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thalwri · 2 months ago

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from ashes to warmth

sylus x fem! reader

synopsis: you return from a hefty battle against a few wanderers to face yet another fight to protect your home– or at least what's left of it. with nothing left, you force yourself to find refuge and there's only one person you know who can keep you safe.

warnings: angst, fluff, teasings towards smut, more fluff, mentions of death, teasing, quite suggestive

word count: 3,4k

minors don't interact.

it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

hunters were swarming around your apartment’s entrance as you returned from a gory mission. skin sticky with blood and sweat, body limping with small cuts and bruises, you didn’t have the energy to question their presence. but then you were forced to when they didn’t allow you inside.

“there’s an active metaflux in the estate,” xavier, one of your close companions, muttered while stifling a yawn. he was also dressed in his hunter’s uniform and slightly ruffled so he was just as surprised as you. even if he didn’t show it.

“hunters aren’t speaking on it because there are a few civilians within the area.” he tugged you to a more secluded corner of the bustling crowd full of gown and slipper-adorned hunters off duty. “if the wrong person catches word, a few things will end up compromised– including the integrity of our safety.”

“guess that’s already been hit.” a bitter chuckle brewed in the back of your throat as you glanced at the seemingly calm estate you live in. it looked fine, and there weren’t any surrounding wanderers you could see.

unless they were already inside.

you could feel the wounds you wrapped throb in discomfort as blood seeped through a deeper cut on your arm. the flamma ignis and polar wyrm that attempted to rip your limbs off had done enough damage to put you out of commission for a few days. you still had to file your mission report on top of that–

crackle– BOOM!

the ground trembled beneath your feet as a shockwave threw you off your balance just enough to make you stumble back. the screams of the hunters around you were deaf to your ears, the intense ringing of the explosion piercing through your skull as your vision cleared from the bright orange and green blur before you.

bodies flew and thumped before you. their lifeless bodies had strings of smoke flowing above them, almost like their souls were ascending before your very eyes. slowly, you turned your gaze to the home of many– your home– reduced to rubble and ashes and sprawling with wanderers of all grading. the standard, elite, and superior all heading towards you.

it took hours to eliminate them all. the hunters that were equipped and lucid enough to fight were on the front lines. the rest of the hunters either went to the nearest hunter-residence to collect as many weapons as possible to support the fight which was much needed.

you and xavier stood within the front lines for the first portion of the battle that had felt endless, surging on through your pain and frustration towards the fact that your apartment was effectively destroyed– unable to cry or grieve but only allowed to scream out the fury with each gunshot and stab of the blade until there was nothing but protocores left.

the sound of a crow’s caws ran through the growing silence amongst the hunters, a silence of mourning accompanied by the crackling of the flames within the rubble. the emergency services had arrived, taking in as many of the injured as possible, and the paramedics adorned in black cloaks took the bodies of the deceased.

one by one, the hunters dispersed, booking nearby hotels or calling friends and family to stay with at least until the apartment estate was rebuilt. you remained, still trembling with shock and disbelief, for near an hour. xavier had left saying he had a few things to settle and suggested you find a hotel before they were all booked out. you lied, saying you had a place.

well, you did. but your grandmother’s home also suffered the fate of an explosion.

you discretely listened in to the investigation taking place to your left. speaking in hushed whispers while some hunter’s watches illuminated a recollection of what had taken place. word of a radio-frequency chip being found in one of the elevators, whispers of some people still being inside at the time of the explosion, mutters of transmuted humans and the potential involvement of the company known as ever…

all leading to a single answer: this was no accident. you were all being targeted.

and whoever set it up succeeded.

your territory is gone. and now you’re bare and open to whatever wishes to devour you.

unable and unwilling to hear more as much as your curiosities were piqued, you limped to your 270hm and placed the helmet over your head. another cry of the crows filled the silence of the night, almost consoling you as tears finally ran down your face. you didn’t know where you were going. you just drove.

you drove through the traffic and the wails of the ambulances, you drove through the quiet of the bloomshore district, and you raced the hypertrains of Azure Square and through the outskirts of the city until you found yourself stopping at a familiar luxury estate.

you picked your phone out of your pocket, fumbling through your contact list until you found his name. the line barely rang before the call picked up. your words choked at the tip of your tongue, your breathing grew laboured as you struggled to put your thoughts into words.

you were terrified, in pain, and distraught. you didn’t know what to do or how you’d be able to tend to your wounds. the hospitals across the city were stacked, and your usual medical companions were likely occupied for the next few days.

at this rate, you were beyond your wits end.

“kitten?” his deep voice engulfed you in comforting warmth. as you removed your helmet, a familiar ruby-eyed crow landed on your motorcycle. mephisto relentlessly cawed hopping on your uninjured thigh to nudge you. if it were any other occasion you would have threatened to eat him. this time, you appreciated him.

“i’m here,” you whispered, staring at the entrance to his mansion. one of the great many he owned.

“i know.” the large doors opened to reveal the pale, silver haired man before you. his hair was damp, his red and black blazer was draped over his shoulders almost as if he had rushed to put on some clothing after taking a shower.

sylus held his hand out to you, wordlessly requesting you join him inside. whether it was the gesture or you losing you grip on your emotions, you didn’t know but you found yourself bursting into tears.

within an instant, a shadow of crimson and black feathers formed by your side and his warm calloused hands held you. you instinctively held him in your pained embrace, crying through the agony of your wounds, the grief of watching some of your colleagues pass in the midst of battle, and the overall disarray of losing practically everything you owned.

sure, some things can be remade or retrieved from the cloud but that didn’t console the hurt.

the misty shadow of sylus’ evol engulfed you both until you were flat above him on the bed of one of the many rooms in the property. the firepit was burning, sending a more comforting aroma to you rather than that of burning concrete and other things which you preferred not to dignify with words anymore.

you allowed yourself to shake as your cries echoed around the room, sylus chose to remain silent and comfort you by stroking your back, glancing at your wounds and calculating what he had to attend to first– comforting you or ensuring none of the injuries got infected. you appreciated his quiet care, the gentle touch of his hands and his chin rubbing the top of your head calmed you down just enough to push out a few words.

“the– the apartment estate… it– it–”

“i know,” he whispered as his grip tightened on you but not too hard to affect your wound. he gently pressed his lips on the top of your head. “i know.”

a heavy sigh left your lips in gratitude. you felt so sticky and gross and you were messing up his bed. you couldn’t help but feel bad.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly sat up, groaning at the pain growing throughout your body. “i must be making a mess–“

“there are many more beds, kitten.” his lips curved into a careful smile as his hands hovered around you just incase you lost your balance. “there are more important things to deal with. like that cut.”

you didn’t even get the chance to agree, he immediately swept you up with one arm– the other working at removing your shoes. he sat you on the side of the sink to turn on the shower. the cold touch of the porcelain sent shivers through your body. the mirrors blurred with steam, your body began to warm as a thin layer of sweat formed over your blood and dirt-stained skin.

you hadn’t realised you zoned out until the sharp sting of disinfectant hit the open wound on your arm. your top and pants had long been removed, leaving you in your most comfortable state with the man you were most comfortable with. sylus carefully dabbed a disinfectant-drench cotton ball on each wound until they were reasonably cleaned of the blood and dirt. he gently wrapped your arm with a bandage, holding a thin layer of gauze directly above the cut, until it was snug on you.

“next time you decide to fight over one hundred wanderers, do call for help.” sylus tutted, tossing the dirty cotton balls in the bin. “i was going to come when mephisto informed me– but i had gotten occupied by some temporary business partners.”

“you would have left and compromised your safety?” you sniffled, almost tempted to laugh. “it’s almost like you want me to hand you over to the Hunters Association.”

“i have a few friends there,” he gave you his signature smirk. “i think i’d be just fine.”

he had muttered something about preparing a room for you and left you in the bathroom to clean up and dress into some comfortable wear. your shower was long, filled with pockets of thought, regret, and semi-aggressive scrubbing to wash off the gunk sylus hadn’t cleaned.

if the apartment wasn’t rebuilt soon, you’d have to make a request to carry out your missions more towards the areas surrounding the n109 zone. you wouldn’t be neglecting your work and you’d also have a place to stay. and from your previous conversation with sylus, you had full access to the power and connections onychinus had. you were safe. and he made sure of that.

you smiled to yourself as you stepped out of the shower to find a set of his clothes placed by the door for you. he had learned that you enjoy wearing his clothes so he always left some of his at your apartment whenever he visited. you felt guilty considering all those expensive adornments were now destroyed. he would probably stare at you then order the exact clothes online to show you they were easily replaceable.

but his brooch– the one he gave to you while you hated him– that always stayed on your person. you took it with you on every mission, assigning it as your lucky charm, your protection charm, and a physical reminder of his permanent presence in your life. he would always be there for you, even if you hate him for it.

you found him in the living room of the house, carrying multiple pillows in his arms as he walked towards the couches. there were blankets, plushies, and an array of snacks lined up on the coffee table. the television was on and paused at the beginning of a film, waiting for you to settle down and binge on anything you would choose.

he motioned for you to join him as he sat on the carpet, reaching out to eat. “the food won’t eat itself.”

you wasted no time to dig in, relentlessly having a bit of everything and you could just tell from the intense flavour that he made it himself. in the background of your shameless consumption, a movie played in a lower volume opening the opportunity for conversation.

you casually slipped the information you had partly overheard while zoning out once the chaos cooled down. sylus carefully listened as he ate, maintaining his attention to your every word.

