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xhoess · 2 months ago

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Dangerous Desires part 1

Nicholas chaves x reader

PART 2 HERE

Summary:In "Dangerous Desires," you are a private investigator hired to find missing Hollywood star Nicholas Chavez, only to discover he’s hiding from a dangerous criminal organization. As you delve deeper into his secret life as an undercover agent, a powerful attraction ignites between you. Together, you confront betrayal, navigate high-stakes missions, and fight for survival, ultimately forging a bond that transcends danger and chaos.

Wc part one: 10.6 K

Warnings: killing, sex, stalking, unprotected, semi public sex, angst

The rain pounds against the window, the steady rhythm a distant echo in your office as you stare at the file on your desk. The name leaps off the page in bold black ink: Nicholas Alexander Chavez. You’ve seen it before, attached to glamorous headlines, interviews, and red carpets. The rising star of Hollywood. Handsome, charming, with a smile that could melt hearts and a presence that demanded attention. But that’s not why you’re looking at his file now.

No, this is different. He’s gone off the grid. Vanished without a trace from a world where visibility is everything. And now, someone—a very wealthy someone—wants him found.

You lean back in your chair, the leather creaking under the weight of your thoughts. The client had been as secretive as they come, hiring you through intermediaries, leaving no name or personal contact. All they’d provided was a briefcase of cash and the insistence that Nicholas Chavez be found discreetly. No police, no press, and certainly no publicity. You specialize in missing persons cases, and you’ve had your share of tricky assignments, but something about this one feels different. It’s not just the money—though the payment alone could keep your agency afloat for a year—it’s the way Nicholas’s disappearance has been cloaked in shadows.

You’ve been in this business long enough to know when someone is running from something. The real question is, what was Nicholas running from? Or worse, what was he hiding from?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the soft chime of your phone. A message flashes across the screen. It’s a lead, one of the few you’ve managed to gather in the last few days of digging into Nicholas’s last known whereabouts. You thumb through the message quickly, your eyes catching on the words East End Hotel. Not exactly the kind of place a Hollywood actor would be seen—more like the kind of place you’d go to disappear.

Without hesitation, you grab your jacket and head out into the storm, the streets slick with rain. The city pulses with life around you, but you’re already focused, your mind running through possibilities, mapping out what you’ll do if you find him. What happens next depends on the man you find. The rain falls harder as you make your way through the back streets, the neon signs reflecting in puddles beneath your feet.

The East End Hotel looms ahead, its faded sign flickering against the wet night sky. The place reeks of neglect—peeling paint, cracked windows, and the kind of clientele that would rather not be noticed. You slip inside, immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and mildew. A bored clerk barely glances up from behind the counter as you head toward the elevator, your senses on high alert. You’ve done this before—many times—and you’ve learned how to move unnoticed, to slip through the cracks just like the people you’re chasing.

The elevator rattles as it ascends, each floor passing with a creak and groan. Room 304. That’s where your lead pointed you. Third floor. Your heart rate picks up slightly, anticipation mixing with a familiar surge of adrenaline. You can’t help but wonder what state you’ll find Nicholas in. The golden boy of Hollywood hiding out in a place like this—it doesn’t add up.

The hallway is dimly lit, long shadows creeping along the walls as you approach the door. Room 304. You pause for a moment, listening for any sound from the other side, but it’s silent. Too silent.

You knock, the sound dull against the hollow wood. No answer. You knock again, harder this time. Still nothing.

Without hesitating, you try the doorknob. It’s locked, of course, but the kind of lock that a little persistence can work around. A few seconds later, the door clicks open, and you step inside, the faint smell of stale air greeting you.

The room is dark, save for the muted glow of the streetlights filtering through the rain-streaked window. You move quietly, scanning the small, dingy space. Clothes are strewn across the chair, a duffel bag half-packed by the bed. Whoever was here wasn’t planning on staying long.

You step further into the room, your eyes adjusting to the shadows when suddenly, a figure emerges from the corner. Before you can react, a hand grips your arm, twisting it behind your back and slamming you against the wall.

“Who the hell are you?” a low voice growls into your ear, rough and dangerous.

Your breath catches in your throat, not because of the pain, but because of who’s holding you.

Nicholas Chavez.

You’ve seen his face a hundred times in photos, on the screen, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of him. Up close, he’s taller than you imagined, his presence overwhelming in the tight space. His grip is strong, bordering on brutal, and his scent—something dark and masculine—fills your senses.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” you manage to say, keeping your voice calm despite the sharp edge of adrenaline coursing through you. “I was hired to find you.”

“By who?” he demands, but you can tell he already knows the answer. There’s tension in his body, something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your heartbeat accelerating under his unrelenting grip. “Anonymous client. They want you found, and they’re paying a lot of money to make sure it happens.”

His jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, his eyes flicker with something—fear? Anger? It’s hard to tell, but whatever it is, it’s deep. Nicholas releases your arm, stepping back, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. The intensity in his gaze is almost palpable, like he’s trying to decide whether to trust you or get rid of you. For a moment, you can’t tell which way it’s going to go.

“You need to leave,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shoot back, straightening despite the lingering ache in your arm. “Not until you tell me why you’re hiding in this place and why someone’s paying top dollar to find you.”

Nicholas’s eyes narrow, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to throw you out. But then something shifts. His expression softens—just a fraction—and the tension between you sharpens in a way you didn’t expect. His eyes, dark and brooding, flicker over you, and you can feel the crackling energy between you.

“I’m not hiding,” he says, stepping closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I’m trying to survive.”

There’s a pause, the air between you thick with unspoken questions. He’s close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you a live wire, humming with something unspoken.

“You should go,” Nicholas murmurs, his gaze lingering on your face. “Before it’s too late.”

But as you stand there, heart racing, you know it’s already too late. You’re in too deep now, and there’s no way you’re walking away.

The rain hasn’t let up. It’s relentless, like the gnawing feeling in your gut. You know you should walk away from this case. Nicholas had warned you—stay away—but you can’t. Something about him, about this entire situation, has hooked you, and it’s too late to turn back.

You sit at your desk, staring at the notes you’ve gathered over the last few days. The crumpled paper with scribbled names and dead ends mocks you. Nicholas Chavez isn’t just missing—he’s hiding from something, something dangerous. Every instinct you’ve honed over years of tracking down missing persons tells you there’s more to this story. More than just an actor gone rogue.

You lean back in your chair, the quiet hum of the city outside barely penetrating the silence of your office. He’s out there, somewhere, slipping through the cracks, but no one can hide forever. You pull out your phone, your fingers hesitating over the screen. You’ve spent hours going over every lead, every hint of where Nicholas might turn up next, but nothing solid has come through yet.

Except for the faint trace of something that feels like a trap.

You push the thought aside, dial the number of one of your informants, and after a few short exchanges, you get something—an address, this time on the other side of town. It’s risky. You’ve already crossed paths with Nicholas, and you doubt he’ll be pleased to see you digging into his business again, but that’s not enough to stop you.

You grab your jacket and leave the office behind, stepping out into the wet, pulsing city once more. The rain slicks the streets, the occasional burst of light from passing cars reflecting off puddles as you make your way toward your destination. It’s late—too late to be roaming these parts of town alone—but danger has always been an old friend of yours.

By the time you reach the address, the place is exactly what you’d expected—another seedy, low-end corner of the city, where people go to disappear. A bar, tucked into a narrow street, almost invisible unless you know it’s there. You can feel the weight of eyes on you as you approach, the kind of place where newcomers stand out, and where asking the wrong questions might get you hurt—or worse.

You step inside, the stench of stale beer and smoke wrapping around you like a blanket. The interior is dimly lit, shadowy figures huddled in dark corners nursing their drinks. You make your way to the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Nicholas. Nothing. You’ve learned to trust your instincts, and right now, they’re screaming that something isn’t right.

Then you feel it—someone watching you. You turn slowly, scanning the room again, but no one stands out. Yet the hairs on the back of your neck rise, a prickle of awareness flooding your senses.

“Looking for someone?” a voice asks, low and dripping with suspicion.

You glance at the bartender, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and eyes that have seen too much. He wipes down the counter lazily, his gaze never leaving you.

“I’m just here for a drink,” you say, playing it cool. You’re not here to cause trouble—not yet, anyway.

The bartender raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it. You order something light, just to blend in, but your focus is elsewhere, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next. And then you see him.

Nicholas.

He’s not seated in the crowd but lingering near the back, half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes lock onto yours, a flicker of recognition crossing his face before his expression hardens. You can feel the tension crackling between you even from across the room. He stands there, tall and imposing, his presence as magnetic as it is dangerous. For a split second, you think he’s going to turn around and leave, but instead, he starts walking toward you, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your pulse quickens. You weren’t expecting to find him this easily—or this soon.

Nicholas reaches you, his gaze piercing as he leans in close enough for you to catch the scent of rain and something darker, more primal, clinging to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a quiet growl.

“Looking for answers,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “You can’t disappear without a trace and expect no one to come looking.”

“I told you to drop the case,” he says, his jaw tight. “This isn’t a game.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” you shoot back, heart pounding in your chest. There’s something about him, the way he looks at you—part frustration, part something else—that makes it hard to think clearly.

Nicholas leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, and you suddenly feel trapped between the bar and his looming figure. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he warns, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “This isn’t some missing person case you can wrap up neatly. People are going to get hurt. You could get hurt.”

Despite the warning, the heat between you spikes, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel his intensity—his anger, yes, but something else too. There’s a spark of attraction, a pull that’s impossible to ignore, and it’s enough to leave you momentarily breathless.

“I can handle myself,” you say, but your voice is softer now, your bravado slipping under the weight of his gaze. Nicholas’s eyes flick down to your lips, just for a fraction of a second, and the air between you thickens with something neither of you can name.

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. His hand brushes against your arm, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. The closeness, the sheer heat of him, is almost unbearable. But then, as quickly as it began, he pulls back, breaking the moment. You catch your breath, trying to steady the rush of emotions that came so suddenly.

“You need to leave,” Nicholas says again, but this time, there’s less venom in his voice, as if he’s not entirely sure whether he wants you to go or stay. His eyes linger on you a beat too long before he turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows as if he was never there at all.

You stand there, heart still racing, the taste of that almost-kiss still on your lips. Nicholas is dangerous, that much is clear. But the danger isn’t enough to keep you away. If anything, it only draws you in deeper. And now, with each passing second, you’re more intrigued than ever.

Hours later, you’re back in your apartment, pacing, replaying the encounter over and over. The way he looked at you. The way you felt, pinned against the bar, caught between distrust and desire. You can’t shake the feeling that Nicholas is more than just a missing person. There’s something else going on—something bigger, darker, and much more dangerous than you initially thought.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. You freeze. It’s late. Too late for visitors. Your heart jumps into your throat as you approach the door cautiously. You don’t have to guess who it is.

When you open it, Nicholas stands there, rain dripping from his hair, his expression unreadable.

“I warned you to stay away,” he says quietly, but there’s no threat in his voice now—just exhaustion. “I meant it.”

You don’t move, don’t say a word, as he steps closer, the space between you charged with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. For a moment, you think he’s going to leave again, but instead, he does the one thing you didn’t expect.

He reaches for you, pulling you against him in one swift motion, pinning you to the wall just like before, but this time, there’s no mistaking the desire burning between you. His breath is warm on your skin, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. The tension is unbearable, a tightrope strung between passion and control.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, Nicholas pulls back, leaving you breathless, wanting more, and more confused than ever.

“Stay away,” he says one last time, his voice low, almost pleading. Then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heart pounding in the silence, knowing full well you’re in too deep to turn back now.

And the chase isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

It’s late—far too late for you to still be working, but you can’t stop. Nicholas has burrowed under your skin, an unsolved puzzle, pulling you deeper into a world you weren’t ready for. The usual thrill of a case has transformed into something sharper, more personal. Every lead you chase only tightens the knot in your chest, the sense that something terrible is looming just out of reach.

You sit at your desk, a dim lamp casting a weak glow over your scattered notes. Every piece of the puzzle feels disconnected, as if the truth is buried beneath layers of deceit you haven’t yet peeled away. Nicholas’s warnings replay in your head—Stay away—but how can you? There’s something about him that doesn’t fit with the Hollywood star persona. The charm, the danger, the secrets—they’ve drawn you in like moth to flame.

Your phone buzzes, cutting through the silence. You glance at the screen, an anonymous number flashing. Your gut twists in warning, but you answer anyway.

“There’s someone you should see,” a gruff voice on the other end says without preamble. “Nicholas isn’t the only one hiding.”

Before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving a heavy sense of dread in its wake. Whoever that was, they know you’re looking for Nicholas. And more troubling—they know where to find you.

A flicker of fear sparks in your chest, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the burning need to see this through. You gather your things and head out into the night, the cool air biting at your skin. You should be more careful. You should probably stop digging into Nicholas’s life altogether. But curiosity—and something much stronger—drives you onward.

The address from the mysterious call leads you to a warehouse on the city’s outskirts, a place that looks abandoned, forgotten. But you know better. Abandoned buildings like this are where secrets hide. You step out of your car, pulling your jacket tight around you as you approach the entrance. The air feels heavy, thick with anticipation.

As you enter, the dim light inside reveals a few figures moving in the shadows. Instinctively, your hand moves to the small knife tucked in your coat—just in case. You’ve been in situations like this before, where danger isn’t just a possibility; it’s a guarantee.

Suddenly, you catch movement to your right. A figure darts past one of the broken windows—a man, tall and lean, but definitely not Nicholas. You follow, slipping deeper into the warehouse. Your pulse quickens as you realize you’re not alone in tailing him.

You crouch behind a stack of crates, watching as the man exchanges something with another figure—money, perhaps, or information. You can’t quite make out the details, but whatever it is, it’s important. Your gut tells you it has something to do with Nicholas. You edge closer, trying to catch a clearer glimpse when—

BAM!

The sound of gunfire rips through the air, sharp and deafening. You drop to the ground as instinct kicks in, adrenaline surging through your veins. Shouts echo around the warehouse, followed by the screech of tires outside. Whoever fired those shots isn’t here to negotiate.

Before you can react, more shots ring out. You press yourself against the cold concrete, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. You’re caught in the middle of something you don’t fully understand. This isn’t just about finding Nicholas anymore—this is something far more dangerous.

Suddenly, you hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind. You whirl around, your knife ready in your hand, but you’re not fast enough. Strong hands grab you, pulling you upright and slamming you into the nearest wall. Your heart races as you catch a glimpse of your attacker’s face—one of the men from earlier. His eyes are wild with fury.

“Who the hell are you?” he growls, his breath hot on your face.

You don’t have time to answer before another gunshot rings out, this one close enough that you feel the vibration through the wall. The man jerks, his grip on you loosening as his eyes widen in shock. Blood seeps through his shirt, and he crumples to the ground in front of you.

Standing where the man had been is Nicholas.

Your heart lurches as he steps toward you, his expression dark and unreadable. He’s holding a gun, still aimed at where the man fell, his posture rigid with tension. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the sounds of distant shouting and footsteps echoing in the background.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas asks, his voice rough and low, the concern in it barely masked by the sharp edge of adrenaline.

You nod, still breathless from the close call. “What the hell is going on, Nicholas?”

His eyes flash with something unreadable, and instead of answering, he grabs your arm and pulls you toward the far exit. “There’s no time. We have to get out of here.”

You resist, yanking your arm back. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happening!”

Nicholas glares at you, his jaw clenched tight. For a moment, you think he might actually walk away and leave you to fend for yourself. But then, his shoulders sag just a little, and he looks at you with something like regret in his eyes.

“There are people after me. Dangerous people. You’re caught in the middle of something bigger than you realize.” His voice is low, intense. “Now, come with me, or you won’t get out of here alive.”

You hesitate, your mind racing. You should be furious with him, should demand more answers. But the urgency in his voice and the way his eyes flick to the shadows behind you tells you that now isn’t the time for questions. There’s real danger here, and it’s closing in fast.

Without another word, you let him lead you out through the back, dodging the shadows that seem to creep closer with every step. Once outside, Nicholas pulls you into a narrow alley behind the building, pressing you both against the wall, listening for any signs of pursuit.

The night feels impossibly still compared to the chaos you’ve just escaped, and the tension between you is suffocating. You’re pressed against him, both of you breathing heavily, the cold night air doing nothing to cool the heat radiating from him.

“Why did you come back?” he asks suddenly, his voice raw with something you can’t quite place. “I warned you to stay away.”

“I couldn’t,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I needed to know the truth.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. And then, before you can process it, he’s kissing you.

The kiss is hard, desperate, fueled by adrenaline and fear. It’s as if both of you are trying to erase the danger, the chaos, by clinging to this one moment of connection. His hands cup your face, his lips urgent against yours, and you feel yourself melting into him, into the heat and intensity of it all.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the danger you’ve just escaped.

“This is going to get worse,” Nicholas says quietly, his forehead resting against yours. “You need to leave this alone. For your own safety.”

But as you look into his eyes, you know that leaving is no longer an option. Not now. Not after this.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, and you mean it. Whatever this is—this danger, this desire—you’re in it now, and there’s no turning back.

Nicholas nods, as if he expected nothing less from you. His grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you deeper into the night, into the shadows, and into a world far more dangerous than you ever could have imagined.

The only question now is whether you’ll survive it.

The morning after the warehouse incident dawns with a strange sense of calm, but you know it’s deceptive. The sun filters through your blinds, casting faint patterns on the floor, but the warmth it offers does nothing to ease the cold knot in your stomach. You’re on edge, constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next explosion of danger.

It’s been two days since Nicholas pulled you out of that warehouse, his hands still warm on your skin, his kiss lingering like an unresolved question. Two days since you promised yourself that you wouldn’t walk away from this, no matter how deep it pulled you into his world.

But you need answers. Not just about him, but about everything that’s happening. You’ve followed enough leads to know that this isn’t just about a missing person anymore. Nicholas is hiding something, and not just from the world—he’s hiding it from you.

You head into your office, determined to sift through the clues you’ve gathered. You spread out the files, notes, photos, all of it in disarray but slowly coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. Every piece points to something bigger. There’s more than just a criminal network involved; it feels like you’ve stepped into a web of international proportions. And Nicholas? He’s at the center.

The knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and before you can respond, it swings open. Nicholas strides in, his presence filling the room instantly. He’s dressed differently today, no longer the laid-back Hollywood star or the dangerous figure from the warehouse. There’s something official about him, almost… professional.

“Do you ever knock?” you ask, standing up from your desk, your tone sharper than you intend.

Nicholas stops in front of your desk, his eyes scanning the mess of papers, his jaw clenched. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You cross your arms, trying to keep your guard up even though his very presence makes it difficult. “About how you keep dragging me into your world without giving me any answers?”

He glances at the files on your desk, his expression darkening. “You’ve been digging.”

“I’m a private investigator. It’s kind of what I do.”

Nicholas lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair as if he’s trying to figure out how to begin. His gaze meets yours, and there’s something raw, almost vulnerable, in his eyes. It’s a look that makes your stomach tighten with anticipation.

“I owe you an explanation,” he admits, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

You blink, surprised. This is the first time he’s willingly offered anything close to the truth. Your defenses lower just slightly, and you gesture for him to sit.

He doesn’t. Instead, he leans against your desk, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

“The reason I disappeared,” he begins, “the reason I’ve been in hiding—it’s not just about me. It’s about something much bigger. I’m not just an actor. I’m… working undercover.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, the words hitting you like a punch. “Undercover? As in law enforcement?”

“Not quite.” Nicholas’s jaw tightens. “I’ve been working with an international task force. We’re taking down an organization that’s been running an extensive criminal network for years. Drugs, weapons, human trafficking—it’s all connected. I’ve been posing as someone they could use, someone with enough money and fame to help them move product under the radar.”

You stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying. It makes sense, all of it. The danger, the secrecy, the way he’s been acting. But it doesn’t make it any easier to digest.

“So, all of this—the disappearances, the shady dealings, everything I’ve been following—it’s part of your cover?” you ask, your voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Nicholas nods. “Yes. And now that you’re involved, you’re in danger too.”

A heavy silence falls between you, and the weight of what he’s saying sinks in. You’re no longer just chasing a missing person case. You’re entangled in something far more dangerous—an international criminal ring, and Nicholas is right in the middle of it.

“How long have you been doing this?” you ask, your mind racing.

“Almost two years,” he replies, his voice grim. “At first, it was just gathering intel, getting close to the people running the operation. But it’s grown bigger, more dangerous. The deeper I go, the more risk there is.”

