “perhaps one of the most touching, most moving moments in my entire life”.
Demolition on Copco 2 was completed in November, with work starting on the other three dams. The entire project is scheduled to wrap in late 2024.
[A resilient river]
But experts like McCovey say major hurdles remain to restoring the river’s historic salmon population.
Climate change is warming the water. Wildfires and flash floods are contaminating the river with debris. And tiny particles from rubber vehicle tires are washing off roadways and into waterways, where their chemicals can kill fish within hours.
McCovey, however, is optimistic that the dam demolitions will help the river become more resilient.
“Dam removal is one of the best things we can do to help the Klamath basin be ready to handle climate change,” McCovey explained. He added that the river’s uninterrupted flow will also help flush out sediment and improve water quality.
The removal project is not the solution to all the river’s woes, but McCovey believes it’s a start — a step towards rebuilding the reciprocal relationship between the waterway and the Indigenous people who rely on it.
“We do a little bit of work, and then we start to see more salmon, and then maybe we get to eat more salmon, and that starts to help our people heal a little bit,” McCovey said. “And once we start healing, then we’re in a place where we can start to help the ecosystem a little bit more.”"
-via Al Jazeera, December 4, 2023
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codtrashsammy · 5 months
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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vivmaek · 7 months
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POETRY FOR YOUR MOON SIGN
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✰ my masterlist poems written by someone who has the same moon sign as you <3
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☾PISCES☽
Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream
“Take this kiss upon the brow! / And, in parting from you now, / Thus much let me avow – / You are not wrong, who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”
June Jordan, You Came with Shells
“You came with shells. And left them: / shells. / They lay beautiful on the table. / Now they lie on my desk / peculiar / extraordinary under 60 watts.”
Toni Morrison, It Comes Unadorned
“it comes / Unadorned / Like a phrase / Strong enough to cast a spell; / It comes / Unbidden, / Like the turn of sun through hills / Or stars in wheels of song. / The jeweled feet of women dance the earth. / Arousing it to spring. / Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years. / Profiles breach the distance and lean / Toward an ordinary kiss. / Bliss. / it comes naked into the world like a charm.”
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☾AQUARIUS☽
W.B Yeats, A Coat
“I made my song a coat / Covered with embroideries / Out of old mythologies / From heel to throat; / But the fools caught it, / Wore it in the world’s eyes / As though they’d wrought it. / Song, let them take it / For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.”
W.B Yeats, The Lover Tells of the Roses in His Heart
“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, / The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, / The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, / Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, / With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”
Louisa May Alcott, The Lay of a Golden Goose
“Oh! Be not rash,” her father said, / A mild Socratic bird; / Her mother begged her not to stray / With many a warning word. / But little goosey was perverse / And eagerly did cry, / “I’ve got a lovely pair of wings, / Of course I Ought to fly.”
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☾CAPRICORN☽
John Milton, Sonnet 19
“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, / And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, through my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker,”
Jala al-Din Rumi, The Guest House
“This being human is a guest house. / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness, / some momentary awareness comes / As an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, / who violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture, / still treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out / for some new delight. / The dark thought, the shame, the malice, / meet them at the door laughing, / and invite them in. / Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”
Gwendolyn Brooks, a song in the front yard
“I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. / I want a peek at the back / Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed / grows. / A girl gets sick of a rose.”
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☾SAGITTARIUS☽
Lewis Carroll, A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
“In a Wonderland they lie, / Dreaming as the days go by, / Dreaming as the summers die: / Ever drifting down the stream – / Lingering in the golden gleam – / Life, what it is but a dream?”
Dante Alighieri, From “Inferno”
“It’s the pain / of the people down there that empties my / face. / It’s pity / that you’ve mistaken for fear. / And it’s the long way / that pushes us now. / Let’s go.”
Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, At Dawn
“Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, / I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me. / I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain. / I can no longer remain far from you. / I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, / Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise / Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed, / Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as night.”
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☾SCORPIO☽
Sarojini Naid, Autumn Song
“Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, / The sunset hangs on a cloud; / A golden storm of glittering sheaves, / Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, / The wild wind blows in a cloud. / Hark to a voice that is calling / To my heart in the voice of the wind: / My heart is weary and sad and alone, / For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, / And why should I stay behind?”
Shel Silverstein, Dreadful
“Someone ate the baby. / It’s absolutely clear / Someone ate the baby / ‘Cause the baby isn’t here. / We’ll give away her toys and clothes. / We’ll never have to wipe her nose. / Dad says, “That’s the way it goes.” / Someone ate the baby.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Aftermath
“When the summer fields are mown, / When the birds are fledged and flown, / And the dry leaves strew the path; / With the falling of the snow, / With the cawing of the crow, / Once again the fields we mow / And gather in the aftermath.”
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☾LIBRA☽
Maya Angelou, Caged Bird
“A free bird leaps / on the back of the wind / and floats downstream / till the current ends / and dips his wing / in the orange sun rays / and dares to claim the sky.”
Emily Dickinson, Good Morning – Midnight
“Good Morning – Midnight – / I’m coming Home – / Day – got tired of Me – / How could I – of Him? / Sunshine was a sweet place – / I liked to stay – / But Morn – didn’t want me – now – / So – Goodnight – Day!”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, My Heart and I
“You see we’re tired, my heart and I. / We dealt with books, we trusted men, / And in our own blood drenched the pen, / As is such colours could not fly. / We walked too straight for fortune’s end, / We loved too true to keep a friend ; / At last we’re tired, my heart and I.”
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☾VIRGO☽
Robert Hayden, Those Winter Sundays
“Sundays too my father got up early / and put his clothes on in the blueback cold, / then with cracked hands that ached / from labor in the weekday weather made / banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. / I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking / When the rooms were warm, he’d call, / and slowly I would rise and dress, / fearing the chronic angers of that house, / Speaking indifferently to him , / who had driven out the cold / and polished my good shoes well. / What did I know, what did I know / of love's austere and lonely offices?”
Jack Kerouac, How to Meditate
“Thinking’s just like not thinking- / So I don't have to think / any / more”
William Faulkner, Study
“Muted dreams for them / for me / Bitter science. Exams are near / And my thoughts uncontrollably / Wander, and I cannot hear / The voice telling me that work I must, / For everything will be the same when I’m dead / A thousand years. I wish I were a bust / All head.”
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☾LEO☽
Walt Whitman, I sing the Body Electric
“I sing the body electric, / The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,”
Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, / By each let this be heard, / Some do it with a bitter look, / Some with a flattering word, / The coward does it with a kiss, / The brave men with a sword!”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship
“A ruddy drop of manly blood / The surging sea outweighs, / The world uncertain comes and goes; / The lover rooted stays. / I fancied he was fled, – / And, after many a year, / Glowed unexhausted kindliness, / Like daily sunrise there. / My careful heart was free again, / O friend, my bosom said, / Through thee alone the sky is arched, / Through thee the rose is red; / All things through thee take nobler form, / And look beyond the earth, / The mill-round of our fate appears / A sun-path in thy worth. / Me too thy nobleness had taught / To master my despair; / The fountains of my hidden life / Are through thy friendship fair.”
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☾CANCER☽
Shakespear, Sonnet 147
“My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease, / Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,”
Robert Frost, Acquainted with the Night
“I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light. / I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. / I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”
William Blake, Auguries of innocence
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a wild flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour”
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☾GEMINI☽
Rudyard Kipling, Blue Roses
“Half the world I wandered through, / Seeking where such flowers grew. / Half the world unto my quest / Answered me with laugh and jest. / Home I came at wintertide, / But my silly love had died / Seeking with her latest breath / Roses from the arms of Death.”
John Keats, To Sleep
“Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords / Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; / Turn the key deftly into the oiled wards, / And seal the hushed Casket of my soul.”
Lord Tennyson, The Eagle
“He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, / Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls, / And like thunderbolt he falls.”
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☾TAURUS☽
John Donne, Air and Angels
“Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, / Before I knew thy face or name; / So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame / Angels affects us oft, and worshipp’d be;”
Audre Lorde, Recreation
“my body / writes into your flesh / the poem / you make of me. / Touching you I catch midnight / as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom / I made you / and take you made / into me.”
Margaret Walker, Lineage
“My grandmothers were strong. / They followed plows and bent to toil. / They moved through fields sowing seed. / They touched earth and grain grew. / They were full of sturdiness and singing. / My grandmothers were strong. / My grandmothers are full of memories / Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay / With veins rolling roughly over quick hands / They have many clean words to say. / My grandmothers were strong. / Why am I not as they?”
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☾ARIES☽
E.E Cummings, Love is more thicker than forget
“love is more thicker than forget / more thinner than recall / more seldom than a wave is wet / more frequent than to fail”
Mark Twain, Genius
“But above all things, / to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse / and then rush off and get booming drunk, / is the surest of all the different signs / of genius.”
Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships that Pass in the Night
“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; / I look far out into the pregnant night, / Where I can hear a solemn booming gun / And I catch the gleaming of a random light, / That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.”
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footygirl114 · 8 months
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Abrir (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
Surprise? Here is part #4 in my body guard series! I guess the inspiration was flowing and got me to write today so enjoy (I think)
Check out Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.
At 630 on the dot you were standing outside the building leaning against the SUV, when Alexia comes out she’s dressed more casual than you were expecting for a date. The tight jeans, cropped top, and oversized jacket complete with white sneakers. It was an outfit you appreciated, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes off the smooth skin that was shown off over her abdomen. 
You don’t say anything as she walks closer, deciding to turn and open the back door for her. She looks at you with a shake of her head and a small smile and gets into the back silently. You turn and get into the front seat. The driver was always used when you were going places other than the field where the parking was secure. Any new place you went with Alexia, you also got out with her when she was dropped off to remain by her side. 
The drive to the restaurant was silent, you were quite happy to have a third party in the car allowing you to be a bit grumpy in the front seat. When the car pulls up to the restaurant you know you have a furrowed eye brow when you see the crowd out front. You see multiple news outlets and what looks like a media wall set up for the walk in. 
Still confused you get out and open the back door for Alexia, she smirks at you and says quietly “FC Barcelona are hosting a media event for all the media that cover our games, my presence is mandatory but I won’t be long” She walks away from you toward the media wall where she meets up with Mapi and Ingrid and they pose for pictures. 
You stay back and feel quite silly for feeling jealous over nothing. You spend the rest of the time at the restaurant leaned against a wall near the entrance keeping one eye on Alexia the whole time. When she’s ready to leave you also end up bringing both Mapi and Ingrid back to Alexia’s apartment. The ride is filled with the three of them laughing in the back, you get out and open the door for them following them into the lobby of the building. 
“Have a goodnight Ms. Putellas” you tell her as you walk towards the elevator to the rest of the building. 
“Y/N, come have a drink with us?” Mapi asks stopping you in your tracks. 
Slowly turning around you meet Alexia’s eyes over her shoulder who is smiling softly at you, but it reminds you of how silly you reacted earlier and you shake your head saying “another time.” 
Mapi smiles and says “I will hold you to that.” 
You turn and wait for them to board the private elevator before you press the button to call yours. The rest of the night was spent thinking over the day, how jealous you actually felt when you thought Alexia was going out with someone else. But you were also thinking about what Michelle said, how maybe you should let it happen naturally and see where things go. 
**
On Monday morning you had a whole speech planned for Alexia, and when she walked out to the car where you were waiting you immediately blurted out “I am so sorry Ms. Putellas.” 
She smiles and responds “What not even a hello?” 
“Hi, but I mean it, I was not very professional in how I acted on Saturday and I apologise” As you finish she walks towards the car stopping about a foot in front of you.
“It’s okay Y/N, it was actually a good thing.” 
“what do you mean?” You ask her opening the car door for her.
She chuckles and moves to get into the car, as she steps by you into the car she says “Jealous means you have something to lose, and that you care” as she finishes she hops in the car and you automatically close the door behind her. 
You shake your head with a smile and move to the drivers side of the car, hopping in you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror and say “I do care about you Alexia” and you shift the car into drive pulling out of the parking lot into the roadway. 
When you get into traffic you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror again and she smiles at you with a wink and says “I care about you too.” 
The rest of the drive you sneak glances at her in the rearview mirror but there is no more words spoken just your eyes meeting in the mirror. When you get to the training centre you follow the usual procedure of dropping her at the door and watching until she enters the building, the only difference is she turns and looks back at you with a smirk and a wink before she disappears behind the door. 
Shaking your head with a laugh you park the car and move to gather your stuff to enter the facility. When you walk in you are met with the PR girl who smiles and says “Hola Y/N, were you briefed on whats going on today?” 
Shaking your head “No I wasn’t” 
“I thought so, we have an open training session today, fans will be in attendance and then we have some ticket holders that will be allowed to field level for an autograph session with the players. It can get a bit hectic at the field level but everyone has bought a ticket to be there.” She says and she hands you another pass “this will get you to field level, more security here today to help control the crowds.” 
Nodding you say “thank you for the heads up.” 
She smiles and says “see you in a bit” and she turns and bounds down the hallway.
A few hours later you have worked out and showered, and are now sitting in the stands watching the end of the training session friendly match. You can tell the payers are putting on a bit of a show for the fans watching now, but it's a good environment for the young girls watching. When it ends you wait a bit for the crowds to thin knowing there is extra security for the players. 
After watching the players move to the benches where the special fans are waiting, you move and walk down the sidelines towards the benches. You spot Alexia as you get closer, with the biggest crowd around her for an autograph, she’s down on one knee signing a young girls jersey with that beautiful smile on her face. 
You stay back and admire her interacting with the fans for the next little while. When the crowd starts to thin a bit you can see the extra security guards around, you nod knowing that at least the club has the players safety as a priority. When your eyes stop on a certain security guard in a ball cap you have to rack your brain for where you recognise him. 
When the lightbulb goes off in your head you immediately move into action, you move closer to Alexia and keep an eye on him. He hasn’t noticed you yet as his eyes are locked on Alexia. You move towards her and when you get close enough she looks up and meets your eyes, she must see something in them as she stands and says her goodbyes to the fans she’s talking to. 
You get up beside her and place your hand on her lower back, and slowly push her away from the security guard who has now been alerted to your presence and is moving closer. You speed up and Alexia keeps up with you and when you round the corner towards the change rooms you push her into the closest room. 
It’s dark and you know its a supply closet and you push her body against the wall beside the door, you cover it with your own and she goes to speak but you shake your head and cover her mouth with your hand. You can hear the heavy footsteps moving down the hallway and you wait holding your breath for a few moments. 
Once you don’t hear any footsteps you can feel your body relax, and you notice where you are. You can feel her breasts pressed against yours, her hands are on your hips and one of yours is pressed on her abs the other is still covering her mouth. You meet her eyes and let your hand fall from her mouth, you look down at her lips and back up to her eyes. 
She nods subtly and you move to lean in, before you can close the distance you hear a commotion outside and the security guards escorting the fans out of the building ending their autograph session. You spring back from her and watch her chest rise and fall, as you also take a moment to catch your breath. 
“what the hell was that Y/N?” she asks you. 
You shake your head and move to the door, you pause beside her, and put your hand on her cheek and say “I promise I will tell you later, but I need to get you home safe first.” 
She nods and leans into your palm and turns her head and presses a soft kiss to your palm. 
“lets get out of here” you tell her and move your hand to open the door and step out first looking around and then waving her out. The rest of the time at the stadium goes by without a hitch and you get her back to the apartment. When you follow her into the lobby, she gives you no choice and pushes you towards her elevator. 
You ride up to her apartment in silence and follow her into the living room, she doesn’t say anything but moves to the kitchen and you watch standing there as she get two wine glasses down and grabs the bottle of wine. She then turns and smiles and nods her head to the outside balcony. You nod following her outside, she sits on the couch there and pours you each a glass of wine. 
Sitting down beside her you take the glass she hands you, and you watch as she leans back and gets comfortable on the couch. A few moments of silence pass and she says “I love looking at the stars, it reminds me how small we really are and how much there is out there going on we have no idea about. It also helps when I travel so much, I can always look up and see the same moon and the same stars no matter where I am.” 
You turn towards her and meet her eyes, you see the care and understanding reflecting in them and you can feel how much you want to open up to her. So you do “When I first joined the army, it was nice having the structure after growing up moving from foster home to foster home having some order in my life was a needed change.” 
She shifts and moves closer to you, but stays not touching you as you continue “I rose quickly threw the ranks, and after my first tour I was recruited into special ops. I lead a team for a while and was able to help a lot of young soldiers find their way. I never had someone like that and I always wanted to be like that for others, but it came with heavy consequences. I lost a lot of good people over there, and It felt like I wasn’t able to protect them.” When you get that part out you can feel the tears gather in the corner of your eyes. 
She shifts on the couch beside you and reaches one hand forward to entangle with yours as she says “you don’t have to talk about it.” 
You shake your head, not meeting her eyes as you say “I need you to understand why I take this so seriously Alexia, why I need to keep you safe.” 
“Okay” she says softly and moves closer and you can feel her body heat beside yours. 
You take a deep breathe and keep your eyes locked on the night sky “I was in the middle of my third tour, I had a squad under me, a lot of new younger soldiers. They would do anything for me, not just cause I was their superior but because I had taken them under my wing. One night they needed an extra squad for a night patrol. My team was eager and wanted to help so I volunteered them. We went out on patrol and the next thing you know I am watching the lead vehicle go up in flames.” 
You can hear her gasp beside you and her arm reaches out to start running up and down your hunched over back, as she softly says “Y/N.” 
Shaking your head you continue, still staring out at the sky, “We were ambushed and I couldn’t protect them, I lost 8 members of my squad that day, 4 in the vehicle and the other 4 following my orders trying to save them. I couldn’t protect any of them, I was supposed to protect them.” You barley get the last bit out before you can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. 
Alexia immediately pulls you into her and she wraps her arms around you softly whispering in your hair, letting you cry it out against her. 
You’re unsure how long you remain crying in her arms, but when you finally feel like you can talk you pull away from her. When you meet her eyes you can see the care and understanding in them as she reaches out and uses her thumbs to wipe your tears. You allow your self the moment of comfort before you pull back and stand up. 
You start pacing the length of the balcony in front of her and say “Today, that security guard was the same one who was at the fund-raising event, he was the one who was supposed to be guarding the door. He let those guys into the hallway where you were alone. I just saw him and immediately knew I needed to get you out of there Ale, I was not going to let him get you again, I needed to keep you safe.” 