“and from what we know, ever has been producing those chips,” you added before quickly munching on another spoon of dessert that he baked. oh goodness you loved whenever he made food. “tenebras are also being suspected to be involved. i’m not surprised. the last time a hunter went rogue was a month ago and our codes and systems still haven’t been updated to strengthen security.”

sylus carefully hummed, tapping his finger on the corner of the vintage wooden coffee table. you recognised that habit, along with him fidgeting with a coin as a physical representation of him being in deep thought. if what you heard was mostly accurate to his other suspicions then the attack would be part of a larger scheme.

“but it’s too complex and deep to think about without enough information.” you took the words right out of his mouth. you wiped your mouth with a napkin, shrugging off the tension building in your shoulders. you glanced at your bandaged arm with a slight grimace, still feeling the painful sting of the events earlier that night.

the coffee table was pushed further away from the couches for the two of you to create a makeshift fort comfortable enough for you to rest in. you were tempted to throw a few pillows at him but your physical exhaustion rendered your ambition futile.

sylus rested on the mini fort, both comfortable and serene. “don’t let this spot get cold, kitten,” he patted his chest and beckoned for you to come down to him. a gentle gust of his evol guided you to draw closer and closer until your legs were tangled with his.

a giggle erupted from you. “you could have just asked.”

“i did.”

you plopped down beside him, cushioned by the blankets and pillows and the warmth from the room. you shared a momentary silence– it was like it was just the two of you alone in the world. like all your problems were dust against the push and tug of the wind. you felt so secure; so grateful.

“thank you, sylus.”

“there is nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

your eyes darted to each other’s lips, silently communicating a mutual want.

“you must remember that you will always have access to everything i own,” sylus muttered, moving closer to you. your lips were less than a breath away. “everything.”

and that included him. you brushed your finger over his temple, eliciting a soft noise to leave his lips– almost like a purr. for someone who relished in calling you a kitten, he seemed more like a cat to you.

you leaned forward, finally closing the gap between your lips. it was a brief, gentle kiss. one of gratitude and adoration. when you pulled away he stared at you, with a flicker of bewilderment crossing his eyes before he returned the gesture– just as a soft, just as delicate but for a second longer.

enticed eyes and widening smiles were shared in the silence of your giddiness and your lips collided again, this time with your embrace on each other tightening. his hands slowly ventured down to your thighs and guided them to wrap around him to pull you in much closer. he gently nibbled your lips ravaging you like a delicacy that he’d only have once, ensuring he savoured every bit of you.

your arms coiled around his neck and broad shoulders almost instinctively, tangling your fingers within the dangerously soft tufts of his hair, scratching his head just the way you knew he liked it. he groaned into your lips and automatically pushed his hips into yours, making it very clear that even the simplest touch from you had the power to ignite him with need for you– utter devotion for you. unadulterated love for you and you alone.

“you’re not wearing anything underneath, are you?” he grinned against your lips, kissing your skin from the corner of your lips, to your chin, to the start of your neck, all the way down with a searing swipe of his tongue until he reached your collarbones. his hands gently travelled under his dress shirt, creeping up your abdomen until they reached the swells of your chest and greeted them with a gentle squeeze. you gasped, feeling his touch shoot tingles down your spine and into your core.

“so you aren’t.”

“i doubt you are either,” you bit back, glancing down at the growing tent between his legs. “considering you changed into grey pants.”

“i like the colour.”

“as if.”

“as if?” his teeth sank into your skin and licked over the sting to soothe it. “i think,” kiss. “it’s just a minor coincidence.” kiss. “like you wearing nothing underneath my clothes.”

you stifled a small yawn. “mm, maybe so.” sylus quickly raised his head, further messing his already ruffled hair.

“you’re tired, kitten.”

“oh, i wonder why.” you deadpanned, not moving from your immense closeness to him. you were so needy to feel him and feel amazing with him, but you were also so exhausted. like hours of sleep would satiate you before you can do anything else.

your eyes began to flutter as sylus’ continued to give you gentle kisses down your chest to your nipples, taking them in his mouth and gently suckling at your hardening nubs. the neglected one was quickly given attention from his large hand, massaging and fondling you with love.

a smooth moan escaped your lips before your next yawn could. sylus’ lips and hands travelled further down until he reached the hem of your– actually his– pants and tugged them down your hips.

“you don’t have to do anything,” he pressed a wet kiss on your bare skin, sending waves of need right to your clit. his touch would always be able to entice you. “we won’t go too far into it if you’re too tired. i can take care of you in many other ways.”

his crimson eyes slowly looked up to yours. his face was flushed pink from his cheeks to his ears. his gaze on you was painted with pure endearment and adoration. he kissed his way across your hips to your thighs, painting you in his endless affections all the way to your knees.

“you know how much pleasure i get from simply worshipping you, sweetie?” you wouldn’t have been able to utter a response other than a squeak or a flustered whimper. a deep chuckle erupted from the depths of his throat.

“i get very satisfied from it. your pleasure is my pleasure. and i’m more than happy to take good care of you while you relax for me. may i?” he paused in the midst of his affections. he glanced up to check on why you were silent to find the cutest sight before him.

you were asleep. eyes, half closed but body limp and relaxed above to him. tonight must have really taken a toll on you. or maybe it was the pillow fort being so comfortable that you involuntarily held hands with the influencing whispers of slumber summoning you. either way, it was the most adorable sight he had seen just yet.

“such a sleepy kitten,” he chuckled, moving back up to lie face to face with you. he watched your chest rise and fall for minutes that ran as quickly as seconds. the tranquility in your state of rest was both comforting and beautiful to see.

it was almost sunrise and even he was becoming more tired. he could perhaps encourage you to stay with him for long– maybe he could go on more missions with you to ensure you aren’t at much risk to be injured as you were today. he’d also have to send some of his people to investigate the targeted attack. he’d rather burn the known universe to a crisp before you ever face an injury like that again.

before he ever risks losing you.

but for now, for the time being, you were with him. alive and well. injured, yes, but alive. that was all that mattered. and the comfort of that alongside you being comfortably coiled in his arms was more than enough for him to invite sleep overcome him.

just for a bit.

#lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #sylus smut #sylus x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #✧.* thalwri works #✧.* thalwri

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imaginecolby · 8 months ago

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silent sufferer || c.b.

summary: when you sustain an injury while exploring with the boys, you keep it a secret, as to not distract from the investigation. requested by anonymous.

“how are you doin’?” colby asked as he sat down with you. you’d joined him and sam on an investigation, and the three of you were taking a quick break after he and sam ran through the history of the place you were at. you smiled at him and nodded.

“i’m okay.” you said softly. this was your first investigation with the boys, and you were quite nervous. but you put on a brave face, because past all the nerves, were were actually excited. this was something you’ve gotten to watch sam and colby do numerous times, and you were happy that colby invited you along.

“good.” colby said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “don’t be afraid to speak up if you’re uncomfortable or anything. we can stop at any point.” he said, kissing you again. you nodded, before sam turned his attention to the two of you.

“alright, are we ready?” he asked, and you and colby nodded in unison.

as the investigation began, the three of you made your way through the location, capturing a good amount of evidence throughout your first walkthrough.

you’d become a little on edge, but colby was constantly reminding you that he was there for you, and that you could stop at anytime if you were too scared.

but you pushed through. you really were having a good time. capturing the evidence in real time was something you could never fully explain in words. it was something so crazy, and so intense, it was really life changing.

you’d wandered off on your own after a while, separating ever so slightly from the boys, as you explored the area. you walked carefully, as there were holes and debris all over the floor, that you didn’t want to trip over. you stood quietly by yourself, completely open and allowing spirits to speak or let themselves be known.

you were having a solo moment, listening for anything that may be present or had a message to share. you were so deep into yourself, that when the boys yelled in reaction to their music box going off, you were genuinely scared. you jumped, tripping over something in the hallway. you caught your fall just before your chin met the floor, but you felt a twinge of pain in your ankle. you brushed it off as you caught back up with sam and colby, listening listened as they recapped for the camera, and stuck together the rest of the night.

as you continued walking around, you could tell that you really messed up your ankle when you fell. you could feel yourself limping, but you tried your hardest to hide it as to not take away from the investigation.

as the night finished up, you helped the boys pack up their equipment, and you began to head back to the hotel. once you returned and made your way up to your room, you hopped in the shower and looked down at your ankle.

“holy shit.” you sighed. your ankle was bruised all around your ankle. it was definitely worse than you thought. after your shower, you limped down the hall to get some ice. once you filled your bucket, and turned to head back to your room, you saw colby coming out of the sam’s room. as soon as he laid eyes on you, you crumbled under gaze, and suddenly felt like the worse person in the world for hiding your injury from him.

“are you limping?” he asked as you met at your room door.

“yeah.” you said softly. you went into your room, and colby followed close behind. you sat on the bed and lifted up your foot, showing off your ankle.

“y/n, what the hell? why didn’t you say anything?” colby asked. he placed your foot in his lap, placing the ice on your ankle.

“im sorry, i didn’t want to distract from the investigation or anything.” you pouted. colby let out a loud sigh and just shook his head.

“you know that wouldn’t have been a problem. safety comes first for all of us, you included.” he said. you sat there silently, watching colby as he stacked some pillows at the end of the bed to elevate your foot. he replaced the ice around your ankle. “do you think it’s broken?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no. i can still put weight on it, and it’s not excruciatingly painful. i think it’s just this bruised because i fell.”

“you fell?” colby asked, almost in a scolding tone.

“i tripped. i don’t know what it was over, some debris or something. it was too dark and i couldn’t tell what it was.” you explained.

“y/n, you could've gotten seriously hurt.” he sighed.