You sit down, trying to wrap your mind around everything. Two years. He’s been living a lie for two years, pretending to be someone he’s not. The Hollywood persona, the actor’s life—it was all just a cover for his real mission.

“And now you’ve dragged me into it,” you say, a mix of anger and resignation in your tone.

Nicholas pushes away from the desk, stepping closer to you, his expression serious. “I didn’t want to involve you. I told you to stay away, but you wouldn’t. You kept digging, and now you’re in as deep as I am.”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding. There’s no turning back now, no way to untangle yourself from this mess. And a part of you, the part that’s always been drawn to danger, knows that you don’t want to.

“So, what happens now?” you ask, your voice steadier than you feel.

Nicholas takes a deep breath, his eyes softening just a fraction. “Now, we work together. You’ve already gathered valuable information. You can help me finish this.”

A surge of adrenaline pulses through you at the thought. The idea of working alongside Nicholas, of diving even deeper into this dangerous world, sends a thrill down your spine. But there’s something else, too. Something that makes your heart beat faster whenever he’s near.

“I’m not just going to be your pawn,” you warn, standing up and facing him.

He smirks, but there’s a seriousness beneath it. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you can respond, his phone buzzes, breaking the tension. Nicholas glances at the screen, his expression hardening. “We’ve got a problem,” he says, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “There’s been a development. We need to move fast.”

Your pulse quickens as he explains that a crucial meeting with one of the criminal leaders is happening tonight—a meeting that could blow his entire operation wide open. You’ll have to go undercover with him, posing as his partner to get inside.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Nicholas asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You meet his gaze head-on, adrenaline surging through your veins. “I’ve come this far. I’m not backing out now.”

He nods, a look of approval crossing his face. “Then we’re in this together.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You spend hours preparing, going over the details of the plan, getting into character. Nicholas coaches you on what to say, how to act, but it feels like a performance you’ve been preparing for your entire life. You’re ready.

As the sun sets, you and Nicholas head out, the tension between you palpable. Every glance, every touch feels charged with the weight of what’s to come. The mission is dangerous, yes, but there’s something else simmering beneath the surface—something neither of you can ignore.

The plan is simple: attend the meeting, gather as much intel as possible, and get out before anyone realizes who you really are. But as you stand beside Nicholas, dressed in a sleek, professional outfit that screams wealth and power, you can’t help but feel the electricity in the air. The danger, the thrill—it’s intoxicating.

When Nicholas slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you enter the meeting, your pulse quickens. You can’t tell if it’s because of the mission or because of the heat radiating from him.

The room is filled with high-profile criminals, their eyes assessing you both as you make your entrance. Nicholas plays his part flawlessly, his charm and confidence drawing people in, but his grip on you tightens ever so slightly—a silent reminder that the danger is very real.

As the meeting progresses, tension mounts. You exchange subtle glances with Nicholas, every look charged with unspoken meaning. But the mission takes a dangerous turn when one of the men—a high-ranking figure in the criminal network—fixes his gaze on you.

“Who’s this?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice.

Nicholas doesn’t miss a beat, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you closer. “This is my partner,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with authority. “She’s been helping me with some of our more… delicate matters.”

The man’s eyes narrow, but Nicholas’s confident tone seems to placate him, for now. The rest of the night passes in a blur of tense conversations, subtle glances, and mounting danger. You can feel the eyes on you, the suspicion lurking beneath every smile.

By the time the meeting ends, you’re on edge, your heart pounding with adrenaline. But you and Nicholas managed to gather the intel you needed, and for now, you’re in the clear.

As you step outside into the cool night air, Nicholas finally relaxes, his grip on you loosening. But instead of stepping away, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You did good tonight.”

The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forget the danger. All you can feel is him—his body pressed against yours, his hand resting on your hip.

“We’re not out

“We’re not out of this yet,” Nicholas finishes, his voice a low whisper that hums against your skin.

You tilt your head slightly, your pulse hammering in your ears as you force yourself to focus. The mission isn’t over, not by a long shot. But it’s hard to think when his proximity stirs emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried. You step back slightly, creating just enough distance to breathe, but his hand lingers on your hip, as if reluctant to let go.

“I did what I had to,” you say, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the intensity in his gaze. “Now, tell me the rest. You didn’t drag me into this just to play dress-up.”

Nicholas sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks away for a moment, scanning the darkened street, as if making sure you’re alone. Finally, he turns back to you, his expression conflicted.

“I didn’t want to bring you in at all,” he admits, his voice rough. “But I had no choice. After what happened at the warehouse, you were in too deep. They know about you now.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You knew, on some level, that stepping into Nicholas’s world meant putting yourself in danger, but hearing him confirm it solidifies the gravity of the situation. You’re a target now, just like him.

“Who’s ‘they’?” you ask, your voice more controlled than you feel.

“The Syndicate,” Nicholas says grimly. “The organization I’ve been working to take down. They run everything—from trafficking to black-market arms deals—and they have eyes everywhere.”

The Syndicate. You’ve heard whispers of the name before, but now, hearing it directly from Nicholas, the weight of it feels even more ominous.“And you’re undercover, trying to take them down from the inside,” you say, piecing the puzzle together. “That’s why you’ve been on the run.”

He nods. “I was getting too close. My cover started to slip, and they began to suspect me. So I disappeared for a while, laying low. But now things are escalating, and they’re looking for any loose ends to tie up. That includes you.”

The realization of how close you’ve come to the edge settles in. You’ve tangled yourself in something far more dangerous than you anticipated, but instead of fear, you feel an unexpected surge of determination. If the Syndicate thinks they can use you as leverage, they’ve underestimated you.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask, your voice steady. “How do we take them down?”

Nicholas steps closer again, his dark eyes searching yours. “We work together. I need your help. You’ve already uncovered more than you realize, and with what we learned tonight, we’re closer than ever to getting inside their inner circle.”

Your chest tightens with the weight of his words. He’s putting his trust in you—something he’s clearly not accustomed to doing. But there’s more to this than just the mission. The tension between you, the undeniable pull—it’s growing stronger, more dangerous. And right now, you’re not sure which is the greater risk: the Syndicate or Nicholas himself.

“Alright,” you say, your voice firm. “But I’m not just some bystander. If we’re doing this, I’m all in.”

Nicholas’s eyes flash with something unreadable, but he nods, his expression softening slightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You both linger there for a moment, the quiet street around you contrasting the storm of emotions churning inside. There’s so much left unsaid between you, so much unresolved tension. But right now, the mission takes precedence. The Syndicate is closing in, and you can’t afford any distractions—no matter how intoxicating they might be.

“We need to go,” Nicholas finally says, breaking the silence. “It’s not safe here.”

You nod, falling into step beside him as you head toward his car. The ride back to your safe house is filled with an uncomfortable silence, both of you lost in thought. The night’s events have raised more questions than answers, but one thing is clear: you’re in this now, and there’s no turning back.

When you finally arrive at the safe house, you both slip inside, the tension still thick in the air. Nicholas locks the door behind you, his movements tense, alert. You watch him for a moment, studying the lines of his face, the way his jaw tightens as if he’s constantly on edge.

“You’re different now,” you say, your voice softer than you intend. “Not just because of tonight, but… this whole thing. It’s changed you.”

Nicholas turns to face you, his expression guarded. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me,” you push, stepping closer. “You owe me that much.”

He exhales sharply, his eyes darkening as he regards you. “I didn’t ask for this life,” he says, his voice low, almost bitter. “I was supposed to just be an actor. That’s all I wanted—to live a normal life, to stay out of all this. But then I got pulled in, and once you’re in, there’s no getting out.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard. You’ve seen him in control, always keeping his emotions in check, but now there’s a rawness to him that makes your heart ache. You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, and the contact sparks something between you.

“Nicholas…” you start, but the words die in your throat.

He looks at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. And before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you’re closing the distance between you.

The kiss is explosive, like a dam breaking, releasing all the pent-up emotions and tension that have been simmering between you for weeks. Nicholas’s hands are on you instantly, pulling you closer, his lips rough, desperate against yours. It’s like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he’s let go, there’s no stopping it.

Your back hits the wall as Nicholas presses against you, his body hot and hard against yours. The room feels like it’s spinning, the heat between you building with every frantic touch, every gasp of breath. It’s overwhelming, consuming, but you can’t stop—neither of you can.

For a brief moment, the danger, the mission, the Syndicate—all of it fades away. There’s only the two of you, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, you stare at each other, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. Nicholas steps back, his chest heaving, but his eyes are still locked on yours.

“We can’t… we can’t let this get in the way,” he says, his voice rough, though it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You nod, though you’re not sure you believe it either. The pull between you is too strong, too undeniable. But he’s right—there’s too much at stake to let your emotions cloud your judgment.

“I know,” you say, your voice steady, even though your heart is still racing.

Nicholas runs a hand through his hair, his gaze softening as he watches you. “We’ll figure this out. But for now… we need to focus on the mission.”

You nod again, forcing yourself to push aside the emotions swirling inside you. The Syndicate is still out there, and every second you waste is a second closer to them finding you.

“Right,” you say, your voice firm. “Let’s finish this.”

And as you stand there, the weight of the mission hanging between you, you realize that no matter what happens next—whether you take down the Syndicate or not—nothing will ever be the same between you and Nicholas.

The next few days are a whirlwind of preparation and anticipation. With Nicholas by your side, the world feels different—charged with an energy that both excites and terrifies you. The thrill of the mission looms large in your mind, but so does the tantalizing reality of your deepening connection with him.

You spend hours poring over files, piecing together information about the Syndicate and its operations. Nicholas is meticulous, guiding you through the layers of deception he’s encountered. Every moment spent working together intensifies the bond between you, and despite the underlying tension, you find yourself lost in his focus and determination.

Finally, the night of the high-profile event arrives. As you stand in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The black dress clings to your curves, the neckline daring yet elegant. It’s the perfect outfit to play the role of a wealthy socialite. You glance at the clock, your heart racing as you anticipate Nicholas’s arrival.

When he steps through the door, time seems to stand still. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric hugging his frame perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean waist. The moment you lay eyes on him, your breath catches. There’s an air of confidence about him that’s magnetic, and as he moves closer, you can feel the heat radiating between you.

“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a thrill down your spine. But his expression shifts as he steps closer, his gaze turning serious. “Remember, this is just a performance. We have to stay in character at all times. The moment anyone suspects us, everything falls apart.”

“I know,” you say, swallowing the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “But we’re also pretending to be a couple, right? That adds a layer of complexity.”

Nicholas’s lips curl into a smirk. “Complexity is one way to put it. Just stick close to me, and let’s keep our story straight.”

You nod, trying to suppress the rush of excitement mingled with anxiety. This isn’t just a game anymore; it’s a high-stakes dance on the edge of danger.

As you both make your way to the event, the ambiance shifts from the quiet intimacy of the safe house to the bustling energy of the gala. The venue is an opulent hotel ballroom, adorned with crystal chandeliers and elegant décor. The air is thick with the laughter of the elite, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the soft strains of a live band playing in the background.

“Stay close,” Nicholas murmurs as he takes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively lean into him, feeling safe and exhilarated.

The crowd swirls around you, and as you navigate through the sea of well-dressed guests, Nicholas introduces you to various attendees, spinning tales of your wealth and influence. He’s in his element, effortlessly charming everyone with his charisma, and you can’t help but admire the way he commands the room.

But beneath the polished surface, you can sense the tension in the air. You keep your eyes peeled for any signs of danger, scanning the room for familiar faces associated with the Syndicate. Each time Nicholas leans in to whisper something sultry in your ear, the heat between you ignites, making it harder to maintain your focus.

“Let’s find somewhere a little quieter,” he suggests, a playful glint in his eye. You nod, your heart racing as he leads you away from the crowd, toward a secluded balcony that overlooks the city lights.

The moment you step outside, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, providing a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. Nicholas leans against the railing, looking out over the cityscape, and you take a moment to admire him—his profile strong and defined against the night sky.

“You okay?” he asks, glancing at you sideways. “You look a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him, even though your heart is racing for a different reason. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Nicholas steps closer, his body radiating warmth as he closes the distance between you. “Just remember to breathe. We’ve got this.”

As he speaks, the chemistry between you crackles like electricity. The way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat, and despite the looming threat, the desire swirling in the air is palpable. You can feel it—their shared breaths, the closeness drawing you in, and the way his gaze flickers down to your lips.

Before you can think, you lean in, seeking the warmth of his body, and he meets you halfway, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It’s hungry and desperate, an unspoken promise of everything you both want but can’t yet fully embrace. The world around you fades, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment of passion and chaos.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingles with his, both of you panting as you struggle to regain your composure. “We should… get back,” you murmur, though part of you longs to stay in this intimate bubble, away from the prying eyes and dangers of the night.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though his eyes are still dark with desire. “But I think we’re going to need to play this part a little more convincingly.”

Your heart races at the implications of his words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we need to give them a show,” he says, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “If we’re going to convince the Syndicate that we’re a couple, we need to act like one.”

His words hang in the air between you, charged with potential. You know what he’s suggesting, and a thrill of excitement runs through you. This is more than just a mission now; it’s a game where the stakes are life and death, but it’s also a dance that tests the boundaries of your connection.

“Alright, show me how it’s done,” you say, your voice steady as you take a step closer.

Nicholas smirks, that devil-may-care charm igniting a spark of courage within you. “Follow my lead.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you head back inside. The energy shifts as you rejoin the crowd, the vibrant chatter surrounding you. You fall into step beside him, the charade deepening as you lean into him, playing the part of the enamored socialite.

Nicholas effortlessly navigates through conversations, keeping up appearances while subtly gathering information from the people around you. You watch him work, fascinated by how he switches from charming to serious in an instant, his eyes sharp and alert beneath his playful demeanor.

As the night unfolds, you find yourself drawn into the role more than you expected. When Nicholas leans in, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you realize you’re not just pretending anymore. The way he touches you, the way he looks at you—it all feels too real, too intoxicating.

At one point, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “The main players will be here soon. We need to find out who they are.”

“Right,” you nod, your heart racing as the adrenaline of the mission heightens your senses.

Just as he pulls back, a figure catches your eye across the room—a man clad in a sharply tailored suit, his presence commanding. There’s something about him that sets your instincts on high alert. You don’t recognize him, but Nicholas’s body stiffens slightly beside you.

“Do you see him?” he murmurs, eyes narrowing as he observes the man. “That’s Victor Reyes. He’s one of the top operatives in the Syndicate. If we can get close to him, it might lead us right to the heart of their operation.”

You glance back at Nicholas, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. “What do we do?”

Nicholas’s eyes flicker with determination. “We get close to him, but we can’t blow our cover. Let’s keep our act together while we gather intel.”

You nod, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you both weave your way through the crowd, each step bringing you closer to the danger you seek. As you approach Victor, you feel the tension in the air rise, a palpable anticipation buzzing between you and Nicholas.

“Act natural,” Nicholas whispers as you reach the group surrounding Victor. “And remember, you’re with me.”

You plaster on a smile, feeling the weight of the moment as you engage with the other guests, keeping the conversation flowing as you subtly edge closer to Victor. Your heart races in your chest, both from the thrill of the encounter and the sheer proximity to the man who could unravel everything.

As the night continues, you and Nicholas play your parts perfectly, dancing between flirting and feigning disinterest in the dangerous conversations that swirl around you. With each passing moment, the connection between you grows deeper, electrifying the air around you.

But just as you feel yourself getting lost in the moment, Victor’s gaze flickers toward you, and a glimmer of recognition sparks in his eyes. You freeze, heart pounding as you try to maintain your composure. You can feel Nicholas’s presence beside you, an unspoken reassurance as you both play your parts flawlessly.

“Ah, you must be the new socialite everyone’s been talking about,” Victor says, his voice smooth and laced with curiosity. “Tell me, what’s your secret?”

Your pulse

Your pulse quickens as Victor’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing you with a blend of intrigue and challenge. You can feel Nicholas tense beside you, his protective energy radiating off him, but you maintain your composure, forcing a smile as you meet Victor’s gaze.

“Just the usual secrets of success,” you reply lightly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. “A little charm, a little finesse. You know how it is in this world.”

Victor chuckles softly, leaning closer as if to catch every word. “Indeed, charm is essential. But I find it’s also about knowing the right people.” His gaze drifts over to Nicholas, a knowing look passing between them. “And who you associate with.”

Nicholas steps in smoothly, his arm tightening around your waist as he tilts his head slightly in Victor's direction. “This is my partner, after all. She’s got a knack for finding the most interesting circles to mix in.”

“Interesting circles, indeed.” Victor’s gaze shifts back to you, a flicker of curiosity igniting in his eyes. “I’d like to know more about you. What brings you to this particular gathering?”

You catch the glint of danger in his question, the way he’s trying to gauge your motives. Instinctively, you lean a little closer to Nicholas, allowing the chemistry between you to speak volumes. “Just looking to expand my horizons and connect with influential people,” you say, your tone light, but your mind races as you consider your next words.

“Always a good idea,” Victor replies, his expression unreadable. “And with your partner here, you couldn’t have made a better choice.”

“Absolutely,” you say, your smile unwavering. “Nicholas has been quite the guide in this world.”

Nicholas smirks, his confidence radiating as he interjects, “And we make quite the team, don’t we?” He leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Stick with me; I’ll keep you safe.”

The intimacy of his words sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight to keep your composure. You glance around the room, noting how the other guests watch the interaction unfold, some with mild interest, others with palpable curiosity.

“What do you do, Nicholas?” Victor asks, shifting his focus, his tone deceptively casual. “You seem quite well-connected.”

Nicholas chuckles, a lighthearted sound that belies the tension in the air. “Let’s just say I dabble in a few businesses. A little of this, a little of that. It’s all very exciting.” He leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But nothing nearly as thrilling as our friend here.”

“Thrilling, indeed,” Victor replies, his smile tight, but his interest piqued. “I have a keen eye for talent. Perhaps we could discuss opportunities that might interest both of you.”

The suggestion hangs between you, and a warning bell rings in your head. You know Nicholas’s real agenda here, and while the prospect of working with someone like Victor could be advantageous, it also carries significant risks.

“Opportunities are always welcome,” you say smoothly, masking the tension building within you. “But I’m sure Nicholas has a busy schedule. Isn’t that right?”

Nicholas’s gaze meets yours, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m always open to exploring new ventures, but tonight’s more about enjoying the festivities, wouldn’t you agree?”

Victor studies both of you, his expression inscrutable. “Of course. But let’s not let this opportunity pass us by.” He gestures toward the grand room filled with guests. “Perhaps you’d like to join me for a drink later? I know a few spots that might be more… enlightening.”

A chill runs down your spine. The invitation feels loaded, as if he’s testing the waters to see how deep your involvement runs. You exchange a glance with Nicholas, who nods subtly, his demeanor calm but alert.

“We’ll see,” Nicholas says, his tone noncommittal but friendly. “For now, let’s enjoy the night.” He expertly steers the conversation away from Victor, guiding you back toward the crowd.

As you walk away, your heart races, the weight of Victor’s gaze lingering on your back. “That was close,” you murmur, leaning closer to Nicholas, your pulse pounding in your ears. “He’s definitely onto us.”

Nicholas nods, his expression serious now. “Yeah, we have to tread carefully. He’s smart and observant, which means we need to keep our wits about us.”

“What’s our next move?” you ask, glancing back to ensure Victor hasn’t followed.

“For now, we gather more intel,” Nicholas replies, his gaze scanning the room. “Let’s keep mingling and see if we can spot any other players. If we can get a sense of who’s who in this crowd, we can better navigate our next steps.”

As the night wears on, you move through the gathering, chatting with other guests while keeping a watchful eye on Victor. Nicholas remains by your side, his presence both comforting and electrifying, a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

After an hour, you find yourselves near the bar, exchanging pleasantries with a group of wealthy patrons. You laugh and flirt, letting the act come naturally as you try to gather information. The tension between you and Nicholas is palpable, though, and every time he leans in to whisper a witty remark, it sends your heart racing.

“Do you think we can trust anyone here?” you ask quietly, scanning the crowd. “Everyone seems to have their own agenda.”

Nicholas nods, his expression thoughtful. “It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but the risk is worth it if we can gather enough information. Just stay alert. We need to keep our cover intact.”

As you sip your drink, you notice a commotion near the entrance. A group of men in dark suits has arrived, their demeanor sharp and commanding. They move through the crowd with an air of authority, immediately drawing attention.

“There they are,” Nicholas murmurs, his focus shifting. “The ones we need to watch. The Syndicate’s higher-ups.”