When you finish you look up and she’s watching you with a small smile, it causes you to pause in the pacing. “Come here Y/N” she says to you, and pats the couch beside her. 
With a raised eyebrow you ask “what?” 
“Come here, I need you to stop pacing and come sit with me Y/N” she says firmly. 
Nodding you move to the couch and sit beside her, she immediately moves one hand to your hand and she squeezes, and the other she pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You squeeze her hand back and say softly “I’m sitting Ale.” 
Chuckling softly she squeezes your hand again, and places her hand on your cheek saying “look at me, I am here and safe because of you. You always make me feel safe Y/N, whether its right here or when we are out, I just meet your eyes and it’s like everything in me settles down. You make me feel safe.” 
You can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes and say “I do?” 
Nodding she says “you do Y/N, you do protect me and you make me feel safe.” She moves both hands up to your cheeks and pulls your face closer to her as she whispers “I know you will do anything to make me feel safe, and you will do anything to protect me. Now let me help you Y/N.” 
“Help me?” you ask with a raised eye brow. 
She chuckles and pulls your face closer pressing a kiss to your forehead whispering “You are not alone Y/N, I am here for you.” 
You smile and whisper “thank you.” 
She press a kiss to your nose and stands up and holds her hand out saying “now come with me.” 
“What?” you barley get out before she pulls you with her, you follow and she leads you into the bathroom attached to her bedroom. She leaves you standing there and you watch as she moves out of the room and comes back with a pile of clothes and a towel. 
She moves and turns on the shower as she says “You are going to get into the shower, and into the comfy clothes.”
She moves to leave the bathroom and you say “thank you Ale.” 
“I’ll be waiting for you, don’t take too long” she says with a wink. 
You smile to your self and hurry up in the shower. Finishing up you put her clothes on and you take a deep breath of her scent lingering on them. Walking out of the bathroom you are towel drying your hair and you see her sitting under the covers on the bed. You put the towel down and move towards the empty side of the bed. 
“get in Y/N, let me hold you” she says with a smirk and pats the empty side of the bed. 
You get in and she immediately guides you not your side and she slots her self behind you spooning you. One hand on your stomach rubbing softly one holding her head up over you. You close your eyes and lean into her asking “how did you know?” 
She presses a kiss to the back of your head and says “I wanted to hold you, and I hoped you did too. Plus I see the bags under your eyes Y/N, I am safe here with you. Now let me protect you and let you sleep.” 
You press back into her and turn your head enough to meet her eyes as you say “thank you Ale.”
She smiles and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips and says “Lets get some sleep.” 
Nodding you settle back on the pillow and feel her breathe on the back of your neck, you reach down and tangle your hand with hers on your stomach. You didn’t even know you needed it, but you can feel your body fully relax into hers, and you have a feeling it’ll be the best night sleep you have had in a long time. 
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judesmoonbeauty · 1 month
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Only Look At Me CE: Nica Schwartz
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*Nica is calling Kate “robin” in German. Hence, each time he uses German, I will use quotation marks to denote that going forward in the story.
** Nica is calling Kate (robin) in English for this specific line. In other words, he is using the normal (komadori).
***The translation says "opposite" of him, but context suggests Kate is sitting next to him. That's how I interpreted it anyway.
This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate, so please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Dividers: @/adornedwithlight. Thank you for your support! ☾.
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On my way home from submitting my report, I was stopped by an unexpected person.
Nica: Hey there, Miss.
One of the Vogel twins stood in front of me.
Kate: Is something wrong?
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Nica: Actually, I got lost, would you mind showing me around?
As I nodded in surprise, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed.
Nica: Thanks. 
Kate: No problem, so where are you headed?
Nica: The chambers we’re staying in, you know the way right?
Kate: Of course, it’s this way!
I pointed down the hallway and started walking, with him chuckling as he followed from behind.
Nica: Meeting you here, seems like I’ve still got it. 
(I’m little wary because of what Harrison said.)
(He’s easy to talk and doesn’t seem like a bad person.)
Even though I know they’re lying somehow, I still don’t know if it’s a bad lie.
(It’s not good to judge someone before you know them.)
We arrived in no time as I walked and thought this.
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Nica: Thank you for your help, “Robin.”*
Kate: “Robin”?
Nica: It means “Robin” in German.
Nica: Doesn’t Crown call you, robin?**
Nica: Hence, “robin”.
He sat down and looked at the empty seat opposite to him.***
Nica: Won’t you have a seat?
Kate: Huh?
Nica: Let’s have a chat while you’re here. I’d like to ask you about work and other things.
Despite my being nervous that we were alone, he propped his chin on his hand.
Nica: Besides, I’m interested in you.
Even though he was smiling, his eyes pierced me like someone who’d caught his prey.
As I slowly sat down, he smiled in satisfaction while calling a maid for some tea.
Nica: Well then, should I introduce myself again?
Kate: Oh, please do.
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Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, the staff officer of Vogel, an organization under the direct command of the Emperor of Germany. 
Kate: What exactly does a staff officer do?
Nica: I gather information, and support Dari in various ways by using my brains.
Nica: Details are a confidential.
Nica: Oh, by the way. You can call me Nica. There’s no need to call me ‘Mister’.
Kate: Okay then, Nica.
His smile deepened as I called his name, and then he pointed at me.
Nica: Right, now it’s your turn.
Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There’s several reasons why I got this job, but I used to work as a postwoman.
Nica: Hmm, then you’re well-informed about the roadways?
Kate: That’s right! We delivered all over London, so I could even guide you.
Nica: That’s great, next time I’ll ask you to show me around the city.
His words interrupted me as I reached for my teacup.
Nica: What kinds of things do you do as a Fairytale Keeper?
Kate: My job entails accompanying Crown activities and recording what happens.
(In reality, there’s a lot more to it than that…..)
I don’t want to say anymore than that because I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk in detail.
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Nica: But you’re just an ordinary person aren’t you? Isn’t it dangerous?
Kate: The Crown members have promised to protect me.
Nica: Really….
He seemed to be thinking about something while listening to me speak, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that feeling disappeared when his expression suddenly brightened.
Nica: You’re the verrry cute “robin” of Crown.
Nica: You’re cherished.
Kate: That’s n….
(It’s true that they treat me with respect but……)
It all started only because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil,
(I desperately didn’t want to die, which led me to where I am now.)
If I hadn’t said anything then, I might not be in this world now.
Nica: Dari probably wouldn’t like it, but it might be fun if Vogel had a Fairytale Keeper back home.
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Nica: Oh, but Ring wouldn’t do well.
Kate: Wouldn’t do well?
Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s doesn’t socialize with others too well.
(It’s true, the first time we met, he gave off a cold impression….)
While I was thinking of our first encounter, Nica looked into my face.
Nica: What, are you curious about Ring?
Kate: No, that’s not it…..
Nica: My - that’s. Don’t do that.
He put his finger to my lips, and he smiled with extreme charm. 
Then we talked about trivial everyday life, and before I knew it, the sky had turned deep red.
(It’s already that time….)
When he looked at the clock, his eyes widened in exaggeration.
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Nica: Wow, it’s already this late. I guess it’s time to part ways.
Kate: Well, it’s was nice chatting with you.
Nica: Same here, let’s do it again.
I stood up, thanked him for opening the door, and was about to leave the room.
Kate: What?
He grabs a lock of my hair and places his lips upon its tips.
Nica: Until next time.
Even when my lips parted I was speechless.
Nica: Oh, did you forget your way home? 
Or do you want to stay locked up with me and not go home?
His inciting tone made me realize that I had been taken lightly.
(For Nica, this conversation was a wait-and-see thing, and if he got serious -)
-Then he could easily steal my heart.
Kate: Please, excuse me.
With my cheeks suddenly becoming hot, I started to run not caring if there were other people around.
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Nica: Bis Dann (Later), “Robin”.
Before my heart is stolen by him.
As I lay on the sofa, my younger brother entered with a gaunt face.
Nica: What is it, did you get lost again?
Ring: Yeah….it’s so large that I couldn’t tell where I was.
Ring sat on a chair and sighed.
Ring: I wish I could memorize the layouts of buildings as quickly as you do Nica……
I laugh at his words.
Nica: It’s possible to get lost on “purpose.”
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Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar
Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]
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Can't wait to tear this MF up /aff. GIMME!
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roosterforme · 2 years
Text
The Purrfect Storm | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley inadvertently becomes a pet owner after he hits a stray with his Bronco. When he meets a lovely vet tech who is willing to help, both Bradley and the cat fall for her instantly.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, a bit of angst
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!
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Bradley was on his way home late from work, anxious to get there before the sky opened up. Dark, ominous clouds had just moved in, signaling a rare downpour was about to hit San Diego.
He zipped along an empty, wooded side street just as a loud crack of thunder rocked his Bronco. Then his headlights caught something gray dashing out of the trees, and he tried his best to swerve, but he was afraid he had just hit an animal. 
"Damn it," he muttered, pulling over and turning on his hazard lights. He jumped out of the Bronco to see if he could spot anything in the roadway. The wind was picking up, and he could feel the first few drops of rain, but as soon as Bradley saw the gray cat that was no longer able to walk correctly, he ran toward it. 
When he got closer he saw a little bit of blood matted in its fur, and he immediately felt like a villain. He also had no idea how to take care of an injured cat. 
"Here kitty?" he said awkwardly as he approached the immobile animal. He was greeted with a loud, angry meow. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I hit you. But can you just be chill while I pick you up?"
As soon as he had both hands around the middle of the cat, it sank its sharp teeth into the back of his hand.
"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Bradley yelled, getting pelted with more raindrops. "I'm trying to help you now, you ungrateful little shit!"
Big, angry yellow eyes looked up at him as he clamped the cat's mouth shut with one big hand and then tried to scoop it up again. This seemed to work better, so he carted it back to the Bronco and set it on the back seat floor area. 
"Just relax, I know where there's a veterinary clinic," he told it with an eye roll before he climbed back in and pulled away. 
Bradley navigated a lot slower now that the rain was coming down. But when he pulled into the clinic parking lot, he only saw one light on inside. There was someone moving around at the front desk, so he hopped out into the pouring rain and gently held the cat with its mouth closed. He knocked on the door with his knuckle and watched the woman behind the front desk look at him a little warily before she headed toward the door.
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You were alone in the clinic with the door locked, trying to finish the weekly audit so you could leave. You always stayed late on Thursday nights, and now you were going to have to drive home in this crazy storm. 
When you heard someone knocking on the door, you jumped in your seat. You tried to see who it was, but the rain was obscuring the window portion of the door, so you made your way over only to find a soaking wet man in a naval uniform holding a drenched cat.
"I'm sorry, we're closed," you told him loudly through the door.
He glared at the cat and then tilted his head back and let the rain pour on his face for a beat. Finally he groaned and looked at you with pleading eyes. "You can't do anything? I hit this cat on my way home from work!"
You sighed and looked at all of his insignia pins, including his nametag. Bradshaw. It was pretty unlikely that an officer was here to murder you, especially since a good portion of your clients were naval families. Plus, he had actually brought the injured animal here instead of leaving it in the road.
"I can take a quick look," you told him as you unlocked the door. When you opened it and finally got a good look at him, you went a little speechless. He was really tall and really muscular. And even with his brown hair wet and messy across his forehead, you could tell he was really handsome. "Come on in," you managed to say, and he slipped inside with the cat. You locked the door behind him.
"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I feel terrible enough about what happened, but this cat hates me so much right now, I'd be a little afraid to take it to my house with me in this condition."
You laughed as he winced at you, and you immediately noticed the teeth marks on the back of his hand. 
"Oh, he got you good," you remarked. "Definitely doesn't like you too much at the moment. Let's see if I can get him patched up."
"It's a male?" officer Bradshaw asked as you signalled for him to follow you back to an exam room. 
"Yeah, I figured he was, because he's huge. But he definitely is. I could tell when you held him up."
Bradley scoffed. "I should have known. Females are usually more accommodating towards me."
You laughed softly and said, "I'll bet they are," under your breath. But then you realized that you were the sucker who agreed to let him get his cat checked out after hours. So you definitely shouldn't be surprised.
"Up on the table," you instructed, and you watched him release the cat and take a huge step away from it. "Aww, come on. He's a sweetheart!" you said, stroking the cat and making him purr. "What did he ever do to you?"
You watched officer Bradshaw hold up his bloody hand with a bland look. 
"That's totally fair since you ran him over," you said with a smirk. "And I'll look at your hand after I see how much damage there is to his leg here."
"Thank you," he muttered, reaching for a paper towel to press against his hand while he dripped water all over the floor. "I appreciate it. I'm Bradley, by the way."
You glanced at him briefly and smiled as you told him your name. "And what's the cat's name?"
Bradley just shrugged. "He doesn't have a collar, and he's pretty grungy. He's probably a stray."
"You should name him then," you said as you felt around the cat's leg with gentle fingers. It was a pretty clean break that you would be able to take care of tonight without the vet here.
"Sunshine," Bradley said sarcastically. "His name is Sunshine." You looked up at him, and he was smiling at you and the cat, his handsome features betraying his stern voice as he smiled.
"Did you hear that, Sunshine? Your daddy clearly thinks the world of you, and he's going to take the best care of your leg after I splint it."
"I am?" he asked, leaning closer to you. "Come on, doc. I can't keep this cat. He'll kill me in my sleep," he reiterated, holding up his hand and the bloody paper towel. He wasn't wearing a ring.
You laughed at the concerned look on his face. "Okay, first of all, I'm not the vet. I'm just a tech. Second, someone needs to take care of Sunshine, and I think that someone is going to be you. And third, girls dig guys who have pets. Does that help make this more appealing for you?" 
He took another step closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat. He was just a few inches away and glaring playfully at you. "First of all, you seem to know what you're doing well enough, so you could have lied and told me you were the vet. Second, Sunshine here will have me sleeping with one eye open. And third, yeah, maybe that does make this more appealing to me."
Your belly swooped, and you had to bite your lip. His brown eyes were the color of deep amber up close, and his mustache made everything he said seem more playful. 
"And fourth," he added, "do all women dig men who have pets? Or are you speaking from personal preference here? Either way, it does sound appealing to me."
You were gaping at him now, and a startled laugh escaped your parted lips. 
Meow!
"Sorry, Sunshine," you told the cat, patting his matted, damp fur until he was calm again. "You're right. This is about you, not Bradley." You positioned yourself in front of the cat and grinned over your shoulder. "I think it's all women, but it's definitely me," you whispered with a smile. You were met with a crooked grin as Bradley pushed his damp hair back from his face. 
"Good to know," he told you softly.
And now it was time to get to work. You made a mental list of all of the supplies you would need, then you turned to Bradley and reached for his good hand. He grabbed onto yours without hesitation. "Here, keep a hand on Sunshine and make sure he stays on the table," you said, running your thumb along his calloused fingers. 
"Alright," he said a bit reluctantly, squeezing your hand before letting go of you and holding the cat.
"I'll be right back with everything I need for the splint."
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Bradley watched you leave the small room, and he took a second to breathe in deeply and let it out slowly. You were fucking adorable. And he was very attracted to you. 
"Don't mess this up for us now," he told the cat as he waited for you to return. By the sound of things, the storm was still raging outside, but Bradley was in no hurry to leave anyway. He was still wet from the rain, and he probably looked like a mess, but it didn't matter. He'd stay here all night with you if you'd let him.
You strolled back into the room with some bandages, splints, and a weird thing covered in velcro. "This will only take a minute," you told him and Sunshine with a smile. He watched you measure the split against the cat's leg before cutting it to length. Then you set the bone in place with your fingers, gently talking the whole time so the cat would stay calm. Next you quickly wrapped the splint up tight with the bandage. 
"Now I need your help," you told Bradley, and you took his hand again. "Hold this bandage just like that so I can clip it in place." 
Bradley did exactly as he was told, and soon you were wrapping the velcro around everything to keep the cat's leg in one position. 
"Done!"
"Impressive," Bradley remarked. Even the cat looked way calmer now as he curled up on the exam table and ate the snack you gave him.
"Okay, now let me check you out," you said, holding out your small hand and letting him rest his palm against yours. "I'll need to clean it to get a better look," you told him, gazing up at him. "Might sting a bit."
"I can handle it," he reassured you as you led him to the sink. 
"I'm sure you can... Lieutenant? Is that what I'm looking at here?" you asked, nodding to the pins on his chest as you sprayed his hand with an antiseptic and dabbed at it with a cotton ball. 
"Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Bradshaw," he told you, earning a smile.
"At ease, sailor." Your gaze was playful as you looked up at him and grabbed a clean cotton ball.
"Aviator, actually," Bradley informed you. 
"Oh, wow. Your daddy is fancy," you said over your shoulder to the cat who was now grooming himself on the exam table. 
"I still can't believe I have a cat now," he muttered, making you laugh as you taped some sterile gauze to the back of his hand. "You should give me your number since I don't know what I'm doing. You know... just in case. You wouldn't want Sunshine to suffer in any way, would you?"
You smirked up at him as you finished taping him up. Bradley just gave you his most innocent look in return. "You're something else," you told him.
"Something good?" he asked, and he watched your lips curl into a soft smile.
A loud rumble of thunder had Sunshine standing up and hissing. "It's okay," you told him, turning to reach for him, but then the power went out, bathing everything in complete darkness.
Bradley heard a thump that sounded like Sunshine had jumped off the table, and when he reached out, the cat was no longer there. 
"Oh no, he's loose somewhere in the building," you said, taking out your phone and turning on the flashlight. "Sunshine!" you called, shaking the bag of cat treats. Bradley followed you out into the hallway, but he bumped into the back of you.
"Sorry," he said, stopping himself with his hands on your shoulders. 
"It's okay," you said softly as he took his hands away from you and tucked them into his wet pockets. 
"Can he hurt anything? Or get hurt?" Bradley asked, looking up and down the hallway as you shone the light around. 
"Aww, you sound like a concerned pet parent."
Bradley groaned. "He's growing on me, I think."
Your laughter rang out in the semi-darkness before the light went out. 
"Shit, my phone died," you told him.
Bradley checked his only to find he had about ten percent of his battery left. "Mine is not far behind yours."