“but i didn’t!” you joked. colby just stared at you, hurt in his eyes. you knew he worried about you, but you hated feeling like you’d disappointed him. “colby, really. im fine. its just some swelling. i already took some ibuprofen, and it’ll go down.”

“i just hate feeling like i could've done something to prevent this.” he pouted.

“its okay. this was my own doing. you were working on your video, and i wandered off on my own. it doesn't matter how close we could've been watching each other, we risk getting hurt on every one of these trips.”

“i know, i know. and i know you don’t need me to, but i feel a responsibility to protect you. especially when im the one who invites you on these trips.”

“you don't have to feel bad. it’s not like you pushed me down the stairs or anything.” you laughed. colby huffed a laugh, staring down at your foot in his lap.

“you really fucked this up, didn’t you?”

“so bad.’ you laughed again. “its actually kind of embarrassing.” you added. colby laughed again, and carefully moved your foot from his lap.

“can i get you anything else?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“im good. thank you, baby.” you said with a smile. he moved to the other side of the bed, climbing in to sit next to you. he draped his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his side. you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you channel surfed for a while before finding something to watch. you stopped on a random movie, which you barely remember watching before you fell asleep.

you slept pretty uncomfortably that night, since you were trying to keep your leg still and elevated on the stack of pillows. the next morning was a travel day, as you and the boys were heading back to las vegas. you and colby were moving around your room as he was helping you get ready and pack your things.

“hows your ankle?” he asked.

“i can see that the swelling has already gone down, thankfully. still sore as hell, though.” you said, sliding into your shoes.

“i still can’t believe you kept this from me.” he said, helping you from the bed and walking with you down the hall.

“well, you know about it now, so, ..” you trailed off. colby just laughed and shook his head. you met sam down in the lobby and made your way to the airport. the flight back wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it was going to be, as you ended up having the row to yourself and could put your foot up on the seats next to you. you slept on and off throughout the flight, and once you finally made it home, colby was insistent on coming with you so he could continue to take care of you. you knew better than to fight him on it, so you and him made your way back to your apartment.

you plopped down on the couch, colby setting up the living room with various snacks and drinks, and making sure you were comfortable. thankfully, after one more day, the swelling and bruising around your ankle finally went down and you were able to walk normally without limping.

“thank you for taking care of me.” you said with a smile, colby packing up to head back home since you were doing better.

“you don’t have to thank me. that’s what im here for.” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“but im still thankful.” you said, kissing him again. “i love you.”

“i love you.” he repeated, followed by another kiss. you stood at your front door, watching as colby left, waving as he drove down your street and out of sight towards his home.

he really was too good to you. but you appreciated him more than you could ever put into words.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagines #colby brock x reader

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droumack · 4 months ago

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the first 1.3k of popstar!jo and bodyguard!nate

(because I'm trying to see if posting part of this will motivate me to finish it)

“It’s a little ridiculous.” And Jo doesn’t think he’s being unfair with that statement. In fact, he thinks he’s being more than fair, when the fact of the matter is—this entire situation was more than a little ridiculous. It was fucking absurd, for one; a massive invasion of privacy, for another.

And for Jo to call this an invasion of privacy—Jo, whose privacy has been getting invaded since he was a teenager—is saying something. His label has run his life for almost half a decade, now, and Jo thinks if he doesn’t draw the line here, he’ll never draw it again.

“It’s not ridiculous,” Phil says, “It’s your safety.”

“The venues have bodyguards,” Jo argues. “The airports have insane security, and so do all the events I go to. Hotels do too, the only time I wouldn’t be technically protected is—”

“Every other moment of your life,” Phil interrupts. “While you’re traveling, when you’re out to dinner, whenever you leave your house. You think I’m trusting you with a bouncer?” He raps his finger hard on the top of the stack of condemning envelopes sitting between them, and continues,

“You think the bouncer at Tenants is going to be equipped to handle this shit? No chance, Jo.”

‘This shit’ has been the ever-growing stack of letters from his ever-growing fanbase, with a few startling standouts who, yeah, Jo can admit, seem a bit menacing.

Jo figures that comes with the territory of being an international popstar. It’s what he signed up for when he started singing; he’s not mad that people care enough about him to send him shit ranging from ‘I follow you everywhere’ to ‘when I get my hands on you I’m going to [redacted by Jo’s publicist].’

He doesn’t think any of them are going to act on it. For one, none of them have the means. For another, if they get close enough to Jo to abduct him, then that’ll probably mean they’ve gotten close enough to Jo to figure out he doesn’t have a lot in common with his onstage or on-camera persona.

All the letters go to his publicist’s office, but they’d only really become an issue when his publicist’s assistant had been reading through them and gotten creeped out enough to run it up the flagpole.

Hoping for a little bit of support, he turns to the publicist in question.

“Cole.” The man lifts his head from where he’s been click-clacking away at his phone. Jo’s not entirely confident he’s even been listening, but he asks anyway, “Do a lot of your clients have private security?”

He mulls the question over for a couple of seconds. “For major campaigns,” he says eventually. Then he smiles, placid and a little bitchy, and says, “RDJ’s bodyguard was at his wedding. Maybe you’ll make a new friend.” Then his attention goes back to his phone, picking up his typing like he’d never stopped.

Jo stares at his publicist for a couple more seconds, wonders why, exactly, he pays almost 10 grand a month for a bratty twenty-something twink who makes fun of him, and then turns his attention back to Phil.

He sighs heavily. “Obviously you have someone in mind?” He gestures at the folder Phil had yet to open. “Or, a company, or something?”

Phil rewards him with a smile that seems honestly relieved, and Jo has a moment of feeling a bit guilty. Phil has been like family for years, had been coming up as a manager while Jo’s star had been rising.

Phil had been able to open Danault Management offices in LA and New York because he’d been able to stand on Jo’s shoulders, but in all fairness, it had been Jo standing on Phil’s for the first seven years of this whole ‘shoot for the stars’ endeavor.

Clearly, he’s been genuinely worried about this, worried about Jo, because Jo’s capitulation looks like it’s tacked five years back onto his life.

“Of course I do,” Phil says. “Cole’s recommendation, actually.”

Jo glances at his publicist once more, and Cole looks up, makes a humming little questioning noise before his eyes catch on the folder Phil has in front of him. “Oh, yeah. Good choice.”

“They’re good?” Jo asks, sliding the folder a little closer to him, glancing at the name on the letterhead:

MacKinnon Executive Protection.

“The best,” Cole agrees. “We found them doing TIFF a few years ago, convinced them to make the jump to privatized security for some of our guys.” He sits forward in her chair and taps one of the names of the Agents, tells Phil,

“Don’t hire them until they agree to make him the lead.”

Jo’s eyes flick over the name he’s pointed out. Nathan MacKinnon.

“That’s who I’ve been speaking to,” Phil tells her. “He’s already agreed. It’ll be him and two other guys, but MacKinnon’s taking the bulk of it. Or so he says.”

Jo’s eyebrows creep up. “You already hired them?” He must fail to keep his betrayal from his voice, but Phil knows that Jo hates it when people make decisions without him. It’s happened too many times, led to too many awkward appearances and shows and interviews and a litany of other things Jo doesn’t care to remember.

To answer his previous question, it’s precisely why he pays Cole as much as he does, precisely why Phil has been his go to guy over the much bigger firms his label has been pushing on him for years. They listen to him. They collaborate with him.

But not on this, apparently.

“I haven’t pulled the trigger,” Phil assures him. “But yes, we’ve spoken. I didn’t want to bring this to you until I had all the details.”

That quells some of the hurt simmering in Jo’s chest. It’s because he’s worried, Jo reminds himself. He’s not tricking Jo into signing a shitty contract like his past label, not lying to him like all his exes.

“And these are all the details?” he asks, picking up the folder, eyes jumping around the subsections, the no-nonsense, Times New Roman formatting of it all. It’s not like he’d expected a lot of whimsy from a security company, but these guys kind of seem like hardasses just from the way they’ve written out their proposal.

He guesses this is probably a good field for hardasses.

“Ex-military,” Phil says. “Canadian.” That makes him grin, like he thinks that might be a selling point for Jo. Reluctant as he is to admit it, it kind of is; Jo likes bringing bits of his home with him on tour. His chef is Canadian, a few of his dancers as well.

“Nice?” Jo asks.

Phil and Cole exchange a look, then, and Jo doesn’t miss the way Cole tries to bury a laugh in a cough.

“Serious,” Phil corrects hesitantly. “But they’re not going to be there to be your friends—”

“I’m going to spend every waking second of my life with these guys,” Jo protests. “I don’t think it makes me a bad person for wanting them to be pleasant to be around.”

“You’ll like them,” Cole tells him. Jo gives him a wary look, and he lets himself laugh this time, saying, “They’re good people. Good to look at, too.”

When Jo makes a confused expression, Cole gestures at his face, and then his biceps, and says, “Good to look at.”

“Not that that matters,” Phil pipes up, just as Jo sighs, “That’s something.”

Cole grins, sharp, and Phil just rolls his eyes, and asks, “Can we do this? You trust me?”

Jo’s mouth twists unhappily. That’s been the million dollar question for the last few years of Jo’s life, is who he does and doesn’t trust. At the top of that list is Phil, though, so Jo nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “I trust you.”