You turn to look, and your breath catches as you spot a familiar face among them—a man with a scar running down his cheek, a haunting reminder of the dangers you’ve been trying to evade. You didn’t expect to see him here, and the realization sends a shiver down your spine.

“Is that—” you start to say, but Nicholas interrupts.

“Keep calm,” he warns, his voice low. “If they see us panicking, it could blow our cover.”

You nod, forcing yourself to breathe steadily as you watch the group. Nicholas stands close, his arm around your waist, the connection grounding you in the face of potential danger. But as the men circulate through the crowd, their presence feels like a storm brewing.

Suddenly, the tension becomes palpable, and without warning, the lights flicker, dimming for a moment before returning to their full brightness. You can feel Nicholas tense beside you, his eyes narrowing as he scans the room.

“What was that?” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Just stay close to me,” he replies, his voice low but firm. “It could be a distraction. They might be planning something.”

As the music swells and the guests resume their conversations, you can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in your stomach. The air feels charged, and you sense the impending danger lurking just beneath the surface.

Nicholas tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you in closer. “We need to move,” he says, his tone urgent but controlled. “Let’s find a way to gather more information about those men without drawing attention to ourselves.”

With every ounce of your instincts telling you to run, you follow his lead, navigating through the crowd with purpose. You can feel your heart racing, the thrill of danger intensifying as you blend in with the other guests, slipping further into the shadows of the evening.

As you weave through the throng of people, Nicholas stays close, the heat of his body radiating against yours. You exchange glances, a silent understanding passing between you—this isn’t just a mission anymore; it’s a fight for survival, and you’re in it together.

Finally, you spot a quieter corner of the ballroom, away from the main flow of guests. You duck into the alcove, the darkness enveloping you as you press against the wall, breathing heavily from the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Is this a good spot?” you ask, glancing up at Nicholas, who remains focused, his eyes scanning the area.

“Let’s listen in,” he replies, nodding toward a nearby group of men, one of whom is speaking animatedly about recent dealings with the Syndicate. You strain to hear, the tension thickening as you grasp for any useful information.

The conversation is tense, filled with veiled threats and promises of loyalty. The men are discussing operations, their words dripping with malice, and you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine as you realize just how deep the web of corruption runs.

Nicholas glances at you, his expression serious. “We need to be careful. If they catch us eavesdropping—”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts. The men stop talking, their eyes narrowing as they scan the room. You can feel the tension in the air as they shift, their attention honing in on your alcove.

“Let’s go,” Nicholas hisses, grabbing your hand and pulling you deeper into the shadows. You follow his lead, heart racing as you duck into a narrow hallway, desperately hoping to escape their gaze.

But as you navigate the darkness, the sound of footsteps follows closely behind, the realization dawning that the men are

The sound of footsteps echoes through the narrow hallway, a relentless reminder that you’re not safe yet. Panic bubbles up inside you as you sprint alongside Nicholas, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can hear the hushed voices behind you, growing closer.

“Quick, this way!” Nicholas urges, pulling you into a side corridor that leads to a series of smaller rooms. The dim light flickers overhead, casting long shadows that play tricks on your mind as you press forward.

As you run, you glance back, catching a glimpse of the men as they round the corner. Their expressions are hard and determined, the dangerous glint in their eyes sending a chill down your spine. You can’t shake the feeling that they’re on to you.

Nicholas leads you into an empty storage room, its contents stacked haphazardly against the walls. The door creaks shut behind you, and he quickly moves to block it with a nearby crate. The sound of footsteps draws nearer, and you hold your breath, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers, his voice low but urgent. You nod, the gravity of the situation sinking in as you press against the cool wall, trying to calm your racing heart.

The footsteps pause just outside the door, and you can hear the men’s hushed voices, discussing your appearance and the fact that you had been near Victor. Your stomach knots as you realize how close you are to being discovered.

“They were definitely eavesdropping,” one of the men says, his voice gravelly and filled with menace. “We can’t let them get away.”

“Split up and search the area,” another replies. “They can’t have gone far. We’ll find them.”

Your breath quickens as you grip Nicholas’s arm tightly, feeling the tension radiate off him. His gaze is intense, his mind racing as he weighs their options.

After a tense moment, the footsteps recede, and Nicholas releases a quiet sigh of relief. “We need to move, now,” he murmurs, scanning the room for an exit. “If they’re searching for us, we can’t stay here.”

He leads you to a back door, and you follow closely behind, your heart racing. As he pushes it open, the door creaks, and you wince at the sound, fearing it might draw attention. But the hallway beyond is empty, the only light filtering in from a small window at the far end.

“Go!” Nicholas urges, gently pushing you forward. You step into the hallway, adrenaline flooding your system as you hurry to keep pace with him.

As you move cautiously, you hear muffled voices growing fainter in the distance. Nicholas pauses, glancing back to ensure you’re not followed. “We have to find a way out of this area,” he whispers. “Stick close to me and stay quiet.”

You nod, focusing on his words as he leads you further into the maze of hallways. The tension in the air feels electric, and you can’t shake the fear of being discovered. The stakes are higher than ever, and with every step, the danger looms closer.

Finally, you reach a stairwell leading down. “This way,” Nicholas says, his voice firm as he guides you down the steps. The silence envelops you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the distant chatter of the gala above.

As you descend, you can feel your heart racing. You can’t help but wonder how this night, filled with excitement and seduction, has turned into a desperate escape. The thrill of danger hangs in the air, intertwining with the electricity between you and Nicholas.

When you reach the bottom, you emerge into a dimly lit hallway that seems to lead to a staff area. The distant clinking of glasses and soft music echoes from above, a stark contrast to the tension you feel.

“Let’s find an exit,” Nicholas says, his voice low but steady. “We can regroup outside and plan our next move.”

You nod, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings. As you move through the corridor, you catch a glimpse of a door marked “Employees Only.”

“Here,” you suggest, pointing toward the door. “This might lead us out.”

Nicholas moves toward it, pushing it open just enough to peek inside. After a brief moment, he nods and gestures for you to follow him. You step inside, the faint scent of cleaning supplies mingling with the air.

The room is small and cluttered, filled with boxes and supplies. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party echoing outside, and for a moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of isolation in this hidden corner of the world.

“Over there,” Nicholas whispers, pointing to a door at the far end of the room. “That should lead to a back entrance.”

You nod, your pulse quickening again as you move toward it, feeling the weight of the moment. As you reach for the handle, a sudden thought strikes you. “Nicholas, what if they find us? What if they—”

“Shh,” he interrupts, placing a finger against his lips to silence you. His eyes are intense, full of urgency. “We have to keep moving. Trust me.”

With that, you push the door open and step outside, the cool night air hitting you like a wave. You squint against the sudden brightness of the outdoor lights, your senses heightened as you scan your surroundings.

You find yourselves in a small alley behind the hotel, a stark contrast to the opulence of the gala. The sound of music and laughter fades behind you, leaving only the hum of the city.

“Is there a way to blend in?” you ask, glancing around nervously. “We can’t just walk out into the street.”

Nicholas nods, his expression thoughtful as he scans the alley. “There should be some staff uniforms in that supply room. If we can change, we might be able to slip past anyone looking for us.”

You nod, your heart racing with the idea of disguising yourselves. “Let’s do it.”

You move quickly back inside, rummaging through the boxes until you find a couple of staff uniforms. With a mix of urgency and adrenaline, you change as quickly as possible, slipping into the dark trousers and button-up shirts that disguise your evening attire.

Nicholas pulls his hair back into a neat ponytail, the uniform transforming him into someone entirely different. You can’t help but admire how effortlessly he pulls off the look, even in the face of danger.

“Ready?” he asks, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

You nod, straightening your own outfit. “Let’s do this.”

As you step back outside, you take a deep breath, trying to suppress the anxiety swirling within you. With Nicholas by your side, the thrill of the mission mingles with a sense of hope. You have a chance to escape, to regroup and plan your next move, but you also feel the heat of the connection that’s been building between you.

“Stick close,” Nicholas says, his tone serious as you both start to walk down the alley, blending into the shadows.

You navigate your way back to the street, the bustling energy of the city wrapping around you. The gala feels like a distant memory, a world of glamour and danger that you’ve left behind.

“Where to now?” you ask, glancing up at him, your heart racing at the thought of being out in the open again.

Nicholas’s gaze flickers around the street, his mind clearly working. “We need to find a safe place to lay low for a bit. There’s a café a few blocks away that I think we can use.”

You nod, trusting his instincts as you walk side by side, the tension of the night still crackling in the air between you. The thrill of the mission intertwines with the undeniable chemistry, and with every step, the stakes feel higher.

As you reach the café, you both duck inside, the warm ambiance contrasting with the cold reality outside. The smell of coffee fills the air, and you take a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline of the night still pulsing through your veins.

“Let’s grab a table in the corner,” Nicholas suggests, his eyes scanning the room. “We can talk strategy without anyone overhearing.”

You nod and lead the way, settling into a small booth at the back. The café buzzes with activity, the soft murmur of conversations creating a comforting backdrop as you both take a moment to regroup.

After ordering drinks, you lean across the table, your eyes locked on Nicholas. “What now? What do we do about Victor and the Syndicate?”

Nicholas takes a deep breath, his expression serious as he considers the options. “We need to gather more intel, especially on Victor and the men he was with. They’re dangerous, and if they suspect we’re onto them, we could be in real trouble.”

“But how do we do that without raising suspicion?” you ask, your mind racing with possibilities. “They know we were close to them at the gala.”

Nicholas leans back, his gaze thoughtful. “We’ll have to play a careful game. Keep mingling, stay in touch with contacts who can provide information. And if we can get a lead on where they’re operating, we might have a chance to expose them.”You nod, feeling the weight of the task ahead. “And what about us?” You hesitate, the question hanging in the air between you. “I mean… after all of this?”

Nicholas meets your gaze, his expression softening for a moment. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “Right now, we need to focus on the mission. But… I won’t lie; this connection between us complicates things.”

Your heart races at his words, the heat of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. “It

Your heart races at his words, the heat of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. “It complicates things, but in a good way, doesn’t it?” you ask, leaning forward slightly, searching his eyes for clarity.

Nicholas hesitates, his brow furrowing as he contemplates the tension between you. “It does. But we need to keep our focus. There’s too much at stake right now.” His gaze drifts away, momentarily lost in thought. “Once we’re out of this, we can figure out what this is… whatever it is.”

The unspoken words linger heavily in the air, and a thrill runs through you at the idea of what could be once the chaos subsides. The connection you share feels electric, but with danger still lurking, you can’t afford to let your guard down.

Just then, your drinks arrive, interrupting the moment. You take a sip, the warm coffee grounding you. As you glance around the café, you notice a few familiar faces in the crowd—other guests from the gala, their expressions ranging from jovial to cautious.

“Do you recognize anyone?” Nicholas asks, noticing your gaze.

“Not sure,” you reply, straining to see more clearly. “But it looks like the party might still be going strong. We might want to be careful.”

“Right,” he says, his eyes scanning the room with renewed vigilance. “We can’t afford to be seen. Let’s finish up here and regroup. I think we should check in with some of my contacts to see if they’ve heard anything about Victor or the Syndicate.”

You nod, feeling a sense of determination settle in. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us safe,” you say, your voice steady. “I can help gather information too.”

Nicholas smiles, a hint of admiration in his gaze. “I know you can. You’re resourceful, and you’ve got skills. We’ll need that.”

As you sip your coffee, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You glance around again, searching for any sign of danger. “Do you think they’ll come looking for us here?”

“Maybe,” he replies, frowning slightly. “But we’ve got a little time. The café is bustling, and the last thing they want is to draw attention to themselves. If we play it smart, we can slip away without a hitch.”

You finish your drink, the warmth settling in your stomach but unable to quell the tension building inside you. “What’s our exit strategy?”

Nicholas leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Once we leave here, we’ll head toward the alley. It should be clear, and then we can take a back road to avoid the main streets. I have a car parked a few blocks away.”

“Perfect,” you say, feeling a sense of relief at having a plan. “Let’s get moving then.”

After a quick check of the café to ensure the coast is clear, you both slip out the door, stepping into the cool night air. You can still hear the distant sounds of the gala, but the thrill of the chase keeps you focused on what’s ahead.

As you navigate through the back streets, the atmosphere changes from the glamour of the gala to the gritty reality of the city. The shadows stretch long against the walls, and you feel the adrenaline kicking in as you walk quickly, the fear of being discovered pushing you forward.

“Stay close,” Nicholas instructs, his voice low as he walks beside you. “If anything feels off, just follow my lead.”

“Got it,” you reply, trying to keep your pace steady. The night is filled with sounds—distant sirens, the hum of traffic, the murmur of voices—but it feels like an illusion, a reminder that danger lurks just beyond your periphery.

As you turn a corner, you spot a group of men loitering at the entrance of an alley. The uneasy feeling in your stomach tightens, and you glance up at Nicholas, who’s already assessing the situation.

“We can’t go that way,” he whispers, pulling you back slightly. “Let’s find another route.”

You nod, instinctively clutching his arm as he leads you further down the street. Just as you round another corner, a figure steps out from the shadows, blocking your path.

It’s a tall man, dressed in dark clothing, his expression unreadable. “Going somewhere?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nicholas tenses beside you, and you feel a surge of fear. “We don’t want any trouble,” he says evenly, stepping slightly in front of you as a protective gesture.

“Oh, I think you do,” the man replies, his voice dripping with menace. “You’re a long way from the party, and I’d say you’re in a bit over your heads.”

“We’re just trying to get home,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “No one wants any trouble.”

The man chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. “Home? This isn’t your neighborhood, sweetheart. You shouldn’t be wandering around here alone.”

Nicholas shifts closer, his protective instinct kicking in. “We’re fine. Just let us pass.”

But the man steps forward, blocking your way. “I don’t think so. Not until I get a little something in return.”

Your heart races, and the realization hits you: he’s not just looking for a simple exchange. The threat in his voice is clear, and you can see the glint of danger in his eyes.

“What do you want?” Nicholas asks, his voice firm, but you can hear the tension lacing his words.

“Information,” the man replies, his eyes flicking between you and Nicholas. “I heard some interesting chatter at the gala about a certain Victor. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

You exchange a glance with Nicholas, fear pooling in your stomach. This man has ties to the very people you’re trying to avoid. “We don’t know anything,” you say quickly, trying to maintain a façade of confidence. “Just leave us alone.”

The man’s expression darkens. “That’s too bad. I think you do know more than you’re letting on. And if you don’t want to make this difficult, I suggest you start talking.”

Nicholas takes a step closer, his body blocking you from the man’s view. “We’re not going to share anything with you. Just let us go.”

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with tension. The man’s gaze sharpens as he considers your words, weighing his options.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion in the distance, the sounds of shouting and footsteps approaching. The man’s expression shifts, irritation flickering across his face. “Looks like you’ve got some company,” he says, glancing back down the street.

Without thinking, you take the opportunity. “Run!” you shout, grabbing Nicholas’s hand and bolting past the man.

The adrenaline surges through you, propelling you forward as you sprint down the alley, your heart pounding in your chest. You can hear the man shouting behind you, but you don’t dare look back.

Nicholas keeps pace beside you, his grip firm around your hand as he guides you through the maze of alleys. “This way!” he urges, leading you toward a side street that opens up into a dimly lit park.

You burst into the park, the cool night air rushing past you. The sounds of the city seem to fade as you find yourself surrounded by trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

“Over there!” Nicholas points to a nearby bench, and you both duck behind it, gasping for breath as you hide in the shadows.

“Do you think he followed us?” you ask, trying to catch your breath as you press your back against the cool metal of the bench.

Nicholas shakes his head, his expression serious. “Not yet, but we can’t stay here long. We need to figure out our next move.”

You nod, the gravity of the situation settling in. “What do we do now?”

He takes a deep breath, looking around the park as if searching for something. “We need to find a way to get back to the car without drawing attention. Let’s stay low and avoid the main streets.”

As you move cautiously through the park, you can feel the tension between you and Nicholas growing. The thrill of danger is intermingled with a pulse of excitement, an awareness of the connection that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas asks, glancing back at you, his expression softening momentarily.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though you can feel your heart racing—not just from the adrenaline, but from his concern. “Just a little shaken.”

“Let’s keep moving,” he says, his voice low and steady. “We’ll find a way out of this.”

You nod, your resolve strengthening as you follow his lead. The night stretches ahead of you, filled with uncertainty, but with Nicholas by your side, you feel a flicker of hope.

As you make your way through the park, you suddenly spot a figure in the distance, standing near the edge of the trees. Your breath catches in your throat, and you grip Nicholas’s arm tighter.

“Do you see that?” you whisper, pointing toward the figure.

Nicholas squints, his expression hardening. “I see it. Stay behind me.”

As you move cautiously closer, you can make out the silhouette of a man—broad shoulders and a confident stance. The closer you get, the more familiar he looks.

“Is that…?” you start to say, recognition dawning.

“Victor,” Nicholas murmurs, his voice low. “We need to avoid him.”

But before you can respond, Victor suddenly turns, his gaze piercing through the dim light as if he senses your presence. Your heart races as he scans the area, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“We can’t let him see us,” Nicholas whispers urgently, tugging you back into the shadows of the trees. You feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sudden closeness sends a shiver of adrenaline coursing through you.

As Victor continues to search the area, you and Nicholas crouch low behind a thick bush, your breaths shallow and quiet. You can see Victor’s silhouette clearly now; he’s talking to someone on his phone, his expression tense.

“I’ll find them,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “They can’t have gotten far. They’re too curious for their own good.”

Nicholas clenches his jaw, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. “We need to stay out of sight. If he catches wind of us, it’ll be game over.”

You nod, the weight of his words pressing down on you. The stakes have never felt higher, and the danger of being discovered is palpable. You watch as Victor paces back and forth, his frustration evident.

“We can’t let them interfere with the plan,” he mutters into the phone. “I’ll send a couple of guys out to keep an eye on them. We need to control this before it gets out of hand.”

Your stomach drops at his words. They’re already planning to hunt you down, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. You glance at Nicholas, who meets your gaze with a fierce determination.

“We can’t let that happen,” he whispers. “We have to find a way to turn the tables on them.”

You nod, the idea igniting a spark of hope. “What if we gather information on them? Use it against them?”

Nicholas looks thoughtful, his eyes scanning the park for any potential routes of escape. “That’s a good idea. If we can find out where they’re meeting or what they’re planning, we might be able to expose them.”

Victor hangs up the phone, a scowl on his face. “They’ll regret crossing me,” he says under his breath before stepping further into the park, clearly looking for you.

“This is our chance,” Nicholas murmurs, his grip tightening around your hand. “We can slip away while he’s distracted.”

You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you both carefully maneuver through the trees, keeping low and quiet. As you inch away from Victor’s sight, you feel the thrill of the chase and the undeniable connection between you intensifying.

Finally, you reach the edge of the park, peering around a tree to check if the coast is clear. Victor is still moving further into the shadows, the distance between you growing. “Let’s go,” Nicholas whispers, leading you toward a nearby street.

Once you’re safely across the road, you take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. The adrenaline from the encounter still buzzes in your veins, and you glance up at Nicholas, whose expression is a mix of relief and determination.

“We made it,” you say, your voice low but filled with awe.

“For now,” Nicholas replies, his tone serious as he scans the area. “But we need to keep moving. I don’t want to stick around here longer than necessary.”

You both set off down the street, your pace quickening as you make your way toward the car. The thrill of the evening has taken a turn, and now the tension between you feels electric. With every step, the danger that surrounds you only seems to amplify the connection.

As you near the car, you glance at Nicholas, your heart pounding with more than just fear. “What happens next?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turns to you, his gaze intense. “We’ll regroup and figure out our next move. But we need to keep our heads down for a while. I’ll reach out to some contacts, see if they can provide any intel on Victor and his operations.”

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety at the thought of what lies ahead. “And what about us? What if they’re always watching?”

Nicholas pauses, searching your eyes for a moment. “Then we’ll have to be smarter. We can’t let our guard down. But I promise you, once this is over, we’ll figure things out.”

His words hang in the air, a promise tinged with uncertainty. The tension between you feels thick and unyielding, a connection that transcends the chaos around you.

Just then, you reach the car, and Nicholas opens the door for you, a small gesture that feels both protective and intimate. You slip into the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation.

As he starts the engine, the low rumble fills the silence, and you look at him, feeling the weight of the night’s events. “No matter what happens, I’m with you,” you say, your voice firm. “We’ll face this together.”

He meets your gaze, a fire igniting in his eyes. “Together,” he agrees, a determined look crossing his features.