"Don't use it, just in case we need to call someone," you said, turning to face him. Bradley could feel your hands on his chest very briefly. "Oh, there you are," you said softly. "Come with me to the waiting room, and I'll get you some towels."
Bradley felt your fingers dance down along his arm until they tangled with his. Then you were leading him back to the front of the building. It was a little easier to see up here, as a streetlight outside provided some light. 
"Don't move," you instructed softly, and Bradley could make out the shape of your profile as you turned away from him and disappeared. 
He was stuck here now. He wasn't sure if he should be thankful or upset. But he couldn't leave Sunshine loose in the clinic for the night. And he supposed you were stuck here too, since you couldn't leave him here alone with his dumb cat.
Bradley saw you in the shadows when you returned. "I got you some towels and a set of scrubs you can change into. My boss is about your size."
"Thanks," he replied, taking everything from your hands. "Where should I change?"
You laughed. "It doesn't matter. I can't see you."
"What if the power comes back on?!" 
You laughed harder, and Bradley loved the sound. "Go back behind my desk, and I'll turn around."
Bradley took a few steps and then slammed into a file cabinet. "Ow!"
"Oh sorry, don't hit the file cabinet," you said in a sweet voice laced with laughter. 
"Don't worry. I won't." Bradley awkwardly stripped out of his damp uniform and underwear with you standing ten feet away from him. He had to peel the fabric from his skin and hang it over your chair as neatly as he could. 
"So you're an aviator. What do you fly? Super Hornets? Helicopters? Comanches?" you asked as he ran one of the towels along his naked body. 
"You know a lot about naval aircrafts. And to answer your question, Super Hornet." He slipped into the well worn scrubs and tied them up at the waist. They were a little snug, as was the shirt, but it was better than being wet. 
"It's hard to live near Fightertown and not pick up on a few things," you told him. "You need help getting back around the file cabinet?"
"Nah, I'm good," he said, and somehow he found your hand in the darkness. And somehow you let him hold it. 
You laced your fingers with his and softly said, "Maybe we should try to find Sunshine one more time? Otherwise, I think we're stuck here for the night."
Bradley silently prayed that Sunshine was tucked safely away somewhere he couldn't be found in the dark. "That's a good idea," he confirmed out loud. Because he did feel kind of bad making you stay at your workplace all night, especially since he barged in on you unannounced with the cat. "I'm sorry I've been such an inconvenience when you were just trying to be helpful."
"Don't worry about it. I'm a sucker for injured animals. And brunettes."
Jesus. Bradley had been afraid maybe you had a boyfriend or something. But now you were flirting with him again, just like you had been earlier. You were also holding his hand a little tighter. And each time you wanted to change directions, you placed your other palm on his chest. 
"This is kind of fun," he murmured when you had your palm on his chest, guiding him into a different exam room. 
"Is it?" you asked with a giggle. 
"Yeah," he said, smiling as you pushed him where you wanted him to go. "It feels like one of those games from when you were in high school, you know? Spending time alone with a cute girl in the dark."
He could hear you exhale and feel it against his neck. You were so close to him. "Seven minutes in heaven?" you asked close to his ear. 
"Yeah, seven minutes in heaven," he confirmed, grinning like a lunatic.
"I never played that in high school," you told him, letting go of his chest to feel around the exam table for the cat. "Did you?" He felt your palm come to rest on him again. 
"Once or twice. But I was a real nerd back then. I just made it further with you than I ever did in high school," he admitted. Your soft laughter filled the room, and now Bradley was praying in earnest that Sunshine was very, very well hidden until the morning. 
"I find it hard to believe you used to be a nerd. You're very...."
"I'm very what?" he asked as you effortlessly lured him all around the dark clinic with you. 
"Sizeable," you told him as you ended up back in the hallway again.
"Sizeable?" he balked. "Did you just call me large?"
You were laughing again, and he really wished he could see your face right now. "I meant it as a compliment!" you insisted. 
"Ohhh," he said, feigning ignorance. "You must have never given someone a compliment before. Here, let me show you how. You're funny, smart, and very cute."
"Thank you," you whispered, leading him into one more exam room. 
"I wasn't done yet. You're also surprisingly good at navigating in the dark."
You laughed again, and your hand landed on his chest, but this time it was because you tripped and ended up pushing him up against the wall. 
"I take that back, you're terrible at navigating in the dark," he whispered, keeping his fingers laced with yours and steadying you with his other hand at your waist. "Are you okay?" 
This time your breathy laugh was very close to him. "You know, I was going to pretend I tripped on your cat, but I think you've just got me flustered. It's a good thing you're so sizeable, otherwise you might be splinting my leg right now."
Bradley felt your hand move up to the scars on his neck, and your fingers danced to his ear and up into his hair. He guided you a little closer so your entire body was skimming against his, and he could hear your breath hitch. 
"Yeah, it's a good thing," he agreed. His eyes fluttered closed in the dark, and he instinctively found your lips with his. One chaste kiss led to another and another, your lips brushing his. You parted your lips just enough to tease his bottom lip as your fingers gently pulled through his messy hair, and Bradley felt you melt into him. His heart was beating faster now, and he wanted to push you up against the wall.
Meow!
You gently released his lips, rubbing your nose against his as you took a small step away from him. Bradley quickly laced his fingers with yours again and cleared his throat.
"That didn't sound like Sunshine," Bradley said, trying to keep you as close as possible. He sighed in relief as your palm found its way to his chest again.
"It wasn't," you whispered. "There's a cat in a kennel in the back room. Let's go check on her."
So Bradley followed your lead to the end of the hallway, his heart still beating a little fast. 
"This is Ginger," you told him, guiding him over to a large cage. He could barely make out the cat inside with the scant light coming through the window. 
"What's wrong with her?" Bradley asked, kneeling down to get a better look. 
You sighed, never releasing his hand. "Her owner, if you can even call him that, didn't bring her here in time after she had a broken leg. You're really a very good pet daddy to Sunshine, even though you are clearly reluctant." You squeezed his hand. 
"What's going to happen to Ginger?" he asked, reaching his fingers through the cage to pet her fur. She meowed and nudged his fingers with her head. 
"Not sure yet. Her owner won't sign the paperwork for us to re break and try to set her leg correctly. He also won't agree to pay for medical care. I tried to kidnap her, but my boss wouldn't let me."
Bradley gave the cat one last scratch and stood up. "What if I steal her, and you pretend like you have no idea what happened to her?"
You giggled again and pulled him closer to you. "Oh, I like that idea. I also like the idea of you having two cats. That's adorable."
Bradley was grinning in the darkness. "I like being adorable."
You just hummed and whispered, "I think we're stuck here for the night." He could feel your breath on his neck again. "There's a loveseat in the breakroom. One of us can sleep on that."
"You take it. I can sleep on the floor."
You started to lead him in the direction of the breakroom, but it was very dark in there. He could barely see anything. 
"Maybe we could share it?" you asked so softly, Bradley was afraid he might have misheard.
"Okay....we can share it," he replied, and he sat down hard as you guided him over to the small sofa. His heart was beating a little faster again as he blindly tried to move the loose pillow against the armrest, and then he was reaching for you.
You were laughing softly. "How do you want to do this?"
Bradley's heart was hammering now. He wanted to kiss you again. "However you want." With a palm against his chest, you pushed him back against the pillow on the armrest, and he stretched himself out on his back across the loveseat. It was uncomfortable, and his feet were hanging way off the far end, but as soon as you eased yourself down against him, everything felt perfect.
"Is this okay?" you asked next to his ear as you kind of wedged yourself up against the back of the loveseat with your body halfway on top of his. Your chest was pressing against his, and Bradley could feel your leg come to rest between his knees. 
"Yes," he managed, his voice coming out raspier. "Is this okay?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your waist. 
You answered with a soft hum and let your palm rest against his chest like you had been doing all night. Oh no. He liked you. This felt too good, and Bradley probably wouldn't make it through the night with his heart intact. But he let you snuggle up against him in the pitch black room.
---------------------------
You weren't really sure if this was a good idea, but your night had taken a turn for the better when Bradley and Sunshine arrived, so you decided to just go with it. 
"Are you comfy?" you asked him, and you felt the deep rumble of his voice against your cheek and hand.
"Very. Are you warm enough?" 
If anything, you were too warm, pressed up against him like this. His body temperature was hot, and so was he. Bradley had managed to get you pretty giddy by this point, after sharing just a few kisses. The thing you couldn't understand was how comfortable you felt with him already. You'd just met him, and now you were both spending the night in the clinic together, but you weren't nervous or wary of him. 
"I'm beginning to think Sunshine premeditated this whole thing," he told you with a soft laugh. "Because I've been looking for a while, and I've never met anyone like you."
You bit your lip and angled your face toward his. "What does that mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
You could feel his hand tighten a little bit on your waist at your use of his rank. "It means I like you. A lot. And I'm desperately trying not to be creepy, because we're kind of stuck here together since the power is out and we can't find my cat, but I'm hoping you like me too."
In an instant, you let your lips connect with his again as you eased yourself a bit further up his body. As your fingers stroked along his cheek and up into his hair, you pulled your lips away from his and said, "I do." 
But as soon as the words were out of your mouth, Bradley was luring your lips back to his lips. He was so big and strong, but his kisses were soft, and his hands were undemanding against your lower back. He let you take the lead, never making you feel like you were trapped on the loveseat with him.
So you let yourself indulge in the sensation of his mustache against your skin and his legs tangled with yours. When you tugged your fingers through his hair, he groaned softly into your mouth, and you smiled against his lips. 
"Are you going to let me have your number?" he asked as you pulled away a few inches to catch your breath. 
You pressed your lips to his cheek and said, "Probably."
"Damn, what do I have to do to get a solid yes?" he asked, and you could tell he was smiling. 
"Tell me more about yourself," you whispered.
"I can do that," Bradley replied, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. So he told you all about his job, which sounded extremely exciting. He didn't tell you much about his family, other than he was pretty much alone. And he told you about his friends, who all sounded like a riot. 
"Sounds like you only have one thing missing in your life," you whispered against his neck.
"A girlfriend?" he asked, brushing his lips against your forehead. 
You had to bite your lip to keep from squealing. "I was going to say a cat," you told him. 
"Nah, Sunshine already took care of that, wherever he is. Tell me about you."
Bradley asked all the right questions at all the right times as you told him about yourself. He didn't think it was weird that you had a deaf, three-legged dog. He seemed to like that you volunteered at the animal shelter. And he invited you to get a drink with him at some bar called the Hard Deck tomorrow night. 
You yawned and snuggled against his neck, whispering, "I think I would like that." And soon you were falling asleep in his arms. 
-----------------------
Your pillow never felt this warm and comfortable. And why hadn't your alarm gone off? It was so bright in here, it must be time to get up for work. 
You stretched your arms just as you heard, "Good morning," whispered in a very raspy voice. 
"Oh!" you gasped, your eyes suddenly open, wide awake. You were staring at Bradley as he smiled hesitantly back at you. "You're so handsome. I was beginning to think I had imagined how you looked before the power went out."
He just laughed and seemed to take that as his cue to run his fingers along your arm. "That was a fun sleepover. Don't usually get to wake up with anything cute draped across me."
"Oh, Sunshine will remedy that, I'm sure," you said teasingly, letting your lips brush against his. Bradley was instantly smiling. 
Then you heard some purring from the doorway. "Speak of the devil," Bradley whispered. "Come here, Sunshine. We were looking for you."
But he just purred louder and louder. "He's probably hungry. I need to feed Ginger anyway, so I'll feed him too."
You peeled yourself off of Bradley and got another good look at him as he lounged back against the arm of the loveseat. You giggled, because he was way too big for the piece of furniture, and the scrubs you gave him were a little small. 
"What?" he asked, looking kind of smug.
"Nothing. But you need to get up before my boss comes in," you said, biting your lip and turning toward Ginger's kennel. But a loud knock on the front door had you panicking. Your boss would have just let himself in. "I'm going to check to see who it is."
"Want me to come with you?" Bradley asked, instantly at your back. 
But you were looking up through the front window, and you immediately recognized Ginger's owner. "No, I'll be okay," you grumbled, straightening your scrubs as you headed toward the waiting room. 
You unlocked the door and let him inside, fully aware that nobody seemed to care when your office hours actually started. "We actually don't open for another hour, but if you're here to sign the paperwork for us to try to fix Ginger's leg, I can get that ready for you."
But he just scoffed. "I'm not signing it. There's no way I'm spending that kind of money for a cat. I can't believe you even think that's reasonable."
You had to bite your tongue. It was only a few hundred dollars. 
"I'm just here to pick her up so I don't have to keep paying for you to board her," he added impatiently. 
But your brow scrunched up. "What are you going to do with her?"
He was rolling his eyes now. "Does it matter?"
You pressed your lips together in a tight line before you said, "It matters to me, yes."
"I'll just leave her somewhere. Maybe someone else will find her or maybe not, but I already got a new kitten for my kids."
Your blood was boiling now. "You're not serious," you said, raising your voice. 
"Just give me the cat, and don't charge me a kennel fee for today."
Bradley strolled out into the waiting room and asked, "Is there a problem?"
He eyed Bradley in his scrubs and said, "Your clinic has the most ridiculous prices. I just want to pick up the cat and go."
"You can't have her!" you told him. 
He shook his head and turned to Bradley. "Are you going to let your employee talk to me like that? Go get the cat!"
"She can talk to you however she wants," Bradley mumbled. He must have seen the anger in your eyes, because he started to block the hallway leading back to the kennels. 
You didn't care what this man thought he was going to do, he wasn't leaving here with an animal. "I'm not going to send Ginger with you if your plan is to abandon her."
"Well I'm not going to pay for any more services!"
He was only motivated by money, which might just make this easier. "Then sign her away to the clinic and leave," you told him, already rummaging in your file cabinet for the form you needed. Unfortunately this kind of thing happened from time to time. 
You glanced at Bradley where he stood with his thick arms crossed over his chest, thankful he was here. You were shaking with anger as you handed the form and a pen to Ginger's owner. And as you watched him sign his name, Ginger became property of the clinic. 
"And now you can get the hell out of here!" you told him, and he looked completely outraged. "You're abusive, and we will not allow you back for any of our services in the future." He was turning toward the door as you raised your voice. "And I hope your new kitten runs away and finds an owner who doesn't suck!"
He slammed the door behind him, and Bradley rushed over to you. "Are you okay? That was wild."
But all of the anger was gone now, and you just smiled up at him. "Wanna meet my new cat in the daylight?" you asked. 
"Yeah, I do," he said, and you kissed his rough cheek. 
You and Bradley sat on the floor in front of the open kennel door, holding hands. Inside the large cage, Sunshine was sitting next to Ginger as she ate her breakfast. 
"She's pretty. I couldn't tell what she looked like last night," Bradley murmured, reaching in and stroking her behind the ears. 
"I'll get her leg reset today, and I'll pay for her medical bills. Hopefully I can take her home with me in a few days."
Bradley cleared his throat. "I guess I should leave before your boss gets here?" 
"Yeah." But you really didn't want him to.
He nodded toward Sunshine and Ginger. "Looks like he made a new friend. If I can't get your number for me to use, you have to give it to me so we can set up a cat playdate. For Sunshine?"
You couldn't help laughing at his antics and the cute pout on his face.
"You can have my number for you. And Sunshine can have my number to reach Ginger. And if the offer still stands, I'd love to meet you at that bar later."
Bradley's face lit up as he got his phone out and handed it to you. "Sounds great. I'll text you the address." You entered your name and number and handed it back to him.
"I'll meet you there," you promised.
"I can't wait," he replied, but you were already kissing him. 
"You need to go," you whispered a second later. 
He pressed his lips to yours one more time before he reached in to get Sunshine. "I know, you don't want to leave Ginger. But I secured you a playdate," he told the cat. "Oh, how much do I owe you for fixing his leg?"
"Nothing," you said as you stood with your new cat in your arms, and Bradley followed you out to your desk. 
"That hardly seems fair," he replied, grabbing his khaki uniform from your chair. 
You just shrugged, setting Ginger down gently on your desk. "I did it off the clock anyway. Don't worry about it. You can buy me a drink later."
Bradley grinned at you. "I'll buy all of your drinks. And when we go out to dinner tomorrow night, I'll pay for that, too. Same as the movie I'm taking you to next weekend. Oh, and all of the concerts and museums we're going to visit together? I'm paying."
You giggled. "That actually sounds kind of perfect."
"You only like me because I'm a pet owner," he whispered, kissing you softly. 
You kissed him harder and ran your fingers through his hair one last time. "It certainly didn't hurt your cause. I'll meet you at the bar."
He nipped your lips one last time, and then held Sunshine up closer to his face as he headed for the door. "I owe you one. You want tuna for dinner? I'll feed you tuna every day."
You watched him walk outside and pull out of the parking lot, and then you plugged your phone in to check your messages.
You already had one from Bradley with the address for the Hard Deck. Then another one came through that said Thanks for one of the best nights of my life.
"I hope you liked Sunshine," you told Ginger. "Because I really like his dad."
-----------------------
Thanks for reading this one! Hope you liked it @morallydiseased! And thanks for your help @thedroneranger!
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nottswitch · 5 months
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london boy
am I in my lover era? probably, but am I ashamed? no, not really. but just a warning, I won't even try to commit to posting this often. literally just a burst of inspiration (and taylor swift).
london boy by taylor swift as inspiration sirius x muggle!reader warning: prolly nothing, it's just fluff wc: 2,2k
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From your very childhood up to your late teens your parents really liked bringing you to London with them from time to time. It was a truly beautiful city to be a tourist in. You’d been there so often that you felt like some sort of an expert. You could recite the history of any major landmark, just point at, say, the Tower, and one could hear a whole lecture from you about the fortress, the prison, the ravens, all the good stuff. You got cocky at times, thinking you could easily become a tour guide. Your friends back in your hometown rolled their eyes every time you even mentioned London, and the level of your excitement grew every single day throughout the month before you finally moved there.