#writing #fic writing #current wip

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froggibus · 11 months ago

Text

Rose Quartz - Venture

Pairing: Venture x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, bit of crack, one droplet of angst

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: in which Venture wants to confess their feelings for you, but keeps giving you rocks instead

CW: awkwardness, crushes, kind of unrequited love, mentions of crystals/rocks and their meanings, Venture avoiding their feelings, one (1) argument, aggressive kissing, reader calls Venture "nerd", NOT PROOFREAD

NEW BANNERS!!! IM SO EXCITED!! ive been wanting a more cohesive graphic for my posts rather than just reusing gifs, so I made these and I adore them!! first time writing about Venture and tbh it's a little juvenile but it kinda works with the theme. they're so adorable and i absolutely love them ^.^ (also happy canadian moment that they gave us an interesting canadian hero finally lol)

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Heavy boots trail after Sloan’s voice, prompting you to turn around.

“What’s up?”

They give you a toothy grin, holding up a hand to pause while they catch their breath. It’s a hot day in Petra, nearly scorching with all of the gear you have on just to enter the dig site. Even standing in the sun is enough to have you panting and sweaty.

Sloan releases one last heavy breath and closes the last few steps between the two of you. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

They’re so close you can see the sweat shimmering across their brow, smelling that familiar earthy scent of theirs that you’ve thought about for weeks now. The sun beats down overhead and you’re sure they must be boiling under their safety equipment.

You cock your head to the side, “what is it?”

“I just—I’ve been thinking for a while, you know? And I really thought that maybe—is it really hot out here? I’m really hot.”

You nod in agreement, cupping your hands around your eyes to block out the sun. You were just on your way back to the shuttle to your hotel room when they caught you, and you have little interest in staying in this heat.

“I should probably get going,” you admit, “it’s boiling and I need to eat.”

Sloan agrees all too quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I—I just wanted to know,” they loose a sigh, “do you want this rock?”

You’re taken aback for only a moment as they reach out a sweaty palm with a jagged pink crystal no bigger than a dollar coin. You reach out and grab it, your fingertips brushing their hand as you do. Sloan doesn’t miss the way you shiver from the contact.

“It’s pretty, what is it?”

Sloan scratches the back of their neck. “It’s rose quartz, I just thought you might find it pretty or something…”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You tuck the rock into your pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.”

Sloan watches as you spin on your heel and slowly disappear into the horizon. As soon as you’re out of eyesight, they let themselves sigh in disappointment and drop to their knees.

Confessing is much harder than they thought it would be.

—

You hold the rose quartz the whole shuttle ride to the hotel, rolling the cold stone across your aching palms. It really is a beautiful stone, even if it serves as a physical reminder of your own disappointment.

You thought, just for a moment, that they might feel the same way as you. That they were going to ask you on a date, at least. But you’ve thought that the past few weeks, and it’s only bred chagrin.

The cold air of your hotel room doesn’t feel nearly as nice as it should. Your skin still feels sticky, a layer of dust stuck to the sweat from the sweltering sun you spent the day under. But it’s not the sweat or the dust that has you feeling withdrawn—it’s the sight of the stones lining your night table.

You place the rose quartz at the end of a line of eight stones, admiring them all together. It’s a beautiful array of clear, pink and green stones. Some are smooth—like they’ve already been tumbled—and others are jagged, found raw and expertly cut from the rock they once formed in.

Your favourite, given to you just a few days ago, was a raw piece of rhodochrosite. Sloan had a big grin when they gave it to you, the stone warm from them holding it in their palm for so long.

You roll the stone in your palm for only a moment before ordering your usual room service, shrugging off your clothes and going to take a shower. The cold water feels amazing on your skin, washing the heat and shame of the day down the drain. For the time you’re in the shower, you hardly even think about Sloan or the collection of rocks starting to accumulate.

You only get out when your phone buzzes with the usual courtesy notification letting you know the room service cart is on its way up to you. The air conditioning feels much better after showering, chilling the bite of your skin. You dress quickly in pyjamas and get to the door just in time to let in the kind lady with your dinner.

It’s the same woman as the last few nights—an older lady with a dazzling smile that she flashes at you as she crosses the threshold into your room.

“Same as usual?” She prompts while she lays out the dishes on the small table in the corner.

“You know it.”

She finishes laying out your spread, the delicious scent nearly making your mouth water, before grabbing the cart and starting to back out of the room. She pauses just as she gets past your nightstand, her eyes flicking over the array of stones.

“Well, aren’t those pretty.” You smile in agreement, “they are, aren’t they?”

“Lots of love stones,” she says. “Were they gifted to you?”

“Love stones?”

“Yes,” she nods, “like rose quartz, and rhodochrosite. They represent love in certain practices.”

The information is like a slap in the face, leaving you so dazed that you forget to thank the woman as she leaves your room. Love stones? Why would Sloan be giving you love stones?

You’re near frantic as you collect all of the stones into your hand, forgetting your shoes as you burst out of your hotel room and storm down the hall to Sloan’s. You’re not sure if they’re even back from the site yet, or what you’ll say to them when you get to their room—all you’re sure of is that you want to know why they gave you the stones. The real reason.

Sloan is utterly confused when they open their door to see you there, hair wet and dressed in pyjamas with no shoes, holding out a handful of rocks. “Hi?”

“Why did you give these to me?”

Sloan swallows, dark eyes examining the stones clutched in your palm. “I just thought you’d like them.” A lie, a complete and utter lie.

They curse themselves for being such a coward and not confessing sooner—but you’re just so cute, and they like you so much, and they felt so damn awkward trying to tell you they liked you. Except now, with you standing so close to them, water dripping from your hair and rendering your pyjama top near see-thru, they feel much more awkward.

“Just because you thought I’d like them?” You’re breathing hard, eyebrows knit together in confusion, “or because they’re apparently ‘love stones’, whatever that means.”

From the way their mouth hangs open, you know you’ve caught them.

“Listen, I—I—”

You cut them off, “did you know what the meanings were when you gave them to me?”

“Yes,” they sigh defeatedly. “But I thought you knew!”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

Sloan peers down the hall, hoping no one is around to hear your rising voices. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Why? So you can keep leading me in circles, so I can keep wondering why you don’t feel the same way as I do?” The words come out before you can stop them, even the hand you clamp over your mouth doing nothing to keep them in.

Sloan’s shoulders sag. “I wasn’t leading you in circles.”

“Weren’t you?” You shake your head, turning away from them. “You just wanted to hide behind a bunch of rocks forever.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You shake your head, starting to walk away. You don’t get far, as Sloan grabs your shoulder and spins you to face them. You have no time to react as they grab the back of your head and shove your face into theirs.

The second their lips meet yours, all of the built up disappointment from the past few weeks melts away. You relax into their touch, letting their calloused fingers tangle in your hair. They taste citrusy, over just a hint of salt, and electrify you like a shot of tequila.

You pull away breathlessly, looking at them over your lashes. They’re smirking like an idiot, eyes practically sparkling.

“Still think I’m leading you in circles?”

You rest your hand on their waist, pulling them back to you in desperation. “Shut up and kiss me again, nerd.”

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #ow2 #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #venture x you #sloan cameron #sloan cameron x reader #sloan cameron x you #overwatch venture

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cantquitu · 5 months ago

Note

I keep making the foolish mistake of reading the comment sections of news stories about Liam. "If the hotel employees thought he was a danger to himself, why did they leave him alone?" My brother in fucking Christ, on what planet is a hotel employee equipped to handle something like this? Maybe they were concerned about the safety of their employees? "Why did his girlfriend leave him alone if he was struggling?" First of all, if she was tired of being in a foreign country, she is permitted to go home! Secondly, if he was experiencing mental health and substance abuse issues, she could not help him if he did not actually want help and being there could have been worse for both of them. Can we all just have a little more fucking grace for the people actually up close to the situation? Holy hell.

I'm not reading the comment sections, but it's always at times like this that I get intense "People are weird" feelings.

I really think human brains haven't caught up with the internet. The comments you mentioned are the kind of things people have always said. But in years gone by they would have been muttered over breakfast while reading the morning paper, or maybe said to your wife as you listened to the news in the car. Not words posted for the whole world to read on the internet! Words that can reach people actually involved, or those that love them.

"Why did she leave him alone if he was struggling?" Even the most cursory think about that question brings up countless possible answers, and many of those possibilities are heartbreaking. So if you HAVE to comment, all you need to say is "His poor girlfriend, hope she's ok". And jog on.

As for questioning the hotel front desk manager....my god. They tried to help! In the emergency call they actually said they couldn't get into the room, but even if they could, he was smashing up the place! What were they supposed to do?

Even within fandom, within 24 hours of Liam dying, fans were already back on their bullshit. Pulling apart the statements the 1D boys made on Instagram.

I saw people saying Louis' heartbreaking post was fan service, for attention. Can you imagine thinking that? And then writing it on the internet??!

People saying Harry's post was so impersonal, he has no soul. Over 14 million people have liked Harry's post since last night. Can you imagine, in your grief, knowing that millions and millions of people are going to read your words the second you post them? You haven't posted anything publicly in well over a year. Maybe you don't fucking WANT to write something about the person you have just lost and put it on Instagram for strangers to read! Maybe that is not how you express your grief! Maybe you're not ready! But you do it to pay tribute, because people need you to.

I just cannot understand some people's inability to put themselves in another person's shoes. Perhaps they are lucky enough to not have experienced or witnessed the grief and shock of sudden loss. Because if they had, they would know that the way people respond to it - the things they do, the things they say - are different from individual to individual.

Have some empathy and exercise some self-control in your comments. These are real life people ffs.

#liam payne #louis tomlinson #harry styles #1D

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bloodbrown · 1 year ago

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Protective P x reader headcanons

• If you met P for the first time outside Hotel Krat, unarmed, he'd literally just grab you and haul ass back to safety. His goal here was just to protect an endangered citizen, but this is when you started to fall for him a little. As time passes he grows fond of you too.