As he drives away from the park, you can’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline mixed with something deeper. The night has brought you closer, forged a connection through danger and intrigue, and as you navigate the dark streets, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

The city lights flicker outside the window, and as you lean back in your seat, you find comfort in the thought that this was just the beginning. The game was far from over, and with Nicholas by your side, you’re ready to play.

The drive back to your apartment is filled with an unsettling silence, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavy in the air. The rhythmic thump of your heart feels louder than the engine, and each passing streetlight casts fleeting shadows across Nicholas’s face, illuminating the tense lines of determination etched there.

“Do you think Victor knows we were there?” you ask, breaking the silence as you watch him navigate the darkened streets. “What if he contacts the Syndicate?”

Nicholas tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t know, but we can’t assume he doesn’t. We need to be smarter about this. They’ll be looking for us now.”

The reality of the situation settles over you like a fog. The danger is real, and it feels as though every moment you spend together increases the stakes. You glance at Nicholas, whose jaw is set in a firm line, eyes focused on the road ahead. His intensity both excites and unnerves you, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re both walking a razor’s edge.

Arriving at your apartment, you follow him inside, the door clicking shut behind you, muffling the noise of the outside world. You take a moment to catch your breath, still reeling from the night’s close calls. The adrenaline that had propelled you through the evening now leaves you feeling a mix of exhilaration and dread.

Nicholas moves around your living room, checking the windows and ensuring the curtains are drawn tight. “We need to lay low for a while. I’ll make some calls, and we can try to figure out our next move.”

You nod, feeling a rush of gratitude and concern. “What if they come looking for us?”

“We’ll be ready,” he says, his voice steady but firm. “But for now, I need you to trust me. I’ll keep you safe.”

His words send a ripple of warmth through you, mingled with fear. You’ve never been in a situation like this, but as you look at him, you realize that your trust in him has grown deeper than you anticipated. There’s something about his fierce determination that draws you in, making you feel a sense of security amidst the chaos.

“Can I help?” you ask, moving closer to him. “I want to do something, not just sit and wait.”

He glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You’re already helping just by being here. But if you’re serious, I could use your perspective. We need to figure out how much Victor knows and who he might be working with.”

You nod, determination surging through you. “Okay, let’s brainstorm. I might have some ideas.”

As you sit on the couch, Nicholas joins you, his body angled toward yours. The tension in the air shifts, morphing into something different, charged with an undercurrent of attraction that seems to grow with every passing moment.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to focus. “First, we need to think about how he found out we were at the gala. Did anyone see us together?”

Nicholas shakes his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know. But he must have had someone watching. That means we have to be careful who we trust.”

His gaze is intense, and you can feel the heat between you rising as the conversation deepens. You want to reach out, to close the distance that feels both electrifying and overwhelming.

“Do you think there’s a mole?” you ask, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer ground, though the awareness of the attraction lingers.

“Maybe. Someone close enough to us to gather information. I’ll need to make some calls to my contacts to see if they’ve heard anything,” he replies, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary.

Just then, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, interrupting the charged moment. You glance down at the screen, your heart dropping as you see a message from a familiar name: Mia.

Mia: I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you okay?

The worry in her message pulls you back to reality, the reminder of your life outside this whirlwind of danger. You hesitate, feeling the pull of your normal life but knowing you can’t share the truth with her.

“I need to respond to Mia,” you say, your voice slightly strained.

Nicholas nods, his expression serious. “Be careful. Don’t share too much.”

You pick up the phone and quickly type back, trying to keep your response vague.

You: I’m fine, just busy with work. Can’t talk now. I’ll call you later.

You hit send, but the knot in your stomach remains. The betrayal of keeping secrets from your closest friend gnaws at you. You look up to see Nicholas watching you intently.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his tone softening slightly.

“I’m just… worried about Mia. She’s my best friend. I don’t want to put her in danger,” you admit, the weight of your concern spilling out.

Nicholas shifts closer, the space between you growing smaller. “I get it. But right now, your safety is what matters. If Victor is looking for us, then anyone close to you is at risk too.”

You nod, swallowing hard. The reality of the danger sinks in further. “I understand. I just feel so trapped in this situation.”

“Just remember, we’re in this together,” he reassures you, his gaze steady and fierce. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The sincerity in his words ignites a spark inside you. You want to believe him, to trust that he will keep you safe. But as you study his face, the shadows of the night reflect in his eyes, revealing the weight he carries. There’s something deeper in his gaze—something raw and vulnerable that makes your heart race.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “That means a lot to me.”

He leans in closer, the heat radiating between you palpable. “I don’t want you to worry about anything else. Just focus on us.”

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire of desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. You can feel the electric tension drawing you closer, the lines between safety and attraction blurring as you find yourself caught in his gaze.

“Us,” you repeat, the word heavy with meaning. The air thickens with anticipation as you inch closer, the urge to bridge the gap overwhelming.

Then, in a sudden rush of boldness, you reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. The contact sends sparks shooting through you, and you can’t help but lean in slightly, drawn by an invisible force.

“Do you ever think about what happens after this?” you ask, your voice shaky yet steady.

Nicholas’s breath hitches slightly, and for a moment, he looks caught off guard. “I do. But right now, we have to stay focused. We can’t let our emotions get in the way.”

His words sting, but you understand the need for caution. “You’re right. But it doesn’t change what I feel.”

He studies you for a moment before responding, “What do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I feel like there’s something between us. Something more than just… this.”

Nicholas leans in, his voice low. “And what do you want to do about it?”

You bite your lip, your eyes locked onto his. “I want to explore it. I want to know where this could go.”

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He nods, closing the distance between you. “More than anything.”

His lips find yours in a soft, exploring kiss. Your hands roam his back, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, tongues meeting and dancing in a tantalizing rhythm. You moan softly, your body pressing against his.

Nicholas trails kisses down your neck, his hands exploring your curves. You arch your back, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire.

He leads you to the bedroom, where the soft glow of a lamp casts shadows on the walls. You stand before him, your breath coming in quick gasps. He reaches out, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver under his touch, your body aching for more.

He unbuttons your shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You help him, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands moving to unhook your bra. You step out of it, standing before him completely bare from the waist up. His eyes darken with desire, and you can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin.

You reach for his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you unbutton it. He helps you, pulling it off and tossing it aside. Your hands run over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your touch. He groans softly, his hips pressing against you.

You can feel his erection through his pants, and it sends a jolt of excitement through you. You unbuckle his belt, your hands fumbling slightly in your eagerness. He kicks off his shoes, and you help him out of his pants and boxers.

He stands before you, naked and aroused. You take a moment to appreciate the sight of him, your eyes roaming over his body. He smiles, a slow, sexy smile that makes your heart race.

You guide him to the bed, lying down next to him. Your hands explore his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the soft skin of his inner thighs. He groans softly, his hips moving against yours.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his cock. It’s hard and hot in your hand, pulsing with his heartbeat. You stroke him slowly, your thumb brushing over the tip. He lets out a soft moan, his hips bucking slightly.

“You feel amazing,” he breathes, his hands roaming your body. He cups your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. You arch your back, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

He rolls you onto your back, his body covering yours. His lips find yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You can feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and you lift your hips, inviting him in.

He enters you slowly, inch by inch, his eyes locked onto yours. You let out a soft moan, your nails digging into his back. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

He starts to move, his hips thrusting against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, your body moving in sync with his. The room fills with the soft sounds of your lovemaking, the wet smack of skin against skin, the soft moans and gasps of pleasure.

“Faster,” you whisper, your body aching for more. He complies, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. You can feel the pleasure building inside you, your body tensing with anticipation.

“Yes, right there,” you moan, your hips meeting his. He leans down, his lips capturing one of your nipples. You cry out, your body convulsing with pleasure.

He continues to thrust, his body slick with sweat. You can feel the orgasm building, your body tensing with each thrust. “I’m close,” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

He groans, his body tensing with you. “Me too,” he whispers, his voice ragged.

You come together, your bodies shuddering with the force of your release. You cling to each other, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in sync.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. You lie there, your bodies intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. You look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“That was…” you start, but the words fail you.

He smiles, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Incredible,” he finishes for you.

But just then, the ringing of your phone breaks the moment, and you both startle. You glance at the screen, your heart sinking as you see another incoming message, this time from an unknown number.

Unknown: We know where you are. You can’t hide forever.

Panic grips you as you look up at Nicholas, whose expression shifts from calm to alert in an instant. “What does it say?” he demands, his voice low and tense.

You swallow hard, the words echoing in your mind. “It’s from someone who knows where I am. They’re… they’re watching us.”

Nicholas’s eyes blaze with intensity, the protective instincts surging back to the surface. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Your heart races as you stand, urgency flooding your veins. “What do we do?”

“Grab your things. We’re moving,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

#smut #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #i need that man so bad #nfsw blog #need that #nicholas chavez angst #angst #spicy creator #libary smut #libary #liveblogging #live

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simply-ivanka · 2 months ago

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Are the Democrats trying to assassinate President Trump, or are they just rooting for it?

Shortly after Donald Trump was inaugurated after the 2016 election, a so-called comedienne posted a picture of herself holding Trump’s severed, bloodied head. That apparently passes for comedy among Democrats.

In a presentation of Julius Caesar in the venerable Shakespeare in the Park production in New York City a few months later, a likeness of Trump was cast in the role of Caesar. I don’t need to remind you what happens to Caesar in the end.

The violent rhetoric from Democrats just keeps on coming, through Trump’s first term, into this year’s re-election campaign, and right up to weeks before the election. And now, it’s predictably escalating from violent rhetoric and into violent acts.

A month ago, a would-be assassin missed Trump’s cranium by a quarter-inch with a bullet from an AR-15, only because Trump luckily turned at the last possible second. It came out that the Trump campaign had requested beefed-up security prior to the incident, and the White House had denied his request.

The Secret Service at the time was headed by a DEI hire, and the agents at the event were test-failing amateurs. They allowed the shooter within 130 yards of Trump on an unsecured rooftop. Even after they saw him there, with a gun, they failed to take him out and failed to alert Trump or his staff until he’d fired eight shots, killing one man, seriously wounding another, and grazing Trump’s ear.

In an apparent admission of near-lethal negligence by the Service, five agents were later suspended.

Their replacements seem not much better. In yesterday’s attempt, a Democrat donor got within easy range of Trump on a golf course with a rifle equipped with a high-powered scope. The shooter was wearing a Go-Pro, apparently to post his assassination on YouTube where Democrats everywhere could cheer it. He was thwarted only because he was foolish enough to poke his rifle out of the bushes, where an agent happened to see it.

The shooter had been on the golf course for at least 12 hours. One must wonder, how did he know Trump’s golfing schedule at least 12 hours in advance?

Even now, after two assassination attempts that missed due only to incredible luck or Providence, President Trump is not afforded the level of protection that President Biden or even Vice President Harris receives.

Most recently, President Doofus again falsely accused Trump of saying that neo-Nazis are “fine people” even though that accusation has been thoroughly debunked even by leftist fact-checkers.

Kamala Harris repeated the lie in her debate with Trump – and was not corrected by the moderators even though the moderators purported to correct at least seven Trump statements (some of which were not factual claims, but mere opinions).

You might think the mainstream media would condemn these assassination attempts in the strongest words possible. But if you do think that, then you haven’t been paying attention to the mainstream media for the last ten years.

The mainstream media is implying – no, they’re outright stating – that Trump has all this coming because he’s a Republican who says nasty things. The Washington Post has already dismissed the assassination attempt and has framed it instead as Trump unfairly capitalizing on the incident politically.

The media take their cue from Biden and Harris. They routinely equate Trump with Adolf Hitler, the mass murderer of millions.

The Democrats let their rank and file connect the dots: Everyone has been taught, correctly, that killing Hitler would have been a heroic act that would have saved millions. So, the Democrats don’t exactly say “kill Trump” but they do suggest you’d be a hero if you did.

#trump #trump 2024 #president trump #ivanka #repost #america first #americans first #democrats #america #donald trump

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spatialwave · 6 months ago

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"baby, don't you know? that you're my golden hour."

pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x ftm!actor!reader word count: 2.5k summary: being an up-and-coming actor had you fighting tooth and nail for opportunities. you were young, though, still had much to learn and people to impress. you were surprised when cooper howard took it upon himself to mentor you. the cowboy star supported you through thick & thin — a light in your life that reminded you everything would be alright. warnings/tags: sfw, implied transphobia, angst, grief, mention of death, hurt/comfort, fluff. notes: as a transmasc enby, i get very passionate writing ftm!reader stories. this had been sitting in my brain for awhile, so thank you to anon for sending an ask that kicked my ass into gear and write it!

“what do you mean? they told me last week that i had the goddamn job,” your voice was loud and snappy, jaw clenching as you fell back into the chair with a heavy thud, “i did three goddamn auditions and even did a table read, now they’re saying i’m not the right fit? what the hell is that supposed to mean? i put in the fucking work already.”

you were sitting in your agent’s office full of luxury furniture, expensive paintings and the gaudiest decorations. with a red face, you huffed as he explained to you the situation at hand.

your next movie had dropped you as the supporting actor. it would’ve given you enough screen time for it to be your real breakthrough role and shoot you up into the fame and glory you’d been fighting for.

“well,” your agent sighed, leaning forward against his desk, “there’s been word going around about you.”

defensive, you furrowed your brows in confusion, “what word?”

he’d grown uncomfortable, putting one leg over the other as he rested into his chair and thought about what to say next. he needed to be careful with his words, seeing that you had been ready to knock shit off of his desk if he angered you anymore.

“i think you should read this,” he murmured, filtering through papers on his desk until he grabbed a folded newspaper and pushed it toward you.

your heart sank as you snatched the paper, eyes wide and shaky when you read the front page. it was all about you. your deadname was plastered in large text as the article detailed your past that you had gone lengths to keep out of the public eye.

you changed your name, moved away from home and started your transition quietly. you had done everything to make sure that people perceived you the way you wanted.

but life was never that easy.

your eyes settled on a few words, ‘a trusted source confirmed.’ thoughts ran through your mind, thinking of any person who you’d grown up with, family members, ex-friends—anyone who would be willing to spill career-ruining information for a quick lump of cash.

“i had no idea—“ your agent spoke, but you cut him off.

“i was hoping to keep it that way until i was in a damn grave” you said, voice calm but cheeks red and breath heavy, “fuck this.”

there was nothing worth sticking around for, who the hell would want to hire you now? there were too many close-minded people in the world, and you could already imagine the headlines of them lumping you right in with the opposition. a trans, american communist.

fucking christ.

the following week you isolated yourself in your apartment, high-end and expensive. you couldn’t even feel comfortable in your own home because the looming possibility of being unable to pay rent was alive and very real. you stayed in your bed, wondering how on earth you thought you’d be able to careen through life without anyone finding out.

you were lucky that your mother supported you every step of the way when you were a young, confused teen. she helped you navigate your feelings and even urged you to talk to a professional. one year later, you’d started testosterone injections.

she passed three years ago, leaving you with nothing but her memories and the devastating reality that you’d be alone from here on out. you always hoped your secret died with her.

you melted away on your bed as the sound of thunder boomed loudly and shook your apartment, rotting into nothingness. sleep was on the horizon, but you’d been interrupted by a buzzing sound vibrating from your intercom. you didn’t move, keeping your eyes shut tight and hoping the sound would stop.

buzz.

“who is it?” you asked tiredly, pressing your forehead against the buzzer.

“a friend,” a southern voice replied, full of static.

you let go of the button that connected your voice to the intercom at the entrance of your apartment, closing your eyes and wishing that cooper would turn around and leave. His pity was far from what you needed

you were angry at the world, and that included him.

swallowing a lump down your throat, you pressed the door buzzer, feeling it vibrate beneath your finger until you were certain the cooper was inside the apartment and out of the rain.

with a blanket strung over your shoulders, your bare feet padded against the hardwood flooring as you unlocked your door. three locks for safety.

you waited to hear footsteps, your ear pressed against the door while your gazed focused on nothing in particular. a shell of a human was the only way you could describe yourself.

you’d never felt this dark before.

a gentle knock rapped against the wooden door, and you had to force yourself to open it up slowly as the lights from the hallway spilled into your dim apartment. meeting cooper’s gaze left you feeling like the smallest man in the world, even if you were the same height.

“you look like crap, kid,” cooper sighed, getting a good look at you. you hadn’t showered in a couple of days and your stubble had started to grow out. for years, you’d been so meticulous with how you looked, never once letting someone see you less than your best. not even cooper.

“stating the obvious,” you murmured, stepping back to give the older man time to step in. you didn’t bother sticking around for a proper greeting, already heading back to your bed so you could collapse on top of it, burying your face into your pillows.

the sound of cooper’s footsteps made you queasy, curling into a ball and peeking out as he turned on a lamp near the doorway.

“why didn’t ya’ tell me?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up to his elbows, having discarded his coat and hat. you rarely ever saw him dressed so casually.

through furrowed brows, you glared at him, “i didn’t have to tell anyone a goddamn thing, you know. it was my secret to keep.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed, stepping close until you felt the bed dip down next to you, “you’re not obligated to tell anyone your secrets,” his voice was so soft, it made your stomach twist, “but you’ve been ignoring my calls. why?”

a deep, shaky breath came from you as you looked at the man sitting next to you on the bed, his face lit up by the warm lamp, “i don’t need your help. i’m fine, cooper.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, a tiny smile on his lips, “you always have been.”

you hated how well his voice and presence soothed you. for the first time in days you felt a spark of hope in your chest, but you stomped it out before it could burn bright.

“i know,” you whispered, moving to rest upright against the headboard with the blanket tight around you, “i figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with me.”

you didn’t dare look him in the eyes because the last thing you needed was for him to feel sorry for you. it wouldn’t be the first time someone questioned your identity and been turned off by it, many of your old friends had left you in the dust. considering you some kind of freak.

yet, there was cooper howard loyally at your side, his hazel eyes showing nothing but compassion and care for you.

you could remember it clear as day, the first time you filmed a scene with him. it was your first big movie gig after years of ads and small roles on television shows, a character that would be memorable if you played it well. cooper was the lead, a sheriff with a heart of gold, and you were his loveable, naive deputy.

feeling sick to your stomach was an understatement, you vividly remember looking in a mirror and seeing how sunken in your eyes were. you’d been trembling all morning, repeating your lines under your breath as you sweltered underneath the heat radiating from the floodlights that lit up the desert scene.

cooper approached you with that big smile of his, his teeth perfect. everything about him was perfect.

the two of you had run lines weeks and days before, but as you stared at him then, you felt your mind draw a blank. you weren’t going to make a good impression on anyone, especially him.

“you good, kid?” he asked you, head tilting as the makeup department did quick touch ups before the cameras started rolling.

“yeah. i’m great, never been better.” you forced a smile, which got a snort of laughter out of the esteemed actor.

“you’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, reaching over and giving your shoulder a few strong pats, “don’t worry, alright? remember that you’re here because you deserve it. you’ve got skill.”

the rest of the movie was a breeze.

cooper had stuck by your side since then, taking on a role like a mentor. he gave you acting tips, took you for coffee to meet with a better agent, and made sure you had all the connections you needed for making your career even bigger than his own.

you’re not even sure of the exact day you fell in love with him, but after a year of pining for him in secret, you knew you had to end things before trouble found its way to you.

then, he and barb divorced. so, like the devoted little mentee you were, you stayed by his side.

you helped him start up his gig work, which took weeks of convincing, and it only paid just enough to get the alimony to his ex-wife. you’d even started purchasing the dinners and coffees that you two love to frequent, knowing that at some point he wouldn’t be able to treat you as much as he used to.

cooper had become your lifeline, and this was the easiest way to repay him.

“why would you think that?”

cooper’s voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes readjusting to focus on the man sitting in front of you. he sat there with his brown eyes big and wide, the golden glow from your lamp creating a halo around his head.

“well, uh, you wouldn’t be the first to think that,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you dropped your gaze, full of shame.

he exhaled a heavy breath out of his nose, “i’d never do that to you, you know that,” his voice was a comfort to your broken heart, “look at me, i need you to see me say it,” you listened, eyes flickering up to meet his, “i will never ruin what we have over something that makes you… you,” he whispered, his hand holding yours, “you’re the same kid in my eyes and always will be.”

your bottom lip trembled as he spoke, his words digging deep into your heart and leaving you in a mess of emotions. you’d spent the last three days convincing yourself that life was over as you knew it, that all you worked for was just a heap of wood burning away into a pile of nothing.

cooper was a testament to the fact that things would be okay, even if the world wasn’t fair. after his divorce, you knew that he’d lost out on role after role, and if he managed to keep his pride, so could you.