Turned out, London wasn’t so great to live in. At least that’s what you thought on your first day, when you paid thrice the price you expected to pay for the cab taking you from the airport to the hotel. Then, the hunt for a rental began. The hotel started to get expensive day by day and soon enough you really lost your spirits. You didn’t have enough money to pay for a room and a real estate agent, so you resorted to looking through tons and tons of newspapers, hoping that an advertisement of a one-bedroom would at some point catch your eye. It wasn’t working as well as you expected, so one gloomy rainy afternoon you found yourself just walking through a random neighbourhood looking at houses and thinking that cooking some hot soup on your own stove sounded really nice at the moment. You realized that your exterior was pretty miserable for someone who couldn’t hold in an excited shriek right after buying a ticket to London last month. As if to confirm your assumptions, a sudden laughter disrupted the cacophony of raindrops hitting the ground and wind howling between the branches of nearby trees.
Oh, god.
“You aren’t from ‘round here, right?”
A motorcycle rolled from behind you along the roadway. You continued on your way, thinking it was just some creep who noticed your vulnerable state and decided to, well, be a creep.
“Hey, hey, ma’am, you don’t have an umbrella and I do. Pretty sure I win.”
“Ma’am? Really?”
You stopped at last to see who had the audacity to just ride up to you like you were their longtime friend.
“Bet that’s what you think us Brits talk like, foreign girl.”
The rider took off his helmet and you saw what was probably the best sight you had a pleasure to witness in the entirety of London. The young man was truly divine: his dark hair barely reached his shoulders and was a bit messy from the helmet; he had a stubble that was too short to be called a beard yet, but it was getting there; when he smiled, you could see small dimples forming on his cheeks. You felt stupid staring at him like that but couldn’t help it at all. With his stunning looks, the obvious accent you immediately took notice of sounded even more charming.
“Alright, not a talker, I see.”
The man stood up from his vehicle, pulled out a kickstand so that it wouldn’t just roll down the street and walked up to you, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket to shield his face from the rain.
“You said you had an umbrella.”
Kind of stupid of you to say, but you couldn’t really make up anything else that wouldn’t give out your infatuation.
“Just like that, huh? Could at least ask my name, you know.”
He didn’t wait for your response, holding his hand out to you.
“Sirius.”
You shook his hand, although yours was already pretty numb from the cold, and introduced yourself as well. You had to say something at that point because you started to look weirder and weirder by the second.
“That’s… an interesting name.”
Oh, come on. This is all you have?
“Bit rude, darling. What did you think it was?”
“Like… Matthew?”
The man laughed, just like you heard him laughing minutes ago. He wasn’t taunting you, no, on the contrary – he was rather amused by your mild naivety.
“Oh shit, do I look like a Matthew? I’m gutted, I have to say.”
You couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The rain didn’t feel so bad anymore, now that you had someone to share it with.
“Hop on. I have to get you to a pub, or else you’ll turn into a bloody icicle.”
He helped you get on his bike and soon you were riding straight through the streets of London with your hands wrapped around Sirius’ body. You felt it was a wee bit inappropriate for someone you met, like, five minutes ago, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. What is more, you expected raindrops to become some small annoying mosquitoes who would relentlessly bite your face during the ride but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. It almost felt like you actually had an invisible umbrella above you, because you glanced at a sleeve of your coat and it had become much drier than it was before.
The pub Sirius took you to looked like one of those places you saw on TV when the setting was supposed to be the UK. Lots of wooden furniture around, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and emitting warm and rather dim light. In the corner you saw an old record player with a small TV on top of it. You saw it as a symbol of modernity overtaking the old school, which epitomized London itself, but decided not to voice your thoughts in order not to appear as a nerd.
“Fancy a beer?” Sirius asked, leading you to a large counter.
In your mind you would much prefer some tea to warm yourself up, but the stranger was already too kind for you to make any extra demands of him. So, you just nodded and let him have free reign over the type of beer for you.
“We come here with my mates sometimes,” Sirius explained, having made an order while you made yourself comfortable on a bar stool.
“That’s nice.” You felt a bit awkward and out of place, but Sirius didn’t seem like the shady type, so you felt more comfortable with him than you would have likely felt with anyone else. “Do you watch rugby here?” You gestured towards the TV.
 “I mean, if it’s on…” Sirius tried but failed to hide a chuckle. “That’s what the rest of the world thinks of us English lads, huh? That we hang at pubs and watch rugby all day?”
“To be fair, you took me to a pub.” You felt slightly embarrassed but attempted not to show it.
“That much’s true.”
You took a small sip out of a glass mug of beer placed in front of you. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest – a bit too bitter for your personal taste, but you could see yourself finishing the whole thing.
“Is this a British thing, beer in the afternoon?” you asked, looking at a huge grandfather clock behind the bar and remembering that it was, in fact, only midday.
“I guess, but I’ve always thought of it as a me thing.”
You held your mug in front of your face so that Sirius wouldn’t notice a huge smile forming on your face. You found everything about him irresistibly attractive – his voice, his mannerisms, his whole presence was alluring in a very authentic kind of way. It was obvious that in front of you he wasn’t pretending, he was just being himself.
“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” You finally had the courage to ask the question that had been pestering you for a while.
“Oh, it’s obvious,” Sirius replied, taking a swig of his beer. “You can always tell, it’s just how us Londoners are wired.”
You couldn’t really retort.
“Are you on holiday, or…?” Sirius went silent, letting you fill in the gap.
“I moved here a week ago,” you explained, feeling a very annoyed expression taking over your face. “Been trying to find an apartment but no luck so far.”
Sirius frowned a bit, thinking about something.
“I reckon I could help you, darling,” he finally told you with a playful smirk on his face. “I’d have to ask you for something in return though.”
“Oh, sure, I’ll pay!”
And you were ready to, because you had heard from someone that word of mouth was actually the best way to find an apartment on a budget these days. It’s just that you didn’t have this mouth before.
Sirius just grinned in response.
“Hey, that’s on me.”
He stopped your hand as it was reaching into your purse to take out your wallet and pay for your beer.
“Really?”
“Well, I dragged you here, so it’s only fair.”
Afterwards you stepped out of the pub to see daylight again. Fortunately, you discovered that it stopped raining and the sky was of a much lighter gray than before. Sirius caught up to you and stretched out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder. You didn’t mind at all but were still quite stunned because, well, a teenager in you woke up and started internally screaming from this handsome stranger’s closeness.
“A nice weather we have here, darling. Which is super convenient as I don’t prefer driving drunk.”
Sirius looked like someone who would gladly drive drunk, you thought, but instead simply asked about the bike.
“A friend will take it,” he gave you a rather nonchalant reply, already headed somewhere to your left, with your hand now in his. “Come on, London doesn’t wait.”
“What if I have plans?” you tried to retort but your feet still carried you after Sirius and you weren’t going to stop them.
“Really? You just moved here, can’t find a flat and you have plans? Don’t believe it.” Sirius didn’t leave any room for objections as he was absolutely right. “Come o-o-on, darling, I know you want it.”
And for god’s sake, you did.
“So… Is this the part of the day when we say goodbye?”
All of a sudden you felt a wave of sadness coming over you. This day turned out to be truly magical and the last thing you wished for was for it to end. Sirius showed you everything, and you meant everything. He had his ways around the city that you would never even think to take, but they worked wonders, almost like some kind of portals transporting you from one place to another (but of course, it was just Sirius). Soon you could take pride in having explored pretty much all the central boroughs from inside and out. You, once again, had a very tourist-y experience of eating fish and chips in Hyde Park, and Sirius showed you an amazing little Chinese place where you promptly had dinner. You couldn’t have been thankful enough when he told you he would take it upon himself to look for an apartment – sorry, a flat – for you, but when you tried to give him some cash, he adamantly refused, so you were left wondering what he meant when he said he would ask for something in return. But most of all, you couldn’t really understand why he would do anything for you at all.
“I guess it is…” you mumbled, wishing with your whole heart you were wrong. But it was late, the sun hid behind the horizon hours ago and your eyes became increasingly more and more itchy.
“Well, we’re meeting tomorrow, so… Not so bad, huh?”
Sirius didn’t seem tired in the slightest, so you decided to just fire away and ask the question that had been swirling in your mind for the whole day.
“Why are you doing all this?”
“What do you mean?” Sirius raised his eyebrow and, judging by the look on his face, thought you were making a joke.
“I mean, you saw me on the street and just… took me under your wing, I guess. I wouldn’t have all this experience without you, London boy. And this apartment thing… It’s too generous. You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to.” Sirius had the widest smile on his face. It was captivating and you didn’t even notice how you started smiling yourself. “But I want to, that’s it, darling. I really, really want to.”
His hands kept yours warm while he spoke. You had a sudden urge to do something you might or might not have regretted in the future. You stepped closer to Sirius, getting up on your toes and pecking his cheek ever so slightly, as if you were afraid to scare him away. Then you leaned away, staring at his face with worry in your eyes. Sirius slowly ran his fingers along his skin, where your lips just were, like he couldn’t believe what happened. Then, much to your surprise, he got closer and before you could realize it, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, but the pleasure they brought you couldn’t have possibly belonged on planet Earth.
“I fancy you, foreign girl.”
Sirius pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was so tender that you understood that from now on, London wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.
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noxturnalpascal · 4 months
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Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 9)
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CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
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III. Path to the Future
CH 9 (6k) “She left.”
The words ring in his ears, drowning out the cacophony of multiple things happening all at once. He’s trying to throw a jacket and shoes on while Tess is grabbing at him and begging him to wait until first light. He’s grabbing at Danny and demanding to know everything while Diego wails, apologizing that they didn’t look after you enough. The noise brings the other women downstairs and they all shout over each other, some arguing Joel should wait for a search party to be formed and some saying they’ll go with him and should leave right now. 
In the end, Joel acquiesces to Tess, not wanting to ignore her heartfelt pleading after the hours they just spent commiserating together. He waits until first light to leave with Danny, Diego, and Sasha in tow. He orders Danny and Diego to ride their mounts to the east and west, climbing opposite peaks on either side of the valley to look for any sign of you. He sends Sasha north along the valley to look for the same and orders everyone to send up smoke signals if they see anything and to meet back at the house no later than sundown. But he knows all of those efforts will be fruitless.
He already knows that you wouldn’t bother coming back through the town when your goal was clearly to get as far away from him as possible. You would have left the farm and continued south, which is the direction he goes. As Sasha stuffs snacks and canteens in everyone’s packs before they split up, she repeats Joel’s words back to him several times, meet back here by sundown, but by the look on her face she already knows what he does, that he won’t be back until he’s found you.
---
Joel watched for smoke signals behind him all day until the sun began to sink below the treeline, making it impossible for him to see anything short of flares, which he knew they didn’t have. He figured he’d be the first one to see signs of you anyways, which he did eventually. The next town south in the valley was about a four hour walk and while he knew you’d probably never been through there, it was well picked over by his people and had been free of infected every time he’d been there.
He thought you’d be cautious and avoid the town, his hunch confirmed when he made his way up the gentle slope just north of the town and saw the footprints you’d left. The spring sun had melted the snow and left the ground muddy, and when you’d come through here late last night you most likely hadn’t even thought about covering your tracks. But now he knows he chose the right direction, and he pushes forward along the ridge, following the breadcrumbs you unknowingly left for him.
Joel follows your tracks along the river - just beside the interstate - noticing you keep to the treeline instead of traveling along the roadway, which has better footing but would leave you exposed. You also head east, which is the opposite direction of the bigger mountain range and also away from the state’s most populated city. You’re avoiding overexertion and big-cities. Maybe you do have some survival instincts after all.
He nearly loses your tracks mid-afternoon when you veer away from the river at another city but takes a gamble and catches signs of you again along the road leading towards the New Hampshire border. You’re not looking for populated areas here, there isn’t even any evidence you’ve stopped anywhere along the way. He assumes you’ve already got a destination in mind and are focused on heading there. 
Long after sunset Joel finally decides to find a place to lie down for a while. He lays there in the dark and tries not to think about how worried Tess must be since he never came back, or how you’re somewhere out here too - all alone in the cold darkness. He knows this is all his fuckin’ fault. What a mess he’s made. He actually convinced himself that he was helping people, that he was saving them. He let himself believe them when they told him what a good man he was, a protector and a provider. 
He falls into a fitful sleep and when he awakes a short time later he decides to forgo any further attempts at rest and continue on your trail. He hopes you spent more time with your eyes closed than he did and he can make up some ground on the head start you got. He follows your winding trail along the woods’ edge, through overgrown fields, around a quarry, and over creeks, all avoiding any majorly populated areas. 
The only time you leave yourself exposed is through an hours-long stretch going through a wooded valley, where walking the roadway is your solitary option to avoid climbing up and down the rocky hills on either side of the pavement. By his calculations you probably traveled this section last night while he attempted sleep, which would have made your trek along the road a more protected position than he is currently in, trudging though the early morning hours and into the rising sun. 
He hikes on through the morning, thinking over and over in his head what he’ll say to you when he finds you, and eats the last of his packed food around noon. He knows he can refill his canteen in the river just ahead, which creates the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. He also knows there’s a major city if he continues on his path and knows that’s the reason your tracks start to head south into what his map tells him is a wide forest. 
This might be good he thinks, since he’s been hiking for nearly 30 hours and only slept a handful of them. He knows he could use a shady and secure place to take a nap. He waits until he’s about an hour’s hike from the last farm he passed before he walks off the trail to find somewhere to rest. Keeping the road just in sight, he walks straight through the woods and over a brook, finding a soft collection of last autumn's fallen leaves on which to rest his head. With the bird songs in his ear and the soft rustle of trees above him, sleep quickly overtakes him.
He jolts awake, a sound skimming his senses and alerting him to danger. He lies there, statue-still, and tries to listen past the woosh of the pumping blood in his ears, taking deep breaths to slow his thumping heartbeat. It’s dark here in the thick trees and the sun is low in the sky. He must have slept most of the afternoon away but he can tell it’s not evening yet. Suddenly Joel realizes it’s not a sound that woke him but the lack of sound. There are no birds singing, no insects buzzing, just the eerie sound of the branches creaking and the new spring leaves dancing on their boughs. 
He slowly sits up - weapon in hand and his head on a swivel - trying to listen for the clues that nature around him has already picked up on. A predator is nearby. Infected wouldn’t be this quiet, they’re mindless and insatiable and only care about one thing. This is either a large animal or a human. He actually finds himself hoping to catch sight of a black bear as opposed to the alternative.
Before he can get up from his sleeping position he hears quick footsteps behind him and a blunt crack to the back of his head, the pain radiating across his skull. He slumps forward and groans in pain, his hands loosening around his gun. He hears footsteps move around the front of him and feels his rifle being snatched out of his slackened grasp. A foot kicks at his torso and he groans again.
“He’s not out, you gotta hit him again,” he hears you say above him. 
No, it can’t be you. There’s no way.
“I’m not getting near him again, you said he was dangerous,” he hears a male voice behind him say. 
You’re goddamn right he’s dangerous, and as soon as his head stops pounding he’s going to-
A second thump, this time on the side of his head, is the last thing he feels before everything goes black. 
---
Joel doesn’t gain consciousness quickly, like coming up for air after being underwater. Instead it comes back in waves, just a few words here and there, a musty smell, the familiar sound of your voice, the beam of a flashlight hitting his eyelids. He’s trying to make sense of it but it’s all jumbled up and he’s not sure how to put the pieces together. He tries to sort out his thoughts bit by bit, every time he’s conscious he tries to figure one thing out and hold it in his mind, to remember it before he passes out again.
He knows he’s in a chair, he can hear murmured echos so he imagines the room is large, but the soft sounds of crickets outside tell him there's at least one window nearby. He knows he’s tied up, he can feel bindings wrapped around him and his arms are pinned behind his back. He knows he’s been relieved of his guns, the usual weights at his hip and ankle not present. When he’s finally able to stay awake for long enough to string a coherent thought together, he decides to open one eye for a peek at his surroundings.
He’s in a very large and long room - wooden tables and chairs scattered around - creating a maze of objects between him and five figures standing on the opposite end of the room. It’s dark - he’s been out for a while - and he can’t make out their faces or their conversations but he can see that two are tall and three are shorter. He thinks at least one of them is a woman. Could it be you? He thought he’d heard your voice.
Unable to hear any actual words amidst the murmur of conversation, Joel looks around again, trying not to move his head so he still appears unconscious. Divided windows line both sides of the building, moonlight pouring in from what he imagines is the south side and reflecting off the stark white rafters above him. He takes in the amount of chairs and tables in front of him and although he can’t turn his head, he would wager money there’s a kitchen behind him. If he had to guess where he was he’d say this was probably an old summer camp’s dining hall, the craftsman style construction pointing to a mid-century build.
He hears shuffling and sees two of the figures crossing the room towards him so he shuts his eyes and pretends to be unconscious again. Around tables and chairs he hears their soft footsteps, he’s still out muttered by a deep, gruff voice. He hears the footsteps stop just in front of him and feels a couple pokes to his chest. He does his best to play possum until he hears your voice - definitely your voice - shouting from across the room.
“You better make sure you double check him for weapons.”
“You already told us that three fuckin’ times,” a nasally voice with a southern twang shouts back.
A different, deeper voice says to quit hollerin’, then there’s a short back and forth between the two men in front of him filled with curse words while he hears stomping feet making their way over from the other side of the room. He hears your voice again but this time all three of you are cussing in hissed whispers, the most prominent phrase being fuck you, and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts his head up and stares right into your eyes.
“Oh fuck,” a tall asshole with the deep voice says, raising a pistol in front of him aimed right at Joel’s face.
“I told you,” you say.
Even in the dark Joel can see purple bruising around your left eye and a split in your lip, still oozing wetness. That’s a fresh wound.
“Shut up, whore,” a nasally twat that might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet barks at you.
Okay, Joel thinks, he’s gonna snap this rude twig in half first for talking to you like that. Did he give you those marks on your face?
“Quit fuckin’ callin’ her that,” the tall one elbows the twig and then pulls you into his grasp.
He watches you break eye contact with him as you wrap your arms around the giant’s middle - seriously, this guy must be nearly seven feet tall - burying your face in the center of his torso. He hears your muffled voice say I told you he’d come for me into his dirty sweatshirt as his free hand moves down your side and squeezes your hip. Change of plans. The big fucker dies first.
The other two people make their way across the room as String Bean grabs a knife off his hip, which Joel recognizes as the knife he put on his own hip when he left the house yesterday morning. He watches this idiot flick it around in front of him like some kind of hillbilly ninja, the knife glinting in the moonlight. It’s pathetic but it’s the only thing keeping him from boring holes into the back of your head as you remain clutched to that big oaf like a goddamn koala bear. He subtly tests the ropes used to tie him to the chair.
