#Two step evaluation prop firm
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Two Step Evaluation Prop Firm
TheTalentedTrader is a top two step evaluation prop firm, providing traders with a structured process to prove their skills. Successful traders gain access to firm capital, fostering growth, opportunity, and potential profitability in financial markets.
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Discover the One Step Prop Firm – a streamlined solution for traders seeking capital without complex evaluation processes. With a single-step funding model, this firm provides traders with quick access to trading capital, allowing them to focus on what they do best. More: https://www.thetalentedtrader.com/one-step-prop-firm/
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#One step prop firm#One step funding prop firm#Two step evaluation prop firm#Three step evaluation prop firm#prop firms#cheapest prop firms#funded trading accounts#trading risk management#instant funding prop firm#the talented trader#proprietary trading firm#prop firm trading#prop firm challenge#prop firms instant funding#forextrading#forex trading
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Apex Trader Funding Rules & Steps to Have a Successful Account
Apex Trader Funding Rules & Steps to Have a Successful Account
For those looking to dive into futures trading for a living or explore opportunities offered by proprietary trading firms, Apex Trader Funding is a robust platform that provides an excellent pathway to becoming a funded trader. Here, we will break down the rules, strategies, and steps required to succeed with Apex Trader Funding and highlight how it stands out among companies that fund forex traders and futures traders alike.
Understanding Apex Trader Funding Rules
Apex Trader Funding offers a streamlined process for traders to qualify for a funded trading account. Adhering to these rules is crucial to ensuring your success:
Meet the Profit TargetTraders must meet specific profit targets within their evaluation accounts. This target varies depending on the account size you choose.
Daily Loss LimitsEnsure you do not exceed the daily loss limits set for your account. Staying disciplined and managing risks effectively is key for futures day traders.
Trailing DrawdownApex employs a trailing drawdown mechanism, which adjusts based on your account's performance. Understanding how this impacts your trading decisions is vital.
Trading HoursAvoid trading during restricted times, such as economic reports or exchange holidays, to maintain compliance.
Consistency RuleApex values consistent performance, meaning you should avoid generating all your profits in one or two trades. Spreading out gains shows reliability and discipline.
These rules set the foundation for aspiring futures options traders or beginners looking to establish themselves in the trading world.
Steps to Achieve a Successful Funded Account
To succeed with Apex Trader Funding and maintain a funded account, follow these proven steps:
Educate YourselfStart by understanding the basics of futures trading. Read resources on futures trading blogs, attend webinars, and follow industry experts to refine your skills.
Choose the Right AccountApex offers multiple account sizes tailored to traders' needs. Selecting the account that aligns with your trading style and risk tolerance is essential.
Develop a Trading PlanCreate a detailed plan outlining your trading goals, risk management strategies, and preferred trading hours. Proprietary trading firms for beginners often emphasize the importance of having a well-defined strategy.
Leverage Simulated TradingUse Apex’s simulation tools to practice your strategies. This step is invaluable for futures trading prop firms looking to evaluate your skills before granting a funded account.
Stay DisciplinedAvoid overtrading or chasing losses. Focus on maintaining a steady approach to meet the evaluation criteria.
Monitor Market TrendsStay updated on market conditions and news affecting the futures trading exchange. Adapting to changes can improve your decision-making.
Benefits of Apex Trader Funding
Apex Trader Funding offers numerous advantages that attract traders across different levels of experience:
Low Minimum DepositUnlike some futures account minimum deposit requirements, Apex has affordable options, making it accessible to many traders.
Support for BeginnersAs one of the proprietary trading firms for beginners, Apex provides resources and tools to help traders grow.
Global AccessibilityWhether you're searching for proprietary trading firms near me or participating from a different region, Apex’s digital platform ensures easy access.
Diverse OpportunitiesTraders can explore various markets, including futures options brokers, to broaden their skills.
Highlighted Keywords in Context
Companies that fund forex traders: While Apex primarily focuses on futures, it offers an excellent model for traders transitioning from forex markets.
Forex funded: The funded account approach resembles forex-funded programs but with a focus on futures markets.
List of proprietary trading firms: Apex stands out among the list of proprietary trading firms for its transparent rules and supportive environment.
Futures trading service: Apex provides a comprehensive futures trading service, including account funding and trader support.
Futures trading firms: As a leader in futures trading firms, Apex helps traders excel through structured evaluations.
Futures trading prop firms: Apex operates as one of the top futures trading prop firms, offering flexibility and fair rules.
Futures trading contest: Traders can test their skills in competitive environments like trading contests hosted by Apex.
Proprietary trading companies: Apex sets itself apart from other proprietary trading companies with its trader-centric approach.
Futures day traders: The platform’s rules are designed to support futures day traders aiming for consistent results.
Futures options trader: Opportunities abound for futures options traders looking to expand their expertise.
Futures account minimum deposit: Apex’s low minimum deposit requirements make it ideal for traders starting small.
Future trading exchange: Keeping an eye on developments in the futures trading exchange is vital for success.
Final Thoughts
Apex Trader Funding is a standout choice for aspiring and experienced traders alike. With its transparent evaluation process, supportive environment, and flexibility, it serves as a gateway to a rewarding trading career. Whether you're exploring futures trading for a living, looking for proprietary trading firms near me, or aiming to master futures options trading, Apex equips you with the resources and opportunities to excel. Start your journey today and unlock your potential in the dynamic world of futures trading.
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Discover Your Potential with Prop Number One Firm
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e9ccf050df5bd4ea42bc71791fecf476/a89cda45929b3070-8e/s540x810/a423b5bf21e01fdbaa6289f828758e0fbb75fe19.jpg)
For traders seeking to maximize their potential in the financial markets, Prop Number One offers an unparalleled opportunity. This prominent prop trading firm provides traders with access to up to $300,000 in trading capital after successfully passing a two-phase challenge. This process not only assesses your trading abilities but also prepares you for the challenges and rewards of real market conditions.
What makes Prop Number One truly exceptional is its commitment to providing 100% of profits to funded traders. Unlike many firms that impose profit-sharing arrangements, Prop Number One believes that your success should be fully rewarded. This transparent profit model allows you to focus on your trading strategies, knowing that every successful trade directly contributes to your earnings.
In addition to generous profit-sharing, Prop Number One firm offers a salary of up to $3,000 for its funded traders. This monthly salary acts as a financial safety net, enabling you to concentrate on refining your trading techniques without the pressure of immediate financial obligations. The combination of a stable salary and full profit sharing creates an attractive environment for traders aiming for long-term success.
The journey with Prop Number One begins with the two-phase challenge, designed to evaluate your trading strategy, risk management, and market analysis skills. Successfully completing this challenge opens the door to not only significant capital but also a wealth of resources, mentorship opportunities, and a community of like-minded traders who are committed to mutual growth.
At Prop Number One, collaboration and knowledge sharing are fundamental values. The firm encourages traders to connect, exchange strategies, and learn from one another. This supportive environment fosters continuous improvement, allowing you to enhance your trading skills and navigate market complexities with confidence.
If you're ready to discover your true trading potential, Prop Number One is the ideal firm for you. With substantial capital, a transparent profit-sharing model, and a community dedicated to your success, the opportunities are endless. Take the first step towards realizing your trading dreams—join Prop Number One today and embark on a transformative journey toward financial freedom and success!
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Top 10 Forex Prop Trading Firms to Watch in 2024
With this sort of a highly volatile business environment for forex trading, prop trading firms—a more familiar term for proprietary trading firms—do pose an emerging giant opportunity for professional traders in the market. They offer providence to trade in most of the needed capital in the forex business and later earn a share of the profit as personal risk reduces. By early 2024, as 2024 has started, forex prop trading has seen some of the very best prop trading firms become quite competitive in today's market, thanks to their new ways of operation, advanced technology, and attractive funding models. In detail, this blog will give an overview of the top ten Forex Prop Trading Firms going to be watched in 2024 and what makes each, as noted above, unique in particular.
1. FTMO
Overview:
FTMO is probably one of the fastest-growing prop trading firms operating on the forex market nowadays. It is based in the Czech Republic, with that, it can be said that it surely represents a very special opportunity for traders—to access high volumes of capital by simply going through a two-step evaluation process.
Key Features
FTMO does the review in two stages and terms them the 'FTMO Challenge' and 'Verification.' The assessment provides immediate access to trading capital as high as $400,000.
The profit split is as high as 90% for the traders who make it as successful ones.
The stringent maximum loss limits are set out to bind on the traders very rigorous and disciplined trading.
Why to Watch in 2024:
FTMO does not cease from innovating, providing traders with advanced analytical tools and performance coaching in their quest to become successful. Their approach—transparent and helpful—certainly has made them a firm on watch.
2. TopStepFX
Product Overview:
Headquartered in Chicago, TopStepFX is a prop trading firm designed to raise one's skills through an all-inclusive evaluation program. But their belief in education and risk management makes it a top firm amongst upcoming traders.
Key Features:
Overview It has two steps to the evaluation process: a simulated trading combine, and thereafter, a funded account.
Funding Opportunity: Traders can access up to $500,000 in trading capital.
Profit Share: Competitive profit splits with consistency as the primary reward objective
Resources and Learning: Comprehensive resources, mentorship, and a set of development programs
Why Watch in 2024:
Ameliorate: TopStepFX's absolute concentration on trader development and education, along with an absolutely transparent funding model, makes them one of the leading prop trading firms operating within the Forex market.
3. The5ers
Overview:
The5ers are a prop trading firm based out of Israel and are well known for their simplicity, ease of use, and a no-nonsense attitude directed at traders. They have got a variety of different funding plans to suit most trading styles and risk appetites.
Key Features:
This one includes funding programs, and some of them are instant funding. Their profit split goes up to 100% on some accounts. Scaling Plan: Traders are better positioned to scale to $4 million. Support: This is the ongoing support and performance analysis tools.
Why Watch in 2024:
Being flexible and seeming to really care about the satisfaction of a trader makes The5ers stand out. Their scaling plan and instant funding options are also very tempting for the more ambitious trader.
4. MyForexFunds
General Impression:
MyForexFunds is one of the fastest-growing prop firms out there, given its great funding options and good trading environment. MyForexFunds is also based in Canada and offers a variety of programs to suit many levels of traders.