• P instinctively wants to shield you. Compared to his own tall, reinforced steel body, your soft mortal body is basically like a daffodil. If the situation ever came to it, he would take any and all blows for you to keep you unharmed.

(And btw I don't know how tall he is but I've seen people estimate he's above 6'0", which is amazing and I support it.)

• even if you've gained proficiency with a weapon, P does noooot like the idea of you accompanying him outside the hotel. If you insist, he stays close by your side. He occasionally extends his legion arm, stopping you in your tracks, to safeguard you from any potential dangers. He probably equips Aegis just for this.

• if you're ever injured, P begins to lose his typically calm composure. He'd dash to your side to get you to safety as soon as possible, and you hear him utter your name with distress as he scoops you up. As he carries you back, you can hear that the rhythmic ticking of his mechanical heart is clearly faster than usual.

• the whole time you're recovering, P sits by your side. He shoots you one of his disapproving looks if you try to exert yourself before you've fully recovered. At least you know you're in good hands with your sweet puppet looking after you.

#lies of p #pinocchio #lies of p headcanons #lies of p x reader #p x reader #liesofp #pinocchio x reader #October 2023

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lexsssu · 11 months ago

Text

Attached (Alastor)

TAGS: Alastor/Dragoness!reader, some plot, fluff(?), drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

You found him bleeding out at the site of a wreckage.

Wherever it is you were transported to, it had certainly seen better days. Aside from the red sky, the debris and ruins that littered the ground were alarming. If there’s one thing you can be sure of, it’s that you’ve arrived at the scene of a battle.

One that had thankfully seemingly concluded just before your arrival.

Which also explains why the deer-like individual had such terrible gashes upon his body as he rested against the broken audio equipment.

In spite of the voices at the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Momonga and Tabula Smaragdina, you forego the logical choice of leaving him there to secure your own safety in this new environment.

Instead, you crouch down on his side and run the sharp tip of a claw on the skin of your wrist until a small gash bloomed open.

You cup the back of his head and press your wrist against his slightly open mouth, taking no notice of the shadows on the floors writhing and spreading like mold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I never knew my parents,” you admitted nonchalantly as you petted the demonic-looking cat that bore a striking resemblance to the Radio Demon who loomed over you from behind your seat.

Surrounding you were the Hazbin Hotel’s residents, including the head honcho of hell himself, Lucifer. They’d given you a summary of everything that had happened with the angels, and in turn, you answered their questions about you.

“..You don’t know a single thing about them?”

Lucifer who had gone quiet the moment you entered the newly made hotel spoke for the first time, staring at you with an odd look in his eyes.

“No, I don’t.”

Not knowing your own parents was never an issue for you, because you still grew up surrounded by love and friendship from the makeshift family you had at the orphanage.

“From what the orphanage director told me, my name was stitched on the blanket I was wrapped in. She figured that I probably got my name from either of my parents.”

You were naturally talking about your actual name, and not your beloved in-game avatar’s name.

Not that any of them knew that.

Had you clarified this tidbit of information from the start, it might have prevented all the misunderstandings that swiftly followed after your admission.

Before you or anyone else could react, Lucifer lunged at you.

Shouts of surprise reverberated across the lounge as the king of hell and the overlord clashed for seemingly no reason. Alastor’s body shielded you, elongated antlers and sharp teeth in full display, whereas Lucifer stood with all three pairs of his wings spread out.

"̴͉̟͠͝A̶̛̯ṅ̸͔d̴̹̒͝ ̶͕̙͛͘w̷͎͕͋̕h̷̨̲̐̓a̴͔̪̐ṱ̵̚ ̴͖͚́d̴̝̾̄ŏ̶̢͍ ̷̖̾̎y̷̮̅o̴̫̩͝u̷͍̕ ̴̨͕́̕t̷̪͂̍h̶̲͎̿͝ĩ̴̠n̷̙̙̄k̴̙͊ ̸̧͖́́ý̴͔̮̈o̶̱̹͗̒u̶̞͋'̴̦̔̈́r̷̘͔͐ě̶͉̗ ̸̳̱̋d̶͓͝o̸̱͎͒̚ì̶̦͘n̸̖͇̑g̴̝̠̀?̶̝̔"̶̰̆

“Get out of my way,” the venom that dripped off Lucifer’s voice could only be comparable to the way he spoke to Adam not too long ago, noted Charlie. Even odder, there was a tone of desperation that felt out of place to her.

Unbeknownst to her and everyone else, she would get her answers almost immediately.

“I don’t give a single fuck about your petty contracts, but you will not prevent me from being with my own daughter!”

Charlie’s whole word seemingly exploded as all hell broke loose after Lucifer’s revelation, and all she could do was stare with her mouth agape.

Her dad had a lot of explaining to do, and she had a new sibling to get to know.

#lexsssu writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #crossposted on ao3

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foxaftershocks · 1 year ago

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In the Field (Lars Pinfield x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You finally get the chance to go into the field and meet a ghost in the wild.

Words: 2.9k

Be warned, there will be much discussion of slime inside

It wasn’t often you were allowed in the field. You were much more used to sitting behind a desk, tinkering away with the new tech. You only ever saw ghosts in a safe, contained environment. Lars had made it perfectly clear that you were to stay behind and run interference from the lab. Someone needed to be able to do the remote stuff for him according to him.

But this time the Ghostbusters were a man down and they needed some backup. You suited up, strapped on your proton pack, and hopped in the van with the rest of the equipment. Sitting shotgun beside Lars, you watched the city zoom past, the siren loud in your ears. You were smiling to yourself, ignoring the way Lars eyes kept darting over to you.

“Just remember, this isn’t about having fun,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s a bit fun though, right?” you asked, smiling over at him.

His eyes darted you for a moment, looking less than impressed before returning to rad. Your grin settled more deeply on your face and you could feel yourself bouncing in your seat. You watched him instead, his sure movements making you feel a little hot under the collar. His eyes flicked back to you then quickly away again when he noticed you watching him.

“Be careful,” he said as he pulled up curb side, “it could be dangerous in there.”

“Aw, are you worried about my safety?” you asked, turning towards him.

He didn’t answer, climbing from the van and slamming the door. you laughed to yourself, joining him on the street with the rest of the team. Lars was already handing out the new tech, leaving you looking up at the old hotel towering above you.

“Hey Pheebs,” you said, getting the teenager’s attention.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“What kind of dog does a chemist have?” you asked.

“I don’t know. What kind of dog does a chemist have?” she asked, playing along.

“A lab…radore,” you replied, grinning over at her.

Her lips quirked up into a small smile and you nudged her with your shoulder, smiling down at her.

“Hey, nice to see you out of the lab,” Gary said, joining the two of you considering the building.

“Thanks. I didn’t know fresh air could smell so fresh,” you replied.

“That’s why it’s called fresh air,” he replied.

“No way,” you said, pretending to sound amazed.

“Alright, everyone know the plan?” Callie asked before he could say anything else.

The general agreement was enough for the group to surge the entrance, proton packs at the ready. From there, you split off, peeling away from one another. You and Lars took the stairs to the higher levels, leaving the basement to the professionals.

The long hallways began to blend together as you walked behind Lars, looking at the readouts from your equipment. He had his headphones on, swiping the microphone past the doors. You found yourself watching him more then the equipment. It was probably for the best you didn’t spend much time with him in the field.

He was always a distraction to you.

The minutes stretched out, leaving the two of you in silence. You knew he said it wouldn’t be fun, but you didn’t think it would be this boring. Some excitement would have been nice.

“Hey, Lars?” you asked, jogging to walk beside him.

“I can’t listen if you talk,” he said.

“Why don’t you ever let me join you in the field?” you asked, looking up at him

He glanced down at you, looking less than impressed by your question.

“You know why,” he replied, “we need you doing the remote work. Will you let me listen now?”

“Why can’t you be the one doing the remote work sometimes?” you asked.

He sighed, barely containing a roll of his eyes. You snorted, looking down at the PKE meter in your hand, raising an eyebrow at the reading.

“Hey, Lars?” you said.

“I need silence to listen,” he said.

“Yeah, but Lars-“

“If you’re not going to take this seriously you can go stay in the van,” he interrupted.

“Okay but-“

He sighed, stopping as he turned to look at you. You froze, looking up from the PKE meter readings. He pulled the headphones from his ears leaving them hanging around his neck and if you weren’t so worried about the readings, the fierce look on his face might have been unspeakably attractive. As it was, you found your gaze drifting to something over his shoulder.

“We’re not here to mess around with ghosts. This is serious work. You can’t be messing around like you do in the lab,” he was saying but your attention was so focused on what was going on down the hall.

Phasing through the far wall, blue light was reaching out towards the two of you. Fog curled along the carpet, the air growing cold where it touched your bare skin. Lars hadn’t noticed yet, so focused on telling you off he was missing it. the ghost itself was tall, almost skeletal. It took slow steps down the hall, stretching above Lars, hair brushing the ceiling.

“Lars,” you said, interrupting him.

“What?” he snapped.

You pointed over his shoulder. He turned, slow to look up into the grinning face of the ghost. Its lips had pulled back, almost too far, exposing more teeth than anyone should show. One translucent hand reached out towards Lars, fingers curling as if threatening to squeeze his body once it had him in his hold. He took a stumbling step back.

You dropped the PKE meter, pulling your proton gun into your hands. You held it up, waiting to see what Lars would do. He told you to let him take lead, and you were trying but he seemed to be fumbling to pull his own proton gun free.