The two that join the group are a chubby guy maybe five and half feet tall, and a girl just a bit shorter than him, both of whom look to be teenagers. The tall one tucks the gun into his waistband and they all engage in a terrible exercise of whispering, pointing back and forth. Joel knows he’s half-deaf in one ear but they know they’re talking about him right in front of him, right? From what he can surmise, the two younger ones are a couple, and the girl’s big brother is the tall guy you’re climbing like a tree. He’s not sure how the scrawny one fits into the equation or how you got mixed up in this. Do you know these people?
“So are we gonna get rid of him, or what?” Skinny asks.
“That’s not part of the plan,” you snap, pointing your finger in his face.
Joel watches him slap your finger away and then get pushed by the big guy before all of you devolve into loud whispers again, cursing and hissing. This is getting very old very quickly. He tests the ropes again, flexing his arms and chest against them. He’s tied pretty tight with more than one length of rope. Jesus, what did you tell them, that he was Houdini? The bickering still hasn’t stopped so Joel clears his throat and the noise finally ceases, everyone turning to stare at him. Except you. You won’t meet his eyes. 
Just like old times.
“You ready to get the fuck outta here, baby?” he says, looking right at you.
He watches everyone else’s face swivel to look at you. You tilt your head slightly and meet his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole,” you twist your last word like a knife into his gut.
He watches Big Guy snake his arms around your middle from behind, drawing you back to his chest. Who the fuck does this jerkoff think he is putting his hands on you? And why don’t you seem to mind? Skinny points at Joel and starts to get mouthy but Big Guy lets you go and drags Skinny and Chubby away from the group and behind Joel, leaving you and the girl alone in front of him. He figures this is as good an opportunity as ever.
“PJ, I’m sorry-”
“Fuckin’ save it, Joel,” you hiss.
“Seriously though, what are we gonna do now?” Girl asks you, side-eyeing him.
“What do you mean? This doesn’t change the plan at all,” you say with confidence.
“You said he’d kill us,” Girl whispers loudly.
He watches your face as you pull her away from him but you don’t look back to meet his eyes. Your face is passive, giving nothing away. You told these people he would kill them? Why would you say that? You’ve never seen him kill anyone. You’ve probably never even heard about the terrible things he’s done. Of course he’s killed people, but so has everyone. He thinks you might have even had to do your fair share to survive. But why would you tell these people he’s a killer?
All three boys come around from behind Joel, Skinny stomping around with a large folded up paper in his hand. He shoves it in Joel’s face and points to it forcefully. 
“Show us where you came from,” Skinny says.
Joel sees the paper is the map of the state of Vermont he’d been traveling with. Luckily nothing on it is marked, so there’s no indication where the Valley might be.
“He’s not gonna-” you start.
“Slut,” Skinny snarls. “You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up.”
“No she’s right,” Joel says, drawing Skinny’s attention back to him. “I’m not gonna tell you shit.”
Skinny opens his mouth to protest but you speak first.
“I told you I know how to get there, we don’t need a map,” you sigh.
“I don’t fuckin’ trust you!” Skinny whines, turning around to throw a mock punch in your face. You wince.
“You need to calm down,” Big Guy hums at his rageful companion, pulling you towards him again and away from Skinny’s reach. “She told us she’d get us there and it’s in her best interest not to fuck us over.”
Joel doesn’t miss the way Big Guy’s hand tightens around your arm when he says it’s in your best interest to cooperate. 
“We been on the road for nearly two fuckin’ weeks and I’m gonna be real fuckin’ pissed if this little whore is jerkin’ us around,” Skinny hisses.
“I’m not,” you say, looking up at Big Guy.
“I hope not, ‘cause we’re really hungry,” Girl says.
“Yeah,” Chubby agrees.
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Skinny snaps, pointing a crooked finger in the girl’s face. “You ate your weight in pickles this morning. Besides, your fat ass could go another week without food.”
This time Big Guy has had enough. He yanks you to his left by your arm and steps towards Skinny, right arm pulled back and threatening a punch. Skinny jumps back, arms in front protecting his face and starts muttering apologies, saying he was just kidding, avoiding the punch Joel isn’t sure Big Guy even intended to throw. Maybe he’s more bark than he is bite. However, he thinks Skinny is exactly as much bite as he seems to be, no impulse control and a violent streak, and most likely the one who gave you those bruises. Joel can’t wait to kill these idiots and save you from them, then bring you back home where you belong.
“It’s late and it’s been a long day, we all need some rest if we’re gonna make the long trek tomorrow,” Big Guy says.
Joel thinks that it seems like Big Guy is the brains of this little operation, watching as he orders the young couple to sleep on the opposite side of the room where they can guard the doors. He tells Skinny to take first watch of Joel - who he refers to as the old guy - and then mumbles something to you about keeping you close before dragging you back into the kitchen behind Joel’s back.
---
It’s a muffled sound Joel hears at first but he’d know it anywhere, your soft sighs. He never thought when he heard you making those sounds again that he’d be so fucking pissed off. What is that fucker doing to you? He tests the ropes a third time, wishing he could reach into the back of his pants where he keeps a second knife tucked away, a small one clipped to his boxers for emergencies. Emergencies like this. 
Skinny sits in a chair just across from Joel, about five feet away, watching him with a shit-eating grin on his face. If this idiot closes his eyes for a few minutes Joel thinks he can try and go for his knife. He’d be able to cut his bindings and start eliminating these morons one-by-one. But Skinny hasn’t closed his eyes. And you’re behind him with Big Guy right now, making gentle moaning noises. He needs to get free now.
“Ya hear that?” Skinny asks, smiling. Joel doesn’t answer. “He’s gonna dick your girl down real good.” 
Joel feels his face heat, his ears burning while he clenches his teeth to avoid letting go of the growl that wants to escape his throat.
“She told us all about you, ya know?” Skinny sneers.
“Oh, did she?” Joel scoffs.
“She sure did,” He whistles. “She sang quite the song. Said you have the biggest stockpile of shit she’s ever seen, and you have all these fuckin’ people doin’ your bidding.”
Joel tries not to let surprise paint his features. You little shit. You told this jerkoff about the town, about all the food and supplies, about him and his flock? What did he do to you to make you confess all that? It’s fine, he’ll just play dumb, convince him you lied.
“That sounds pretty nice,” Joel muses, nodding his head slowly.
“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Skinny laughs.
“Almost sounds too good to be true.”
“Does it?”
“Come on kid, it’s been ten years since the fuckin’ world ended,” Joel drawls, a smile on his face. “No one is livin’ like that. We’re all just scrounging for our next meal.”
“Yeah… she said you’d say that.”
“One thing you should know about her?” Joel’s smile disappears. “She’s a lying little bitch.”
“Well she’s certainly a bitch,” Skinny huffs. “...’cept I’m starting to think maybe she ain’t lyin’. She told us you’d follow her, and you did.”
“Oh? What else did she say?”
“She told us you’d have a hidden gun on your ankle, and you did.”
“Interesting,” Joel hums, the reminder that they took all his guns creating a renewed anger at his current situation.
“And she told us you’d lie your ass off to keep us from raiding your shit,” Skinny laughs. “And here you are, tryin’ to lie to me.”
“I thought you didn’t trust her,” Joel mocks.
“I trust you even less, old man.”
Joel settles back in his chair, flexing to test the bindings again as he hears wet noises coming from behind him. He hears a low grunting, what he assumes to be that tall fucker getting off with his fucking woman. He lets the growl rumble in his chest now, hoping it’ll drown out the sounds behind him and quell his murderous rage. Skinny makes a grating noise that could be a laugh. Joel stares at a dark knot in the hardwood floor and imagines wrapping his hands around Skinny’s stick neck.
“Sounds like yer girl isn’t yer girl anymore, don’t it?”
---
12 hours earlier…
You knew that you’d been hiking for over a day, although there was no real way for you to keep time. You left the farm at sunset and now the sun was rising on your second day. You tried to do a lot of your walking at night, pushing aside the childlike notion that the dark was scary while also trying to ignore the very real threat of actual monsters. Scary as it was, you knew that logically, you would at least hear clickers coming. It's more dangerous to be quietly stalked if seen by humans in the daylight. Still, you kept to the trees for most of your trek and even climbed one for a quick nap the first afternoon.
You weren’t sure if anyone was after you but figured there was a pretty good chance Joel would send out a search party once he heard, so keeping a steady pace and stopping as infrequently as possible were your main priorities. You thought you would outsmart him by heading away from the populated areas or outrun him by walking almost non-stop until you hit the ocean. You didn’t risk stealing a map from Hank’s shelves but you stared at it for long enough to memorize the route numbers you’d need to take, even making up a song to fit them into so they’d stick in your mind.
So now you were just next to Highway ninety one, which - according to your rhyming song - takes you south to Lebanon. You spot the sun shining off ripples of water through a brief clearing in the trees and decide to fill your canteen away from the more exposed river, heading to what ends up being a serene lake surrounded by a thick forest. It’s gorgeous here. The sun is shining and keeping you warmer than the crisp spring air would otherwise allow. The landscape glows green, finally coming back to life after a long winter. 
This place reminds you of the lake you’d swam in during the summer camp you went to five years in a row as a child. Grab a swimming buddy, plug your nose, and jump in. God, you were fearless in those days. It's too cold to swim now but you wouldn’t anyways, not all by yourself. You walk the perimeter until you find a dock that will take you far enough away from shore to get some clear water without vegetation mixed in. Not that eating a little grass would kill you, but you’d prefer your water to just be water and not a salad. 
God, you could go for a salad right now. Rosie made the best salads with a homemade vinaigrette that rivaled any dressing you’d had before the world ended. Why were you thinking of that now, of Joel’s house? You shouldn’t be thinking of that. Or of him. Fuck him. You were far away from him now, having finally escaped. You were staring out over the gentle ripples of a beautiful lake on a peaceful morning all alone. Enjoy this moment, you earned it, you tell yourself. You stand up and twist the lid closed on your canteen, stuff it into your pack and turn around. 
Only you’re not alone. 
There is a man at the end of the dock blocking your path. 
Shit.
The fear starts to grip you, its icy tendrils shooting up your limbs and threatening to seize your rapidly beating heart in its grasp. No, you can’t freeze now, you have to keep your wits about you, you have to get yourself out of this situation. Making mental calculations as quickly as you can, you take off running down the old wooden dock, towards the shore, towards him. 
Surprised by your sudden movement, the man takes a couple steps forwards on the dock, planning to take up even more space on your path. A few more steps and you’re within spitting distance from him. You see his arms come out in front of him to grab you. You quickly turn and leap off the dock, landing in the shallow water by the shore several feet away. You use your paltry headstart to your advantage and take off running along the shore.
You turn your head to look back and you see him, stumbling over his own long legs, having tripped and fallen into the shallow water. Relief bubbles up inside you like a percolating kettle, warming your insides and making you feel almost buoyant. You’re still looking backwards which is why you don’t see the six-foot-plus wall of man in front of you. Not until you smash into him and turn your head back, finding that his chest fills your entire field of vision. The pungent smell of his body odor stings your nose, nausea washing over you.
He twists you around so your back is to his chest and two anaconda arms wrap around your torso, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You see the other man coming closer, soaking wet but laughing his fuckin’ head off, a mouth half-full of crooked, rotting teeth. He’s more of a boy than a man, now that you can see him closer. Probably early 20’s and around six feet tall. With his clothes soaking wet you can see how skinny he is, hardly any meat on his lanky frame. A nasal twang comes out of his voice between sputters and chuckles.
“You- You thought you were real slick back there, didn’t ya, bitch?”
“She gave you the fuckin’ slip, Roy,” a deep voice huffs above your head. “She woulda gotten away if I wasn’t here.”
“Whatever,” Roy mutters. “Shut up.”
---
You were practically carried around the lake until you arrived at an old summer camp, a worn wooden sign calling “Aloha” to its campers. Pulled inside a small white building, you’re tied to a chair by Roy - still dripping wet - in what looks like a space once used for arts and crafts. You see the really tall smelly guy and two shorter kids - one boy and one girl - going through your backpack, pulling out the food you’d stolen from the Mansfield’s root cellar. They’ve already eaten half of a jar of pickles by the time the ropes are secured around you tightly.
Roy strips off his wet coat and joins the group, prying open a container of applesauce and greedily drinking it straight from the mouth of the jar. You hear the girl offer the tall guy a wrapped up parcel and she calls him Mike. You watch Mike open your package of homemade smoked jerky that you were saving for later on your trip and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He looks over at you, catching you watching them, and holds it up above everyone’s heads.
“Where’d you get this?” he asks.
“I found it,” you whisper, your voice hoarse due to your too-tight restraints.
You don’t even have time to process the fist that Roy throws at your face until after it lands. You feel his knuckles hit the edge of your left orbital bone and slide into your eyeball, sharp pain shooting around your skull and straight back through your eye. You cry out and tears spring to your eyes, pouring even harder out of your left eye, which you can’t open. Your chest tries to heave with sobs as you hiccup, struggling to take deep breaths against the bindings. You hear Roy’s piercing voice over you.
“...so stop lying if you don’t want another one,” he finishes, flecks of applesauce flying out of his mouth to hit your face.
“I- I ca-, I can’t-,” you feel a tightness in your chest and you worry you’re going to start panicking, the blinding pain and the reality of your current situation hitting you simultaneously. This is bad. You’re sputtering. “I c- can’t b- b- breathe.”
Roy completely ignores your tears and your pleading, tipping the applesauce jar to his face and drinking down more of it. 
Pain spreads across your chest like a white hot heat, quickly becoming all you can think about, even pushing the throbbing in your eye to the back of your mind. You continue to gasp and choke, breathlessly begging anyone who’ll listen, but unable to focus on any faces. It feels like your body is being crushed, like you’ve been buried alive, every breath you can’t take in fully is another bucket of dirt thrown on top of you. The bindings across your chest seem to get tighter and tighter, the ringing in your ears growing louder.
Finally relief is delivered when you realize the young girl is at your side, her hand on your shoulder and a knife in her hand. The pressure is gone. She’s cut the ropes away from you, leaving you to take the deep lungfuls of the air you need to calm yourself down.
She pats your shoulder to reassure you before Roy - realizing what she’s done - drops the jar of applesauce to the floor. Ignoring the shatter of the glass jar and the splatter of the rest of the applesauce all over the floor, Roy grabs her by her hair, causing her to yelp in pain. He begins to scream in her face, calling her every name in the book before a massive hand is pushing a pistol into his temple. The tall guy, Mike, shoves the gun so forcefully into Roy’s head that it pushes him to the side, away from the girl. He lets go of her and stumbles back a few feet.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on my fucking sister,” Mike says.
Sister? This is good. This is very good. If Mike is willing to protect his sister from Roy then he could be willing to protect you too. You watch the girl run to the third young man’s arms, his face still covered in baby fat. You watch as he kisses her cheeks, petting her hair and telling her everything is okay as tears spring from her eyes. Once Roy has calmed down Mike lowers the gun, uncocking the hammer, and looks to you. He raises his other hand, still holding the package of jerky.
“Where’d you get this?” he asks again.
You look around, surveying the faces of his companions, each of them looking at you expectantly. They look weary. They look hungry. Looking in Mike’s eyes last, you see his deep blue eyes under heavy lids looking at you. They look like kind eyes. His floppy haircut curls up at his ears, giving him a youthful appearance but you’d guess his age was close to thirty. He seems quiet. He seems safe. You hope you’re not fucking wrong about this one.
“I can take you there,” you squeak, sounding as meek as possible. “There’s a lot more where that came from. They’d let us stay as long as we wanted. We’d be safe there, well fed... I can help you.”
“He asked you where, cunt” Roy snaps as he moves forward, his rage restored.
“I know how to get there, it’s a day’s hike away from here. I can take-”
You feel a whoosh of air right before the crack of his bony palm hits your face. Unrestrained, you fly off the chair and land crumpled on the floor, barely catching yourself. Roy has slapped you. God, it fucking hurts. Roy steps up to you and bends over your folded frame, shouting obscenities down at you before he’s elbowed out of the way by Mike. He must have put down the jerky because he reaches out to you with both hands, practically picking you up off the floor like a child. Instinctively you grab onto his arms and once on your feet, wrap yourself around him, drawing your face into his chest. 
Ignoring the pungent smell wafting off him, you lick at the wetness on your face, salty tears and metallic blood. Blood? Fuck, your lip is throbbing. You touch your tongue to your lip and the source seems to be a split in your bottom lip. That fucker has hit you twice now. You wish he’d fucking choked on that applesauce he guzzled down like he owned it. You cling to Mike even after you’ve calmed down, raising your eyes to meet his, hoping your gamble pays off.
“If you help me, Mike, I can help you,” you whisper - just loud enough so only he can hear you.
His ocean eyes scan your face, no doubt looking for hints of deception. It’s hard to trust others in this world, you know that better than anyone. He looks for long enough that you hear Roy call out ‘what’s she sayin’?’ over his shoulder. He looks back at Roy, then over to his sister, and then back at you. He nods his head.
🖤
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I miss you Iris 💐 Thank you for helping with this series. Thank you so much to my bestie Bug for helping me edit this. ILYSM.
🚨GOING FORWARD I WILL NOT BE USING TAG LISTS - THEY DON'T EVEN WORK HALF THE TIME. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON NOTIFS FOR @nox-notifs AS I WILL POST *FIC UPDATES ONLY* THERE.🚨
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earthstellar · 2 years
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Here’s a timeline summary of all the known Eras of Cybertronian history from Transformers Prime!
It doesn’t contain a whole lot of detail, as this is just intended to be used as a general reference, but it’s nice to see how each era does overlap with the next; It flows in canon like an actual timeline of events, and doesn’t skip around as much as you might think! 
For example, Ratchet was online during the Age of Wrath, as it is noted in the Covenant of Primus that he treated one of the first Cybertronians to present to medical services with signs of Quintesson manipulation. We don’t know when he came online exactly, but he was definitely already alive and was mature enough to be practicing medicine during this time.
But Orion Pax states in one of the novels (I believe the first one?) that he never got to see the original colonial expansion space bridges in operation, which means he had to have come online sometime during the Age of Rust.