Key Highlights:
Offers fast, Evaluation, and Accelerated evaluation programs
Contestants get access to capitals up to $300,000.
Profit Share: Up to 85% profit split
Community and support: Active community and support for the traders.
Why to be Watch in 2024:
MyForexFunds makes a difference due to its high diversity in funding options and makes for an excellent community environment—both, which is perfect for growth of traders' careers in 2024.
5. BluFX
Overview:
BluFX features a subscription-based, one-of-its kind funding model where it allows its traders to trade in real capital instantaneously. Based in the UK, they offer the feature of instant access to funds to traders.
Key Features:
Subscription Model- Charged monthly fee for access to capital.
Up to $50,000 or $100,000 Trading Account Funding
Profit Sharing: 50% Profit Split
Risk Management: Easy to understand and transparent risk management rules.
Why Watch in 2024:
BluFX's instant funding model and very lucid manner of doing things make them one of the most different Prop trading companies out there. Their idea of keeping things simple and accessible will definitely ring a chord with many traders in 2024.
6. City Traders Imperium (CTI)
Overview:
City Traders Imperium is a prop trading firm located in London with a focus on the professional growth of its traders. It conducts a highly structured, long-term-focused evaluation process.
Features:
This is a trading skills in-depth evaluation.
An account starts with $10,000 and increases to a maximum of $2 million in funding.
There is 80% profit sharing.
It is an education-plus-one-to-one mentorship firm.
Why Watch in 2024
CTI boasts a structured trader education and career development path, making for an attractive opportunity if you are a serious trader wanting a long-term career.
7. Lux Trading Firm
Overview:
A professional trading environment with robust support systems is what Lux Trading Firm has to offer. They are known for running one of the more sophisticated evaluation processes in order to identify and develop top trading talent.
Key Features:
An evaluator will put a trader through numerous steps to test competency.
Funding up to $150,000; can rise to $2.5 million.
Profit Share: 80% Profit Sharing.
Professional support and advanced trading tools.
Why Watch in 2024:
Lux Trading Firm's professionalism and well-rounded support ecosystem set the organization at the top of many traders' lists when seeking quality in their trading environment.
8. OneUp Trader
Overview:
OneUp Trader simplifies the review process, focusing on getting traders up and running with funding in no time. They are US-based, with very accessible and approachable support for traders.
Key Features:
Evaluation Process: Easy one-step evaluation process
Funding: $25,000 accounts; scaling available
Profit Split: 50% – 80% Profit split
Community and Resources: Active community of traders; includes educational resources
Why Watch in 2024:
OneUp Trader's simple and easy-to-use approach, combined with access to funding, makes them arguably the best option for most traders.
9. Fidelcrest
Overview: Global prop trading firm offering diversified funding options with competitive evaluation processes and profit-sharing arrangements.
Key Features:
Evaluation Process: Rigorous two-phase process.
Funding: After passing the evaluation to get up to $1 million funded into an account.
Profit Split: up to 90%.
Trader Support: Continuous support and performance analysis.
Why Watch in 2024:
What makes Fidelcrest a very special company among prop traders is its world presence combined with a success-oriented approach in serving the traders. High proportions in profit split and state of the art support systems are built-in core features.
10. E8 Funding
Overview:
E8 Funding is one of the relatively newer prop trading assitances, but already it is gaining a quick reputation for its different way of doing things, which comes with its competitive options of funding.
Key Features:
Evaluation Process: The evaluation process is also very smooth and seamless. Funding: One can get access to a trading account of up to $250,000. Profit Split: Up to 80% profit split. Technology and Tools: The trading tools are with advanced technology support.
Why Watch in 2024: With E8 Funding possessing a fresh outlook and very competitive offers, for sure, they are one of the prop trading firms to watch grow more and innovate in this industry. The choice that you will make about the right forex prop trading firm shall remain the ultimate one for your entire trading life. The above-mentioned firms are at the forefront in 2024 because of their unique business concepts based on strong support systems, and the funding model is very attractive. Whether a professional trader or an absolute beginner in trading, these companies can help you trade with enormous capital and open doors to valuable resources when learning the art of trading. Knowing the best prop trading firms will help you unleash your full trading potential as the forex market keeps on changing.
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Smart Prop Trader Unleashed: Navigating Financial Success with our Proprietary Firm
"Smart Prop Trader," the ideal location for ambitious traders seeking greatness, welcomes you to the realm of financial expertise. Our customised firm ushers in a new era of sophisticated trading tactics and cutting-edge technology. Investigate a dynamic ecosystem in which knowledge meets innovation and traders thrive under the banner of our forward-thinking prop firm.
Join us on a journey to financial freedom, equipped with the knowledge of a savvy prop trader and the backing of a committed propfirm. Smart Prop Trader - where knowledge meets affluence - can help you up your trading game, capture chances, and design your road to success.
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[7:05pm] jisung’s never really been in love with anybody before. he’s never really thought about love and relationships the same way his friends, family, classmates, and even pets do. he’s more of the fuck-them-and-leave type; there were no strings attached, only first meetings and many unspoken words after that. you can say that he isn’t a relationship type of guy, and he intends to leave it that.
only one small problem: you exist.
see, jisung’s known you from quite some time--no, scratch that. he’s known you all his life. you could say that you’ve known each other since the birth of dawn, but even a fool knows that things like that would be impossible. let’s say jisung’s known you since elementary school, where he vaguely remembers being picked on by some bullies for being too outgoing and “weird”, and you stepped in for him with your bandaged kneecaps and humungous pastel ribbons. you could say that you were jisung’s savior, his hero. after that, the two of you were like batman and robin, only you were his batman.
dating forward to third year at uni, jisung’s feelings for you started to waver a bit, and for the most unappealing reason. you were caught in between a dilemma over which reigned supreme best: vinegar or milk. any man or woman would roll their eyes or leave the room if they sought you doing that, but jisung didn’t roll his eyes, and neither did he leave the room. it was only when you were evaluating your preferred liquids when his heart went “ba-dum” and his mouth whispered, “fuck. i think i’m in love with you.”
so, it’s perfectly reasonable for robin to put himself in a state of panic when batman pops the question of, “hey, do you know how to masturbate?”
excuse me? what kind of question is that?!
the long hand ticks at five past seven in the evening when you ask that, curled into the couch, phone in hand. it’s just so out of the blue, and though jisung should be used to that already, the context was more than just weird. it was absurd. “what now?” is all that jisung says, voice cracking midway.
“i said,” you reply, propping your knees down to the ground and sitting up to meet his wide eyes, “do you know how to masturbate?”
“uh,” jisung says poorly, “i guess? i’ve jerked off a couple of times before. why?”
ah, sex talk. jisung’s all about that sex talk. whether it’d be about toying with girl’s clits or blowing men’s dicks, he digs the sex talk. only, if he talks about it with his crush of a bajillion years, he doesn’t think that he’ll even muster up the courage to say “boobs”. sadly enough, you hum thoughtfully to yourself before deciding, “teach me!”
i knew this was coming. “what, how stroke a penis or how to touch yourself?” coming in nice and smooth, sungie. you’re doing great!
“how to touch myself, of course! did you not hear what i asked earlier?” you snort, rising up from your couch and approaching your best friend. “you said you were a sex god. surely, you must know how to make someone cum in thirty seconds!”
“yeah, okay, why are you asking me this?” jisung feels hopeless. he’s instantly regretting the days where he bragged about being everyone’s first timer. you falter for that one second, thinking of the best way to make this situation less awkward than it already is. “i just wanted to know how it feels like. what’s wrong with a little spice in my single sex life, you know? come on, jisung! just this once!”
say no. say no! “alright, fine. let’s give it a shot.” WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! “BUT!” jisung raises his finger up at you, pausing your momentary victory dance. “this is going to remain strictly platonic. i don’t want any fucking around after this whole thing, and i want to keep your mouth shut about this when we talk to our friends. got it?”
you nod your head eagerly, eyes shimmering with curiosity and excitement that it makes jisung want to coo and kiss you all over. however, he composes himself instead and makes sure that the door’s locked before leading you toward his bed, laying out a towel just right in the middle. “it’s so that you don’t get jizz all over my bedsheets.” jisung says, suddenly shy. “they’re new.”
by the time you’ve laid yourself down, you look at jisung expectantly, as if waiting for his next step. he scoffs at this, finding your anticipation adorable. “you’re so cute,” he comments before nudging his head at your closed legs. “spread your legs.”
“yes sir.” you purr jokingly before stifling a few giggles and spreading your legs open. yeah, that didn’t make me hard--snap out of it, jisung! he takes a deep breath at your exposed view, and gods be damned that you look heavenly all splayed out like that. he actually doesn’t believe that he’s doing this, but he isn’t denying the fact that he’s kind of enjoying it.
placing his hands on your thighs, he spreads your legs a little wider so that he can make his way on top of you. your breath shudders in awe at his thumbs on your inner thighs, and your eyes find your best friend when he finally looks down at you. you couldn’t help but wonder to yourself: since when did jisung look absolutely hot on top of me?
your breath suddenly hitches when you feel jisung’s hands slide up to the waistband of your shorts, hooking his fingers on the garter of your underwear and smoothing it down slowly, letting your hips move a bit to the sound of the garter slipping down with a gentle tug. “are you sure you want to do this?” jisung asks softly, his eyes never leaving you. “i don’t want to be the reason why you’re uncomfortable.”
you nod your head once more whilst looking down at your undergarments being pulled away in one swift, leaving your bottom half exposed to you and your best friend. you can feel the cool air slap your folds lightly, and you gasp a bit, instinctively pulling your legs together block the air from coming in. however, jisung catches your knees before it closes, and slowly spreads them wide again. “hey, it’s okay. just keep your legs open for me, baby.”
your eyes widen at that moment jisung uttered out that pet name, and you let out a breathy chuckle at his words. “baby?”
fuck! jisung inwardly curses, maybe even face-palming while he’s at it. damn your sexual experiences. “ah, sorry.” your best friend laughs nervously. “force of habit. just ignore that.” he didn’t even note the slightly disappointed look on your face, and proceeded to take your hand, folding your forefinger and pinky down. “now, people normally use these two fingers to touch themselves, but since you’re a beginner, you can start with one.” then, he folds your ring finger, and guides your hand down south, right just above your entrance. your breaths get shallower by the second he guides your finger to your clit, and with a gentle push, he pulls pressure on your finger, letting it hit the spot, just where you like it.
you emit a gasp at the direct hit, taken aback by how you were able to locate your pleasure spot with the help of your best friend. you don’t realize how jisung’s gotten closer to you, your faces inches apart, yet you feel your head throw back when jisung holds the back of your palm and moves it around, giving your clit more friction from your finger. he thinks you look beautiful like that; chest heaving, eyes getting foggy, lips parted and whimpers sounding across the room. it drives jisung crazy, how he can still be in love with you despite teaching you how to finger yourself? then again, when hasn’t he fallen in love with any random scenario that you cause?