“shit, coop, you’re so stupidly kind,” you laughed, tears rolling down your cheeks as intense emotions flooded you for the first time in months. you weren’t much of a crier, but these wouldn’t stop, “i don’t think there’s anyone in the world who’s as goddamn nice as you. it’s almost sickening how sweet you are.”

the man grinned, “don’t go rubbin’ that in, you’ll inflate my ego and you do not wanna’ see me like that.”

you let out a god-honest laugh for the first time in days, one that made your stomach flutter and leave your cheeks a little sore.

the days got easier after that night. cooper visited you every day, bringing you a coffee and lunch, not leaving until he got a smile out of you. the two of you would sit around chatting for hours, he’d tell you all the bullshit stories of the gigs he’d picked up. he shared how barb was going to let him take janey to the gigs, too, and you saw how bright his eyes shined at the thought of getting to be with his babygirl, even for just a few hours in a day.

cooper reminded you that it was the little things that made life manageable.

a week later, he’d convinced you to go with him to see sugarfoot at her stable the day before a birthday gig, his first time that janey would tag along.

“hey, coop?” your voice was quiet as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes watching the trees pass by as you made way for the stable in a secluded area outside the city. the evening was warm and bright, filling the sky with hues of orange, red and pink.

“hm?” the man hummed, tilting his head to you, but not taking his eyes off the road.

“why me?”

his eyes flickered to you, “what do you mean?”

“why, uh… why’d you choose to mentor me?” you mumbled.

the car slowed down as you approached the turn-off to the stable, cooper looked back to road, “guess i can’t really get away with saying it was just outta’ kindness, huh?”

you chuckled, “i want the real answer.”

as you approached the ranch, cooper rolled the vehicle to a stop and shifted into park. you moved to open up the door, but his words interrupted you.

“you reminded me of myself when i was younger,” he answered honestly, turning his head to look at you, “i figured helpin’ you out would heal my soul, or somethin’ like that.”

“how selfish of you,” you snorted, “and to think i thought you did it out of love.”

you kept laughing to yourself after you spoke, opening up the passenger door and getting out to stretch your long limbs. you turned to look over at cooper, able to see him over the roof of the car, and it was then you noticed the red blush that coated his cheeks. he couldn’t hide it from you, even if he tried.

“c’mon, coop,” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as you stepped around the vehicle, motioning for the older man to follow, “you don’t have to admit your love to me yet, just shower me in presents and i’ll know it’s true.”

“you’re a real pain in the ass. you know that, right?” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

neither of you needed to admit it out loud just yet, the look you shared spoke more than words could.

“i do,” you said through a smile, leaning into his touch as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss to your temple.

you leaned back, taking one long, good look at cooper. he was breathtaking under the evening sun, his skin radiant. you’d never seen him so happy.

“thank you for everything,” you said.

the colour of my sky. you set my world on fire. and i know, i know everything’s gonna’ be alright.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #pre war cooper #fallout fic #angst with a happy ending

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alexa-mwll · 6 months ago

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Anastasia Pérez Ivanov.

PERSONAL INFORMATION:

Name: Anastasia, Pérez Ivanov

Alias(es): La Baronesa (Baroness)

Height: 1.58

Eye color: Blue with gray

Hair color: Chestnut blonde

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Native language(s): Spanish

Other spoken language(s): Portugués, Ruso, Inglis.

Nationality: Mexican

Date of birth: 1961, March 8

Birthplace: Rosarito BC, México.

Current residence: Rosarito BC, México.

PERSONALITY AND TRAITS:

Potentially dangerous if threatened.

Multiple personality disorder, she calls herself the Baroness. (When she doesn't like something, The Baroness takes Anastasia's place).It is being treated with medications, danger level 40%.

Knows how to act under control and stress perfectly.

PROFESSION AND SKILLS:

Professional Background and main skill: Expert in: Military strategy, armory, infantry, logistics in weapons of war, guerrilla warfare, special operations, Clandestine operations, Sniper shooting and Parachute Rifle Corps.

Current Profession /Occupation: Special Forces High Command; Airmobile Group of Special Forces, (GAFE).

FUN FACTS;

She mostly likes to spend time surrounded by happy people (Friends), she likes drawing and dogs, and she was the first woman in all of Mexico to take the special forces course at the age of 15 thanks to the influence of her half-Russian family.

AFFILIATIONS:

Special Clandestine Officer Russell Adler.

Aleksandra Clarke R. (Rank: Psy-Ops Specialist). @alypink

Yume Sieheart (Specialist doctor) @cyberghostdraws

Vasili (Bell) Sokolov @welldonekhushi

Special Agent Jason Hudson (Indirectly)

Special Operative (Master Sergeant) Frank Woods (Indirectly)

Special Operative (Captain) Alex Mason (Indirectly)

Lawrence Sims (Indirectly)

Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay (Indirectly)

Helen Park (MI6)

BACKGROUND STORY:

Anastasia grew up in a lonely and cold home, she always wondered where her parents were, the only affection she had as a child were the words of the maids and butlers in that house, until she met him, Alexander Ivanov, a man who called himself her uncle, he was in charge of finishing raising our girl who was only 10 years old, he never told her because he was close to her family, Anastasia grew up within a Military indoctrination, her uncle said that It was necessary and that she would have an important role in the course of the Cold War and the so-called Operation Desert Storm (Gulf War, Persian).

5 years later, at the age of 15, Alexander, her uncle, sent her to the Mexican Special Forces Corps, and Alexander disappeared. Leaving Anastasia alone once again. (During her time in the special forces Anastasia suffered a serious accident which left her distraught, causing her to become what she fears so much every time she was in dangerous moments: The Baroness.)

It was there that 5 years later she received a visit at her house from a man who called himself Russell Adler, Special Agent of the CIA, managing to hire her to do outside work within the Cold War, in a small faction of the Nicaraguan Contras. , which had information from Perseus. Anastasia became Adler's secret informant, thus managing to uncover spies, until the day of Adler's disappearance.

Anastasia was left in suspense and began to look for Adler, until she ran into Aleksandra, where a friendship began, the rest... is merely classified.

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ajaxstar · 2 years ago

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Mr. Perfectly Fine — Part 2

characters: childe x gn!reader

genre: angst

note: finally able to form a plot for part two after so long!

Part 1 — 🜸 “Mr. Perfectly Fine” (angst - childe x gn!reader)

tartaglia never turns his back to the tsaritsa — ever.

he knows that every order her majesty commands is for the best interest of teyvat. he does not dare speak ill of the cryo archon behind her back; aftecr all, he holds nothing but respect and admiration towards her majesty. she keeps his nation, his home, his family safe in her protection no matter how the cold weather may often cause frostbites. she is the one who bestowed upon him electro in the form of a delusion, who is he to dare be a traitor?

the eleventh harbinger carries out his mission thoroughly and makes sure to finish it as he is the one who starts it.

the eleventh harbinger makes sure he knows everything he must do to fulfill her majesty's orders.

the eleventh harbinger never says 'no', neither does he doubt the plans of the tsaritsa.

unfortunately, even if it involves you.

the second childe has finished reading the new orders written in the letter he received, he couldn't believe it. he, in the first time in his life, thinks of an alternative to carry out the absolute command of the tsaritsa. he's aware that taking action differently than her majesty's strict commands are the same as going against her.

apparently, he was strictly given an order to seduce the heired daughter of one of the wealthiest families in liyue in order for him to have her reveal every single secret and for her to lead him to their home, kill them one by one, and call it a day.

he wonders why the archon who was formerly known as the archon of love can give him an order that disagrees with the whole concept of "love", mostly for the reason that her majesty stated that she's aware of his current relationship and commands him to sever ties with his lover in order to thorougly carry out this mission without fail.

however, he's faced with the confession of the daughter herself and his mind wanders to the letter from the archon and to you. yet before he could at least tell you the truth, he finds himself accepting the confession and the kiss that the heir places upon him, too engulfed by his duties as the eleventh harbinger.

but it doesn't eradicates the disgust he feels towards himself as he moved his lips against someone else's unfamiliar pair, and it certainly does not prevent the loath he feels towards himself when he saw you watch him kiss someone else who isn't you before walking away with tears in your eyes.

the day childe finally arranges a date when he could meet you and talk to you, hoping he'll be able to tell you the truth, he receives intel from his agents that the woman's family hired their own investigator to make certain that he was 'loyal and true' to their daughter. hence, the only thing he could do was act happy and nonchalant about the former relationship he shared with you.

his heart broke and shattered to smithereens as his ever-so perceptive eyes watched your hand almost reach out to his own, only for you to stop yourself. it doesn't lessen the ache in his chest when he knows that the negative signs he's picking up from you are all caused by him and his actions.

it breaks him even more to hear from xiangling that you have been missing work for over a month by now. the fact that he knows he is the reason behind all of this destroys him.

he, in all of him, misses you — dearly. he misses the way you'd hold him, kiss him, cherish him, protect him love him.

away from the prying eyes of the fatui and the investivators, or all that watches him, he had tried countless times visiting your home; knocking on your door with the same rhythm that informs you it's him. despite knowing that you are inside, he never attempts to invite himself in, wanting to respect your boundaries for all the awful stuff he had done to you and your relationship with him.

he wanted to talk, to tell you the whole truth that he never wanted this, he was ordered.

hope blossoms in childe's heart when he sees you open the door and stand in front of him, his wide and shocked-filled eyes staring into yours that he adores so much. he was about to speak before you beat him to it, "please stop knocking on my door, lord tartaglia. i believe that i do not have business neither do i owe anything to the fatui."

he feels a lump in his throat that he pushes down by swallowing thickly, "it..." his voice shakes. "it concerns us."

"i don't have anything to say anymore, childe." your voice softened, and for a moment childe saw the soft, yet saddened look you gave him.

"please, [name], give me a chance."

"for what!?" your eyes shimmered this time, but not with the sparkles he always preferred as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. you hugged your own arms in an attempt to calm the way your body shook while tears finally fell.

childe's eyes widened and his hands reached out, but you have swatted his hands away from you before his skin could make contact with yours. you know all too well that you'll come undone in his hold, his touch you missed — longed — so much.

on the other hand, he feels his heart ache so much as you brokedown in front of him whilst rejecting him. each word he uttered was only answered with a shake of your head and repeated 'no's in between your sobs. childe knew that you wanted him to leave. with determination and a silent apology in his mind that he neglects your boundaries to not touch you, he reaches out to hold your hand, only for you to jolt back and quickly backed away into your home without even standing up on your feet, shutting and locking the door to his face.

childe's hands continues to shake. he can still hear your muffled sobs against the door, so he knocks.

"leave me the fuck alone!"

he messed up.

he tremendously messed up. conflicted pain and made an unforgivable, unforgettable mistake — he thinks that he may have even caused you trauma — to the one person that accepted, completed, and loved him.

childe wishes to be hopeful that he soon will be able to at least talk to you, explain the truth, and leave the decision to you afterwards. he loves you, wants you, and he needs you. but childe remembers the horrified and guarded look in your eyes despite being covered in tears.

with his back on your front door, he looks up to the star-filled night sky, the same sky you and him would love watching together while tracing constellations, talking about everything, and held close by each other. now, childe looks up to the sky, it's as if the stars are making fun of him, mocking him.

for the first time tonight, he stands and follows your request to leave you alone.

taglist — @jameineliebe @amalthaeya @genshin-impact-writings @tsunotaro-san @r0ttenhearts @valen-nidk @ms-petunia-blue @1-clementine-1 @instantmillktea @ehddsnys @kiryoutann @coffeeoat @cherlynono @chxrry-ig @hanilessa

note: part 3 will be out soon ~

#꩜ — gi starworks #childe x s/o #childe x you #childe angst #childe x reader #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x s/o #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #childe imagines

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roach-works · 8 months ago

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Hi!!!! I recently read When the Wolf Comes Home and I loved the premise the where the fic was heading. I know it hasn't been updated since 2017 so I was wondering if there was any intention of finishing it? I know it's possible you've moved on from that fandom and that is totally fine! If you are, would it be possible to share where you wanted to take the fic? Thank you, I absolutely loved your writing!!!

im a little stuck on that one because yeah i do sometimes noodle a little more on it and i had a pretty solid plot for the first year, after which i was going to be Very Firmly Done because so many rewrites attempt to take on the whole seven year span and founder on the complexity. but the problem is im really ambivalent and undecided on how much i want to participate in harry potter fandom at this late date, with JKR going mask-off nazi sympathizer. it's a weird situation where you can't argue for death of the author when the author is annoyingly alive and arguing that you should be dead.

im deeply reluctant to denounce people still participating in a fandom that i myself found incredibly fun and rewarding for, yknow, several decades of my life, and i don't think i'm better than them, just fortunate to be more interested in other projects.

but ambivalence towards the fandom and deep resentment towards the creator aren't really a productive headspace to actually write in, and i also don't want to finally work through my own doubts, finish another chapter, and then get my head torn off by people who are certain that i'm supporting JKR's toxic fuckwittery.

all in all it's easier and more rewarding to play with other fandoms and work on my many original projects.

where the fic was going:

as far as i remember, in When The Wolf Comes Home, draco was going to get his dad to hire lupin as his defense against the dark arts tutor and rent out the shrieking shack for the man to work out of, thus circumventing the curse on the DADA position and giving draco a werewolf mentor and independent bolt-hole.

quirrelmort was going to continue trying to figure out how to use or dispose of draco on his way to get the philosopher stone, a side-plot draco knew almost nothing about. draco would continue to try to maneuver harry into quirrel's way and snape out of his way, with indifferent success. harry and ron, lacking any voice of reason to temper their enthusiastic partnership of 'baby griffindors looking cool in front of their first real friend ever', would continue to believe that draco, the saddest wet puppy, was an evil monster and the cause of all their misfortunes. draco would continue to be the most mentally and emotionally unstable kid in the castle, taking all the heat off neville, who would end up looking fairly cool and collected by comparison. rita skeeter would feature somewhere in there, hired by narcissa to write little puff pieces on how tragic and brave draco was being about going to school with such a tragic disability.

remus lupin would end up with a full schedule tutoring DADA students about to take their NEWTs and OWLs and make a bunch of money. with lucius as his patron and PR agent, he would be accepted in hogsmeade as a dashing and heroic warlock who had been off having reams of secret agent adventures as dumbledore's key man in the muggle world. remus would not really know what to do with this but eat as much as possible and smile gamely when lucius showed him off to people.

eventually towards the end of the year quirrel would get rid of draco by orchestrating a fight between ron and draco where ron cut his fist on draco's teeth. this would count as a bite and draco would get thrown in azkaban and belatedly realize that he had completely and totally forgotten about sirius black's whole Saddest Wet Dog situation. sirius would do his best to take care of his tiny insane werepuppy cousin until the malfoys and longbottoms and weasleys combined to lever draco back out, using ron's ashamed testimony. draco would immediately turn around and reveal scabbers. the malfoys would end up looking like champions of truth and justice and the weasleys would, unfortunately, have to just stand there and smile gamely for the cameras.

while all this was happening harry would go after quirrel with hermione and neville and take him down. dumbledore would show up at the end, when voldemort was defeated and sirius was exonerated and several deep family feuds had been laid aside, to dispense twinkling paternal wisdom.

draco would kick him in the fork.

THE END.

#time traveling baby werewolves #writing #fic

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cantsayidont · 1 year ago

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August 1984. This won't change anyone's feelings about cult movie perennial THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI: ACROSS THE EIGHTH DIMENSION one way or the other, but if you're wondering what the hell the deal is supposed to be with Buckaroo Banzai and his team, the answer is, "It's an obvious pastiche of the pulp hero Doc Savage."

Launched in 1933, Doc Savage was one of the leading adventure heroes of the pulp magazines. Doc (whose full name was Clark Savage Jr.) was scientifically trained from childhood to the peak of human perfection, singularly adept in everything from mechanical engineering to medicine to martial arts. He had a secret headquarters called the Fortress of Solitude and a whole array of specially designed vehicles and equipment, but he was also a public figure, with offices in the Empire State Building. Doc had a team of eccentric, highly specialized aides — Monk Mayfair, Ham Brooks, Renny Renwick, Long Tom Roberts, and Johnny Littlejohn — who each had a particular skill and a couple of distinctive personality traits (for instance, Monk was a skilled industrial chemist, but also an "ape-like" brute with a ferocious temper). They were sometimes aided by Doc's cousin, Pat Savage, who was almost as capable as Doc, although he tried to keep her out of the fray because she was (gasp) a girl.

This was a fairly common pattern for pulp heroes. For instance, the pulp version of the Shadow (who was distinctly different from the radio incarnation) relied on a whole network of agents, some appearing only once or twice, some recurring across many of his published adventures. From a narrative standpoint, the agents and assistants had two principal purposes: The first was to offset the rather overpowered heroes — pulp heroes didn't necessarily have superhuman powers, but even those who didn't tended to be preternaturally skilled at nearly everything, so it was convenient to limit their direct involvement in an adventure to crucial moments, and let the assistants (who could be much more fallible) do much of the legwork. The second object was to beef up the characterization. Doc Savage was morally irreproachable as well as absurdly multi-talented, so there wasn't a lot to be done with him character-wise, while maintaining the mystique of a character like the Shadow required him to remain a fairly closed book.

Although the pulp heroes were a huge influence on early comic book superheroes like Superman and Batman, some of these conventions didn't translate well to other media: In a 13-page comic book story or half-hour radio episode, having too many characters was cumbersome (and expensive, where it meant hiring extra actors), and comic book readers normally expected to follow their four-color heroes quite closely, even before the breathless internal monologue became a genre staple. So, Superman inherited Doc Savage's Fortress of Solitude, but not his "Fabulous Five" assistants, while heroes like Batman and Captain America generally stuck with a single sidekick rather than a team of aides. Even the late Doc Savage pulp adventures (which ended in 1949) de-emphasized the assistants to keep the focus more on Doc himself. Ultimately, the pulp heroes didn't really have the right narrative center of gravity for visual media, which is why they've become relatively obscure, despite repeated revival attempts. The 1975 Doc Savage movie with Ron Ely, for instance, was a notorious commercial flop, and elements like Doc's childishly bickering assistants seemed odd and dated, even taking into account the film's nostalgia-bait '30s period setting.

What BUCKAROO BANZAI tried to do was to bring that old pulp hero formula into the modern era with a big infusion of '80s style and humor. Like Doc Savage, Buckaroo is a wildly gifted polymath (in the opening scenes, he rushes from performing brain surgery to test-driving his Jet Car through a mountain), so famous and important a personage that he puts the president of the United States on hold, and he surrounds himself with an array of brilliant, eccentric aides with silly nicknames who play in his rock band when they're not fighting crime or doing advanced scientific experiments.

Alas, judging by the poor box office returns, general audiences were no more amenable to the '80s version of this formula than they had been to DOC SAVAGE: MAN OF BRONZE nine years earlier, even with the 1984 film's extraordinary cast and memorably witty dialogue. Granted, even many of the movie's most diehard fans are baffled by the convoluted plot — a crucial expository scene where the leader of the Black Lectroids (Rosalind Cash) explains much of what's going on is nigh-incomprehensible without subtitles or closed captioning — but beyond that, THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI is essentially an extended riff on a particular slice of pop culture that had long since dropped out of the public consciousness, which is both part of its charm and also its commercial undoing, at least as mainstream entertainment.

(Also, if you're wondering, yes, the TOM STRONG series by Alan Moore and Chris Sprouse is also an obvious Doc Savage pastiche, although at least some of its plot and character concepts were probably retoolings of unused ideas from Moore's earlier Maximum Press/Awesome Comics SUPREME series, which was an extended pastiche of the pre-Crisis Superman.)

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xynczachrome · 1 year ago

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OC TIME!! OC TIME!!

Garmadon's Reign AU: Tino and Zyro

After Tino left the group, Zyro felt lost on what to do since everyone had pretty much left. Not knowing what to do or where to go, they stayed with Wu until Garmadon had returned and took over Ninjago.

They were imprisoned for quite some time, but managed to outsmart the shadows and escaped.

At first, they weren’t going to do anything drastic and wanted to lay low to remain safe. But, upon seeing the pain and suffering other people were going through, they couldn’t just hide.

So they took action by forming a rebellion. At first, people thought they were crazy and tried to return them to Garmadon to please their new king but they managed to escape each time.

It wasn’t until Jay and Nya joined that they were able to get the idea working. So, they became the first leader of a rebellion with more groups forming throughout the years.