So Ratchet is a very old friend, indeed-- Given that he was already mature during the Age of Wrath, and we know that he was around before the development of Iacon as a fully realised city-state (he was one of the first students of Remedy and had to walk to Iacon from Vaporex, hinting that this was before roadways were constructed in most places if at all)-- 
--It is entirely possible that Ratchet was one of the early Cybertronian sparklings that came out of the Well and had to enter stasis during the Cataclysm, coming up from stasis shelter underground in what would be known as Vaporex, although his dialogue in the show regarding Predacons may somewhat challenge that theory. (I need to dig up the episode script to check!) 
Either way, holy shit, Ratchet is old. Quite literally possibly as old as “dinosaurs”; The dialogue in the show may not be as contradictory as it might seem, as we know that natural memory lapse to save processor space and file integrity is something that can occur in this continuity as well, if I recall correctly--
--So it’s very possible that Ratchet just doesn’t remember his sparkling days very well, or those memory files may have been prone to information creep which was established in IDW 1 and may have been a concept that was already floating around when the writers for TFP were working on building the lore for this series as well. 
Anyway, it’s 4 AM so I’m gonna go make some tea, LOL 
I hope this is helpful for some people out there! :) <3
edit: I’m a doofus and just realised I put my old username and not my current one as the image credit. sigh. in my defence I made this very, very early in the morning 
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sassenach77yle · 11 days
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||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 12 || LALLYBROCH ||
#83daysofoutlander☆
Broch Tuarach means “the north-facing tower.”
From the side of the mountain above, the broch that gave the small estate its name was no more than another mound of rocks, much like those that lay at the foot of the hills we had been traveling through. We came down through a narrow, rocky gap between two crags, leading the horse between boulders. Then the going was easier, the land sloping more gently down through the fields and scattered cottages, until at last we struck a small winding road that led to the house. It was larger than I had expected; a handsome three-story manor of harled white stone, windows outlined in the natural grey stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimneys, and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about it, like chicks about a hen. The old stone broch, situated on a small rise to the rear of the house, rose sixty feet above the ground, cone-topped like a witch’s hat, girdled with three rows of tiny arrow-slits. As we drew near, there was a sudden terrible racket from the direction of the outbuildings, and Donas shied and reared. No horseman, I promptly fell off, landing ignominiously in the dusty road. With an eye for the relative importance of things, Jamie leapt for the plunging horse’s bridle, leaving me to fend for myself. The dogs were almost upon me, baying and growling, by the time I found my feet. To my panicked eyes, there seemed to be at least a dozen of them, all with teeth bared and wicked. There was a shout from Jamie. “Bran! Luke! Sheas!” The dogs skidded to a halt within a few feet of me, confused. They milled, growling uncertainly, until he spoke again. “Sheas, mo maise! Stand, ye wee heathen!” They did, and the largest dog’s tail began gradually to wag, once, and then twice, questioningly. “Claire. Come take the horse. He’ll not let them close, and it’s me they want. Walk slowly; they’ll no harm ye.” He spoke casually, not to alarm either horse or dogs further. I was not so sanguine, but edged carefully toward him. Donas jerked his head and rolled his eyes as I took the bridle, but I was in no mood to put up with tantrums, and I yanked the rein firmly down and grabbed the headstall.
The thick velvet lips writhed back from his teeth, but I jerked harder. I put my face close to the big glaring golden eye and glared back. “Don’t try it!” I warned, “or you’ll end up as dogsmeat, and I won’t lift a hand to save you!” Jamie meanwhile was slowly walking toward the dogs, one hand held out fistlike toward them. What had seemed a large pack was only four dogs: a small brownish rat-terrier, two ruffed and spotted shepherds, and a huge black and tan monster that could have stood in for the Hound of the Baskervilles with no questions asked. This slavering creature stretched out a neck thicker than my waist and sniffed gently at the proffered knuckles. A tail like a ship’s cable beat back and forth with increasing fervor. Then it flung back its enormous head, baying with joy, and leaped on its master, knocking him flat in the road.
“‘In which Odysseus returns from the Trojan War and is recognized by his faithful hound,’ ”
I remarked to Donas, who snorted briefly, giving his opinion either of Homer, or of the undignified display of emotion going on in the roadway. Jamie, laughing, was ruffling the fur and pulling the ears of the dogs, who were all trying to lick his face at once. Finally he beat them back sufficiently to rise, keeping his feet with difficulty against their ecstatic demonstrations. “Well, someone’s glad to see me, at any rate,” he said, grinning, as he patted the beast’s head. “That’s Luke—” he pointed to the terrier, “and Elphin and Mars. Brothers, they are, and bonny sheep-dogs. And this,” he laid an affectionate hand on the enormous black head, which slobbered in appreciation, “is Bran.” “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, cautiously extending a knuckle to be sniffed. “What is he?” “A staghound.” He scratched the pricked ears, quoting“Thus Fingal chose his hounds:Eye like sloe, ear like leaf,Chest like horse, hough like sickleAnd the tail joint far from the head.” “If those are the qualifications, then you’re right,” I said, inspecting Bran. “If his tail joint were any further from his head, you could ride him.” “I used to, when I was small—not Bran, I don’t mean, but his grandfather, Nairn.” He gave the hound a final pat and straightened, gazing toward the house. He took the restive Donas’s bridle and turned him downhill. “In which Odysseus returns to his home, disguised as a beggar,…” he quoted in Greek, having picked up my earlier remark. “And now,” he said, straightening his collar with some grimness, “I suppose it’s time to go and deal with Penelope and her suitors.” When we reached the double doors, the dogs panting at our heels, Jamie hesitated.
“Should we knock?” I asked, a bit nervous. He looked at me in astonishment. “It’s my home,” he said, and pushed the door open.
26THE LAIRD’S RETURN ~ OUTLANDER
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lilacmingi · 5 months
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NOT SO BAD
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. Ageless blogs and blank blogs risk getting blocked
Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x human!fem reader
Word count: 2,825
Note: This imagine is from my Wattpad so there won’t be any extra parts or continuations
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Streetlights lined the damp roadway and sidewalk, casting hazy beams onto the pavement below. It was around 11:30 PM and you were heading home after a night out with friends as a way to wind down after a long week. You spent the late evening at a 24 hour karaoke bar where you sang (terribly) to all of your favorite songs and shared a few drinks with your small group of three; laughing and carrying on until your throats were raw from belting out lyrics for hours on end.
You reminisced on the new memories as you headed home for the evening, hoping to go out for karaoke again sometime soon. It was an ideal way to let loose have a good time.
Judging by the familiar buildings, you were nearing your apartment building, wanting nothing more than to shower and swap your fashionable, but mildly uncomfortable, attire for some loose pajamas.
A faint noise that sounded like a whimper reached your ears just as you were approaching a small alleyway. The noise was alarming and had sirens going off in your head. Someone was clearly in distress and with you being the only person walking the streets at this hour, you felt you should help.
You reached for your pepper spray, which you always carried with you, and cautiously approached the space between two buildings, peering around to corner to assess the situation before making any rash decisions.
A man with long, dark hair had a woman caged against the brick wall of one of the structures. It very much appeared that he was forcing himself on her.
Clutching your pepper spray in your hand and making sure your phone was in your back pocket, you stepped out into the opening of the alley.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
"Get away from her!" is what you wanted to say next, but your voice was stuck in your throat.
The man turned towards you, his appearance making every limb in your body go completely numb with fear. Blood dripped from his mouth, dribbling down his chin. The woman's neck was covered in the dark ruby liquid, her body limp in the man's arms.
You could only watch as she dropped to the ground unconscious, staring at her motionless form, horrified.
When your gaze met that of the man before you, you knew you were in danger. He smirked, showing off a set of sharp fangs as he licked away some of the blood smeared on and around his mouth. His irises were the same deep crimson hue as the bodily fluid that coated his lips, his sharp gaze feeling as if it was burning a hole in you.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing walking around alone so late at night?" He inquired, striding towards you.
You couldn't speak. The paralyzing fear coursing through your body had rendered you speechless.
"There's some dangerous people lurking this time of night. Don't you know?"
"D-Don't get any closer." You backed away, clutching the small can of pepper spray in your trembling hand.
He was standing directly in front of you in an instant, appearing at the speed of light. In the blink of an eye, he had you pinned against the brick wall just like the unconscious woman was moments earlier. You were now in her position. With your wrists bound by his hands, you were rendered immobile and completely helpless. The man's gaze trailed to the can clutched in your hand.
"That's real cute." He chuckled. "You think that little can of pepper spray is going to save you?"
His grip on your wrists tightened, causing you to drop your only means of defense to the concrete.
"You interrupted my meal, sweetheart." He uttered, his voice low and threatening.
He inhaled deeply, moving his face closer to your neck where he dragged the tip of his nose along your skin.
"Mmm." He hummed. "You smell much nicer than her. I hope you don't mind if I have a little taste."
"Please no."
"Shh." He placed his finger over your lips, silencing you.
You flinched at the feeling of his sharp fangs grazing your neck, yelping when his teeth pierced your skin. Tears welled up in your eyes from both the overwhelming pain and the fear that you were about to be killed.
The sound of him gulping down your blood was all you could hear, wondering how long it would take for him to stop.
His hands dropped to your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. He groaned against your neck, savoring the taste of you while he held on tighter, the blunt tips of his nails digging into your waist. At that point, you could feel yourself slipping away quickly. He was taking too much too fast and your body was becoming weak.
With your wrists no longer being pinned down, you tried to push the vampire off of you, but it was no use. Your head was starting to spin and your vision was gradually becoming blurrier. At this rate, you would pass out soon.
"S-stop." You whispered weakly, your tingling hands still trying to force him away.
After fighting to keep your heavy eyelids open, you admitted deafeat, giving in and letting unconsciousness take over. Just as your eyes closed, you felt the man retract his fangs, your body going limp in his arms.
The last thing you heard before passing out was a low curse from the man.
Whatever dream you were having slowly faded out as you came to consciousness, your body gradually beginning to wake up. Light hit your eyelids and the faint sounds of the outside reached your ears. You hummed softly, rolling over onto your side and tugging the sheets up higher over your shoulders.
Wait.
You didn't remember coming home, let alone going to bed. You opened your eyes and abruptly shot up into a sitting position. A sharp sting surged through your neck causing you to hiss in response, clenching your teeth together. Instinctively reaching up to where the burning was, you felt a piece of gauze taped to your neck.
Oh no.
You took in your surroundings, realizing fairly quickly that you weren't in your apartment. In fact, you didn't recognize the room.
Whose house were you in?
A distant, male voice coming from somewhere in the house reached your ears. He was shouting curse words and, judging by the sounds of objects hitting the floor, he was throwing things too.
Your heart began to race, recalling the voice from the night before.
Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you started to get up only for your knees to buckle. You were quick to catch yourself on the frame of the bed and pull yourself back onto the mattress. It was clear that you were far too weak to get out of there. Your eyes drifted over to the window, wondering how high up it was and if you might be able to drag yourself over to it.
Before you could try and come up with a solid escape plan, the door opened.
"You're awake." The man sounded relieved.
"Get away from me!" You demanded, trying to sound stern even though you were scooting back against the headboard to get away.
"Are you okay? Do you feel alright?"
"Don't come near me, you monster! You nearly killed me!"
His eyes widened and he stepped back as if your words physically hit him.
"Yeah." He chuckled dryly. "I am a monster."
For some reason you felt bad for calling him that. He was obviously the one who brought you back to his place, he bandaged the bite on your neck, and he came to check on you as soon as you woke up.
"Sorry." You murmured, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you're right."
You lifted your gaze. The man looked visibly distraught, shame and guilt painting his features.
"I almost killed you. I don't know what got into me last night. I never let my thirst get out of control. I already wasn't in my right mind and when you walked up, I got one whiff of your scent and it drove me to the edge. I went into a blind frenzy. I wasn't aware of what I was doing until it was almost too late. I know an apology doesn't fix it, but I'm so sorry."
"What happened to the girl?" You questioned after a brief moment of silence, hoping you wouldn't regret asking.
"She's okay. I healed her wound and wiped her memory. She won't remember anything that happened."
"But you didn't wipe my memory?"
He hesitated. "No."
"Why?"
"I don't really know. I saw your face and..." He trailed off, unable to really put it into words. "It was just something about you that made me decide not to erase your memory."
You must've had a perplexed expression because he turned away muttering, "I don't know. It's dumb."
"What's your name?" You asked him in an attempt to change the subject since he was obviously uncomfortable.
"Yoongi."
"I'm Y/n."
"Good to know." He smiled a little. "I'll go get you some water."
Your eyes followed him as he walked out of the room.
Well, he wasn't trying to kill you, so that was good. Maybe he really wasn't a bad guy.
He returned to the room almost as quickly as he left, handing you a glass of water. You thanked him and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry mouth and throat.
"You never answered me earlier. Are you okay?" Yoongi asked.
"I'm still pretty weak, but I guess I'm alright. I tried getting up, but my knees gave out."
Yoongi lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
You pressed your lips together and fiddled with the sheets.
"How is your neck?" He gestured to the gauze.
"Sore."
"Do you mind if I check it?"
He could see you were hesitant to accept. He didn't blame you for feeling that way.
"I won't hurt you. I promise."
After a moment of hesitation, you nodded.
He took a seat on the edge of the bed and brushed your hair back to assess the damage. You suppressed a shiver at his actions. Careful not to be too rough, he started to remove the medical tape that held the gauze in place. You winced a little, the skin still tender.
"It's pretty bad. I can heal it for you if you want."
"How?"
"Vampire saliva is pretty powerful."
Saliva?
"Do you want your neck to stop hurting?" Yoongi asked when you sat for too long without responding.
"Yes."
"Okay. Stay still."
He leaned in, the warm sensation of his tongue gliding up the side of your neck following seconds later. Heat spread across your cheeks at how intimate the situation seemed. A tingling sensation was felt on the wounded area just before Yoongi pulled away.
"There. All better."
You reached up and gingerly touched the place where the bite mark was, but you didn't feel it nor did it hurt anymore. You skin was completely smooth and free of any puncture marks.
"Thank you."
"It's the least I could do."
"Why didn't you do that while I was unconscious?" You asked out of curiosity.
"I still wasn't fully in my right mind when I brought you back here to patch you up. The wound was still fresh and I was afraid if I tried to heal you, I'd end up killing you instead. I didn't want to risk it."
"Ah." You nodded.
He stayed put on the edge of the bed while picking at his nails, hesitant to leave.
"You may have to stay another day. You know, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright."
"I think I'll be okay with that."
"You will?"
You gave a nod.
"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Do you need anything?"
"Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry."
"I'll get you whatever you're in the mood for. I'm not much of a cook, but if it's something that can be made at home, I'll try to make it."
"You don't need to do all that."
"Please." There was a hint of desperation in his tone. "It's the least I can do after what I did to you last night."
"You brought me back here, bandaged my wound, healed it, and you've apologized twice. You've done plenty."
He shook his head. "I won't feel better about this until you feel better."
"I didn't know vampires cared so much for their victims." You teased.
Yoongi chortled softly. "We're selective."
You cracked a smile, releasing a short laugh.
Yoongi's undead heart fluttered at how pretty you were when you smiled. He much preferred the happy and relaxed you as opposed to the one that was terrified of him. He was glad to no longer see that fear in your eyes.
"Oh." He realized you hadn't told him what you'd like to eat. If you were going to get your strength built back up, you needed nourishment. "What do you want to eat? Like I said, I'll do whatever. I'll attempt to cook it or I'll go pick it up."
You thought about it for a moment before giving Yoongi a response. The food you were craving needed to be picked up, but he didn't mind. In fact, he hurried off to go retrieve your meal almost as soon as you gave him an answer.
His eagerness was amusing. Vampires in stories and movies were always depicted as heartless creatures who had no remorse for the victims they killed. Yoongi wasn't like that. Guilt was written all over his face for the first few minutes he was in the room with you, and even when the atmosphere was less tense, he was still doing his best to make sure you were taken care of. He was so ready to make up for what he did last night that you were almost certain this wasn't a normal occurrence.
Yoongi returned home less than fifteen minutes after rushing out, your bag of food clutched in his hand.
Your face lit up when he walked into the bedroom and presented you with the bag. You gratefully took it, thanking him for going out to get it to which he merely shrugged.
"I'll let you eat your meal in peace." He turned to leave, walking towards the door.
"Wait."
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.
"I wouldn't mind the company."
Yoongi was surprised by the offer you extended. Though you didn't outrightly state that you wanted him to stay, it was very much implied.
He moved to sit at the end of the bed while you pulled your food out.
"So, do you always bring your victims home and take care of them?" You asked, opening up the takeout container.
"No. This is the first time."
"I must be special or something." You chuckled, taking a bite of food.
"You are."
You stopped chewing, glancing over at him.
"I brought you here because I couldn't bear to leave you in the alley. The thought of it made my stomach twist with guilt." He admitted.
"But you left the other girl."
"She was drunk, anyway. Since I wiped her memory she'll just think she blacked out from drinking too much."
Your nail picked at the edge of the styrofoam container, silently processing his words.
"I don't understand. Why did you bring me here? What was so special about me?"
"I... thought you were pretty." The last part was said under his breath, but he was close enough for you to hear.
Before you could respond, he started rambling.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure I've made you uncomfortable and after what happened last night, I'm certain you're not interested. Plus, you don't even know me."
"That can be changed though."
Yoongi met your gaze, his brows pulling together.
"We can start as friends and just get to know each other."
"Friends." He echoed, nodding. "Okay."
"Good. Why don't you start? Tell me a little about yourself."
Yoongi started by telling you some of his hobbies, easing in with a light subject before getting into the heavier stuff like when he was first turned and how difficult it was to navigate his new life. He even let you ask questions, openly answering all of them. In turn, you shared a little bit about your own life.
You still didn't know Yoongi, but what little you had heard about him made you see that he was a decent guy and someone you wanted to continue to get acquainted with.
You'd be staying with Yoongi for at least another day so he could make sure you fully recovered, but who knows? Maybe you'd decide to stay a little longer.
Jungkook ♱ Jimin ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin
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Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way
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deliciouskeys · 4 months
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Cozy Corner Domaystic Prompt #18: Snow Day
Maevlander, 2.5K, rated T. AO3 link.
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Jan 23 2016
“I just don’t really understand,” Homelander grumbles, pacing back and forth in front of the large glass wall in Maeve's apartment, periodically stopping and looking out the window.