“i love you.” jisung says suddenly, throwing you off guard. your finger stops moving, and you can feel your building arousal coming into a halt. for what seems to be a good ten seconds, you and jisung stare at each other in that exact same position. if an ant crawled by and saw that, even it will question the situation. that wasn’t the case for the both of you. “what?” you breathe out.
“i love you.” and this time, jisung doesn’t stop. “i’m in love with you, [first name]. you don’t even know. i’ve been in love with you ever since the day you saved me from those bullies, and it only grew stronger among the years. i’m sorry i confessed at the wrong and weirdest time, but i do love you, [first name]. you’re like the robin to my batman.”
“but batman doesn’t teach robin how to masturbate.” you cock up a small smirk at jisung teasingly, though you seem giddier now. “i mean, they could.” jisung retorts back, shrugging his shoulders. the two of you burst into giggles at that very instant, and when jisung recovers from his own fit of giggles, he smiles down at you, fond as ever. “so, what do you say, partner?”
he doesn’t need to ask twice when you pull him in for a kiss, one that’s firm and passionate. you even didn’t need to continue your own exploration down south, for when things got heated enough between you two, it was jisung who finished it for you.
#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids smut#han jisung#han jisung smut#pav.writes#THIS WAS LONG#but its ok jisungs hot anyway
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A Fine Line
I've really enjoyed Sami Zayn's paranoid, obsessive belief that there is some sort of WWE conspiracy against him. I'm also kind of persuaded that the company has exhibited a prejudice against him for no reason. So that's where this story comes from.
Pairing: Sami Zayn x OFC
Word count: 2,972
Content advisory: smut and a major dereliction of duty by a professional in a position of power
You’ve come to dread visiting this place. It’s not that the neighborhood is so bad, although you always make sure to park your car in the monitored lot rather than on the street, even though it means you have to walk a couple of blocks. You’ve been in worse places.
But it’s started getting to you, these regular appointments that seem to be getting more and more alarming. He’s not well. It’s not your fault and it’s not really your business. You’re just the Health and Safety officer who’s been assigned to meet with him while he’s experiencing what the company calls a “stressful episode”. You’re just there to determine if he’s healthy enough, mentally and physically, to fight every week and to recommend a medical course of action if you think he’s slipping. Lately, though, you get the feeling that everything that you report is getting distilled down to one word: yes. Yes, he’s fit to work, because he understands who he is, what the job entails, and how to do all the moves he needs to so that no one gets hurt. The fact that for the last three weeks you’ve been saying that he needs a break to stave off any problems in the future seems not to have registered with anyone. So every time you come back here and talk about his health, you feel like you’re failing him. Worse, it feels like you’re being dishonest with him.
You step onto the landing at the back of the house where he rents his tiny apartment. He could afford better but, as he’s told you, he likes it here. He needs his money for other things. What things? He doesn’t like to specify. But he’s certain that there’s a time coming when he won’t be earning what he is now, when he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do this kind of work anywhere.
As usual, you knock twice in quick succession and then twice slowly. Yes, you have a secret knock to gain admittance to the home of the man who is officially fine to risk his life and the lives of others in a wrestling ring.
“Come in,” comes the answer from inside.
You squint as you enter the darkened apartment. All the blinds are pulled down and he’s even pushed towels along the window sills so that no light leaks through the bottom. You can make out his figure sitting cross-legged on the floor but that’s about it.
“Lock it behind you, please,” he says, his tone as polite as ever but firm.
You do as he wishes, engaging both locks before turning back to look at him. He reaches over and turns on a lamp that’s sitting near him. It’s not a lot of light but it allows you to see that he looks more or less the same, no visible signs of self-harm or weight loss. His eyes shift rapidly over you, around the room, towards the door, all over the place. They’re feverishly bright, which is never a good sign. Despite his yoga-like pose, he shows little signs of agitation: his fingers tap ceaselessly on his knee, he chews a little on his lip, and he blinks a lot.
There’s a thick, musky aroma to the place, not exactly unpleasant but animalistic, not something that belongs in an urban apartment.
“Hi Sami,” you say, sitting down on the small, uncomfortable sofa in front of him. You place your handbag on the floor and keep your hands flat on your knees where he can see them. You’re not hiding anything.
“Hello.”
“How are you feeling today?”
“I feel wonderful.”
“That’s good.”
He nods vigorously. “I feel like I’m finally putting everything together.”
“How do you mean?” You hate it when he’s like this. On a selfish level, it means that he’s probably going to talk at you for three hours about the conspiracies against him and the enemies he’s made, and you’ll end up stuck in your office until eight or later parsing through your notes, trying to figure out what’s germane to an evaluation of his health.
“Did you see my match?”
“I saw some of it,” you answer guiltily. Wrestling is not your thing and you shouldn’t need to watch the product, which is fictional, in order to understand the very real health of your clients. But with Sami, it’s different. The divide between real and imaginary is fuzzy in his head and that makes it as real as the furniture in this room as far as his mental health is concerned.
“It looked really good.” You try to sound enthusiastic.
“I lost,” he grumbles.
“I know. Has that been hard on you?”
“It’s what I expected. That’s what the people want.”
“What people?”
“The people! The fans. The ‘WWE Universe.’” He waves his hands and smirks as he says those last two words and you do have to admit that it sounds pretty dumb. He sees your lips twitch in amusement and smiles. “All those weird little faces on screens.”
“They weren’t faces on screens last week, though.”
“No, they were real. Or what passes for real.”
“You don’t think those were real people watching you?”
“They were the chosen ones. The ones that the people in charge wanted to be there. It’s not like it used to be. It’s all controlled. Only people they’re certain about get to see what’s going on. You see what they want you to see.”
He’s getting irritable, you can tell, something which always makes you nervous. He’s never gotten violent or threatening with you, not even close. He’s raised his voice and paced around and that’s been stressful enough. He’s not huge like some of the guys he works with but he’s strong and when he gets upset you can see the muscles beneath his skin. If he turned on you, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.
What’s truly horrible is that whenever he does start to get riled up, there’s a part of you that feels a little excited by it. It’s the worst thing that you could be thinking about a client, the most hideous betrayal of your ethics. But there’s something about him, all that energy and intelligence, misdirected though it may be.
“That’s what entertainment is, though,” you counter. “The people producing it always control what the audience sees.”
“Entertainment,” he hisses.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way. I know you’re an athlete.”
“No, I am an entertainer. I’m both. But when they say it they mean I’m there for their entertainment. They mean that I’m to do what they tell me. I did this for years and I could come up with my own stories and use my own ideas. I can’t do that anymore. They won’t let me. They’re scared of what I’d do.”
“Has anyone said that to you?”
He laughs mirthlessly. “No one says that to you. No one says anything real, ever. It’s all ‘we think you should do it this way’ or ‘we think this is a good plan for you’. No one tells you what they’re actually thinking. You have to dig it out, you have to look for it behind what they say and then you discover what it is they’re really up to.”
“And what is it that they’re up to as far as you’re concerned?”
He glares at you and leans back a little.
“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one they’re paying to interrogate me every week.”
“You think this is an interrogation?”
“Isn’t it?”
It’s obvious that this is devolving into childishness. Every time you’re here, it happens at least once but it usually takes you longer to trip up and give him a reason to shut you out.
“I’m sorry, Sami. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was… I want you to be able to trust me, to feel like you can talk to me. Yes, I work for the company but my job, what I trained to do, is keeping people healthy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Do you believe me?”
“It’s a nice thought. You seem nice.”
You smile, projecting all the warmth and kindness you can muster.
His expression grows suspicious again. “But it’s still them sending you here. Maybe they don’t tell you what to say or what information you’re supposed to be getting from me. Maybe they just figure that they can send this sexy woman over to act like my friend and I’ll forget about everything they’re trying to do to me.”
“I’m not here to be your friend, Sami. I’m here to see if I can help you, professionally. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.” After a moment’s reflection, you add, “Thank you for the compliment, though.”
He chuckles a little. “Are you allowed to think that?”
“You mean, am I allowed to be complimented that I like hearing you say I’m sexy? I don’t know. But you know I’m flattered by it.”
He can’t deny that. He knows full well that you’ve developed a crush on him. He can see it in the way that you blush when he says nice things about you, and how happy you look when he opens up to you a little. It’s uncomfortable that he knows the power he has over you but it’s also helpful because he talks to you more easily than he would to others. He likes knowing that you’re a bit soft on him.
He leans back, propping himself on his elbows so that his shirt falls away from his chest. You’re used to him appearing with his shirt undone so that you can see a bit of his torso, but this is more of a display than you’re used to. You demurely cross your legs at the ankles and focus on meeting his restless eyes.
“What do they tell you to get from me when you come here?”
“They don’t tell me anything,” you insist. “I’m supposed to come here and determine if you’re able to fight or if you need to have some sort of therapy.”
“You mean like electroshock therapy,” he grunts.
“No, there are lots of different things I’d recommend before that. For instance, like I keep telling you, I wish you’d consider medication to help cope with this paranoia you feel about the company and what they have in mind for you.”
“Paranoia?” he snorts. “What does that mean again?”
“It means you have an unreasonable fear or anxiety regarding something.”
“So what’s the opposite of paranoia?”
“I don’t really know what you’re asking,” you stammer. “I guess it would be not living in fear. Or recognizing a real threat and reacting to it appropriately.”