The ghost bent down until it was eye to eye with Lars. You watched as he froze, holding up both hands to it, trying to placate it. You held your breath.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Lars said.

That was the wrong thing to say. The air grew colder and the ghost screamed in his face. Ectoplasm splashed into his body, coating him with enough force he went flying backwards. You managed to jump out of the way just in time, slamming into the wall. The ghost advanced, grinning down at Lars. He struggled, trying to wipe the slime from his glasses.

“Oi, chuckle brother. Look over here,” you shouted.

Lars’ eyes turned towards you as the ghost turned its head to look down at you. You steadied yourself for a moment, bracing yourself against the wall before letting the proton stream go free. It burst from the nozzle, red light and sizzling electricity slamming into the wall across from you. Making a worried noise, you turned it towards the ghost. The stream wrapped around its body, holding it in place.

“Hey, Lars,” you called down to him.

“What?” he demanded, still wiping at the slime on his glasses.

“Trap,” you shouted to him.

With a surprisingly practiced motion, he slid the trap he’d been holding along the carpeted floor until it was positioned under the ghost. You slammed your foot down on the pedal. It opened with a loud beep. Struggling with the gun, you forced the ghost down until it got caught in the vacuum of the trap, sucking down into it. You shut your gun off, taking your foot off the pedal, closing the trap and containing the ghost.

“What were you talking about? That was totally fun,” you said, looking down at the still smoking trap.

“Maybe for you.”

You turned. Lars was finally climbing to his feet, slime dripping from his body. You couldn’t help the giggle that came from you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stifle it but not managing very well.

“Come here,” you said.

He took a trudging step towards you. You met him half way, still giggling. Reaching up, you gently took his glasses from his face, wiping away the slime on your uniform. You were careful as you placed them back on his nose. He’d pushed his hair out of his face and although he was dripping, he’d done his best to wipe his face clean.

“There you go,” you said, voice low, as if the moment was private.

“Thanks,” he said.

“We make a good team,” you said.

He glanced over your shoulder at the trap. He stepped around you, picking it up and if you checked out his ass as he bent over that was no one’s business but your own.

“Let’s see if the others have captured any specimens,” he said, the moment you’d shared now broken.

“Sure.”

You followed behind him again, avoiding the dripping slime he left in his wake. The rest of the team was clustered in the foyer of the hotel, looking a little worse for wear.

“Did something explode?” you asked, joining their group.

“Yeah, it was awesome,” Gary said, wearing the vestiges of of the smoke on his face.

“Lars got slimed,” you said, “I had to save him. It was pretty awesome too.”

“Nice.”

The two of you shared a high five.

“So we’re done? We won?” Lars asked.

“Got a couple of bad boys right here,” Callie said, holding up some traps.

You took them from her, doing your best to avoid the smoke coming from them.

“Nice haul,” you said, “these are gonna be fun to study later. I can just feel it.”

“We should get these into the containment unit,” Lars said, taking the traps from you. He left a slime residue on your finger.

“Good work, guys,” you said over your shoulder as you followed Lars back to the van.

You climbed into the passenger seat, lying down some towels on the driver’s seat for when Lars joined you. He pulled open the door, traps stored safely in the back, and looked down at the towels.

“Protection,” you said at his questioning look.

He climbed in beside you, his flight suit stripped down, arms tied around his waist. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, surprised at how much that look was working for you. He glanced at you before starting the van.

The drive back to the lab was quiet. You weren’t quite sure what to say to him and he didn’t even attempt to say anything to you. You kept stealing glances at him, missing the fact he was doing the same to you.

When you arrived back at the lab you split from him, taking the traps to the containment units while he cleaned up. The slime had begun to harden and flake off his body as he scratched at it. It was like he had a horrible skin condition. That wasn’t working for you so much.

You stripped out of your flight suit, getting back into your jeans and tank top. A bruise was beginning to bloom on your shoulder, presumably from where you hit the wall avoiding the slime. After depositing the ghosts into the containment unit you wandered back to your bench, wanting to note down the exact experience with the one you’d caught.

“I really don’t like ectoplasm.”

You startled, looking up. Lars had approached your bench, blond hair still wet, dressed in a t-shirt and some sweatpants. Your mouth went dry and you knew you were staring but you couldn’t help it. Usually dressed in a button up shirt and a tie, this casual look was making you feel feral, like you wanted to sink your teeth into him. He was rubbing a towel through his hair, doing his best to dry it.

“Does anyone?” you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, his glasses askew and a small smile curling up the corners of his lips. You loved this small shared moments in the lab, right when you were the last two there, the lights dimmed, the dark pushing in from the outside.

“You did well today,” he said, surprising you.

“You think? Maybe I could start coming out more often,” you said.

“You’re hurt,” he said.

His fingers brushed over the bruise on your shoulder. You shivered under his touch and he snatched his hand back.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” you said, shaking your head, surprised by how much you wanted his fingers back on your skin.

“This is why you can’t come out into the field,” he said, voice hardening, turning away from you.

“Why? You just said I did well today.” You couldn’t keep up with him and his changing moods.

“You got hurt,” he said, voice tight.

“So? The others get hurt all the time and you don’t ban them from busting,” you said.

“Because they’re not you,” he said, whirling to face you again.

“What?” It felt as if the air had been forced from your lungs.

“I can’t see you hurt. It.. I’m not…” he thrust his fingers into his hair, clenching in his frustration, “I won’t see you hurt again.”

“Lars,” you said softly, standing from your stool, reaching a hand out to him.

“I can’t concentrate if I’m worrying about you being hurt. That’s why I tell you to do the remote work. That’s why you can’t do any more field work,” he said.

Your hand landed on his shoulder, index finger running along the collar of the t-shirt. You saw him shudder but didn’t stop, even when you brushed against the skin of his neck. You took a half step closer, staring up into his frustrated face, your other hand clutching the soft cotton of the shirt closer to bellybutton.

“And how do you think when you’re out there and I’m stuck behind a screen? You go out and I’ve seen you come back with all kinds of injuries and sometimes I think one day you won’t come back and there’s nothing I can do about it,” you said, dragging him closer, “I care about you, Lars, and it kills me that I can’t be out there with you watching your back.”

He looked stunned, as if you’d just told him something groundbreaking, but for you it was the simple truth. Sure, you’d had fun in the field, but you only ever wanted to be there to make sure he was okay. You wanted to protect him, as much as he seemed to want to protect you.

“I’m always going to come back,” he said, voice softer now, full of wonder.

“Egon Spengler didn’t,” you said.

He considered you for a moment, eyes darting over your face. You realised your hands were still on him but his warmth was comforting after the chill of the ghost.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he all but whispered, forehead falling forward until it rested against yours.

His hands came up, resting on your waist, towel dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. Your breath caught and you couldn’t even be embarrassed by it when it felt so good to be touched by him. You surged up, lips pressing to his. His hands slid further, pressing into the small of your back, pulling you closer. You sighed into his mouth, melting against him, your every dream coming true.

The heat of his skin seeped into your, warming you up until you thought you might catch fire. He kissed you deeper, more intensely, tongue sweeping into your mouth. You squeaked as he pressed you back, lifting you until you were sitting atop the bench, your legs either side of his hips. You hauled him closer, leaning down, enjoying being taller than him for once. You moaned and the hands that had fallen to your hips tightened before he tore himself away.

Chest heaving, lips kiss stung, flush high on his cheeks, he never looked better to you. He stared at you and you stared back, heart thumping hard in your chest.

“We’re at work,” he said.

“We are,” you agreed.

“We have more work to do.”

“We do.”

He took one step closer, then another and you could touch him again. Like a magnet, you were drawn to him, your hands reaching for him without conscious thought. He allowed you to pull him closer again but you didn’t try to kiss him, just needing to feel him under the palms of your hands.

“I suppose I can suffer through you being in the field some more,” he said, “after all, we seem to make a good team.”

You laughed, curling your body around his in a hug. He froze for a moment before his arms curled around you, holding you close. You buried your face in the space where his neck met his shoulder, his skin smelling of soap.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He pressed a kiss to your temple and you drew back, looking into those blue eyes that had haunted your dreams.

“We should get back to work,” he said.

“Must we?” you asked.

A small smile flirted with his lips and you found yourself smiling back. He pressed a slow kiss to your lips, keeping it chaste lest you get carried away.

“To be continued later,” he murmured against your lips.

“Fine,” you sighed, sliding from the bench, your body brushing against his the entire way down.

You might have agreed but you’d never promised to fight fair. And from the look he gave you, you thought you might be able to change his mind pretty quickly.

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield

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xxzlushiez · 2 years ago

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Make some noise

B. Kaulitz x M! Reader

Synopsis: Your band is the opening act for Tokio Hotel’s concert and Bill falls in love with your voice.. and other things abt you (Not proofread yet😓)

Notes: 18+, Name is a singer, bill crushing hard, making out, subtle touches, dirty thoughts, boners??, oral, Name wears makeup (not specified what kind), Name’s sexuality isn’t labeled, dacryphilia

A/N: I came to the realization that I haven’t wrote M! Reader so I decided to🤭GONNA WRITE OTHER ONES SOOONN BUT NEED IDEAS. I hate this one so much I feel like it’s rushed

“I never knew somebody like you, somebody, Falling just as hard, I’d rather lose somebody than use somebody.”