The new rebellion leader was appalled to hear that their beloved was working for the dictator but eased up upon hearing his reasoning.

They formed a partnership with their beloved since it benefited their rebellion but also gave them a chance to see their beloved.

Though, out of fear of defectives within their rebellion, they kept this partnership a secret and used secret codes during 'fights'.

---

After Kai, Nya and Jay left, Tino was next to go since he didn't trust Wu and decided to continue his mercenary work, only to be hired by Garmadon himself when he was freed from the Underworld and soon became Zyro's double agent when he met up with them one time.

Although he didn't agree, he had to do what was ordered so that Garmadon doesn't become suspicious of him since he wanted to find his weakness. To help the others in case they got back together. Even if it involves things that are morally wrong.

One night, Garmadon decided to introduce Tino to his son, Lloyd who was just a child at that time and he decided to care for the kid for when Garmadon was too busy being the dark lord he wanted to be instead of being Lloyd's father.

When he saw Wu in the dungeon, Tino honestly wasn't surprised since Garmadon had spoken ill about his brother countless times but there were times when the mercenary wondered why he went through the trouble of keeping him imprisoned.

Seeing Cole and Zane was a shock for him since he didn't expect them to be working for Garmadon or for Zane to not even be human.

However since he never took off his mask in the palace of shadows, Cole never knew that the mercenary that Garmadon hired was actually Tino and Zane had his memories locked so he had no recollection of the ninja at all.

The only one who knew it was him behind the mask was Zyro who has kept his secret the whole time.

---

Check out the others!:

-Garmadon and Lloyd

-Cole and Zane

-Nya and Kai

-Jay and Garmadon (Reformed)

#ninjago garmadons reign au #ninjago #ninjago fandom #ninjago fanart #ninjago oc #oc #oc art #oc: tino #oc: zyro #zyro mayari #tino knightsbridge #tino tingz #angsty tino #ninjago original character #original character #ninjago ocs #ninjago au #au #i love me some angst

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mariacallous · 11 days ago

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He wasn’t kidding. Donald Trump really does want to rule as an extremist strongman, with contempt for the planet, for America’s allies and for the rule of law. He’s made that crystal clear this week, announcing one bombshell appointment after another, each one a declaration of intent. Few things tell you more about a president than their hires – personnel is policy, as they used to say in Ronald Reagan’s White House – and Trump is telling us exactly who he is.

The latest name added to the roster is a storied one: Robert F Kennedy Jr, now lined up for the role of health secretary. You may have known of Bobby Kennedy. Bobby Kennedy may be a hero of yours. But, boy, his son is no Bobby Kennedy. Once an admired environmental campaigner, now he is an anti-vaxxer conspiracy theorist who promotes treatments that don’t work – such as hydroxychloroquine for Covid – and rails against those that do, spreading the long-debunked claim that childhood vaccines are linked to autism and opposing fluoridation of water to prevent tooth decay. Apparently unchastened by the pandemic, Kennedy believes US public health officials have been too focused on infectious diseases. Or as he memorably put it: “We’re going to give infectious disease a break for about eight years.” If deadly pathogens could lick their lips, they would.

At least the RFK nod was not a surprise: Trump had long said he wanted to let Kennedy “go wild” with the nation’s health. More of a jawdropper is the new president’s choice for attorney general, the most senior law enforcement officer in the land: Matt Gaetz. For two years, Gaetz was under federal investigation for child sex trafficking and statutory rape. (No charges were brought.) Until this week, his fellow members of the House of Representatives were running their own ethics committee inquiry into Gaetz – handily halted, thanks to his resignation just days before they were about to report – examining, besides the allegations of underage sexual abuse, accusations that he engaged in illicit drug use, displayed to colleagues, on the floor of the House, nude photos and videos of previous sexual partners, converted campaign funds for personal use and accepted gifts banned under congressional rules.

Some wonder if naming such a man as head of the US justice department is a diversionary tactic, designed to distract attention from the clutch of other nominations that are scarcely less outrageous, in the hope that those will look reasonable by comparison. In this view, Trump knows that Gaetz will never be attorney general, that his nomination will be blocked in the Senate where, even though the Republicans have a majority, too many will balk. Gaetz is chum, thrown into the water to satisfy the piranhas, so that Trump can quietly ensure his other nominees get through. And what a rum bunch they are.

As director of national intelligence, overseeing 18 separate intelligence agencies including the CIA and NSA, Trump has turned to Tulsi Gabbard, a fringe Democratic congresswoman before she defected to the Republicans, best known for meeting Bashar al-Assad while the Syrian dictator was busy slaughtering hundreds of thousands of his own people, and for parroting Kremlin talking points.

When Russia invaded Ukraine, Gabbard was swift to blame the west, even repeating the Moscow propaganda line that the US had stationed secret biolabs across Ukraine. One of Vladimir Putin’s mouthpiece TV channels took to referring to Gabbard as Russia’s “girlfriend”. When asked if she was, in fact, a Russian agent, the talking head on the Kremlin-backed network replied: “Yes.” Now consider that at the core of the US relationship with its allies – including Britain – is intelligence-sharing and ask yourself whether the likes of MI6 could in all conscience share what they know with such a person.

Her proposed counterpart over at the Pentagon, set to be in charge of the mightiest, richest military in human history, is the weekend host of Fox News’s breakfast show, Pete Hegseth. Admittedly, he served in Iraq and Afghanistan – and as a prison guard in Guantánamo Bay – but Hegseth has never run a whelk stall, let alone one of the world’s biggest organisations, employing close to 3 million people. His rank inexperience would be worrying enough, until you become familiar with what he believes.

He’s covered in tattoos, including symbols favoured by the Christian nationalist far right, among them the slogan Deus Vult and the Jerusalem cross, which celebrates the medieval Crusades when Christians earned their spurs slaughtering infidel Muslims and Jews. These days, he backs the ultra-right Jewish fundamentalists who seek to rebuild the ancient temple on Jerusalem’s Temple Mount, the site revered by Muslims as al-Haram al-Sharif, a move so incendiary it’s a byword for triggering holy war.

Hegseth will find company in Trump’s choice of ambassador to Israel, former Arkansas governor and evangelical Christian Mike Huckabee. Like Hegseth, Huckabee is against a two-state solution, insists on calling the West Bank by its biblical Hebrew name – Judea and Samaria – and is adamant that “There’s no such thing as an occupation.” In 2008 he said, “there’s really no such thing as a Palestinian”.

All of which makes you wonder how those many Arab and Muslim American voters in Michigan and elsewhere, persuaded that Trump had to be a better option for the Palestinians than Kamala Harris, feel now.

We’ve barely got to Lee Zeldin, Trump’s choice to head the Environmental Protection Agency, despite having repeatedly voted against clean water and clean air legislation, and having expressed doubts over whether climate breakdown is “as serious a problem” as people say it is. Or to the self-confessed puppy killer who will head the Department of Homeland Security. Or indeed the man who will lead the new department reviewing government contracts, including, in an arrangement open to spectacular corruption, contracts with his own companies: namely, Elon Musk.

Still, you get the picture. How, then, to make sense of these choices? Some hope it’s no more than an opening bid by Trump, the arch-negotiator: offer the Senate something obviously unacceptable, then haggle from there. Others wonder if it’s part of a dark, deliberate strategy, by which Trump, the agent of chaos, appoints those who are not so much disruptors as wreckers, men and women who can be relied on to make the agencies they lead collapse in failure. When the federal government is a smoking ruin, then all power will have to reside in the single man at the top.

My own view is simpler. At the heart of it is the quality all would-be strongmen value most: loyalty. Trump knows that a character as tawdry as Gaetz, despised by his own colleagues, would owe everything to him. As attorney general, he would do whatever Trump asked, working his way through Trump’s enemies list, prosecuting whoever had crossed his boss, delivering the retribution Trump yearns for.

What’s more, Gaetz and the rest are a kind of test, one that Putin deploys often. You push your allies to defend what they know cannot be defended, to make concessions they would once have considered unpalatable. As the analyst Ron Brownstein put it this week, “Each surrender paves the way for the next.” It is, he says, “a cardinal rule of strongman dominance”.

So now it is up to the Republicans in the Senate. Will they abase themselves yet further, and nod through this parade of ghouls and charlatans? Or will they at last find their backbone and say no to the would-be autocrat who has taken over their party and now looms over all three branches of the US government? After all we’ve seen these last eight years, what do you think is the answer?

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mcflymemes · 1 year ago

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PROMPTS FROM HITMAN: WORLD OF ASSASSINATION * assorted dialogue from the video game, adjust as necessary

majestic, isn't it?

someone knows about us.

we received your message. loud and clear, might i add.

i dare say the possibilities are endless.

the situation... it's complicated.

this could be dangerous, and i thought you deserved to know. so... now you know.

in his own special way, he cares about you... and vice versa.

i didn't catch your name.

that's for you. keep it on you at all times.

i have seen the consequences. i have felt the cost. that's what defines me.

none of you are safe anymore.

someone's been meddling in our affairs.

that's why we're hiring you to take him down.

if it seems like a conspiracy, it probably isn't.

i hope you know what you just did.

does it matter? i was told there'd be no second chances.

anyone can kill.

get out of my sight.

they sent me here to spy on him.

don't believe everything you hear.

very well. it's your show.

look, i'm not an asshole. of course i'm concerned.

so what happens now?

you do catch on fast.

i want us to meet. your room.

all right. consider it done.

i think technology hates me.

you can't be trusted.

i have found that whoever wields the sword decides who holds the pen.

smile, [name]. your reputation is safe.

there are no second chances. not here.

maybe i'm not the only one being tested.

i read your case file. impressive work.

do you realize what kind of world you've been shaping?

i'm [name], i'll take you to your quarters.

someone likes to keep secrets.

they kept you alive because they needed you and now they don't.

that part is my job.

when we need you, we will contact you.

i don't care which of you does it. it's mandatory.

he did not, however, factor me into the equation.

you're not a superhero. they don't exist.

for sure. i'll keep an eye out.

you did well, [name], i'm proud of you.

i followed you from italy.

that... is your target.

powerful men have fallen by your hand. but by the same token, others have risen.

knowing your enemy is only half the victory.

secrets are our stock-in-trade.

shit. still no answer.

i think we could help each other.

i think i'm in. but i want to be clear on a few details.

from what i hear, you have a few of your own.

i'm not like you, in case you're wondering.

if they can bend the rules, then so can i.

that's not a name.

you know the expression "know your enemy?"

tell me. what did it feel like, taking lives?

is that why you came here? why you let us test you?

i should leave you to prepare.

are you sure about this?

i don't believe it. i took every precaution.

all agents have weak spots.

give me a chance, [name].

our team found no records of any kind. no name, nothing.

are you still determined?

may i inquire why?

at first glance, an impossible task. then again, i do know how you love a challenge.

we will be watching.

how is this our problem?

i wish i had been informed.

people die, [name]. it happens all the time, even to us.

there is no sign of forced entry. no alarms. nothing.

in the meantime, keep him under close watch.

perhaps i see possibility where others see limitation.

now you will do the same.

i play dirty. that's how you defeat a stronger opponent. you strike from behind.

well, this is just fabulous, isn't it?

good. i'll be upstairs.

this was no coincidence.

i should tell you, the trail went dead after romania.

you're making us look bad.

this is the universe's way of telling you to quit, to get out of the game while you still can.

can i offer you a drink?

i thought they were a myth.

someone's playing a game, [name]. the question is... against whom?

we can't allow ourselves to be manipulated.

so... what are we actually doing here?

i just pulled some strings.

i thought that was the point?

i will take full responsibility.

vary your strategy. improvise.

i can't believe we beat him at his own game.

his death will not be investigated.

i know you don't care about politics.

i guess when you're invisible, you stop looking over your shoulder.

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

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Hotch x Male!reader - this thing I keep inside

I was wondering if I could request criminal minds Aaron Hotchner x Male reader - the team go on a case where the the unsub is killing their victims the same way as you would the werewolf. Reader's been with the team for a few years he has secrets he wouldn't tell a soul, that what goes bump in the dark is real or the monster of dog that attacked him shouldn't exist and he should be dead! What would happen if the truth came out? - @xweirdo101x 💜

Sitting in the seat, staring out the window of the jet, you couldn’t focus on the rolling clouds, the noise of the turbulence or the fact people were talking.

You were lost inside of your very own head.

You turned your attention back to the file in front of you, you flicked it open and began to look through some of the crime scene photos.

“Someone’s deep in thought.” Derek chuckled.

You said nothing as you carried on looking at the file, certain words screaming out at you.

Single shot.

Bullet.

Close range.

Made of silver.

All of these things were screaming at you that you shouldn’t be in this case, that it wasn’t safe for the likes of you.

You were in grave danger.

But you said nothing.

“Is he alright?” JJ whispered.

Everyone looked towards one another then back at you as you went back to looking out of the window deep in thought.

“You know what he gets like when he’s thinking.” Rossi said.

“Yeah, he’s like Reid he goes quiet then blurts it all out.” Emily chuckled.

They all laughed at that and went back to what they were doing aside from Hotch, who walked over and sat opposite you.

“What’s on your mind (Y/N)?”

You turned your eyes towards Hotch and gave him a little smile.

“Nothing, just remember some things is all.”

He narrowed his eyes a little.

You were a man of many secrets, you had things even the team didn’t know about you and they all knew that.

It was near impossible for them to profile you, and they could never tell if you were telling the truth or not.

So Hotch studied you for a moment but he couldn’t decipher whether you were lying to him.

“You would tell us if it were anything?”

“Of course I would.”

All he could do was nod his head, and take the file from you, closing it to set it aside before he went looking at you.

Studying you.

He was trying to get a read on you but he couldn’t pick anything up.

So he got up, grabbing his things and came to sit with you again while he worked, neither of you saying anything.

As you landed, your first stop was the morgue, you wanted to speak to the M.E. who was conducting the autopsies on the victims.

So you dumped your stuff in your hotel room and made your way over there, giving everyone a brief idea of what you were doing before you left.

Pushing the door open, you immediately recognised the smell that hit your nose, and by the way the woman’s head shot up she did as well.

“I wasn’t aware the FBI hired the likes of us.” She said.

“They aren’t either, we don’t have much time. I’m Agent (L/N).”

“Luna, how long do we have?”

“Maybe half an hour before one of my time get here I need to know what you can tell me that they can’t know.”

Luna nodded her head and gestured for you to come over, and she turned the body over so you could see the man’s shoulder.

“All of them have a tattoo on their left shoulder blade, that was the first indication of what they were. Different ones though none the same as of yet. And they absolutely reek of mistletoe.”

“So they were poisoned?” You asked.

“No, just drenched in it. It burn but unless ingested it can’t kill us.”

You slowly nodded your head.

Then she turned the body back over and showed you the chest, which had a bullet wound in, and dark veins around it.

“It wasn’t close distance though, I’d say maybe a few feed away. The veins are just from where the silver entered the system but they die before it can travel.”

“Right. So it’s definitely a hunter then.”

“There’s no doubt about it, if I’m being honest I’d say given these styles of killings their looking for information.”

You two carried on talking quietly, and you both looked up when the door opened.

“Hotch.”

“What did you find?”

“I’ll let Luna tell you herself.”

He nodded and you walked over to join him, and he began asking some questions and Luna gave him different answers but still what he needed to know.

Every so often you would glance at the man next to you, making sure he was buying the slightly twisted truth which he was.

When he was done you both left and you walked over to the SUV, leaning against the drivers door.

“If there’s a new body every few days, I suppose it’s a safe bet to say another will turn up by tomorrow.” You said.

“We only less than 24 hours to find our missing man, and hardly any leads to go on.”

Hotch gestured for you to go around so you got into the passenger side and furrowed your brows.

You wanted to save this one, you didn’t want to lose anyone else if you could help it.

So you were connecting all the information you had inside your head as you walked into the police department and to the room you were using.

Sitting down, you grabbed the laptop and began searching for things.

“What you found?” Rossi asked.

Everyone looked over at you.

“Well the M.E. mentioned mistletoe. Unless you grow it on your own, it wouldn’t be found in the quantities that was found on the bodies.” You explained.

“I can have Garica help you narrow that list.” Derek said.

You nodded and pushed the laptop over to him and stood up to stare at the bored.

“It could narrow our search but it doesn’t help us with a profile, we still have no idea what kind of person we’re looking for.” Emily said.

You nodded your head and you looked over to Hotch as he began to leave.

“I’m going to speak to the Thomas’ family.”

“I’ll come with you.”

He nodded his head and you joined him.

You spoke about the case on the way over, and you carefully studied the area as you two walked up towards the door.

The family were hesitant on letting Hotch in, but as they looked at you they finally agreed to speak to you both.

Hotch asked the questions and you looked around the home.

“Im sorry sir, could you help me move this box please?” The woman asked.

“Of course I can ma’am.”

She said waited for you to follow her through to the other room and she gestured for you to pick up a box which was empty.

“You’re looking for the hunter?” She asked you.

“We are. Can you tell us anything to help?”

“I can tell you a new man moved into town just before all this started. My husband will tell your friend the same thing.”

“Have you met him?”

“Not formally. But I’ve seen him, he lurks around the nightclub, it’s in the old wear house district. It’s for our kind so we all noticed a strange human hanging around.”

“Is there any working cameras do you know? Would it be safe to ask my friend back at HQ to look at the footage without anything being shown?”

“Absolutely, we’re carefully jot to show ourselves until we get past that final camera. I want you to catch this bastard.” She snarled.

You looked at her and she turned her head towards the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m so angry.. we all are…”

“I understand, and I will do what I can. Even if I have to come back on my own.”

She snapped her head towards you.

“You’d do that?”

“If it means protecting my own, then yes.”

She nodded her head and studied you.

“You don’t want to be this do you?”

“I never asked for it, but I know the fear we all face because of people like this.”

You went quiet as Hotch walked in and you placed the box on the other end of the room.

“There’s a camera outside the club we all go to.” The woman said to him.

“Thank you for your time. (L/N).”

You followed him and he stopped you just outside the car.

“What were you talking about?”

“She was tell me about her son, he was a good person Hotch. They all were.”

“That’s why we need to stop this unsub as soon as possible.”

You nodded in agreement and turned around, but stopped and walked across the road to the lamppost.

Attached it it was a photo of you circled in red pen, then words monster scrawled all over it and you looked around with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t think it’ll be that hard…” you spoke lowly.

You handed it over to Hotch and looked at him, your eyes locking with his.

“Get in the car, now.” He said sternly.

Hotch all but pushed you in the car and raced you back to the station where you were dragged to the middle of the room and everyone called over.

Hotch let them all know you were now a target and you weren’t to leave the building or be unattended at any given point.

And you weren’t, a few hours went by and while everyone else came and went you were stuck inside, Hotch glued to your side.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You have an unsub targeting you, that isn’t my definition of fine.” He said.

You sighed a little bit and took him to a quiet hallway and looked around before turning your attention towards him.

“Aaron, I will be fine. Okay? Just focus on catching this bastard.”

“The others have that covered, it’s my job to look after you.”

You sighed and placed your hand on the back of his head, pulling him down and gently pressing your lips to his forehead before you let go.

“I’m stronger than I look Aaron, I promise.”

“That won’t stop me from worrying (Y/N), not until we know you’re safe for good. So, I’m staying right here by your side.”

“Alright.”

You knew once he put his mind to something you couldn’t stop him from doing whatever it was he wanted to do.

So the pair of you walked back to the room just as an officer came through.

“There’s a phone call for the FBI agents.” She said.

“Put us through.” Hotch said.

You, Hotch, the chief of police, Rossi and Reid all crowded around the small phone to listen.

“You’re on with Agent Hotchner, who am I speaking to?” Hotch asked.

“I want the monster you are hiding in that station.”

They all looked confused and you sat down on the chair.

“Alright, you want me, I’m here. What do you want from me?” You asked.

“I have something you want.”

“You mean Jonas?”

There was a cruel laugh.

“No, although I do have Jonas. He isn’t looking too good though, but I suppose you lot don’t when you make them sit in mistletoe. But that’s not what I have that you want agent (L/N).”

“What is it that I want?”

“The person who created you.”

Your blood ran cold and you felt everybody turn their eyes towards you.

“You know you can break the curse. But you need the one who turned you. I know who did this.”

You clenched your jaw a little bit.

“What do you get in return?” You asked.

Hotch tapped your shoulder and you held your hand up towards him.

“I let Jonas go, I get you.”

“Absolutely not.” Hotch said.