“Which part don’t you understand,” Maeve asks wearily, not looking like she really wants an answer, still in pajamas, still lounging in bed vaping as she stares blankly at the TV screen mounted on the wall with the news on silent, the red ticker-tape at the bottom listing school and university closings in New York and New Jersey. “It’s a city-wide travel ban. Vought headquarters had to close for business today and tomorrow. I’m sure some people came in anyway.”
“I don’t remember New York City shutting down because of a little snow in recent years. Don’t we pride ourselves on infrastructure? Don’t tell me they can’t clear the roadways. And come on, Vought should be one of the last places to shut down because of a little weather!”
“John, it’s literally the weekend. And there’s like three feet of snow on the ground.”
“They said 29 inches.”
“Well however much it is, it’s enough for them to declare an emergency.”
Homelander leans his forehead against the glass staring down. “If it’s really so dangerous, why is Central Park full of people sledding?”
Maeve cocks her head. “You really don’t know what to do with yourself on a day off, huh.”
“Nooo...” Homelander drags out the word, trying to be patronizing but Maeve is unfazed. “I’m just saying. I could clear the roads in an hour all by myself if the mayor or governor thought to ask.”
“I’m sure you could.” Maeve rolls her eyes.
“What, you don’t think so? I could melt Manhattan in a fifteen minute flyby.”
“Yeah, people will be delighted to see you light every street on fire.”
“I wouldn’t be setting anything on fire.” Homelander sounds defensive and it makes Maeve smile.
“Nobody asked you to melt anything,” Maeve says, groaning. “Why can’t you just give things a rest and let people enjoy a snow day?”
“Because it’s dangerous! Ambulances can’t get through. Just because there’s a snow day you think people stop having heart attacks?”
“I never knew you were so concerned about people not being able to get to the hospital. Maybe you should go on runs for the hospitals yourself then. Airlift the people having heart attacks.”
Homelander makes a scoffing sound, still staring intently out the large wall-window, the poor people who dared to go sledding on a Saturday not knowing that they were being scrutinized and judged from 90 floors up and 10 blocks away.
“So saving people is beneath you, but standing there bitching about how few people came into work today isn’t? You can really tell you never got to experience a snow day in childhood, Mr. Grinch.” 
Homelander turns toward her sharply at the last part. Maeve wonders if she’s gone too far now that his gaze has been torn away from the rabble on the ground and directed at her. It's never a good idea to bring up his childhood. But he cracks a smile instead of getting angry at her bluntness and walks over to the bed, sweeping his cape off to the side before sitting down.
“Fine, Maeve, enlighten me. Tell me what makes snow days so fucking magical.” The sarcasm in his tone is off the charts, but his gloves are off and Maeve has learned to recognize that that’s a sign that he wants intimacy, no matter what he says or how it sounds. She cautiously slides her hand into his and she can see an endearing uncertainty and neediness flicker across his face, his expression settling into something softer.
“It’s nothing complicated. You’d wake up in the morning and pray for the robocall to your parents’ landline to tell them school was out. And if you were lucky enough to have a snow day, you had the entire day free to play in the snow.”
“Like, what, build snowmen?”
Maeve smiles at the defensiveness of his tone. He’s so intent on proving to her that he didn't miss out on anything important. 
“When you’re little, yeah. Snowball fights, snowmen, snowforts. When I was a bit older, my dad would take me skiing sometimes.”
“Is skiing fun?” Homelander asks, looking away from her and staring off into a corner of the room, but still holding her hand.
“Yeah. I haven’t done it in a while. But when I was seven, I got my own skis and everything. It’s cheap thrills for a kid, I suppose. You can speed up like all hell if you go down a steep enough slope."
“Would you like to go skiing?” Homelander asks, and despite some misgivings Maeve realizes that she would like to. She relents and says yes. Anything has to be better than being cooped up in the Tower having an argument in her apartment about why people have no work ethic.
Homelander seems to brighten right up when she asks to go. Maybe Maeve underestimates how lonely and lost he feels without a daily agenda, without a script telling him where to be and what to do for most of the day. She's saved him from unstructured time.
“You’re going in that?” Homelander asks, wrinkling his nose slightly at the civilian winter clothes she's changing into.
“You don’t really expect me to ski in my skimpy uniform, do you?”
Homelander shrugs. “I’m just going as I am.”
“Yeah, you won’t be the only douchebag on the slopes wearing spandex, so you might as well.” Maeve looks him over. “You don’t think you can leave the cape at home?”
Homelander gives her a look that says she must be crazy to suggest that.
He flies her in his arms all the way to New Hampshire, where there’s plenty of snow but no blizzard going on, and where the slopes turn out to be more crowded than either of them would probably like.
They have to rent skis of course. Maeve is about to pay for both of them but the employees frantically shake their heads, and assure her it's on the house and that it’s such an honor that she and Homelander have decided to grace their humble ski resort with their presence. Maeve is pretty sure they wouldn’t have recognized her had her partner in crime been wearing anything slightly less conspicuous than full regalia.
Homelander looks skeptical when he’s asked to try on ski boots. As if the boots he came in with are any less of a fashion faux pas, Maeve smiles to herself. The poor teenager helping them starts to visibly sweat when Homelander waves him off dismissively after he offers them helmets. The staff are starstruck and ask for selfies with the two heroes, and a picture of the two of them to hang up on the bulleting board. Homelander and Maeve indulge them for a few minutes before finally heading outside with skis and poles in hand.
“Why are these boots so awkward?” Homelander asks as he follows her out of the lodge and into the snow.
“Because they’re not for walking,” Maeve grumbles. Homelander watches and mimics her as she puts the skis on. She should be grateful that he’s humoring any of this at all. Even if she’s wondering whether she’d enjoy this outing a lot more alone, there is something entertaining about seeing Homelander navigating mundane everyday life with none of his usual self-assurance.
She leads him to the ski lift, the people in line behind them clearly debating whether these were real celebrities or just really good cosplay. Homelander ends up signing a few autographs before Maeve tugs him forward to get in position for the lift.
“So this is just to bring people up the mountain?” he questions, looking around and swinging his skis like a bored kid. And maybe that’s what he is, Maeve thinks.
“Yeah,” she says. As they ski down the small ramp at the top of the lift, Homelander is clearly just taking his cues from her. Maeve hasn’t done this in so long that she hesitates and turns toward the intermediate difficulty slope. Homelander simply follows. He glides with relative ease for someone who’s never been on skis before. Then again, Maeve realizes that he’s not really skiing. As they head down the slope, she decide to stop abruptly. He glides down a little bit past her before halting and skiing himself backwards up the slope to stand in parallel with her.
Maeve smirks. Just as she thought. “Quit being creepy.”
“What?” he asks, and seems genuinely confused.
“What you’re doing isn’t skiing. Stop hovering and put your full weight on the snow.”
Homelander shrugs and visibly settles himself deeper into the snow’s surface.
“Skiing is about getting momentum from sliding down the mountain on two thin pieces of wood, not flying around pretending to ski.”
Maeve expects him to roll his eyes or get defensive and snarky. But Homelander just stares at her and even nods slightly as if she’s some guru dropping knowledge on him.
“You pivot and turn abruptly to stop. You can use your poles to help push off and change direction.” He’ll get annoyed at being tutored at some point, right?
But Homelander still nods. And before Maeve can push off herself, he starts down the slope, looking much less smooth this time, apparently testing things out, trying to do it by her rules. She still suspects he’s using his powers when he stops and looks back at her as if to ask ‘did I do it right this time?’ She skis down to join him.
“Yeah just like that. You’re getting the hang of it.”
They finish the run and get back on the lift, more and more of the crowd at the bottom wisening up to the fact that they’ve got a celebrity among them, but Homelander signs fewer autographs this time before getting on the lift again.
Maeve's getting strangely emotional, sitting here, legs dangling far above the treetops, feeling like she’s gone back in time, almost forgetting who this is. Homelander isn’t her dad. They’re nothing alike, even if she hates both of them. And yet, sitting here in the lift chair takes her back to the times she misses so much, before her dad impressed upon her that becoming part of a Vought-sponsored team should be her goal in life.
“Sorry, I know the lift must be boring when you can just ski up the mountain,” Maeve says. She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing.
Homelander shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I like sitting here with you.”
When he wraps his arm around her, Maeve can’t believe she starts crying. Homelander looks confused and retracts his arm.
“Did- did I hurt you?” he asks, and there’s not an ounce of disdain in his voice, only worry.
“No, it’s nothing,” Maeve says, laughing it off and furiously wiping the tears away. “I just remembered the last time I went skiing with my dad. We never really got along. But I did like to go skiing with him.”
Homelander looks at her, and– even though he can’t possibly understand how she feels– uncannily enough manages to look sympathetic, and she doesn’t even flinch when he wraps his arm around her again, squeezing her closer.
The moment is only ruined by a wolf whistle from the chair behind them.
Homelander’s head starts swiveling back but Maeve pushes his chin back so he keeps facing her. She doesn’t even mind when he takes that as a prompt to start kissing. It’s gentle and feels maudlin– the way he prefers it and she doesn’t. When he’s like this, she can almost forget how violently possessive he gets over her, can almost forget how Vought forced her to hide her sexual past and pretend Elena doesn’t exist. Can almost forget how she was forced into a relationship with him– first a PR one for the ratings, then a “real” one, still for the ratings. Can almost forget that Madelyn Stilwell volunteered all sorts of tips about how to navigate his capricious mood swings and exploit some of his strange vulnerabilities, which made Maeve wonder what sort of relationship they had and may still be carrying on. No, she won’t think about any of that while they’re sitting on this ski lift together, the air cool and crisp around them, his skis overlapping with hers.
She decides to go down the black diamond side this time. People gawk. Maeve feels invigorated, brave, fulfilled, and heads over the bumps so fast that she does end falling into the snow ungracefully. Homelander skis up beside her, looking concerned even though she gets up laughing, wiping snow from her face and hair with the back of her gloved hand.
“You okay there?” he asks, clearly not worried that she hurt herself, but maybe a little worried at other skiers witnessing this. There is someone who stopped further up the slope and whipped out his phone, probably filming all this.
“Yeah. Falling’s part of the fun,” she says. “You should try it sometime.”
“No thanks,” he bites off tersely.
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get that cape wet,” she mumbles under her breath as she starts heading down the slope again. She knows he heard her, no matter how quietly she said it.
They keep skiing even after sundown, just like she used to do when she was a child, not bothering to take a break for a meal. Truthfully, she has no interest in walking into the lodge cafeteria and creating a commotion of people wanting selfies and autographs. Homelander is just taking her cues, following her around like a puppy the entire time. He doesn’t deign to fall over, not even for her sake, but he takes the lift up each time, never insisting on being an asshole and skiing up the slope or flying to show off. She suspects sitting on the lift with her is actually his favorite part of this whole escapade leaving Vought Tower for the day.
“Still bitter about the snow day?” she asks playfully on one of their more silent trips on the lift when he seems lost in thought.
He’s staring off into the distance with a strange look on his face, then seems to look down and study his skis. “I did have snow days as a child,” he says. “They just weren’t very fun.”
She tenses a little bit. When Homelander reminisces about his childhood it’s often the death knell of any fun, normal interaction between them, and a turn toward a morose angry mood. But he looks calm. 
“When there was a snow emergency, only a skeleton crew would come to work in the lab. Nobody interacted with me. Most of the scientists would stay home. The whole building was much quieter than usual. They never did experiments on me on those days, I guess, but it wasn’t a good tradeoff. I’d sit there listening to the snow landing on the roof of the building, without really knowing what it was. I’d only seen it in pictures and movies. I didn’t even imagine that it’s something wet.”
Maeve feels herself shudder and quickly pretends it’s because she’s cold, prompting Homelander to hug her in closer. He even wraps his cape around her, and she knows he hardly ever uses that for anything so utilitarian. She’s not going to let him know she shudders whenever she hears yet another tidbit about his lab days and realizes anew that the way he was raised means he can never be a balanced, pleasant person, and that it’s a miracle that he can mimic people enough to blend in. Vought have managed to raise an alien creature on earth.
Homelander leans his head in even closer and whispers “Can we have sex tonight? When we get back?” in a wheedling tone, and she nods automatically without even thinking, terrified of him and at the same time full of pity.
A smile spreads wide on his face and he releases her from the embrace as they near the top of the lift and prepare to ski off.
A/N: This blizzard was a real thing :)
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saintship · 1 year
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could I request a florist!könig x reader?? I don't even know how this would go, but I like the idea of him being absolutely enthralled in plants and bugs as a kid. lil dude would know anything and everything about flowers, because he'd bring back random assortments of wildflowers and foliage back to his grandmother after a day of wandering around the woods and playing pretend, and she'd buy him a big book about flowers one day because she thought it was adorable.
was thinking reader could be a regular, because she likes having fresh bouquets around her workplace/at home/to give as gifts? she knows quite a bit about flowers and their meanings (though, it pales in comparison to what könig knows- i don't think anyone could ever compete), and she's just head over heels for whatever whack ass/gorgeous assortment he comes up with for her.
who knows, maybe our lil köni finally musters up some courage one day and throws in a free bouquet for her? 👀
Ancient draft. Cobwebs. Please forgive me this request is magical
*Some real places are mentioned but the floral shop is fictional ALSO if my German is bad feel free to correct me and I can make the edit, thank you!
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Daffodils - König x reader
Salzburg wasn’t the city you were born in, but it might as well have been. You’d found a peace there; the summer rain, snowy winters, and captivating architecture being just a few wonders of the city.
Hotel Altstadt was where you made a living, tucked inside a busy plaza where the young children could never seem to sit still. A dozen or so steps across from the hotel was a small floral and plant nursery.
Königs Blumen un Pflanzengärtnerei, a shop that had grown popular since it opened its doors for travelers and tourists. The shop was beautiful, inside and out, with creeping vines and a wonderful twinkling filling the room each time the door opened. The brass bell responsible was entwined with a long sprig of lavender, which carried its smell to greet newcomers. Shelves of live, flowering plants lined the walls, some of which you couldn’t name, while in the center, a calm fountain bubbled around several ferns and tall lilies. The piece would block the register entirely if it weren’t for the owner’s height—he had to be more than 6’5’’, with generous muscle accompanying his stature and a head of auburn waves that brushed his ears before tapering off. He always wore a black fabric mask with floral detailing. Beautiful, but you always wondered why he did so.
The reason you were lucky enough to familiarize with him was the honeymoon couples of the hotel—you were often tasked with picking up entryway bouquets and treated rose petals for the bedspreads, and protected that position with your life. Today was the day you gathered enough courage to strike up a non-professional conversation with the man you’d been admiring for some time.
A breeze slanted through the alleys and roadways, providing some relief from the warm weather. You made your way across the plaza with your delivery cart as usual, thanking a young girl who held open the shop door for you. You walked inside, glancing into the fountain where coins glittered below the wavering surface.
“Good morning, König.” You sidled up to the counter, offering him a smile.
“Morgen! Here for the roses again?” He replied brightly, leaning down to reach for the package of white and red roses used for romantic suites.
“Yes, thank you..” your heart pounded as you received the first package, not missing how your fingers grazed his hand.
“I’m sure you grow a lot of these, huh?”
You managed to spit it out; a simple invitation to a real conversation.
“Yes..but it is not often I’m bored.” König remarked, handing over another package. “I enjoy the white ones especially.”
You gazed at the flower he’d pointed out, nearly getting distracted before quickly stowing it away and reaching for the next.
“Eternal love, right?”
König looked up, blinking.
“The meaning, I mean. Of-of white roses?”
Oh my god, kill me.
“Oh, yes! I have heard that perspective..though I always thought the classic meaning was most accurate; youthfulness.” He paused, holding onto the third package to study it. “So—young love, then.” He looked up, and you felt as though the earth fell around you. You took the last box, setting it down carefully.
“What other meanings do you know?” It didn’t matter that you knew many already, you just couldn’t drag yourself away from him.
“Quite a few..” he looked off a bit, thinking. “What’s your favorite flower?”
You felt a twinge of warmth at your cheeks. “Daffodils.. daffodils are my favorite. I like adorning flowers too, like baby’s breath and lily of the valley.”
He blinked, pleasant surprise flashing over his gaze. “Are you a florist?”
“I make arrangements for my friends sometimes—so, freelance?”
He laughed a bit. “Keep it down, I need business.”
You smiled in return. “Every good business has a partner, no?”
You don’t know where this banter was coming from, but decided to seize the confidence while it was there.
“I suppose you’re right.” König conceded, then studied you for a moment. “You already know what daffodils represent, don’t you?”
You don’t reply for a moment, seemingly forgetting how to form a sentence, before your phone goes off.
“Sorry..hello?” You turn, holding the phone to your ear. “Right..okay. Be right there.” You click to end the call, grasping your cart. “I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you..”
You steer back into the plaza, letting a deep breath free itself from your chest. Your hammering heart only frustrated you further, shaking your head and getting back to to work.
It was a notable stretch of time before your job drove you back to König's shop; lord knows you weren't going to wander in there on your own volition. The thought of him started to make your heart flip over, and it was close to nauseating. When you did, you saw something near the door that caught your eye. Abandoning your cart, you approached the small display table arranged to the side. You usually had trouble with written German as opposed to spoken, but the label was straightforward. "Blume des Monats". Flower of the month. It was an arrangement nestled in a small ceramic vase, the dominating flower being--the daffodils.
"You inspired me."
König's voice behind you made you turn, nearly spraining your neck from surprise. "I did?"
He was wearing a button down today, the sleeves hiding his hyacinth tattoo.
"You did. The adorning pieces, too. I find yellow and white fit nicely together for a light summer arrangement, both their looks and etymology."
You turn back, confirming the appearance of the baby's breath that framed the yellow flowers. "I agree."
König stepped up so he was standing beside you, looking at the arrangement as well. "I have to tell you, uh.. while I was arranging this, I wasn't imagining it to be displayed."
You look up at him, blinking. "No?"
He seemed to avoid your eyes. "No." he shifted his weight, glancing at the floor. The sight of a relatively intimidating man shifting on his feet was, admittedly, endearing. Still, the warmth in the tips of your ears irritated you to no end.
"I was going to uh..give it to you. Because I thought you'd like it. And then I was going to ask you on a date."