- When he found out an American band was the opening for their concert he was a little confused

- But either way, German or American he was excited to see them preform

- Apparently the band was popular in multiple countries and was on tour in Germany and he got just a little intimidated

- But tried to think of it as more people to be acquainted with

- Talked to staff about the band to learn more

- When the bus had arrived he was the first out to go greet them with the rest of the band

- There was 3 other members that came out before he saw you

- You looked drop dead gorgeous

- Like you had just come out of a modeling gig

- Wanted to greet you guys but got to nervous so he left to go do his makeup and decided to introduce himself later

- You thought it was a little weird that everyone else but the lead singer was there to greet you but brushed it off as him being busy

- You and your band began setting up your equipment on stage while conversing with the other 3 from from the band

- You watched everyone do their thing for the most part but got pretty close with the bass player of their band

- He told you about the lead singer and you learned he was just nervous about the show so wasn’t able to come out (lieeesss)

- You made a plan to wish him luck after the opening

- when it was time to start the show the venue was filled to the brim with people (is that a safety hazard?? Who cares)

- Bill had retouched his makeup dozens of times and and stalled for so long that Tom had to come and drag him out so he could watch the opening with the rest

- found out that the reason your band became so popular was because of your almost sexual way of singing (ehehehehe😈)

- was a litttttle confused about what “sexual” meant but very quickly understood the once you started

- You voice was soft and almost whiny? like you were begging, pleading for something

- from the way you moved to how you caught the audiences attention it was all just so…uhhh pornographic in a way??

- an eye opening experience fs😭

- Georg told him that was the whole point

- one time you had made your way across the stage near the group and looked at him and smiled before continuing to indulge in the crowd

- noticed how hot his body was and the buzzing feeling yk…(do I have to spell it out?)

- one moment between songs you pulled at your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead and he came to the realization of something

- He had a crush on you or was at least severely attracted to you (whatt I never should’ve guessed😐)

- By the time the opener came to a close he realized he hadn’t taken his eyes away from you once

- when making your way to your designated room you nodded at him and gave him a light squeeze on the arm before wishing him the best

- Maybe he was overthinking…

- But it seemed like you were flirting with him the way touched him and how close you got

- it was like you had already figured out what you did to him

- forgot a little about it while preforming but yk…it’s hard to forgot someone like you

- so naturally his was filled with pictures of you that were not so innocent

- Glanced backstage during a song and noticed you were watching

-saw you were only watching him and was screaming (mentally bro…this isn’t Schrei )

- When the concert ended the group was full of adrenaline and excitement from preforming

- One of your members suggested his band join your’s for drinks at a near by club

- Ofc he agreed alongside everyone else and made their way to your band’s car

- When he opened the car door he stopped so quick you were the first thing he saw

- Sprawled across the few seats in the back row, hand up your shirt, eyes closed probably cooling off from the summer heat

- Of course you were gonna be with the group and he was gonna have to see you laying out before him like you were

- that was supposed to happen later you silly🙄

- You apologized and sat up to accommodate for the extra people

- finally grew a pair and introduced himself to you

- staring at your legs because they kept touching his when you readjusted yourself

- lightly shifting your hips to get comfortable

- Bill is a starin hard asl trust me (in a trance)🙏

- noticed you didn’t talk as much as he thought you would’ve

- Only when talked to directly did you look up from the phone in your lap

- When you did it was with Georg which made him a little jelly bc he wanted to talk with you too

- frustrated bc of how silent you were (like how can someone with such a voice be so quiet)

- didn’t have the confidence to talk to you w/o being sure he wouldn’t bend you over right then and there

- When you did talk he was all ears staring at you

- heart eyes when you brought up how he “did so well” on his performance

- innocently placing your hand on his knee when leaning forward to talk with the bassist

- Fought the knee jerk reactions it gave him when you did

- Took the time when you were quietly scrolling on your phone to admire you

- Staring at all the details of your face and taking a mental picture (for laterrrr)

- Noticed all the small things most wouldn’t like how your makeup accentuated your features

- wanted to just reach out and trace your face with his finger

- counts your beauty marks and freckles if you have any

- Saw the way you fidgeted w/ your lip piercings when listening to the person talking to you

- He wanted to fidget with your piercings to :((

- When they arrived everyone made their way to security to get in

- while getting out you leaned in to whisper to him

- “You should probably fix the boner you have before coming in.”

- Before hopping out of the car and making your way in with the rest of the group

- Mortified was the only way to describe how he was feeling😰

- so embarrassed that he just stayed in the car for like 20 minutes (contemplated stealing the car and driving to the hotel)

- eventually just made his way inside because if he couldn’t get over the humiliation sober he definitely could drunk

- After he ordered a drink he observed the club, the fluorescent lights and loud music helped him forget about what happened

- untillll he saw you and Tom chatting up some girls surrounding you both on a couch near the VIP rooms

- He expected it from Tom but he definitely didn’t from you

- noticed pretty quickly that he was watching and sent him a almost unnoticeable smile before turning back to the girl laid out on your lap laughing at something she said which was most definitely some corny joke that wasn’t even funny (can you tell he’s jealous?)

- saw the way the girl played with your hair and fidgeted around with your hands

- face flushing he quickly downed the drink the bartender dropped off

- Couldn’t tell if he was confused or turned on by how you were acting with him and how undeniably attractive you looked doing it

- Pushed his way through the crowd into a empty bathroom

- After staring at himself deciding if he should just leave for a few minutes someone knocks and opens the door

- Surprise surprise! It’s you ofc who else?🙄

- “what’re you doing in here?”

- “Came in to see if you got rid of your problem yet”

- Jaw DROPPED

- but he hadn’t…sooo

- you stared at him through those heavy lashes like you expected him to give into you or something

- he did (duh)

- pretty aggressive kissing

- like shoving each other against the wall and everything leaving you gasping into him and him laughing against you type of kissing

- Plays w/ your piercings nonstop

- “What about those girls you left huh? What about them?”

- Shaking your head you laugh at him and he feels his face get warmer

- “Is the little rockstar jealous? Don’t worry they weren’t really my type but I can ask them to join if you want?”

- got that familiar knot in his stomach just hearing about someone else In the position he was in

- “no..only you, jus’ want you”

- Pulls and tugs at you shirt until you get the hint and finally take it off to his pleasure

- presses the softest of kisses against your stomach when making his way down

- teases you abt how much noise you make when he knows he’s stroking you so well knowing your finally getting what you both want

- palms the head when you try and push your hips toward him

- uses his tongue piercing to his advantage

- Found out he got aroused when he saw you tear up while fucking into his hand😦(whattt no way)

- Holds your hands above your head when you try to cover your mouth

- “I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours let me hear every sound you make”

- Was going mental listening to you

- “ your moans drive me so crazy….ah! please don’t stop!!”

- “wanna see what you do to me?”

- “Am I making you feel good? Please…please Name say I am”

- likes to be praised and told he’s doing a good job

- so harsh w his thrusts bc he wants you tell him he’s doing well

- Eye contact through the mirror AHHHHHH

- Pushes down on your neck to make your back arch up into him

- mini photo shoot of you both while he’s balls deep inside you he’s just like “cheese!”

- overstimulation😵‍💫a little self indulgent

- bro’s whiny himself and you are both just so LOUD but tried to cover his up so he can hear yours

- was a eeny weeny bit mean honestly🤭

- wants to be the only one to hear the sounds you make

- made you look at how good he’s plowing in and out of you

- pulled completely out to see the sexed out expression you make just to shove all of him in again to see your eyes roll back and hear you cry his name in complete bliss

- having sex w him was so so chaotic

- so many positions (like…so many)

- risking getting caught by doing it in a public bathroom

- when you licked down to the base of his cock he almost passed out

- like pushed you off covering his mouth panting bc typa pass out💀

- 100% a switch bc he just likes you to use him sometimes🤭

- more of a giver than a receiver but doesn’t turn you down if you want to just pleasure him for a while

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businessnetworkphilippines · 5 months ago

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The most Trusted Safety Equipment Supplier in the Philippines discusses the importance of wearing safety shoes in industrial workplaces.

#safety shoes supplier philippines #full body harness supplier philippines #fire safety equipement supplier philippines #trusted safety equipment supplier philippines #hotel accessories supplier philippines #hotel trash bin supplier philippines #hotel waste bin supplier philippines

0 notes

wthtorke · 1 year ago

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Snowstorm

*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh

8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader

Enjoy! <3

You often put others' needs before your own.

Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.

After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said.

You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold.

Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself.

Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it.

Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.

You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.

The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.

The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could.

Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already.

You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.

You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?"

"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?"

You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it.

"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike.

You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case.

On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot.

You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time.

She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?"

"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!"

The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included.

The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile.

You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.

"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?"

"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead.

As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle.

You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees. You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?”

“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.

“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.

The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.

“Avalanche! Run!”

You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip.

You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow.

Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge.

He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it.

He saw it coming.

You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.

He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.

Still, he needed to close the entrance.

The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks.

It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over.

It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic?

“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp.

“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,

Finding something else entirely.

It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore.

Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.

And you faint.

The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop.

He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious.

‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks.

He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that.

Now, for air.

He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it.

He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more.

Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.

He turns back to you and walks over.

He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow.

Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.

You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream.

A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”

It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.

He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand.

You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately.

He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door.

“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”

You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”

Again, no reply.

The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.

“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.”

“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods.

“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could.

You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal.

You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully.

You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons.

Oh, God.

“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze.

He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?”

He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?”

“-Like me.” He repeats.

“Your own species? Like a cop?”

A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”

A strange sound comes from him. A scoff.

“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter.

You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”

You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich!

Your…second sandwich.

“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him.

He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.

“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing?

“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”

He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.”