“Do we have a deal agent (L/N).”

You listened carefully to the phone call as it went silent.

“No.”

You hung up and you looked up at Hotch who nodded his head and gestured to the laptop where Garcia was working.

“We’re talking about whatever your hiding after this case.” Hotch snapped.

You knew it was a ploy, the man wouldn’t be there when the team got there, but it gave you time.

So you waited, and when it was safe you excused yourself to the bathroom and went through the back entrance to the station.

Jogging down the street, you followed the strong scent of mistletoe.

The unsub had been here, leaving this for you.

And it took you far out of the town, but you finally got there and kicked the door with your boot.

“Smart, you know it’s covered.”

The man opened the door and he aimed a gun at you, forcing you down into the basement and into the mistletoe that burned your skin.

“I wanted you.” He smirked.

He gestured to a camera that had a red flashing light, and you snarled a little as your skin burned.

He slammed the cell door shut and you stood there, breathing heavily.

“Jonas wasn’t a werewolf, he was just a fellow hunter helping me find you. And this is being broadcasted to all your little friends.” He mocked.

“Why do you want me?” You growled.

He smirked a little bit, and tossed something in there with you making you jump back as it rolled towards your feet.

Wolfsbane.

You looked back up, yellow eyes boring into his, completely ignoring the camera.

“Because with a werewolf as clever as you, I can lure all of them to me.”

“It won’t work.”

“Oh believe me it will, you just need a little extra push. How about I kill your friends too?”

You rushed forward, slamming your body against the bars, growling deeply, echoing of the walls.

The team watched in horror as they stared at what was once you, but now someone they didn’t recognise as the yellowish eyes shone through the camera.

“I swear to god if you hurt them I wear tear you limb from limb…” you whispered lowly.

“I’ll leave him for last. That one you’re so fond of, I wonder how he’s searching right now to seeing this monster he calls a boyfriend.”

You growled even louder, and slammed your hands on the bars, and you began to pace back and forth, ignoring the burning of the skin.

The man watched you for a moment.

“There is a cure you know. You kill the original werewolf who did this to you, and you’ll turn back to a normal human.” He mused.

You flicked your eyes to him.

“You help me, I’ll help you.”

“I’ll take that Damn heart out your chest…”

You crouched down and your bones cracked and broke, changing, and the team struggled to watch what was going on.

“Oh my god…” Garcia whispered.

You now stood tall, taller than you were, covered in black fur, yellow eyes beaming down as you snarled and growl, lunging for the bars only to stumble back when you were shot in the shoulder.

“Consider it a warning shot beast.” The unsub snarled.

You let out a roar that shook the camera and it fell down towards the ground and you back up into the corner on the room, scraping your claws into the ground.

Now they had two unsubs to find, and someone they thought they could trust who was now a large murderous monster waiting to attack.

Did they save you?

Did they leave you?

No one knew.

But they knew they needed to stop the unsubs before anyone else got hurt.

Hotch kept his eyes glued to you though, watching as the smoke rose from your burning skin as you touched the mistletoe.

The way you dug your claws into the ground again and again.

“We know where that is!” An officer shouted.

Everyone looked at him and they shared a look.

They were about to come face to face with something from their nightmares, and they didn’t know how to confront this sort of situation

#criminal minds #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #Hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #Hotch imagine #Aaron Hotchner #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron hotcner x you #Aaron Hotchner imagine

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maraschinomerry · 1 year ago

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hi lovely, adore your writing <3 i was wondering if i could get a lucy x fem!reader where lucy thinks she’s jealous of the reader cause she always thinks the readers so pretty and it’s just a lot of pining and everyone’s trying to make lucy realise she’s in love, and then one day she sees someone flirting with r and is like oh i’m not jealous i’m gay and just a lot of fluff and things thank yoy so much <3333

Chance Encounters

Pairings: Lucy Carlyle x fem!reader

Content: oblivious flirting, pining, self-esteem issues, kissing

A/N: what a way to get back into writing, this is one of my longest fics yet! Thanks for being so patient with me, hope you enjoy it 💙

Word count: 3.8k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Lucy flopped into her seat with a stack of books and a dejected huff. "Do Fittes have a secret beauty quota for new hires or something?"

Lockwood and George both began speaking at the same time from the other side of the table - Lockwood to assure her that she'd be a shoe-in if that were the case, George to protest that Kipps would never have been hired.

The team were in the British Archives researching a particularly tough case, when Kipps and his crew strolled in with their newest member. If Lucy had thought Kat was pretty, this new girl was on a whole other level. Girls like that always got the best jobs, the most attention from boys, all the perks. It just wasn't fair.

You kept close, tucked behind Kipps' shoulder, as your team strode with far more confidence than you through the maze of shelves. You'd only joined Fittes a week ago and were still getting used to all the rules, both written and unwritten. Kat had at least warned you in advance about the odds of running into Lockwood & Co, how fierce the rivalry was between their leader and yours.

"Ah, Tony," Kipps said ahead of you, and you almost ran into him with how little you'd been concentrating.

Whatever you'd been expecting the members of the infamous agency to be like, this wasn't it. The one scowling most intensely at your colleague must be Lockwood, not the older man you'd pictured but a thin, smartly dressed teenager with bags under his eyes almost as dark as his hair. He was only accompanied by two other people, a curly haired boy who was only visible down to his glasses over the top of an enormous stack of books, and a pretty brunette girl who hadn't taken her eyes off you from the moment you walked in. Her gaze was unwavering and unreadable, and you had to resist the urge to squirm.

You tuned back in. Kipps was speaking again. "Allow me to introduce (name), one of the most prestigious agents the country has to offer." It would have been embarrassing enough had he just called you prestigious, but the way he emphasised it made you wonder if it was some kind of dig at them. You tried to shrink further behind him, cheeks growing warm.

"I'm Lucy Carlyle," the girl suddenly blurted. Her eyes widened as though she was surprised by her own actions. The boys also looked at her, a little stunned. "I mean," she fumbled, "obviously just call me Lucy. This is Lockwood and George."

Learning her name finally made it click where you'd heard of the other agency. "Oh, you solved the Annabel Ward case! I remember seeing it on the news, you're amazing!"

Kipps elbowed you without subtlety, but you didn't miss the way Lucy's face changed. It was only brief, but there was a flicker of pride and something like awe.

"I was going to say the same to you!" Clearly she hadn't noticed Kipps' reaction, nor the unusual look her boss was shooting her. "I'd give anything to have been there when you fought that Rawbones, it sounded so impressive."

"Well," Lockwood chipped in at last, "when you get fed up of Kipps you know where to find us to exchange stories and advice." The flash of a glare he shot your boss was sharp as a rapier, but he smiled warmly at you.

You returned the smile. "Either way, I'm sure we'll run into each other again." Lucy met your eyes again, but where before she'd stared intensely, now she quickly averted her gaze. Odd. Kipps led you away before you could address the matter further.

—

Nearly two months went by without so much as a glimpse of Lockwood & Co. Part of you wondered whether Kipps was intentionally avoiding them, but you knew that was irrational - even he couldn't predict their movements all the time.

This proved true one Saturday afternoon, when you were sent on a last-minute errand to Satchell's. Your team was out of flares, Kat had said, and Fittes wouldn't get an official restock until Monday. Armed with your rapier, a wad of petty cash, and firm instructions not to return empty handed, you hailed a cab across town. It was a pleasant enough day, but you didn't much feel like walking. Best to get the supplies and get back to whichever task Kipps no doubt had lined up for you next.

Kipps wasn't a bad team leader, not by any stretch of the imagination. He was fair, mucking in on tasks and never asking anyone to do something he wouldn't be willing to do himself, and caring enough to always check in after a case. Nonetheless, it was clear this rivalry with the other agency had had an impact on him and made him so desperate to push himself, and by extension his team, to higher and higher standards. Frankly, it was a little exhausting.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realise you were running on autopilot until you reached for the handle to Satchell's door and another hand came to rest over yours. A streak of blue appeared in the corner of your eye, and you looked up to see a familiar brunette.

"Lucy, hi!"

The other girl jumped a little. "Oh, (name) I'm so sorry, I was in my own world there." You waved the apology away with your free hand, glancing briefly at the other under hers. She noticed, following your gaze, and quickly snatched hers back with a nervous chuckle. No longer at risk of accidentally smacking her with the door, you opened it and gestured for her to go ahead. She stepped in, reaching back to hold it open from within for you.

Inside was a maze of weaponry. Shelves upon shelves of neat packaging stamped with the Satchell's logo; you recognised many of them, of course, salt bombs and Greek fire and lavender water, but there didn't seem to be much logic to how they were laid out. Turning one corner brought you face to face with floor-to-ceiling silver-glass. Where did you start?

You'd frozen on the spot, and Lucy was a little way ahead of you before she faltered. She must have realised you were no longer behind her.

"Everything okay?"

You nodded unconvincingly. "Fine, I just… haven't actually been in here before."

"Oh, it's easy enough to find your way around once you know. They sort of organise by intensity so you can't get someone popping in the door and making off with an armful of bomb flares." You both giggled at the thought. "But, um, I can show you around a bit if you know what you're looking for?"

You felt your smile ignite, but she continued hurriedly without noticing. "Only if you want, I mean, the staff are super helpful here and they probably know more than me. Not that you can't figure it out on your own, you seem like one of those cool independent types so-"

Finally, you cut her off with a gentle hand on her arm. She stopped talking instantly, like you'd managed to find a secret 'off' switch, and actually looked as though she'd short-circuited entirely. Cautiously, shyly, you slid your hand down and through until your arm was linked with hers. 'Off' no longer pressed, she sprung back to life with a fierce blush.

As Lucy led you round the shop, she chatted away about the different types of defences on offer. She’d taken you to the flares you were looking for first, of course, but when you made no move to leave she took you along to gather her own supplies. She’d seemed so jittery at first, you almost worried she was uncomfortable having you there, but the more she spoke about her experience making her own salt bombs and the run-in she had with a bunch of ghostly monks and a bomb flare, the more confident she became. Something about seeing her so in her element helped you to relax as well. It broke the ice.

“So what’s it like at Lockwood and Co?” you asked eventually. You’d been curious about the other agency ever since that first meeting - nothing about them had been expected, and you wondered if maybe the impression Kipps had given was more biased than you thought.

Lucy glanced at you, arm deep in a shelf stocked to the brim with vials of lavender water (they stock from the back, she’d advised, so the fresh ones are the hardest to reach). She hadn’t expected the question, but the answer came naturally. “Great, actually. I came to London hoping to get in with one of the big agencies like Fittes, but I didn’t have any of the right papers so I ended up there as sort of a last resort. It was difficult to get used to at first, they’re not exactly by-the-book as you’ve probably heard from Kipps, but now I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Lockwood and George are like family.”

The final part hit you like a ton of bricks. That was what you’d felt missing in your team. They were all good people and had quickly grown to be your friends, but they didn’t feel like family. Fittes didn’t feel like home. And here was this girl, who before today had barely had a full conversation with you, guiding you round the shop like it was nothing and telling you how this funny little agency was just that. Home. A weight you didn’t even realise you’d been carrying shifted, working its way up from the pit in your stomach to your chest where it settled, resolute yet comforting.

You realised you were now the one staring when Lucy waved a fistful of vials at you. “I think that’s me sorted,” she nodded to the smartly dressed man at the till. You picked up your basket of flares from the ground, wrapping your other hand around the wad of cash in your pocket, and followed her lead.

—

The rosy hues of evening were beginning to drift across the sky when the two of you emerged onto the high street. You hadn’t realised how long it had been; Kipps would be wondering where you were. The weight in your chest and the smile on your face told you that you didn’t much care. Now that the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees it was much more pleasant, and a gentle breeze ruffled your hair, carrying a soft floral scent. There were no flowers nearby, and you wondered whether it came from the girl beside you. It was lovely, whatever it was.

“Thanks again Lucy, I’d still be lost in the first set of shelves if it wasn’t for you.” The laugh that got from her was as fresh as the breeze, and you couldn’t help but smile wider. It gave you the courage to continue and ask, “Could I walk you home?”

Lucy frowned, and you worried it was too forward. You’ve only met her twice, for goodness sake. “Isn’t Fittes the other way? I don’t want to drag you all the way across town for no reason.”

That was hopeful - she wasn’t concerned about your intentions but for your wellbeing. “I don’t really want to head back just yet,” you admitted. “Besides, you’ve got more bags than me, the least I can do is give you a hand after all your help in there.” She tried to protest, but you held out a hand and with some reluctance she handed one over until you had two each. “There’s something I need to ask Lockwood too, so…”

This was turning out to be a day full of surprises, because you couldn’t possibly have predicted what Lucy said next. “Oh, he’s single, if that’s what you want to know.”

All the breath in your chest rushed out at once, the weight pressing hard on your lungs. “What?”

Your shock was mirrored on her face. “I just… after you were both talking about meeting again in the Archives… and since he’s a bit of a charmer and you’re gorgeous, I figured-” The words died in her her throat as the blush returned, this time reaching up to the tip of her ears and down past the collar of her playsuit.

You fought to keep your smile from breaking into a full-blown grin. The poor girl looked like she wanted nothing more than for the pavement to open up and swallow her whole, and while it was so tempting to tease her a little and see how far that blush could spread you resisted. Plenty of time for that, if you’d read things right. For now, you gave a light chuckle. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ve been charmed by him.” You tried your best to give the right amount of emphasis on the fact it wasn’t by him, but it didn’t seem to help. Maybe you’d misunderstood. You hoped not. Maybe she was just embarrassed and not thinking about it properly. At any rate, she didn’t shy away when you tucked in close for the walk back.

—

Lucy paced anxiously through the library. George was curled in one of the armchairs with a comic; you and Lockwood were away in the living room, discussing goodness knows what. She hadn’t dared to ask any further on the walk home. She’d eventually plucked up the nerve to talk to you again after what she’d said (why on earth had she said it in the first place, she wondered) and found you to be so easy to talk to. You’d told her about life at Fittes, she’d told you about life in Portland Row. It sounded fun, chaotic at times but in a good way.

“Will you please sit down before you wear a hole in the carpet,” George groaned. Lucy sighed dramatically, but obeyed and slumped into the other chair. The lamplight cast unusual shadows across her face - it was well into the evening now, curfew had descended, so clearly whatever you had to discuss was of vital importance or you’d have gone back to Fittes by now.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

George didn’t look up. “I really couldn’t say, I don’t know her well enough.”

“Exactly, and Lockwood doesn’t know her very well either, so if she is trying to ask him out then-”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” George interrupted, dropping his comic with uncharacteristic urgency. “You really think that’s why she’s here?” He studied Lucy for a moment - the way she kept glancing at the door like she expected them to walk in hand in hand, the way her index finger tapped rapidly where her hand rested on the arm of the chair, the way her lip wasn’t curled with disgust or outrage but quivering with upset. “Oh my god, you’re jealous!”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Obviously I’m jealous, George. I know what it’s like with girls like her, they’re always one step ahead or one move beyond me. Just because they’re pretty it means they get everything.”

George’s comic was thoroughly neglected now, this was far more interesting. He had his suspicions about why she was reacting like this, but knew her well enough that he couldn’t just come out and say them or she’d deny it. She had to realise for herself. “Riiight, you’re jealous that she gets Lockwood and you don’t.”

Her nose wrinkled, the first confirmation of his theory. “Ew, no. He’s like my brother. I just don’t think it’s fair, is all. She’s been so sweet all day but as soon as there’s a better option I fade into the background again.”

Second and third confirmation: Lucy thought you were sweet (and he remembered she’d said pretty before, a fourth point on the tally) and, whether she realised it or not, had just called herself an option. George was getting more certain by the minute. God, as much as it hurt seeing her think so low of herself, he had to admit it was amusing trying to make her see that perhaps the ‘better option’ was the person you’d gushed over and pointedly said you hoped to see again and whose arm you’d been hanging off the whole afternoon, not the person you’d barely said five words to. “Got it, so you’re just jealous on principle, not of her specifically.”

“Right!” she said confidently.

“And it's nothing to do with you having feelings?”

“Right,” she said less confidently.

George didn’t say another word, just pushed himself up from the armchair and left the room.

Five minutes later, he returned with Lockwood in tow. The taller boy didn’t fully enter the library, just leaned round the door with an excitable twinkle in his eye.

“Ah, Luce, I was just about to give (name) a demonstration of the training area, if you want to come and help? I’m not sure her mind’s really on training at the moment.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, but Lucy only looked more disappointed than ever.

George grumbled under his breath, low enough that Lucy wouldn’t hear. “Is that your best attempt at acting coy?”

“Coy?” Lockwood hissed back. “I thought I was helping her realise that (name)’s crush isn’t on me, it’s on h-” A sharp elbow in his side cut him off. He returned to normal volume. “Anyway, she’s also going to stay over tonight, if you’re okay sharing your bed? Or I can always put her in-”

Lucy shot up. “No, no, I can share.” Her gaze flickered to George, who gave her a triumphantly smug grin. “And don’t worry about the training, I’ll go with her.” Lockwood matched the other boy’s grin, and ducked out again.

George made his way back to the armchair, Lucy’s eyes following him the whole way. Her expression was a conflicted mess - irritation at proving him right, amazement at her newly discovered feelings, worry and hope all blended together.

“So you were jealous that she might like Lockwood, but not for the reason you thought?” he asked gently. It wasn’t you she was jealous of, seeming to get his attention, but him for getting yours.

She shook her head, tears beginning to well as her lower lip wobbled. “Okay fine, you win, I have feelings! Still doesn’t change the fact she went straight for him. She doesn't like me the way… the way I like her.”

There was no more amusement to be had from this, and it broke George’s heart to see one of his closest friends so upset. He stood and pulled her into a hug, feeling her sniffle into his shoulder. “You know it was you she was talking to when she said about running into us again, right?” Lucy pulled back and looked at him incredulously, puffy cheeks bearing the telltale streaks of tears. She reached up and wiped them away vigorously with her cuffs. “And when Lockwood said she’s too distracted to train it’s not because she’s flirting with him, it’s because she didn’t shut up about you the whole time she was asking to join the agency.” Immediately, Lucy stopped scrubbing at her face. In fact, she stopped crying all together.

“She what?”

“Something about you showing her how much she was missing having a family, and she wants to be part of yours. And she has a bag of flares which technically she’s now stolen from Kipps to sweeten the deal, if you’ll have her. Lockwood said it’s your call.”

Lucy’s frantic rubbing resumed, trying to erase any evidence of her crying even as she hastily made her way to the door. George called after her, “Does this mean you finally acknowledge that I’m always right?” He laughed at the chain of expletives he got in response.

—

You were alone in the basement, admiring the collection of rapiers and trying not to overthink what was taking Lockwood so long, when Lucy came barrelling down the stairs. She skidded to a halt in front of you, breathing heavily and as flushed as she had been earlier.

“You were flirting with me?!” she gasped.

“I… yes?”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“That’s generally how flirting works, love.” Her face grew redder at the pet name. “You only just realised?”

She cast her eyes upwards. “George helped. I thought you were just being nice to get to Lockwood.”

“I told you it wasn’t him I was charmed by.” You wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She folded willingly into you, burying her incredibly warm face in the front of your blouse. The heat sparked something in your chest.

“You didn’t say it like that!” she whined.

“Well you know what I just realised?”

“What?”

“How cute you are when you’re flustered.”

“Really?” Her hands ran slowly down your back, coming to rest on your waist, and her eyes met yours before gliding down to your lips.

“No, of course not - I realised in the Archives.”

She smiled shyly, melting your heart even more. “I can’t believe you think I’m cute.”

You dragged her even closer, reaching up to boop her nose which made her scrunch her whole face up in the most adorable way. Your hand continued to the back of her neck, gently bringing her face towards yours. Perhaps you could make her even more flustered.

Lucy had other ideas. Her hands on your waist gripped tightly as she bounced up to meet you, lips soft and sweet yet firm and passionate. Her intensity took your breath away, and you felt your knees buckle. She held you strong, backing you up against the wall for support. You gasped a little into the kiss, trying to regain some air, and she did the same when your hand wound its way into her hair. When you both ran out of ways to breathe, you broke apart, but her hand found yours and yours never left her waist.

“Kipps is going to be absolutely fuming when he hears about all this,” she murmured with a grin.

“Oh trust me, I can’t wait to tell him myself. I quit, I’ve joined a better agency, and I get to be with one of the most amazing agents - one of the most amazing people - I've ever met.”