“But there isn’t a word for that, is there?” he sighs. “Paranoia is an unreasonable fear. But there isn’t a nice, concise word for a reasonable fear.”
“No,” you concede, “I suppose there isn’t.”
“So if I feel like I’m being victimized by WWE, if I feel like they’ve prevented me from rising to the top of the company, you tell me that I’m being paranoid. But there’s no word for what I think if I’m right.”
It gets to you that he’s right. Everything that you’re supposed to be talking to him about is predicated on the idea that he’s imagining things, that he’s wrong about how the company has been treating him.
“I want to help you, Sami. That’s all I want, I swear. That’s what I’m trained for.”
“You’re a very nice person,” he says with an ironic grin. “I mean, you’re the sort of person they don’t give a lot of information to.”
You want to feel insulted by that but it’s also true: you know that your bosses tell you the least they can before they send you out to meet with talent. The real decisions are made well away from you. Making him believe that you can accomplish something for him involves having to convince him that you have some power, but you’re not sure you’re in any position to do that.
Sami leans forward, amber eyes fixed on yours, and places his hands on your knees.
“What do they tell you to do with me?”
“They don’t tell me anything. They just tell me to talk to you. And you shouldn’t be doing that.”
As you’ve spoken, Sami has pushed your legs apart and has started planting kisses along your thighs. He looks up at you with a petulant expression before pushing his face deeper, breathing hot and quick against your panties, licking at them until they’re as wet on the outside as they are on the inside.
Sami, we can’t be doing this,” you pant, crying out as he sucks against the fabric hard, making your clit quiver.
“Why not?” he hums. “You want it. I want it.”
He presses two fingers roughly inside you, stroking that spot inside you that makes you scream and thrash against him, seeking release. Even with your panties still on, just feeling him lick and suck at you through the cotton barrier, you come with a force you can’t remember experiencing ever. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy as you continue to spasm around him, trembling for long minutes until you’re too overwhelmed and have to shove his hand away because you’re so sensitive that any contact hurts.
“Think about it,” he whispers, pulling himself on top of you, “They send you here to look at me and make sure that I’m good enough to fight, to make money for them. They send you in here with the idea in your head that I’m being irrational, that I’m imagining things.”
He grips your face in his hands, staring into your eyes as he pulls your panties away and thrusts his cock into you. It’s true what he says, you think as he starts to move, although all thought is quickly supplanted by pleasure, by the feeling of him stroking at your g-spot and grunting softly as he fucks you. You simply lock eyes with him and let yourself be overwhelmed by their earnestness and honesty. No one at your job as ever looked as convinced of anything as he does staring into you as you both come together, yelping and gasping, then shaking and clinging to each other as you come down from your highs.
“Do they listen to anything you tell them about me?” he murmurs, gathering you close to him and caressing your face.
You tilt your head back, moaning a little and exposing your throat to him, an invitation he accepts, sucking hard at the flesh. It’s true that no one pays attention to what you say, least of all about him. And it’s true that there does seem to be some sort of weird block they have against pushing Sami and some others to the heights they deserve. You aren’t ready to tell him that but the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze tells you that he doesn’t have any doubt what you’re thinking.
“What else do you have on your schedule this afternoon?” he whispers.
“You’re my only plan.”
“So spend some time with me.” He pushes his head against yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth so quickly it takes you a second to adjust and respond, passionately kissing him back, whimpering and moaning to let him know how much you’re enjoying it.
“I’m really not supposed to do this,” you gasp.
“I know there’s a part of you that believes me,” he pants, letting his detumescent prick slide out of your body. “I can tell you don’t think I’m crazy because I think they’re trying to keep me down. Whatever they sent you here to do, I know that all you want is to end up with what’s right. So I say, this is right. Let’s do what we really want and figure other stuff out later.”
“I don’t know. This is a pretty huge breach of conduct for me. Even if I do think you might be onto something.”
He draws a finger lightly along the edge of your bottom lip.
“If you think I’m onto something, maybe you should stay and figure out if you think I’m worth believing.”
Hours later, you’re in his bed, gripping the sheets with all your might. He’s kneeling, hands dug into your hips so hard that you know there will be bruises before he even lets go. He’s pounding into you with the force of a jackhammer, lifting you so that every movement strokes your g-spot until you convulse around him, screaming his name, your orgasm triggering his own.
You can’t remember how many rounds you’ve had. Your body is like one giant pulsing nerve, quivering uncontrollably as he pulls out of you while pressing his thumb firmly against your clit.
“So do you still think I’m crazy?”
You no longer know what you should think of him. Whatever he’s done, you’ve done far worse. So are you even in a position to judge him? Thinking about what your superiors take from your reports, is there any reason to believe that they have a better grip on the situation than he does?
“I think you’re pretty stressed,” you murmur, pulling him close so that you can nuzzle your face against his. “I think that both of us could do with a break from this company.”
The two of you kiss again, passionately, excitedly, gripping each other as if you were the only stable things in the universe.
Professionally, you’ve done something unforgivable. But perhaps it’s something that will be understandable in the long term. Perhaps you’ve chosen to be on the right side.
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Intrigued
A/N: First fic im posting on tumblr and I’m really new to this, so please! Bear with me whist I try to figure to this out!
Outpost!Michael x reader
My Masterlist
Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, sorta mean Michael, think that’s it?
The days down in Outpost Three were dreadful. You had lost count of the amount of days that had passed a long time ago, and every single room was always uncomfortably cold. The long hallways in the Outpost always made you dizzy, all the twists and turns, some hallways even leading to dead ends.
Right now, you were walking down one of those very hallways, mopping the floors. It was established right when you arrived here together with Timothy and Emily that you were a gray, a worker ant as Venable had said, why they got to purple’s and why you had to be a gray, you had no idea. But, as Ms. Venable had said herself, “The grays serve, and are grateful for the opportunity”
And boy, were you grateful.
You always followed your commands, sometime even doing more than you were asked to. After doing this for every excruciatingly long month down in this hell hole, you eventually became Venable's favorite gray. Or, the gray she hated the least.
Walking down the hallway during dinner time, everything was peaceful, at least as peaceful as it could be down here, you were humming a quiet tune you remember loving from before the bombs dropped.
You didn’t have the chance to finish singing your little song, since you were rudely interrupted by the blaring sound of a harsh alarm being projected from the speakers back in the dining room and the lounging area.
Your body picked up the pace as you continued to mop the floors, desperately trying to finish the damn chore. Once the floors looked pristine enough, you propped your mop up against the wall and bolted down the hallway, aiming to head back to your room.
You didn’t have the chance to make it all the way to your room, since the sound if two different voices cut you off.
“You don't sound like you believe me” you could distinctly hear Venable say. Her tone was light for a change, she even let out a light chuckle.
“Why wouldn't I? To me Seems like you've done a wonderful job. The walls are still standing. Your people are alive and healthy. Which is quite a feat, considering” the second voice said, the voice of a man, but not a man you recognized.
By now, you had propped yourself up against one of the walls, leaning against in with your back to the wall.
“Considering?”
“That three more Outposts have been overrun, and the remaining three won't last through the year”
“Why are you here?” Venable asked him, her voice reeking of confusion, but still holding a certain level of authority.
“Because it's only a matter of time before the same thing happens to you. The good news is, there's another facility, a sanctuary. This one's completely impregnable and stocked with enough supplies to last a decade” the male voice explained, his voice being deep, but at the same time holding some sort of boyish quality to it.
“You're here to take us there” Venable said, thinking she had finished his sentence for him.
“Hmm, I've been assigned to evaluate the people here and select the ones most worthy of survival. I could take all of you or none of you” he retorted, knocking down Venable’s previous confidence boost.
“Those who make it, live and will continue on” he continued; his tone of voice however, soon turned dark, almost eerie sounding.
“Those who don't end up like my horses” he finished; his voice having dropped a few octaves. ��
Only when you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards you, did you hurry down the hallway in the opposite direction you came in. Hoping you weren’t seen.
---
---
You were on your knees, poking at the fireplace in the lounging area. The rest of the occupants were sitting around, seemingly waiting for something, but what, you weren’t quite sure.
Even though your attention was mostly directed at the fireplace, you didn’t fail to hear the insistent clicking of expensive-sounding leather boots coming towards you from behind. From what you had gathered by now, you knew that Ms. Venable was standing behind you, so it couldn’t have been her boots clicking.
The sound stopped right behind you, Venable stepped down from her spot in front of the Outpost's residents. Venable’s hand found its way to your shoulder, grasping tightly, urging you to stand, and face the Outpost’s new found guest.
You did as you were silently instructed, standing up and standing beside Venable. You let you eyes wander to the man you had eavesdropped on last night, and boy was he a sight to see.
He was tall, with long strawberry-blonde hair the reached just below his collarbone. His beautiful crystal-clear blue eyes were scanning the room, looking at every single person inside the room. When his eyes met yours, you could feel you heart flutter and your moth fall slightly open.
Upon catching sight of his entire face, you felt your breath catch in your throat. You let your eyes wander his face, from his hair, to his eyes, to his beautifully sculpted cheekbones, to his jawline and last, but certainly not least, his beautifully plump looking lips.
He quickly averted his gaze, and faced the elites once again, his large hands clasped tightly behind his back.
“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative. I won't sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth. The three other compounds In Syracuse, New York, Beckley, West Virginia, and San Angelo, Texas have been overrun and destroyed. We've had no contact from the six international outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated” Langdon said, your mind drifting back to last night, the conversation he had with Venable.
“What happened to the people inside?” Andre asked as he looked up at Mr. Langdon.
“Massacred. The same fate that will befall almost all of you” he explained.
“Almost all?” you said from beside Mr. Langdon, your breath once again catching in your throat once your eyes met.
“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe The Sanctuary” he said, not breaking eye contact with you.
“The Sanctuary is unique. It has certain security measures that will prevent overruns" he continued to explain, almost sounding annoyed.
“Excuse me, sir. What measures? Why weren't we given them?” Ms. Mead asked, her tone being firm and assertive.
“That's classified. All that matters is that The Sanctuary will survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive” he said while raising his hand to her in a dismissive manner.