You smile to yourself, looking at your shoes. "I wish you would have."
You felt his eyes on you. "Truly?"
You nod, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, your nervous energy melted ever so slightly into a comfortable sort of understanding.
"Well, uh.." König took the arrangement by the stems, the water dripping as he held it in front of him. You couldn't help but laugh gently at his tenacity.
"Your floors-"
"Could I take you on a date sometime?"
"I--yes, just, oh your shoes.." you take the hand he holds the flowers with, setting them gently back in their place. You can only see his eyes, but they seem to be smiling.
"Wonderful. I'll have another when I pick you up."
"Oh, that's not-"
"With orchids."
You blink, his proximity suddenly clouding your awareness.
"Oh."
His eyes seem to tilt with another smile.
"I think you know their meaning."
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forhappysake · 10 months
Text
What Lurks Within, Pt. 9
Author's Note: Still not studying for that exam... anyway, enjoy the fic!
Content: When Spencer and Y/N find the unsub, they realize they're up against more than one perpetrator. The altercation leads to one team member's hospitalization, while the other is taken hostage by the unsubs. The race to get all the BAU members home safely is on, but the team will need some help from the dirty police chief if they're going to do so.
Warnings: Established relationship, physical altercation, typical BAU level violence, allusions to drugs and alcohol (bottles and paraphernalia), some blood, a head injury, and a k!dnapping
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Spencer pulled the SUV into the narrowly paved path the park offered for vehicles. “Do you think we should get out or just drive through?” I asked. 
Spencer brought the SUV to a stop after pulling to the edge of the narrow roadway, “Let’s get out and walk around a bit. If Phillip is here, we have to assume he’s too smart to be staying next to the road.” I nodded, reaching for the door handle. 
“Wait, take this,” Spencer reached into the back seat and handed me my bullet-proof vest. I slipped it on over my head, following Spencer’s lead as he slipped into his own. After a moment, we both opened our car doors and slipped out into the chill of the evening. 
Spencer walked a few steps in front of me, flashlight off but prepared in his hand. I kept a tentative hand on my holster and I swept my hand over the cool metal of my firearm. From somewhere to the right, I heard the crunching of dead leaves. 
Spencer and I both froze in place. He clicked on the flashlight and shone it in the direction of the noise. A shadowy figure caught my eye. As I drew my weapon, I realized the figure before me was that of a startled doe. The animal stood as still as she could, her eyes locked on Spencer and I. As Spencer moved to lower the flashlight, the doe turned and took off into the woods. I heard Spencer let out a relieved breath as he turned forward again, cutting the flashlight, and we continued our trek deeper into the park. 
After walking for another couple minutes, Spencer motioned for me to stop. I followed his lead, my firearm still in my hand. He turned to look at me, then pointed at the ground. Looking down, I noticed a distinct mixture of food wrappers and beer cans littering the grass under our feet. Though not uncommon for a public park, it was enough to take note of as we carried on our way. 
Spencer turned back to me after another hundred steps or so. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s here. I guess we can loop around this way,” he pointed towards the west, “and head back up towards the SUV.” 
I shrugged, “Works for me, Spence.” He continued to lead our path. Just as we were about to turn our backs and start towards the front of the park, I noticed something in the treeline of the woods. “Spencer,” I whispered. He stopped in place, turning his body to follow the direction my eyes were pointing. He noticed it too - the small light shining from the treeline in the same woods that the doe had scampered into only minutes prior. 
Spencer frowned and furrowed his brow. “Wait here,” he said. I took a quick step forward, grabbing him harshly by the arm. “Are you crazy? We’re going together.” 
He bit his lip in deep thought before relenting with a weak nod of his head. He turned back towards the flickering light source which continued to draw our attention. “It almost looks like a campfire,” I whispered. He nodded from his position in front of me. We crept up on the apparent fire. When we were nearly one hundred feet away, Spencer stopped us, signaling for me to crouch down with him behind the remnants of a fallen tree. 
As we crouched and tried to hold our breaths, I felt something hard under my boot. I lifted my foot and tapped Spencer on the shoulder, pointing down towards where my shoe had landed moments ago. Mixed in with the fallen leaves was a discarded syringe. Spencer raised an eyebrow, and just as he opened his mouth to speak a crackle of leaves came from the darkness behind us. 
I whipped my head around to investigate the sound when I felt something grab ahold of my hair, pulling me to the ground. I heard Spencer shout something from a few feet away, and I could have sworn I heard a single gunshot ring out into the cold night. 
As I tried to bring myself to stand again, I heard another crack of dead leaves and felt a sharp pain as an object collided with the back of my head. I crumpled to the ground, a foreign warm substance seeping down the back of my neck. I’m bleeding. Where’s Spencer?
I heard his voice again, calling out from a short distance away. I felt a presence standing over me. Despite the darkness and my blurred vision, I could make out Spencer’s figure above me. He leaned down, rolling me on to my back. A tearing sound ripped through the night as he removed part of his shirt sleeve to hold against the back of my head. As he leaned over me, I tried to form proper words, but nothing left my mouth. 
“Hey, we’re okay,” Spencer said, though the panic in his voice seemed to denote otherwise. “Keep looking at me, you’re doing great. I called for backup. Someone should be here any minute, okay?” 
I managed to groan in reply as the throbbing pain in the back of my head became stronger by the second. I did my best to maintain consciousness and focus on Spencer’s figure above me, but it was then I noticed a second figure leering over both of us in the darkness. I tried to utter a warning, but all that came out was a panicked shriek. 
“What? What is it?” Spencer asked. Just as he finished his statement, the figure behind him kicked Spencer in the side, knocking him over on the ground next to me. I had to do something, and I tried to stand up, only to slip back on to the cold ground once more. 
Spencer started to rise from the ground when the figure above him landed another kick on his chest and abdomen. He writhed on the ground next to me, still trying to drag himself back to a fighting position. Spencer managed to sit up and lunge at the perpetrator in front of him, grasping both of their legs and throwing them to the ground. 
As Spencer tried to climb on top of our attacker, a woman’s voice rang out into the night from somewhere beside me. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” My blurry vision could only make out part of the girl standing above me. Her thin hair and cracked teeth did nothing to hide her resemblance to her mother. 
“Mira Graydon,” I whispered, the blood from the back of my head soaking the ground beneath me now. I watched the figure walk over to where Spencer and the unnamed attacked fought for dominance on the ground. 
“Phil, you’re pathetic,” I heard her say. I saw her lift something over her head and bring it down on Spencer’s back. Spencer gasped, rolling off the man who he’d tried so hard to capture - Phillip Graydon. “You’re welcome,” she murmured to Phillip, as I heard him trying to catch his breath on the ground. “Now, what should we do with her?” she used the object in her hands, presumably a baseball bat, to gesture over at my bleeding figure on the ground. 
Phillip pulled himself up from his position on the ground as Spencer laid still, evidently passed out. “Just leave her, she’s bleeding out anyway.” 
“Fine,” Mira said. “What about him?” she gestured the bat towards Spencer. I felt my vision starting to fade, but I swore I could hear a siren somewhere in the distance. Please move faster, please move faster. 
“Put him out of his misery,” Phillip said. Mira scoffed. 
“Have I taught you nothing? We’re on the run now, Phil. I think we should take him with us. He’s like collateral, we could use him to our advantage. Besides, he’s kinda cute.” 
Phillip rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you have to help me drag him out of here. We’d better get going. I think somebody’s coming.” He gestured towards the front of the park where lights were beginning to appear as he leaned down to Spencer’s unconscious body, draping one of his arms over his shoulders. 
It was in that moment that my vision left me completely as sounds around me began to fade even more. Before I fully lost consciousness, I could hear the sound of leaves crunching under the weight of the two Graydons dragging Spencer into the woods. 
  -     -  -
Beep… Beep… Beep…
I struggled to open my eyes, wincing as the fluorescent lights from above attacked my vision. I squeezed them shut again, instead choosing to wiggle my fingers and toes. My whole body felt like it hadn’t moved for days. Days. How long have I been here? Where is here?
Suddenly, the memories of my last moments of consciousness came flooding back to me. I forced myself to open my eyes, attempting to turn my head in order to observe the room around me: white walls, cabinets, IV drip. I looked down at my legs. Scratches from the park ground covered my legs which were bare below my knees, covered only by my hospital gown. I reached down to lift the gown up, revealing the burn on my leg from our first day in Denver. Someone had bandaged it. 
As I tried to lift my head from the hospital bed, I inadvertently let out a loud groan. I shut my eyes to wince and I heard hurried footsteps approaching my room. “Hey, hey, it’s JJ. You’re all safe. Lay back.” I felt her hands gently pushing my shoulders back to the bed. I couldn’t resist her, still weak from the beating I’d taken. 
I cleared my throat, though my voice still came out hoarse, “How long?” I forced my eyes open again, looking at JJ to try and read her reaction. “You’ve only been here for four hours, which is why you need to lay back and rest.” Thank God. 
“Spencer,” I said next, keeping my eyes fixed on her. She didn’t respond. She looked down at my scratched legs and seemed to avoid my eyes. “JJ, Spencer?” I asked again. 
She sighed. “We haven’t found him yet-” she started. I winced, not at the physical pain, but at his absence. “We’re looking. We’re close. We’re going to find him soon.” 
I shook my head the most I could muster in this particular situation, arching my back off the bed and trying to force my neck to follow. JJ didn’t attempt to hold me back this time, knowing it wouldn’t be any use. 
I sat up on my own, swinging my legs off the bed. I felt like my head was on fire, and every muscle begged me to lay back down. How could I when Spencer was who-knows-where? 
“Where are my clothes?” I asked. 
JJ shook her head, “You can’t go anywhere. Just stay there and I’ll get you some water-”
“Jennifer,” I cut her off, looking up at her with determination, “where are my clothes?” I asked through gritted teeth. It was then I noticed the IV attached to my hand and the little EKG readers strapped to my chest. I yanked them off, removing the IV needle from my hand last. Drops of blood trickled from my hand and I ripped part of the cheap hospital bed sheet to make a makeshift bandage. 
JJ backed up from the bed. “I’ll get you your clothes,” she said, defeated. She turned and walked to the other side of the room, handing me my go-bag. I rifled through it for a moment, settling on a pair of sweatpants and Spencer’s CalTech sweatshirt. 
“You don’t think they’ll mind if I’m underdressed, do you?” I joked bitterly. JJ rolled her eyes. 
She shook her head. “You’re going to get me fired. I’m supposed to keep you here.” 
“Do they really think any of you will be able to keep me here when Spencer is out there?” I asked as I gently pulled the sweatpants up my legs and over the bandage on my burnt thigh. 
“I hope not,” she said, “because clearly I’m not doing a very good job.”
As I stripped off the hospital gown and pulled the sweatshirt on, I accidentally bumped the bandage on the back of my head, sending a throbbing pain through my head and neck. I groaned audibly. 
“See, this is why you’re not supposed to leave,” JJ said, “you’re not in any shape to travel.” 
“You’re right,” I said, discarding the hospital gown on the floor and taking my tentative first steps on the ground. Though I was a bit wobbly, I could do it, especially if I used the railing to steady myself. 
“If you’re making me break you out of here, at least use this,” JJ said, bringing over a walker from the corner of the room. 
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, scoffing at the walker. It was at that moment that I began to wobble and JJ helped balance me. She raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the walker. “Dammit. Fine.”
I stabilized myself on both sides of the walker before JJ led us down the hallway. She flashed her FBI badge at the nurse’s counter, not stopping as we proceeded, albeit at a slow pace.  “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” I mumbled when we were out of earshot from the counter. 
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out of bed right now, but we’re all breaking rules tonight,” she retorted. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut. When we finally made it to the main entrance of the hospital, JJ pulled her phone out of her pocket. 
I watched as she pressed a few buttons and held the phone to her ear. “Yeah, Luke. I’m good to go. Pull around front.” I watched as a black SUV whipped into the carport. JJ and I walked out together, and she held the passenger car door open for me as I climbed in.
“Whoa, whoa,” said Luke, waving his hands, “what is this? She’s not supposed to go anywhere!”
JJ shot him a look as I settled myself in the passenger seat. “You think I don’t know that, Luke? But she’s not going to sit on the sidelines while Spencer is missing. If we make her, she’ll make our lives hell.” I raised my eyebrows at her before turning to Luke, offering him a look that said ‘she’s absolutely right.’ He let out a dramatic sigh as JJ climbed in the back seat. 
Luke shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the hospital and out onto the street back towards the precinct. The drive was quiet as I nervously picked at my hands, thinking of Spencer and what he may be going through. I forced myself to change my train of thought as I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. 
As soon as I’d forced my tears away, Luke pulled into the precinct parking lot and brought the car to a halt in the handicapped space by the door. “So thoughtful,” I mumbled as JJ opened my car door and helped me balance against the walker.
After I was stable, the three of us slowly made our way to the door. Luke held it open as JJ followed close behind me, making sure I wouldn’t fall backwards if I got off balance. “Where’s everyone?” I asked. 
“Conference room,” Luke replied. I nodded as best I could without agitating the throbbing pain in the back of my head, dragging myself towards the conference room’s closed door. JJ cut in front of me, holding the door open. 
“Hey,” I heard Emily say, “I didn’t expect you back so soon. What did the doctor say about Y/N?”
 JJ bit her lip, “I didn’t really get that far.” I could feel Emily’s confusion from outside the conference room, so I gently hobbled myself through the doorway. 
Emily gasped. “What the hell are you doing here? You can’t even walk right!”
I lifted one hand from the walker and waved her off in dismissal. “I’m fine. Spencer needs my help more than I need my help right now. Just let me be here and let me feel like I’m contributing,” I said quietly.
Emily paused for a moment, before sighing her agreement. Matt came over from the other side of the room, helping to lower me into a chair around the conference room table next to Rossi. Rossi leaned over and patted my arm, “I always knew you were a tough cookie.”
I smiled weakly in response. “Alright, I’m ready. What do you know?” I asked. 
Emily gestured to the board at the front of the conference room. “Based on the scene of where you were found in the park, we put together that there must be two unsubs, as in the two Graydon children. We haven’t quite figured out what exactly went down at the scene, if you have any insight,” she offered me the floor. 
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes in an attempt to recall what had happened when Spencer and I were in the park. “I think Mira hit me over the head with something, maybe a baseball bat,” I shrugged before continuing. “I heard something like a gunshot. I-I’m assuming Spencer shot at her, but I don’t know if he hit her or not. When Spencer came to check on me, Phillip knocked him over and they got into some sort of altercation. Spencer was able to get on top of him, but Mira knocked him unconscious with whatever she’d used to hit me.”
I opened my eyes to the team around the table. JJ winced at the story I was telling, nervously threading a strand of hair through her fingers over and over again. Emily cleared her throat, “What about their dynamic? Did one seem to be the leader?” 
I nodded. “Mira was in charge, I think. Phillip wanted to kill Spencer,” I choked up a bit at the thought, taking a pause before continuing. “But Mira said they should take him alive because they could use him as collateral.”
Emily nodded, “So we know their dynamic. When it comes down to it, Phillip will do anything for his sister. Let’s remember that if we get into some sort of negotiations with them.” Heads bobbed in agreement around the table. 
“Do you have any leads on where they may be holding Spencer?” I asked, hope seeping into my voice. 
Emily shook her head, “All we have to go on is the geographical profile that Spencer and JJ were building the other day. Like JJ said, it’s a broad area. We have local law enforcement canvasing those seventeen neighborhoods. Hopefully something will turn up.” 
I shook my head, “They've got to have a vehicle if the geographical profile is right. There's no way they could carry Spencer unnoticed for multiple blocks... and I think Chief Graydon knows where their hideout is.” Eyebrows raised among group members. 
“Why do you think that?” Rossi asked. 
“I talked with Graydon’s wife yesterday. She made a comment that gave me the impression he may know their whereabouts, he just won’t let her have contact with them.” 
Rossi shrugged, “Could be worth a shot. He’s still here, we’ve booked him on obstructing a criminal investigation. I’ll pull him into an interrogation room and see what I can find out.”
“No-” I reached over quickly as Rossi began to rise from his chair, grabbing him by the arm. Everyone at the table was surprised at my sudden movement. Rossi lowered himself back into his chair, waiting for me to continue. I cleared my throat, removing my hand from Rossi’s arm. “I should be the one to talk to him.” 
Emily shook her head before the words had even left my mouth. “No, you’re in no shape to interrogate. Not to mention that you’re way too close to this whole thing now.” 
I scoffed. “Emily, we’re all too close to this thing now. There’s not a person in this room who doesn’t love Spencer and isn’t willing to break some rules to see him get back here safely.” Silence fell over the conference room. “Am I wrong?” I asked the group. JJ shook her head, and the rest of the table followed suit. 
I paused before continuing. “Let Graydon see what his children have done,” I pointed at the back of my head, “I really believe I can get him to sympathize with me. Let me tell him what’s at risk if he doesn’t give them up.”
I watched Emily’s eyes flicker around the group before she settled her gaze on me once more. She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. “Fine,” she relented, “but we’re all going to be in that observation room. If I feel that you can’t handle it, someone will be coming in to replace you.” I nodded as best I could, accepting her conditions.
To be continued...
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superficialseer · 2 months
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very glad to always have totally normal feelings about things i like!!!! i can be trusted to engage with stuff i like in a normal way!!! :)
anyways sneak peek at the new soulmate tylerkate fic i’ve already broke 1k on after two hours of writing this afternoon:
“Skewed listless and without aim under the crowning weight of dirt and tears framing the blood-laden curl of her lashes, fingers broken and thigh rend down to bone with the red teeth of an angry open wound; the autonomous, unthinking urge to survive driving Kate to limp free of the mud-caked overpass, smoking fields of mangled debris and petrichor a silent sentry to the agonizing crawl. Dark cement scoured away, precarious sections of open roadway blistering open like an old wound, alien swathes of unrecognizable debris wind-rowed and obscured any semblance of a recognizable path. Half-blind from the viscous pulse of adrenaline and half-mad from the fear, she sees the wallowing steps of newly-made ghosts in the shaded, twisted, unfamiliar gleam of police lights.
Luck; it was anything but luck to walk away from that storm. It was cruelty, the feeling of walking away on bloodied feet once marked for a newly-evaded death.
Luck was unbecoming of Kate.”
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