“I could say the same.” She puffed up her chest, pulled a face and lowered her voice in a silly impression of your now-former boss. “Allow me to introduce (name), one of the most prestigious agents in the country and my girlfriend… if you want to be?” Her voice returned to normal and she bit her lip nervously.

“There’s nothing I’d want more,” you smiled as you leant in to kiss her again.

#lockwood & co x reader #lucy carlyle x reader #lucy carlyle #fem!reader #save lockwood and co #lockwood & co fic

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universe-on-her-shoulders · 7 months ago

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Prompt: Jack comforts Tosh after she had a panic attack episode

Can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t –

The words ran through Tosh’s mind on a loop, so loudly that she half-wondered why the rest of the team couldn’t hear them as they stood grouped together in a small, dark room illuminated only by a swinging naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. The item they’d been looking for was in the centre of the floor, emitting strong enough chemical and temporal trails that the PDA in Tosh’s hand was practically vibrating, but she couldn’t focus on that as the others milled about, firing off rapid questions and throwing around jargon that she ought to have understood, had her mind not been utterly consumed by the bare concrete walls and the flickering light and the confined nature of the space. She was physically with them, yes, but mentally she was in another space and another time and no one was coming and she was alone and –

A hand looped around her upper arm, and she had the vague sense of her name being used as she was steered outside the cell-like space, down a long corridor, and out into the cool Cardiff night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be pleasant yet, but was no longer cold enough to be uncomfortable; as she blinked hard, looking around and over at the SUV, parked under a streetlight, she became aware of Jack stood a short distance away, and it took her a moment to understand that he was the one who’d brought her outside. As this comprehension dawned, she felt first confusion and then a surge of embarrassment; had he noticed her panicking? Did he think her weak? Was he regretting his choice to hire her, and wishing he’d left her back in her cell –

The panic clawed its way back up her throat, her chest compressing as she sunk into a crouch, wrapping her arms around her head in a manner she hadn’t done for years in a desperate bid to block out the world around her. She was going to go back to the cell. Jack wouldn’t want someone so pathetically useless on his team; Jack knew, didn’t he, what she’d been before, and he’d never trusted her. After everything with Mary she’d known she was on thin ice, and now…

“Want some water?” he asked, cutting into her terrified inner monologue; he didn’t wait for a response, but crossed to the SUV, unlocked the boot, and retrieved one from the cooler they kept there, pressing it into her hand until she grasped it reflexively. “Drink it. It’ll help.”

She unscrewed the lid automatically and raised the bottle to her lips with shaking hands. Sip. Sip. Sip. Sip.

“Do they happen a lot?” Jack asked, taking a seat on the kerb beside her; after a moment, Tosh allowed herself to tip backwards just enough that she was no longer crouching, but resting on the tarmac of the pavement, although she kept her knees tucked up under her chin, finding safety in the reassuring emulation of the foetal position. “The panic attacks?”

She contemplated the question for a moment. How honest should she be? He was her boss; he was responsible for her wellbeing, and he did – she hoped – sincerely care about her. On the other hand, he was the one who’d secured her release from a government prison so secret that she’d never been able to find mention of it in her own records, and she knew that her fate was tied, however inextricably, to what he thought of her. Could he send her back there? Would he? It wasn’t like Torchwood agents could be medically retired, or sent on sabbatical. Perhaps in a year she’d be back in the cell, her memories of Cardiff and her colleagues scrubbed; at least she wouldn’t recall her time here, her freedom, or her friends. There would be no ache of longing for her liberty, because her life before incarceration had never been truly free. There had always been the weight of expectation, the pressure to succeed, and then the blackmail. Here, with an organisation that was meant to be covert, she felt freer than she ever had; more able to laugh, to be herself, to show off. There was the constant invasive worry of being sent back to her cell, but she tried to banish that thought, tried to tell herself that Jack wouldn’t do that to her, but she’d seen a side to him that frightened her.

#asks #drabbles #captain jack harkness #toshiko sato #torchwood

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

Text

Accidentally Undercover - Hatchling Robin variation

What if Dusk and Dawn are the senior star agents, and Robin is the new hire that throws them off their rhythm? Brought to you partly by my usual need to explore au variations like a kaleidoscope and partly encouraged by discord shenanigans. Slightly edited and proofread but otherwise same unpredictable ramble style as usual

This got long, and I’m very sorry but also not. Word count: 3625

Some generally applicable info on how their dynamics change in this then:

Cheerful new hire who apparently can’t take anything seriously meets the animatronic star agent (unaware there is another agent involved) and decides he’s their goal. Clocked him as instant rival and the respective boy has to wonder if this is just another part of this new hire’s secret agent fantasy.

The boys are much harsher in this scenario - after years of working for the agency they may feel confident in their job and have solidified their status, but at the cost of the more playful aspects of their work life that they allowed themselves. Dusk in particular - Dawn is already a pretty ruthless agent, but Dusk kept that playfulness up longer. The softest they are is when with Robin (and definitely hinging on how well they get along with Robin), and in this one they didn’t have them for the longest time. They had to become sharper, harsher, because there wasn’t anyone who kept them company, and reminded them to have fun. (This being exactly what happened to Robin as senior agent, too)

So new hire Robin climbs the ranks, all while somehow not taking a singular thing seriously, not yet jaded by the harsher realities of the job and their long social isolation they went through as senior agent.

Neither star agent is impressed with the chatterbox he ends up with, but Robin is new in town and not quite as used to the isolation, so they just seek connections where they can. They’re excited for this opportunity, and want to make friends - even if the friends act like hissy strays they found on the street. They’re determined! And, surprisingly, they *can* keep up with them both, even if their ideas are sometimes crazy or over the top. The boys notice quickly that as much fun as Robin has, they’re still seriously determined to do well, shooting for approval. The happy looks they shoot the respective rival present as if to ask “did I do well? wasn’t this cool?”

Robin does manage to chip away at the boy’s walls, slowly convincing him that there is fun to be found in this job, something they also share with their respective counterpart, shaking up the monotony they resigned themselves to, and actually make the work enjoyable again, reminding them that there is a reason they stuck with it for so long. And there’s just a special kind of pride once they start paying attention to Robin - because this Robin is starting from the bottom (of the pecking order, haha bird joke) so they aren’t going to feel threatened when Dusk/ Dawn does something cool. So when the boys do something impressive, and just steal a glance at their self declared rival to see if they saw, and then Robin just beams at them? Gushes about their technique even? Oh, oh those boys are suddenly melting <3

There is the potential angsty route of “Dusk/Dawn’s harsh shooting down of Robin’s enthusiasm breaks Robin before they manage to break down their walls, leaving the respective rival to realize just what kind of asshole he was and scrambling to make it up to them, though Robin’s kind of hesitant to trust now”. Maybe even the ouch of “I thought we’re friends!” “We aren’t, you’re just a nuisance making my jobs harder” - something long pre-reveal, but not too early in the rivalry. Enough time to give Dusk/ Dawn something to miss but also something that will need to be resolved pre-reveal, because otherwise things get too messy.

But let’s go into the specifics:

Robin only knows Dusk (canon adjacent): Same personalities as described above, and Robin already decided they’re doing better with the sneaky break-ins and parkour. They’re so chatty, and Dusk regularly reprimands them, and is especially annoyed when the little bird seems to have taken a shine to him, showing up at his missions (something that… no one really could before, much less actually keep up with him) and for some reason trying to be his friend? Bit of a switched dynamic where Dusk is the one annoyed and kinda weirded out - what are they doing, trying to prove they’re better than him? Meanwhile in Robin’s head it’s just “oh my god he’s good at parkour hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah I wanna race him can I ask him to race with me? Is this a normal thing agents would do? Maybe we should be friends first. Challenge accepted!”

The boys current landlord just happens to be a dick though, and they look for a different place, and Sun really likes how enthusiastic and nice Y/N is, even as spaced out from apparent tiredness as they are. They do mention their nightshift job, and that they’re kind of nocturnal, so he shrugs it off and just. doesn’t mention Moon again after they didn’t process the previous mention at all, leaving it to him to introduce himself. Maybe they even decide it’s better this way - one less point of contact/ risk to a civilian.

Shenanigans, as we know it, except that Y/N is so desperate for a friend they also latch onto Sun even quicker than in canon, because he seems nice and approachable and they have that coworker they’re really trying to impress who just seems annoyed and brushes them off a lot ): Sun kind of struggling because he does feel for them (and thinks that coworker is a bloody idiot and missing out) but he’s much tenser about being a good agent and keeping things secret, so keeps Y/N at arms length. Robin sometimes sighs about how their neighbor really doesn’t seem to warm up to them, and maybe they should just leave him be, while Dusk just gives a non committal hum while thinking what a gd idiot would ignore this little ray of sunshine like that, really :/

Robin only knows Dawn (au au au adjacent): There is no ankle grabbing. There just isn’t one specific instance of Dawn fucking up, because he’s just allover so so much sharper, so it’s all the ankle grabbing. But Robin isn’t scared for their position, and instead is trying hard to prove to him that they’re worthy, that they can keep up with him! They crave the validation that seems so impossible to get, but there are moments where Dawn is visibly baffled and forgets to hiss out a sharp reprimand, and that surprise and the soft replies give them enough hope to keep trying. Dawn has no clue what this newbie’s deal is, but he’s worked too hard to be taken seriously just for a rookie to decide they can be just as good as he is through sheer willpower alone and to declare themself his rival. Rivals are supposed to be equals - and they aren’t. And he does feel threatened when they seem to get better and better and make less and less mistakes, gaining a certain sharpness themself while still retaining their humor through it all, before he realizes how they never try to outdo him, only to match him

Moon meanwhile finds a new place for them to live, not quite caring to socialize with the landlord, even though they seem really really determined to please. They knock for the smallest excuses, asking if there’s anything he needs, or if anything is broken. He asks to exchange numbers just so he can say he’ll text when something comes up, and they just take it as a win towards friendship. The ice breaks when he sees them one day, obviously distraught, and very much looking like they were crying. Because maybe he can’t risk socializing, but seeing them like this still just doesn’t sit right with him. They mention that their coworker was just a tad harsher than normal earlier, saying something that technically wasn’t wrong, they suppose, but it’s disheartening that no matter how hard they try to match him and to learn from him, he doesn’t let them for some reason. Like he doesn’t want them to get better, like he’s worried about them catching up - they just don’t wanna be left behind. Moon calls him an idiot right then, says only a fool wouldn’t get that. They’re much too genuine to misunderstand, surely. (After all, even he is starting to warm up to them, and he hasn’t warmed up to anyone in years. And that coworker has all the opportunity to get close to them, something he doesn’t even have, because he doesn’t want to put them at risk).

Does check in more often then, but sometimes gets that wave of shame about how he shouldn’t, sending some mixed messages that have Robin distracted on the job. They’re quick to wave things off when called out, but Dawn is insistent and when it happens one time too many, maybe they do admit that they’re just worrying about their neighbor - maybe he’s just tolerating them, or even secretly hating them, and maybe they should just leave him be and avoid him, too. And Dawn just scoffs, saying how he can’t believe that - they’re so disgustingly nice and genuine, they’re made for the neighborly life. Offering people eggs or flour or whatever people come knocking for, offering a helping hand, what kind of neighbor wouldn’t like that? And Robin kind of snorts, confused but amused by the way he phrases all of that as hypotheticals. “Pretty sure you have neighbors, too.” “Yes, and I don’t talk to any of them. My landlord doesn’t even know I exist.” He deadpans, and maybe enjoys just a little bit when they start laughing heartily then <3

The little consistent moments between the variations of course stick around - the stabbing, sick day, and overtime (and some more general thoughts)!

Robin getting stabbed ends a little harsher for our poor baby bird. It’s their first serious injury on the job, and their rival adding to that by freaking out over them not being careful really isn’t helping, even as he takes them back to HQ and ensures they get the medical attention they need. Going home they continue worrying however, and maybe their counterpart suggests a gift basket, because their landlord is in the hospital too - it’s certainly only polite concern in both cases, so a gift basket is totally appropriate, right? Neither goes overboard here actually - and Y/N returns home happy, positively surprised that both their kinda distant neighbor and the rival they thought might hate them got them something while they were indisposed.

Sick day would go over relatively subdued, actually - because the neighbors are just too aware of the risk of getting too involved with a civilian. They are worried, and it doesn’t help that their counterpart is worried and in denial about the little rival he totally doesn’t care about. So Sun cooks a meal in the largely unused kitchen in their place, even though it means buying spices he’ll never use up (haha unless?), and Moon simply drops by with some takeout (maybe a ridiculous variety just in case of allergies or preferences). Either only knocks on Y/N’s door, dropping off the food with some polite small talk while totally not asking if they need anything else (but eyeing them carefully just in case they notice something), and it’s Y/N who, unprompted, sighs and then smiles. Of course they’re gonna rest - they always work hard, and they’ll work hard to overcome this sickness, too (Y/N baby please you have recovery all mixed up)! They really don’t wanna come back to work and get reprimanded for taking so long to get over a simple flu, and the respective neighbor just mentally curses out the idiot coworker who wouldn’t even be worried about this genuine source of positive energy

Dusk/Dawn reprimanding them for overworking themself gains the note of the more experienced agent almost taking on the mentor role, or at least that’s what he tells himself when he just bursts into their office to send them home. They’re a little easier to convince because they never tried keeping a distance from him, though he still pulls the “wouldn’t people in your life worry if they saw you like that?” card because he can’t admit to himself that he worries, seeing them like that. It still stings when they mention their neighbor, but Dusk/Dawn is simply too deep in denial to realize that as jealousy.

Of course they talk about Robin/ Y/N to each other, too. For Robin it’s very similar to the "annoying coworker" vibes between senior agent Y/N and the respective neighbor, but switched from Y/N to their counterpart. That means they aren’t jealous of that coworker of course, so they notice when the genuine annoyance turns into begrudging acknowledgement to kinda amused sharing of antics, and then they tease the other for being such an utter fool who would get soft for the self proclaimed rival he was so annoyed by at first.

The landlord doesn't get too much attention (bc they’re generally harmless) apart from some teasing about their counterpart falling for a civilian, given that there are no stakes except "boy this landlord better never find out about me or shits about to get really awkward. thanks for taking one for the team and being the only point of contact". The teasing stays mild though, because, well…

The boys are years into social isolation, even Sun minimizes civilian contact by now. They think they're fucking martyrs. Y/N mentions another man in their life, who obviously doesn't have to make those terrible sacrifices (keeping a distance from Y/N/ Robin due to their job) and thus is entirely voluntarily putting up his nose at the greatest thing that could happen to him a really neat person (authors note: I am laughing at my own sentence) is simply a complete and utter fool and definitely wouldn't deserve them actually but it's still preposterous that he wouldn't even try to bask in that light that is Robin/ Y/N? They're gonna say the bit about how he's an idiot, but they'll be damned before they admit they're jealous. They're professionals and they do what they gotta do, simple as that

The reveal (of course also a consistency) would go a little differently - because I flipped it around and it's Robin who finds out first somehow (to be decided - maybe a simple dot connecting after finally learning of the other star agent they somehow evaded all this time, since the neighbors wouldn’t allow them close enough for pictures for way too long for this to be a compelling timeline), so it's the newbies finding out first instead of locking that onto the characters themselves

Robin would just be completely. well. feels like being hit by a train, maybe. terrified, honestly. So not only are there two star agents, one of which they weren't aware of at all (and here they thought they were getting somewhere, becoming a good agent) but their rival actually lives next to them? Rejection sensitivity flares up because oh god, what if he does hate them, what if he'll be furious about the situation when he finds out - when both of them find out? What if they get Y/N fired somehow - they're star agents, their seniors, and they're just one kinda talented newbie, of course they'd be the one to lose their job? They keep it to themself out of fear (of everything - what they have is already so fragile in their eyes), and they’re distracted on the job. Being distracted isn’t good - and they get hurt again. The respective rival just tears into them for being reckless he thought he'd lost them again and they just break

Frantic, apologizing, crying - and Dusk/ Dawn just realizes there's something else. This isn't like the Robin they know, and their apologies are not matching the situation at all. But both soften because man, their rival is sitting there, a blubbering mess pleading with them not to hate them - so they just ask, what's this about? As gentle as they allow themselves, slowly calming down when they also realize that if whatever injury isn’t even on their mind, so overshadowed by what else is plaguing them, then it can’t be too serious anyway. They can focus on that first, and analyze how much Robin being stabbed scarred them too later

Dusk gets a still very blubbery Robin just explaining they just wanted friends, they didn't want to be alone, they didn't mean to risk their jobs or identities and they didn't mean to find out, and they're sorry and - "What do you mean, you didn't mean to find out?" Dread creeping into his tone, even more so when they quietly admit that Sun moved in with them. But they're just so obviously terrified that after a moment he just sighs, and drops his shoulders with a somewhat exasperated chuckle. Says something like of course that would happen, of course he'd get his revenge. The confusion gets them out of their panic a bit, and he elaborates cheekily how they followed him to his missions, so he followed them home. Gets a laugh out of them, and then they just cry again out of relief while he just scoots close and comforts them, explaining he’s not mad, and that it would have been a miracle for them to never find out, and that HQ never interfered so they don’t need to tell them anything, either -

Dawn gets more of a deer in the headlights, and a barely holding on Robin just insists that "Your landlord? You mentioned them before? And that they don't know about you? They know. They do know." and he's just kinda frustrated, no clue where that came from, little thief, but they don't - "They do. I do." and he freezes. Gears start turning, but he reaches out without thinking, and they just clench their eyes shut as if afraid. Start apologizing again, how they didnt mean to, they're sorry, please don't hate them - and that’s when the suave agent breaks, too. Turns out he can’t stand the thought of his little rival afraid of him after all.

"Oh no, oh no no no - you didn't do anything wrong, we moved in with you, we didn't realize -" and despite their earlier flinch making him hesitate he reaches out again, hoping to soothe them, and then they do cling to him and just cry while he continues to whisper reassurances, how he's not mad, how this isnt their fault, how the agency would have interfered if it truly were an issue, no one's gonna lose their job as long as he has a say in it -

And yeah, in the end it does go over a little smoother than canon reveal (though not as smooth as reverse reveal), because Sun and Moon get to skip the drawn out angst, but also it's even rougher on Robin because they don't even have their job to feel confident in, that being way too new, and the rejection sensitivity just really fucks with them in this one as they’re really not as close to any of them pre-reveal compared to canon/ reverse au

Robin does immediately get genuine reassurance once they spill, which is very very good bc if the boys had taken longer to react or, as feared, if they had reacted badly Robin would be very scared of Dusk/ Dawn. They are kinda isolated apart from those two and the touch/ genuine comfort and staying with them (and also the concern over the unspecified injury scare) is just really really soothing to them on a deeper level, so they forgive the boys more easily for the harshness from before too (and the boys do kinda warm up to them over time, too, same as senior agent Robin warms up to their rivals)

Reverse Hatchling PS: Post reveal Dawn doesn’t initially know of course that he made Y/N cry before, but Moon shared the initial conversation where he comforted them, and once Sun connects the dots he's devastated. He was so focused on himself, he didn't even care about the impact he left on them, worse yet, at the start he enjoyed "putting them back in their place". Looking back he already internally winces every time, and is glad that they don't seem to hold a grudge - but finding out he made them cry? He needs to apologize - unfortunately, he's still an idiot and only knows how to do grand gestures. Robin doesn't want that - they dont want the flowers or extravagant gifts, and they tell him so. Small voice, confused - and he's crushed. He has no clue how to fix this! He just wants to apologize, he needs to apologize, he was a complete and utter fool and he hurt them so much, and he didn't even care, and he can't do that again he needs to make sure it never happens again - and why are they crying he just said he wanted to prevent that!

And they laugh (a little teary, yes), and say that is a whole apology? The words mean so much more to them than non specific gifts? A bouquet is just a bouquet, it doesn’t promise anything or actually shows what he’s sorry for. But they would like a hug if he's open - and boy is he. Kinda awkward, kinda thinking about the snot on his suit, but also just wow, they're so warm and they hold on so tightly, and they trust him like that, and - and oh. He’s suddenly not mad about snot anymore, and instead simply melts into the hug, holding them close for a very long time <3

#post let luce #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #hatchling au #<- that's gonna be the official tag IF I ever have thoughts about this again #for now this is all and I'm just throwing it out there #I am simply too normal about the many possible constellations I can put these characters in #feel free to ignore this I swear I know that not everyone is here for alt timelines and whatever #this isn't a clear cut au tho and it'll never be because I get excited very very easily #anyways. enjoy HFDJSK #I will now yeet this post and then maybe nap because holy shit I've been unhinged all day

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