“Who are the people who are populating it?” Andre asked again.
“Also classified. However, I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us” Mr. Langdon said, dismissing Andre’s question.
“The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call "Cooperating." I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong” Langdon said jokingly, almost laughing at his own pun.
“What is this, The Hunger Games? This is bullshit. I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I plan on doing” Coco whined out to him, sounding pissed.
“You don't have to sit for questioning” He said with a sigh, clearly annoyed.
“What happens if we choose not to?” Andre prodded.
“Then you stay here and die” He said harshly. The tone in his voice was clear and demining, and you weren’t gonna lie to yourself, he was doing a very good job of turning you on.
“I volunteer to go first” Gallant said while raising his hand high into the air.
“I’m afraid that wont be possible, as I’ve already chosen the order of my interviews. The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever. For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you” Langdon said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of tiny white pills.
---
---
“Come, Mr. Langdon has requested to see you in his office” Ms. Mead said to you as you were finishing up your chores for the night.
“Now? But, I’m not finished with my chores yet” you replied to her’ knowing how mad Venable would be if she found out you didn’t finish your chores.
“Now, Ms. (L/N), he said he didn’t want to be kept waiting” she said. You propped your broom up against the nearest wall and hastily followed her down the corridor.
She led you tov the wide, dark sliding doors at the end of one of the corridors, you had been down there a few times, sweeping the floors and whatnot, but you had never been inside before.
Ms. Mead knocked on the door, but then the door slid open on it’s own, neither Mead or Mr. Langdon had laid a finger on it.
“Ah, come in, I’ve been waiting for you. Ms. Mead, you may leave now” said, ushering you inside and shooing Mead away. She nodded politely and left down the corridor, leaving you and Langdon alone.
“Sit” was all he said as he too, sat down behind the desk by the fireplace. You did as you were told, sitting down in front of him, keeping you eyes on the ground.
“Do I scare you?” He asked. You shook your head in response, eyes still on the ground. You heard him getting up from his chair and stalking around the desk to stand in front of you.
His fingers curled themselves around your chin, lifting your face to look at him. You could see his eyes wandering you face, then down the entirety of your body. At this point, you could feel just how much this man was turning you on, and all he had done was talk.
“You’re not quite like the others here, are you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” you whimpered, thoroughly confused, but at the same time, insanely turned on. He hummed, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, parting you lips slightly.
“You’re so willing” ha said as he let go of your chin and leaned back into the desk, almost sitting on it.
“Willing?” you asked him, now looking at his handsome face willingly.
“Yes, willing. Willing to serve, eager to please” he said, and you couldn’t really dent it either.
“I guess” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say.
Langdon pushed himself off the desk with his hips, casually stepping to the side, facing you.
“Sit on the desk for me, can you that?” he said with mock sweetness in his tone, but you knew he wasn’t joking. You nodded your head and did as you were told, gently climbing onto the dark wooden desk and squeezing your thighs together once you had gotten situated on the desk.
“Good girl” he said, but as soon as those words left his lips, you could feel a new flood of arousal was over you, positively soaking your plain cotton underwear. He walked over to you placing his hands on your knees and prying your legs apart, coming to stand between them.
His hands trailed up your thighs, coming to rest on you hips. Your breathing was heavy, and you were positive that Langdon could hear you heart thump in your chest.
“Nervous?” he chuckled while sliding his hands along you waistline. This time, you nodded while slightly squirming under his warm hands. He chuckled a little at your response and reached behind you to undo the tie on your apron, tugging it off you and letting it fall to the floor.
He continued, once again reaching behind you, unzipping your gray dress, pulling the top part of it off of you, exposing your plain cotton bra to him. His hand soon found it’s way to your throat, pushing you back to lay down on the desk.
“Now, you do know that it’s very rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, right?” he laughed, somehow, he knew about how you had accidently listened in to his and Venable’s previous conversation.
“I-I’m s-sorry” you whimpered, finding talking a bit difficult due to his hand being coiled around your throat. He harshly let go of you throat as he started to rid himself of his own clothing, first his lavish jacket, then his undershirt, then his belt.
His bare chest was now on full display, and you were definitely enjoying the view.
“Sadly, ‘I-I’m s-sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, pet” he said, mocking your previous whimpers. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your gray uniform, pulling it off your body, dragging your panties down along with the rest of you uniform.
He stepped in between your thighs again, your glistening cunt now on full display for him. “I’ve barely touched you, and you already so fucking wet for me, dirty girl” you whimpered at his words, becoming even more turned on than you already were.
He reached behind your back and undid your bra, with some difficulty. Now you laid on his desk, completely nude in front of this gorgeous man who was currently unzipping his expensive-looking dress pants.
He let his pants drop to the floor, along wit his boxers, exposing him fully to you.
“Tell me what you want, pet. Naughty girls have to beg to get what they want” he teased as he slid two of his fingers along your slick folds, urging you to call out and beg for him.
“Please…” you whimpered out quietly, color flooding your face out of embarrassment. He grabbed ahold of you thighs, pulling half of your ass off the desk, giving him better access to you.
He raised his hand and brought it down onto your bare ass, hard, making you yelp.
“You can do better than that, pet. Now beg. Beg for me to fuck you” he said, it was more of a demand than an instruction.
“Please! Please, f-fuck me, please Mr. Langdon, please” you said, heightening your voice so he could hear you more clearly. He lowered his head down to your stomach, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your abdomen, teasing you further.
“Good girl, I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” he asked, once again faking that sugary-sweet tone. You nodded your head as fast as you could just wanting him inside you. He came up from your stomach, grabbing ahold of his cock jerking himself a few times, spreading some of his precum onto himself, though you doubted is was necessary.
He lined the head of his cock up with your drenched entrance and slowly pushing into you. One painfully thick inch out of time. His hands wandered from your waist to one hand tightly gripping your throat to the other holding a bruising grip on your hip.
One he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he let out low growling-kind of noise, making you clench around him. He gave you very little time to adjust to his size, since he soon began pounding into you at a ruthless pace. Your moaning was loud, and you were sure that if you didn’t shut up soon, the entirety of the Outpost would hear just how good this man was making you feel.
“You’ve gotta stay quiet for me, okay pet?” all you could do was nod you head in response, but you didn’t seem to be keeping your promise, since you didn’t quiet down. Langdon put both his hands on your waist, leaning down and planting his lips over yours, effectively shutting you up.
His lips were soft, just as soft as they looked. They moved against your lips in perfect sync. The feeling of his lips on yours was almost orgasmic on its own.
You could feel a certain pressure building up in your lower abdomen, and you knew you orgasm was creeping up on you. Langdon must have felt it too, since he soon detached his lips from yours and slowed his pace significantly.
“Don't you dare cum before I say you can. Now, show Daddy just how much you want to cum” he instructed, making you pulse slightly around his cock.
“Please! Please Daddy, I want to cum on your cock, I wanna cum so bad, please!” you begged him for your release, and apparently, that was enough for him, because he came back to his previous pace with a passionate fury.
Thrusting his cock into you as hard as he possibly could, he seemingly stopped caring about just how loud you were being. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, and that was quite enough for you to start clenching around him as your orgasm washed over you.
Because of how much you had tightened around him, Langdon couldn’t hold back his own orgasm either. With a few more hard thrusts, his cock twitched inside you once again as he released his cum deep inside you, filling you to the brim, some of it leaking out and dripping down and onto the floor.
Both of your breaths were heavy, you were borderline panting at this point, but he was also breathing heavily, his face buried in your neck, leaving gentle little kisses along your throat.
“Is this part of my test?” you whimpered out weakly, his cock still hard inside you, twitching and pulsing.
“Isn’t everything?” he asked breathlessly, coming up from your neck to look into your eyes once again, still breathing heavily.
“Well, then do I pass?” you ask, feeling a single tear run down the side of your face.
“Yes, you’ll be coming back with me, pet”
#michael langdon#michael langdon smut#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon x reader smut#outpost!michael#ahs apocolaypse#ahs#cody fern#smut#x reader smut
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The Billionaire Alpha's Secret Baby novel read online - Grace Jones and Connor Shelby - Bravonovel
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0253273eccc05fbe1bb0fcb561795658/7c18d8c59c36adc6-ce/s250x250_c1/0813bb264afa10aea612aa25dc368c2d874fec73.jpg)
The Billionaire Alpha's Secret Baby
https://www.bravonovel.com/the-billionaire-alphas-secret-baby-8246
The Billionaire Alpha's Secret Baby novel is a romance story about Grace Jones and Connor Shelby.
Blurb : Still reeling from the heartbreak of being abandoned by someone she called her mate after a one night stand, Grace Jones gets a more shocking discovery. She was pregnant. To her horror, she was carrying the child of someone whose name she didn’t even know. Seven years later, Grace saves a young billionaire from the brink of death who also turned out to be someone from her past. After what happened to her seven years ago she loathed men. For someone she felt was her mate to abandon her like that what else could they not do? Alpha Connor Shelby! The CEO of SHELBY REALTOR (UK) LTD, and the Alpha of Lumia pack had his fate intertwined with a rankless wolf and a single mother. Will he accept her? Ride along as we journey through the story of a rankless wolf with a child falling in love an Alpha of a reputable pack and the CEO of the company that took everything from her.
You can read this novel online on Bravonovel and keep track of the latest chapters
The Billionaire Alpha's Secret Baby novel Chapter 1
ARIZONA COLLEGE
SEVEN YEARS AGO
GRACE
In silence we studied each other on a bed, evaluating, doubting, and considering by turns, because it was so sudden, so unexpected.
We were merely strangers turned drink buddies few hours ago. We didn' t even know our names yet. He only jokingly called me Ms. Budweiser because I said I loved beer more, while I laughed hard and loud, calling him Mr. Chardonnay because he said he only drank wine.
But I and my friends made him take beer . It was a way to apologize for bumping into him and ruining his white T-shirt.
I was going to get another round of drink while he was heading to the rest room as I could remember it. However due to my crazy hurrying, and the excitement of our finals, I had bumped into him and caused him to spill his drink on himself and at the same time holding me from tripping over.
He snaked his firm hand around my waist to keep me steady and our eyes locked.
At that instant, the world suddenly went silent, the deafening music from blaring speakers around us became a distant sound to me
His steel-grey heart-stopping eyes drew me in and drowned me. My head swooned, my heart beat took an unnatural speed, jamming itself against my ribcage. Thousands of angry butterflies sprang up in my stomach, fluttering like they were being chased by a predator.
All that happened at once.
If I was reading my experience in a romance novel, I'd sneer and scowl at the writer for being unnecessarily corny and cheeky. I'd call the book a cliché but still go ahead to read it.
However, this particular cliché wasn' t happening to some lucky female protagonist.
It was happening to me, Grace, the nerdy, boring twenty three year old virgin who was about graduating college without a boyfriend or a mate.
Not that I had one before and broke up with them for some reasons. At all. I never had any.
I would have called what just happened'a love at first sight' and I was sure he would have too, owing to the way he kept his eyes on mine for the thousands of seconds our eyes locked.
Or have I finally found my mate? I wondered vaguely. Finding one's mate was one of the most difficult thing now in the twenty-first century werewolf kingdom. People just get themselves partners and call them boyfriends or girlfriend or wives or husbands and humans did since we were sharing almost the same fate.
After our bump, we had muttered repeated sorrys to each other with effusive awkward gestures. I couldn't let him go like that after all that chemistry between us, so I had come out from my shell of shyness and awkwardness and asked him to join me and my friends on our drinking table.
Now here we are, in my dimly lit tiny college room, inhaling each other's breathe, with our eyes locked and our breathing accelerated, standing so close our noses could meet. We were both drunk but knew this feeling wasn't instigated from alcohol.
I wanted him and wasn't ashamed for the first time in my life to admit it. I had vowed never to do it till I found the one that made my heart flutter in my chest. Or if I found my mate.
I wasn' t sure about the latter, but my heart was a living testimony of the effect of this young beautiful man standing in front of me.
I took two steps backward, to get a fuller and more concise view of the first man I was going to share my bed with.
He was many inches taller than I was, literally towering over me with his firmly squared broad shoulders. Strands of his dark brown hair which fell across his temples accentuated his sexiness. His oblong angular face was never the type I could forget in a hurry.
Should I go on about his full lips and how it interrupts my breathing whenever I stare at them?
As we stood few inches apart, I yearned to press my lips against that bare skin that ran from his throat to his chest and my breast against that white stained shirt.
With a sigh that was really surrender, I ignored my racing heart and took a step further.
We looked at each other and then our lips met and lingered. I felt myself sinking into the bliss of the sweetest sensations and my hands came up on their own to touch his face. I knew I was desired but, just for the moment, I felt loved and it was what I needed.
We both knew it would have been okay to wait, get to know each other and talk more, however, we both also knew we couldn't wait. This felt too right. I didn't feel a single pang of guilt or the need to be cautious.
He didn't give me a chance to change my mind.
He crushed my body to his, one hand on my back, the other on my hips, pressing me against his hard body. I gasped with sheer pleasure and then to my horror, I began to tremble. This was the first time and I wasn 't familiar with the moves and I felt awkward, unable to respond as I wanted to.
“Hey…” he murmured against my hair and his arms loosened, as though he understood, as though he was well aware of the fact that he was my very first. He began to stroke my hair gently, persuasively, so that my eyes closed and I began to relax.
His hands moved to my back, beginning an unhurried exploration that made me shiver again, but this time in the most delicious manner .
I began to respond, my hands sliding up his back and across his shoulders in a thrilling exploration of my own. I opened my eyes, saw his throat where the collar was open and pressed my lips against it. I felt a deep shudder run through him that might have been my own, so deeply did it thrill him. I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair and used it to pull his face down to mine.
Our lips met and fused with an ecstasy that seared me to the depth of my being. We broke apart and gazed at each other, and then he was pressing kisses all over my face and I held my head back to expose my throat for more. I was awash with sensation, but it only built up the urgency for our lips to meet again... and again.
His hands were on the zip at the back of my dress and I began to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged out of it as I stepped out of my dress and kicked it away in a frenzy, and he pressed me against his chest again with only the fragile silk of my slip between us.
He kissed his way down my neck, to my shoulders and slid the straps from them. The slip caught at my hips, but none of us noticed because now, my bare breasts were pressed against his naked chest and we both gasped.
He turned me slightly from him, lifting his face to kiss and then his hands moved down to my breast, grasping, massaging it and then playing with my nipple. My groan of pleasure was lost against his lips and, as I felt my legs go weak, he picked me up and carried me unto my bed.
He kicked back his shoes, threw back the quilt, put me on the bed and stood looking down at me while he took off the rest of his clothes.
The curtains hadn't been closed and a surprisingly bright moon bathed us both in a silvery glow.
"Do you know how lovely you are?" he asked as he lay beside me.
He didn't expect an answer, and I was quite incapable of giving one because his mouth had fastened on to my breast and his tongue was flicking my nipples into a frenzy of desire. He moved to the other breast and the delicious torment began anew.
“Chardonnay…” I breathed, but he took no notice, sliding the petticoat from my hips, and then my stockings and suspenders, and kissing his way over the warm flesh he exposed.
"Chardonnay…" I breathed again, writhing with the most exquisitely unendurable ecstasy I had ever known, but now his own passion overwhelmed him as he entered me, going in real slow and when my core gave passage to his huge member, he began thrusting hard and desperately in the need to quench his own fires.
I held fiercely, pressing his hips against mine as we sought and found the final explosion of passion.
Mr. Chardonnay kissed me with hot, spent and grateful lips and then he collapsed against me , moving down to rest his face between my breasts. I pulled the quilt over us and cuddled him to myself while out breathing turned to normal.
It was a long time before he stirred, then he rolled off my body and propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me.
"I'm crazy about you, Ms. Budweiser," he said huskily. "How do you feel about me?"
I couldn't answer. The whole thing was feeling so surreal to me. "I'm here, and I 'm not a one-night stander." was my response.
"We don't even know each other's real names yet. I'm-"
"Tomorrow," I cut him short with a sleepy tone. "Let's tell each other our names tomorrow and other things we should know about us." I said with finality in my voice.
He sighed.
But he wouldn't understand. Seeing him on my bed by morning when I wake up was going to convince me that this wonderful moments weren't a dream. And that I had found the love of my life.
I had gone through college as a nerdy boring girl without a mate or a boyfriend and a werewolf with zero rank. If not for my two best friends, my life would have been more than the hell it had been here in Stratford College.
But here I was on the last day of my final year making love with the most beautiful man I had ever met, who could possibly be my mate or boyfriend after today.
I felt giddy with happiness and relief. It was all too fast and going too well , I was dreading disappointments.
“Let's know each other wolf's name at least.” he murmured, dragging me from my train of thoughts.
I pushed him over on his back, then propped myself over him, my breast brushing against his chest. "I don't want to talk tonight. Tomorrow will do. Go to sleep." I kissed his eyes shut and then studied, and it almost hurt me how handsome he looked with his face relaxed and the moon turning the sun-bleached ends of his brown hair to silver.
I kissed his forehead, clasped my eyes shut and let myself drown into dream land.
…...
Continue to read the chapter 2 of the novel The Billionaire Alpha's Secret Baby https://www.bravonovel.com/the-billionaire-alphas-secret-baby-8246/chapter-2-194222
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Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 22)
Hello, happy Friday. There’s a chance I may take next week off and skip posting. I’m going through some things with my daughter’s education and my grandmother’s health and I just... don’t know. I’m having to go to battle to try and get my daughter the special education resources and evaluations she’s promised by law because the school is too lazy to do it and I don’t do confrontation well.
Masterlist here. Feel free to buy me a Ko-fi
Clint x ofc
Series rating: Mature
Chapter warnings: Sexual content and themes. Disney songs.
Chapter 22: Radar
There was some fussing in the living room. Clint stifled a chuckle as best he could. Dee went to pull away but he held her closer, waiting to see if the fussing baby would settle back into sleep or if she would work herself up. A louder squawk sounded from the living room instead.
“I’ll go, you get a shower in.” He smiled down at her and for a moment, she wondered if this is what it could be like, if they kept baby Elsa and turned their back on the world. But that wasn’t right and the pains of being in this house still stabbed at her.
When she agreed, Clint dipped his head and placed a soft kiss to her lips. She didn’t want to shower inside the farmhouse. She didn’t want to do much of anything inside it. It didn’t matter what she did, she always felt like a guest inside another woman’s home.
After her shower, the sound of soft humming drew her down the hall and toward the living room. Clint was humming to the little bundle wrapped in a blanket. His bare back and arms looked so warm and soft in the glow from the woodstove. How could he look so soft when she knew he was nothing but firm muscle?
“You’re a magnificent dad.” She spoke loud enough for him to hear her but not disturb the sleeping baby when their eyes met.
“Babies are great.” He responded. “Sure, they cry. They are tiny factories of poop and vomit but the future is inside of them. The babies will take this shitty thing we’ve let happen, shitty world we’ve made for them, and they’ll make something great out of it.”
“See, magnificent.” She smiled at him.
“But I’m not a dad, not anymore.” His shoulders slumped as he set the bundle down in the crib.
“You’re still every bit a dad as I am a mother. Just because they’re gone doesn’t change that.” As she spoke, she went to his side. Looking down at the bundle, sleeping safe and warm, she rested her hand on his back. It was easier sometimes, to not look at him.
“That would mean I’m still a husband.” The thought stabbed at her heart as he said it.
“You are, in many ways.” She admitted. “And to Laura, you will always be. But she’s not here. We’re parents with no one to parent. You’re a husband with no wife. But does it matter, really? They won’t come back and that won’t change. So we move on.”
“What if I can’t?”
“But you are.” She wrapped her arms around him as he turned to face her. “You’re moving on a little each day. Just like I am. But that part of who we were will always be there.”
“Will it always hurt?” He felt dumb for asking her that. He was the one that had faced battles and waded through the resulting death. He’d lost comrades and allies over the years. She was just her, a normal woman. But somehow, she seemed like she had all the wisdom of the world, locked in her heart.
“Yes.” It hurt her to say it. “But every year it will hurt less and less.”
“How do you know?” He nuzzled into her, clinging to her.
“Because, I still grieved the loss of my marriage, of what could have been. I still miss my parents, though they died a long time ago. Time doesn’t erase the wounds but it heals, leaving behind a scar.”
Her fingers traced over a scar that marred his chest. He'd told her that it sometimes ached when the weather turned bad, though he rarely complained.
“We just have to learn to live with the pain from the scars.”
“I’m used to living with pain.” Silence ticked on before she decided it was best to let these thoughts go for the night. It was better that they move on.
“She’s asleep. We should get some sleep too.”
Clint gave her that boyish grin and he melted her heart. He had that amazing ability to go from sullen and serious to cheerful and full of life at a moment’s notice. It worried her, kept her on her toes at times but she loved him for it. He was always trying to walk on the positive side of the street. Sure, sometimes he stopped and sat in the shadows for a short rest, he always would move on.
He swept her up and she squealed as she found herself tossed over his shoulder. He shushed her and walked with a bounce in his step, making her flop a bit. She tired and failed to ignore the hand holding her steady, gripping her around her thigh, holding tightly right below where her legs joined. He kicked the door closed behind him and tossed her on the bed.
At some point, he had slipped into the room and lit scented candles, giving the room a warm glow. He must have done it while she was in the shower, before tending to Elsa.
She bounced and laughed. The mattress was soft, considering Clint had said it was a guest room bed. She’d never had any nice beds in any of her guestrooms. But, she guessed Clint had enough money that having a good guestroom was something he could afford. The house didn’t scream money but it was there in the details. It was the little things like the comfortable bed or the high end washing machine that gave hint to what he had.
“Come here and get your Christmas present.” She said, propping herself up on her elbows. It was, by far, the cheesiest line she had ever said in her life. But Clint laughed regardless as he crawled over the bed.
“What’s my present?” He asked as he loomed over her.
Leaning down, he nuzzled the crook of her neck. There was a shift in him tonight. Or was it a shift in them both? A weight was off his shoulders or maybe he was using that weight to hold down the ghosts in his memories. She had been joking, mostly, but he seemed to grab a hold of the offer like it was a lifeline. Part of her felt guilty for it, but she found herself needing the reassurance in his touches.
“Is this my present?” he asked, planting a warm kiss on the skin. “Or this?” He asked, kissing higher on her neck as she wrapped her arms around him.
“It could be. What do you have for me?” She joked but feared she had said something wrong when he pulled back, sitting with his weight on his hip and supporting himself with one hand. His other rested on her hip.
“Nothing at all.” He admitted, yet there was a soft smile on his face. “Except, everything I have.” His hand moved from her hip to rest on her cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin of her lips. It all felt like it was moving too fast yet somehow still perfect. “Everything I am, in all my broken glory.”
“Just what I wanted for Christmas.” She ran her palm up his arm and down his chest.
Their lips found each other and what had at first started as a sweet kiss quickly turned heated. Lips moved against one another as hands explored the bodies of the other. Clint clung to her as he sifted, putting more of himself above her.
Fingers took in the firm planes of his muscular back and chest. Under her touch, muscle jumped and bunched. The feeling was almost as intoxicating as the way he kissed her. Eventually, he must have needed air because his lips pulled from hers. She couldn’t dwell on it though, his lips found her neck. He worked his way down, only stopping when he found the place that made her squirm.
“Clint.” She whined, arching into his touch. His hand slipped under the small of her back and he held her. Warmth radiated down from his bare chest. It was a warmth that seeped down into the very core of her, feeding a fire she hadn’t felt in many years.
His hand explored her legs, taking in the length of them. Any stubble that may have grown since she last shaved seemed not to phase him at all. It was a ridiculous thing to even think of when they world has ended, yet she still tried to keep up her shaving. His hand left a trail of fire behind.
She’d felt uncomfortable most of the time she was in this house but in this moment, she didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. She could have been anywhere, any room in any home or out in the open. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care. All she cared about was the fire in her stomach, fanned by his breath on her skin and the feeling of his fingertips.
When his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt, she couldn’t even think about how she didn’t care where she was anymore. As his hand explored her stomach and ribs, hers continued to take in every bit of his skin she could reach.
Blunt nails scratched at his scalp and back. Her shirt inched higher and higher as he shifted to kiss along her stomach. After having two kids, she had been insecure about the slight swell and the pale stripes that shimmered against her skin at places. Like everything else, Clint seemed to accept her body with eager glee. She guessed that the body of a mother wasn’t something he was a stranger to, his wife had birthed children as well.
The thought stabbed at her for a moment, a bitter reminder of the home they were in. But that stab was soothed almost instantly by his mouth, lips placing an opened mouth kiss over a clothed nipple in a searing kiss. A man like him, he could have had anyone. Even now, he could have been in New York and in bed with any runway model that survived but he was here. He was where he felt like he was needed.
Now there was a place he was needed even more. Rushing hands slipped between them and she set to work undoing his pants. He was almost where she needed him. The only way the moment could be better was if he was where she needed him in that very second. He moaned when her fingers wrapped around his shaft.
“I need you,” She panted, pumping him slowly as she used her legs to work his pants further down his hips. “inside me.”
He sounded like he choked at those words, a strangled groan left him. “There is no where else I’d rather be.”
He worked her bottoms down, not leaving either of them a moment to overthink. He was rather thick and heavy in her hand as she guided him to her entrance. The feeling of his head pressing against her opening was better than she had expected.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Please.” She begged. “I need you. I need this.”
He inched himself inside her at a painfully slow pace. A breath was pushed from her lungs as he was finally seated inside her. Had it always felt so good to have a man inside her? Her toys never left her feeling so full. It was the greatest feeling she had experienced in a very long time. Still, it left her wanting more.
“I swear, normally I take my time before getting inside.” He teased as he pulled her legs higher, opening her wider and somehow slipping deeper.
The bed creaked as he pulled back before once again slowly slipping deep again. Each time he withdrew, he did so a little faster. And every thrust forward was faster than the last. Every move he made left her wanting more.
Pushing herself up on her elbow, she wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him. He pulled back, using the arm behind her back to pull her up with him. There wasn’t a moment when his strength didn’t amaze her.
He sat back, supporting their combined weight with her in his lap, riding him. He inched them forward, moving a little with each thrust until he could reach out and grab the headboard. That allowed him to be more stable as he held her up by the large hand planted in the center of her back.
Each thrust up into her it hard in all the ways she needed and all she could do was hold onto him. Her legs were wrapped around him tightly as her fingers ran through his hair. His hair had gotten longer, since they’d met and she loved to run her fingers through it.
It took a bit for her feet to find the mattress but once she did, she pushed forward. Clint went willingly enough, falling onto his back. He had thought she looked magical below him and glorious held up in his arms. Somehow, the sight of her perched atop him, knees on either side of his hips was even better.
Candle light danced warmly over her skin, shimmering against stretchmarks and scars. He reached out and took her soft hips in his hands. She was soft in all the best places. When his hands cupped her breasts, he found them as heavy and full as he had always thought.
She rocked her hips and indulged in the way he groaned. When she rose up over him only to sink slowly down his shaft, he outright moaned. It was the best thing she had heard in a very long time. It was a sound she wanted to make him make again and again even if it meant putting off getting herself off a bit longer.
The way the moved together was magical. They each used their body to push their partner closer to their peaks. The bed softly creaked as they moved atop it and soft moans filled the room. The wooden wicks of some of the candles crackled in the air. They were each close now, so close.
At first they didn’t hear it, the sound was lost in the sea of sensations. But than the soft fussing gave way to a shrill cry. The cry garbled and ended with a sneeze as they both froze.
He twitched inside her as each second of silence ticked on. She rolled her hips and he gasped below her. The coil was still there, wrapped tight around her insides but was fading. A warm hand inched closer to her core. A shrill cry pieced the air once again and was quickly followed by a second and third cry.
“Oh god dammit.” Dee whined.
“Give her a minute, she might settle again?” Clint offered only to have the wails of a baby continue to fill the air.
“She’s not.” Deanna laughed, slipping off of him and rolling onto her side. “Babies have a radar- they know when sex is happening.”
“You think?” Clint tried not to laugh while reaching off the edge of the bed for his pants. Dee grabbed his shirt from earlier in the day off the floor from where it sat with his jeans.
“For sure. Babies don’t want want competition too early. All the attention. Greedy little shits.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Shall we see to the little snow princess?”
“Isn’t Elsa the queen?” Clint gave her a look as he opened the door.
“Is she?” Dee asked, slipping out of the room and leading the way to the living room. “I have seen that movie like a million times and I somehow managed to avoid memorizing it.”
“Let it go!” Clint sang, reaching down into the crib. As he scooped up the little bundle, he sang the line again.
“Stop.” Dee complained, a wide smile on her face and a laugh giving way to her voice. “I’ll get a bottle going. Just stop singing the cursed song before it gets stuck in my head.”
As Clint sang the cursed song, she made her way into the kitchen and set to work on that bottle. His voice was soft and carried well. It surprised her that he had such a good singing voice considering the gravel and warmth in his speaking voice. Was there anything he couldn’t do?
As she made it back into the living room, she noticed something odd. On the mantle, above the wood stove insert fireplace was a line of photos, smiling children’s faces looking out at her. Clint was in many of the photos but their mother was missing. Deanna smiled, she knew what it was like to be the one always behind the camera, always taking the pictures.
One of those photos was sitting face down. In the pit of her stomach, she knew what that photo would be. It was larger than the rest and the silvered frame was far more elegant than the others, to the point of being somewhat out of place. She knew better but she couldn’t stop her hand as it reached out.
Trembling fingers lifted the frame, revealing what she knew she’d see. Clint looked so much younger, back then. How long had they been married? That boyish grin she had seen so many times before had a different light to it, a pure joy. He wore a tuxedo, something she couldn’t imagine him ever wearing again.
And Laura? God, she was beautiful. A vision of a bride with her hair pulled back and waves trailing behind her. She had dark brown hair and Deanna imagined she was the type of women who didn’t see herself as others did. She looked like a picture perfect wife and mother.
~~~~~<3
Tag List: @winterisakiller, @usedtobegoodfriend96, @acoholic-muffin, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @carissime72, @myoxisbroken, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @tnystrk-exe
#clint x original character#clint x original female character#clint barton smut#clint x ofc#clint x oc#clint barton x oc
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junkenstein’s revenge prologue
Nanowrimo day 14 Featuring McCree, Hanzo, 76 and Zenyatta Ye olde Sci-Fi/horror Overwatch, violence, gore, ZOMBLES, death Unfinished and unedited
“Hail!” The gunslinger’s voice echoed off the stone walls of Adlersbrunn’s gatehouse. His horse shifted nervously, her hooves adding to the mild cacophony. The gates were closed and the quietude which reigned over it all unsettled the man, if only a little. A storm was brewing and the pregnant silence before it always charged him in a way nothing else could. He adjusted his hat, tipping it back, to peer upward, wanting to be inside before the maelstrom broke upon him.
He knew darn well no one would be opening those gates before sunrise, but the least they could offer was a place in the guard house. He was an honest hunter, plying his trade. His quarry was not stag or boar, however, but something much more sinister. Whispers of such prey had summoned him to this part of the world, in fact.
“Who goes there?” A voice shouted down with sharp, menacing volume, almost like a bark.
“A gunslinger, lookin’ for lodging for the night… an’ maybe some work.”
The face which peered over the wall spared him only a glance before retreating. “We’re full! Come back when the sun is up!”
As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance and the low-hanging clouds which had been threatening all day seemed to move. “Have mercy on a traveler,” he pled calmly with the now-disembodied voice. “Ain’t it the custom in these parts to give aid and succor to weary pilgrims?”
“So you’re on a spiritual journey now, eh?” The voice sounded skeptical, but a little guilty for leaving the man outside.
“In a manner, I s’pose I am,” he tossed back, a toothy grin on his handsome face. He could almost hear the conflict which raged within the gate guard. How many had come seeking shelter this evening? Was the place really full, or did the guard simply not want to admit anyone? He had not long to wait, however. A golden sliver of light made itself known where the door creaked open a little ways, just enough for the occupant to see who was outside.
The gunslinger dismounted, holding his beast’s reins in one hand and touching the brim of his hat with the other. “Hail,” he repeated. The door opened slowly and the guard stepped out, armored and tired-looking.
“You’re the fourth one tonight,” he groaned. “Forgive my impoliteness, won’t you?”
“Long as ya let me an’ my mare in, I’ll let ya drink straight outta my flask, stranger,” promised the gunslinger. The guard seemed to brighten at the sound of the word and he eagerly reached out for the mare’s reins. The beast stood calmly as the hunter of dark things passed them over to the guard, who gestured that the traveler should head right inside.
“It won’t be but a moment. Your bunk mates are inside.”
The gunslinger doffed his hat and moved into that warm, golden light just as the first droplets of rain began to hit the ground. From within, the sound was a cleansing, gentle sort of thing; outside, he was sure it would have been droning and monotonous.
A merry fire crackled further in the gatehouse and three individuals sat dispersed about the room, conversing in low tones. These conversations pulled up short as the man entered, spurs jingling, buckles clinking and leather creaking as he moved. “Hail,” he repeated for the third time that evening. “Well met, I hope?”
“Well met, indeed,” came the serene, almost jovial intonation of a strange-looking man whom the gunslinger now realized was hovering a few feet off the ground. His proportions were difficult to gauge, given his posture, but he gave the impression of being quite tall, should he have decided to stand. “Welcome to Adlersbrunn, Mr….”
“McCree,” said McCree, “an’ you?”
“Zenyatta,” replied the doll-like man. In the light of the fire, his beauty was haunting, his face a gentle mask of calm knowledge. The name was as unique as his appearance.
“There’s usually a last name attached, though I’m guessing that is your last name, isn’t it?” The surly voice did not surprise McCree, given that it came from a white-haired gentleman who looked to be in his sixties. His build was something altogether else. He stood and offered a hand and the two were about eye-to-eye. “Good to hear those drawling consonants, though,” admitted the man with a similar accent that marked him as a countryman, but which was sharp enough to differentiate the region of his origin. “John Morrison, friends call me Jack.”
“Jesse,” supplied McCree, shaking the man’s hand with firm vigor. Their camaraderie was evident already, which brought a sigh of relief and a draining of tension from the gunslinger. The fourth and final occupant of the room had, however, not volunteered his name or hand. McCree’s eyes settled upon him.
The man was watching the exchange with sharp, dark eyes. His beard and mustache were manicured to perfection and the scar-like quality of his mouth told McCree that he would be the tough nut to crack. “Howdy,” said the gunslinger disarmingly. He noted the weapon propped nearby, a fearsome recurve bow that did not look like it was from these parts. In fact, the entirety of the man’s presentation, from his carriage to the incredibly elaborate tattoo on his arm suggested to Jesse McCree that this stranger, too, was from far, far away.
“Hmm,” came the man’s response as he looked McCree up and down. His eyes alone settled on the gunslinger’s left arm. He tucked it back a little, resting it more thoroughly beneath his cloak. “How do you do?”
The stranger’s voice was accented as well, but as McCree had first assumed, not in the way the gate guard’s had been. They were possibly the most diverse group that poor man had seen in his entire time of service. It was probably jarring, but McCree was intrigued.
“Glad t’be outta the rain, Mr…” He would allow the stranger to fill his name in as Zenyatta had done to him. The stranger did not. He looked hard at the gunslinger, as if evaluating him. “That’d be the part where ya tell me yer name,” suggested McCree, not without humor. The other two seemed entertained by this, but did not engage, preferring to watch. Morrison returned to his seat at a small table and Zenyatta remained where he was.
“It would,” admitted the stranger, “if I cared to give it. I do not.”
“Well ain’t that just a kick in the ol’ hindquarters!” McCree was not put off by this. If anything, he was more intrigued than ever before. It was only presently that he realized how long the guardsman was taking with his horse and his suspicion as a hunter which drew him away from the bow-wielding stranger to wonder after the guard.
“Johann is taking quite a long time with your mount, Mr. McCree,” observed Zenyatta, doing exactly what McCree thought he might and hovering over, his feet never touching the ground. Fortunately for Zenyatta and all assembled, Jesse McCree had seen many strange things in his lifetime. Pretty, hovering monks were not the strangest.
“I’m gunna check it out,” said McCree. “You fellas stay put; that rain sounds bad.”
Morrison shifted, not liking to be told what to do, but liking the pain in his joints from the change in pressure even less, and liking to admit it least of all. He stayed where he was. The stranger in the corner, too, did not move. Only Zenyatta refused.
“Rain is an act of cleansing sent by the heavens,” he said, gesturing upward with one long, uncomfortably perfect finger. “It will do me no harm.”
McCree noticed the rosary about his neck and wondered of what those beads were made. They were large and appeared heavy. He thought that if he wore something like that, he would bruise. The monk did not seem bothered in the least by their presence, or McCree’s glance. His hands remained folded before him.
“‘Preciate the comp’ny,” admitted the gunslinger, ducking out into the downpour.
Lightning arced overhead and split the night, followed by a violent peal of thunder. McCree heard his horse squeal over the din and caught the sound of clattering hooves at the last moment before she nearly ran him down in her effort to escape. He tossed himself aside, rolling through the mud to avoid her mad dash. As she passed, McCree caught the whites of the poor beast’s eyes and sent up a prayer that she would get far enough away from whatever was scaring her like that.
It was only after seeing her flee this way that McCree remembered he was not alone. “Zenyatta!” He called out to the monk over the roaring storm, turning to see if the monk was behind him or if he had been trampled by the mad beast. He was quite unharmed, but seemed to have frozen to the spot, gentle eyes wide, serene expression all but gone.
McCree turned to see what had caught the monk’s attention and was horrified to witness a shambling, twitching thing coming at him. It was not quick, but it also was not alone. The baleful light in its eyes was joined by others and, despite the downpour, gore was still stuck to faces, chests, and hands. Johann, he thought, dear god.
Energy arced from them, mimicking the lightning overhead, but holding an ugly, supernatural quality that made a shiver run down McCree’s stout spine. He felt on his belt for a flash powder ampoule, determined to drive these things back. His fingers shook, however, and he could not grasp what he sought. One of the creatures raised an arm to strike him.
Something whizzed past the gunslinger’s head, narrowly missing his ear but taking the shambling thing full in the face and near knocking its head off. The blow did enough damage that the monster fell back, twitched once, and lay still. This shocked McCree back into action and he found and tossed the ampoule he’d sought and fanned the hammer of his six-shooter, bringing down two more of the inexorably marching things before retreating back to Zenyatta.
“What are they?” McCree heard himself shouting this over the storm, which seemed determined not to allow conversation. Zenyatta shook his head, a strange expression passing over his features before the passive mask returned. He lifted a hand and, to McCree’s wonder and astonishment, one of the gigantic beads of the monk’s rosary lifted with it. A subtle gesture, barely more than a twitch sent the ball hurtling toward its next target, hitting it dead center in the head and snapping it back.
It fell, but was replaced by another and another. Zenyatta sent two, three more balls into the throng. These projectiles returned somehow, though McCree could not ascertain the method. He was fascinated but understood what little time they had should be spent in retreat, rather than conversation about weaponry and the practical use of psychokinetic magic, for that was surely what this was. McCree was not well schooled in that branch, but he had heard of it and had even witnessed it a time or two. Never, in all his days, however, had he seen it weaponized to such deadly effect.
He was suddenly grateful for the previously observed size and weight of them now. “Thanks,” he grunted, “now let’s git ourselves inside an’ barricade the door.”
They would not be safe until they were within the town proper, but the risk of allowing those things in was too great. The citizens of Adlersbrunn would not be ready for the onslaught which McCree had begun to realize was much, much larger than first anticipated. Well, he thought, ya came here t’hunt dark things; git huntin’.
#CC#CW#AU#Jesse McCree#more like McHelsing#Hanzo Shimada#who's probs a demon#Jack Morrison#idk what his deal is#Zenyatta#he's just a monk but maybe also a hommunculus
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Betting Predictions To Be Part Of Fox Sports activities Evaluation
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