You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich.

He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you.

You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off.

Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.

He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it.

You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you.

Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

Maybe he was just -shy-.

The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole.

If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him.

You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.

You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.”

He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?”

He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane."

Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."

"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"

"Yes. -Yes….Yes."

"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."

He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?"

He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks."

You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well?

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.

You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen?

“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.

He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.

You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"

He starts laying his own things out.

A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar.

You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it.

The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods.

You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer.

"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again.

You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.

You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see.

Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up."

He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling?

The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh."

Hot. He is hot. Literally.

You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at.

What a Tarzan moment.

You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say.

He takes a while but nods.

He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced.

He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me."

He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.

You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."

He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired.

Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering.

"Scary."

You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?"

He nods again.

"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.

What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up.

"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram.

While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him.

Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.

"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.

Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit."

He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.

"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated.

He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection.

You close your eyes for a second.

Just a second.

You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?"

Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.

You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm.

You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off.

You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.

You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring.

Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up.

Storm is looking at you.

Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were.

And then the eyes. His eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird.

Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still.

‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’

Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask.

He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.

It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile?

You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.”

You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing.

You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.

After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem.

You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.”

Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded.

You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.

By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you.

“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return.

The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else.

Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now.

You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm.

Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark.

The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.

You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay.

You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay. You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep.

The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable.

As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was.

Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands.

You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.

It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake.

You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep.

You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees.

You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.

He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath.

“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you.

It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.

You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder.

His heartbeat.

Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.

His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie.

The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking.

He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still.

He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver.

You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.

“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.”

Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it.

You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise.

Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast.

You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more.

You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast.

Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.

You struggle not to scream this time as well.

Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask.

You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again.

You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go.

You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away.

You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.

“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.”

The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance.

Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view.

The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.

You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later.

She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you.

One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving.

You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.

You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.

Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months.

One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.

Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel.

You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking. You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off.

The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat.

You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

Note

I blame this one on watching too many racing movies recently, but Racecar driver Hob and nepo-baby Team sponsor Dream.

Dream somehow (he suspects Desire) becomes the representative of the Endless Corporation for the racing team they sponsor. It is Dream’s idea of hell, large crowds, loud noises, fleeting seconds of action to watch directly, and then being expected to chat with others while watching the tv screens. He doesn’t know what is happening and doesn’t really care, and it shows. Sure, being in the luxury of the owners/sponsors box helps, but still he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dream eventually heads to the team’s garage with the excuse that he wants to listen to the race engineers and driver directly. Everybody in the garage is too busy doing their job to try and chat with him or pay him more attention than is needed to get him a headset and settled out of the way, so it’s perfect for Dream.

Robert “The Immortal” Gadling is the newest addition to the Endless racing team, so named because he has survived more on-track crashes and accidents than any other active driver, most of them weren’t even his fault. He always says the reaper is going to come for him in a car, so he might as well make it an interesting death. The press thinks he is just a thrill seeker chasing fame. In truth, he lost Robyn, Elanor, and the baby from being hit by a drunk driver while he was driving, and it haunts him. He wants to prove that he is the best driver, because if he is the best and he still lost his family in an accident, then no one else would have reacted faster or handled the car better.

Hob isn’t the best yet. He is always in the upper pack but hasn’t consistently broken onto the podium. He’s hoping this new team will be a chance to really show what he can do. Hob always has a running commentary going on the team comms no matter how long or intense the race is. People constantly have to break into his chatter to give him the information he needs about the car, his competition, or track conditions.

Dream is intrigued by this man who constantly jokes around while driving a heavy death machine around at break-neck speeds. They end up talking a few races later when after the race Dream stays long enough for Hob to notice a new face in the garage. Dream finds he enjoys having all that intense focus on him alone. Chats after the race become drinks out, then become dinner together. Soon, they are exploring the cities the races are in together when there is downtime. Eventually, they end up testing the structural integrity of Dream’s hotel’s beds as Hob sets out to prove that he is an athlete in peak shape thank you very much.

Poor Dream who has never had a healthy relationship in his life is insistent that what they have is a friends-with-benefits or fuckbuddy situation even though neither is looking elsewhere, they are always talking to each other and they’ve both shown each other the skeletons in their respective closets. Hob would like to call their relationship more but also knows his constant dance with death or at least serious injury is as good a reason as any for Dream to avoid any kind of commitment to him not counting both their emotional baggage.

Things come to a head when Hob is caught in a multi-car crash and is sent rolling into the center of the track where the car quickly catches fire. Dream pushes himself into the pack of people from the team following the first responders to the crash, hoping that the safety gear the team poured some of the sponsorship money into actually did something. He isn’t allowed on the medical helicopter when Hob is airlifted out, but he does set some speed records of his own getting to the hospital.

The safety equipment does its job and Hob will only have to miss a few races for recovery, but Dream is not letting Hob go one more day without formalizing their relationship because no one else gets Hob, not even Death. Hob’s memory of that first “I love you” is hazed by painkillers, but they exchange the words so many times during his hospital stay that he isn’t too worried about it.

When he is cleared to begin racing again Hob starts consistently placing on the podium and each time he makes sure his boyfriend gets caught in the champagne spray no matter how much Dream grumbles about the cost of cleaning his designer clothes. Years later, when Hob retires from being a driver so he can spend more time with his husband, he is considered the chattiest driver of all time, Dream listened to every single one of his races after all. He also incidentally will be remembered as one of the best drivers of his generation.

-💥

I know close to nothing about racing but omg I am so here for this!!! Driver Hob!!! Chatty, risky, charismatic driver Hob with a tragic backstory!! I love it, once again I can only thank you for honouring me with this mini fic <333

I love to imagine Hob doing press conferences and managing to turn every answer for every question into a rant about how amazing Dream is, he loves Dream so much, he never thought he'd be able to get to the top of his sport but Dream has given him the motivation. And Dream himself is standing at the back of the room desperately wishing that the floor would swallow him up <333

#💥 anon #the sandman #dreamling

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1-helluva-hazbin · 8 months ago

Text

Always Something Underneath

Chapter 3 - Sips of Chamomile

Lucifer x Fem!reader (prostitute character w/ accent)

Content warning: slow burn, writing an accent, quick proofread, reader death, reader revival, choking,

Chapter Summary: Always having done what you need to survive and get ahead, you take a job that has a lingering consequences. While trying to recover though, Lucifer notices.

Word Count: 3443

Chapter 1 𖤐 Chapter 2 𖤐 Chapter 3 (You are Here) 𖤐 Chapter 4 𖤐 Chapter 5 (WIP)

Dieing was awful. You knew that. Death had taken you, both willingly and maliciously, a multitude of different ways since you had plunged yourself into the depths of hell. It had just been so long since you had died last, your memory had somehow forgotten or glossed over just how taxing it was; the exhaustion -physically and mentally-, the adrenaline crash leaving every limb involuntarily shaking, not to mention the painful healing process. The painstaking and searing rebuilding of your body. The scorching brand of your sinner status.

Your neck ached from holding up your head up, the ring of bruising hardly the worst of your pain. The slightest swallow unleashed a burning sensation that cascaded up towards your jaw and simultaneously down into your torso. Each breath harrowing despite it being shallow, your stenosed trachea screaming at every intake. The slightest movement, jerk, or muscle contraction evoking excruciating consequences.

The pay was worth it. A weeks worth of clients covered by a single death. A price worth the prize. At least, that was what you told yourself. Over. And over. And over.

Who were you kidding?

It was unequivocally a boon that was insufficiently compensated by the price.

Your feet dragged as you marched onwards. The usual clack of your heels now a scraping, not that anyone cast you a second glance. Vigilantly, you surveyed your path alert for other hotel residents. The arduous task of having to dance around a conversation without your voice, draining you at just the thought. Explaining the experience you just endured, let alone why, wasn’t something you were equipped to even muddle through at the moment.

As the hotel came into view, your body relaxed a little. The thought of climbing into your bed, caccooning yourself in your favorite blanket, and passing out again kept your feet moving. You choked up at the sense of safety you knew you would find which sent a ripple of pain through you.

You just had to make it through the lobby.

Carefully, you wrapped a semi-sheer scarf around your throat as you walked towards home to mask the black and blue remnants of your work; tight enough it wouldn’t slump down but loose enough it wasn’t inflicting further pain on you. A pair of sunglasses in addition to it to hide your sunken, pale eyes that hadn’t yet recovered from your revival. You fixed the rest of your attire to make it less apparent you hadn’t dressed in a flurry, finishing just as you approached the door.

You stopped and took a quick, agonizing breath before pushing it open as slowly and quietly as you could. Thankfully, the boisterous crew over at the bar hadn’t spotted you as you let the door close with a soft ‘thunk’. You bee lined for the stairs. Someone hollered your name out as you strode with intent, which you figured would happen since you had gotten into the habit of having a drink when you got off work, but you quickly dismissed it with a polite wave as you kept moving. You heard your name once more in fading volume as you ascended the stairs, thankful that it didn’t seem like they were chasing after you.

Of course, who would have? Never in your life or afterlife would have never thought you’d be thankful for that.

Your speed didn’t waver once you were past the lobby and only as you stood in front of your door did it force you to stop. Your hands adeptly retrieving your keys and unlocking the gate to refuge. You nearly fell over as the door unlocked and hastily relented to your demand for entry. As the door lurched inwards, the effort to save yourself falling resulted in a seizing pain as your head lulled and the neck muscles flexed out of reflex. Your mouth opened for a soundless scream as tears prickled your eyes. The reaction itself further inflicting a second bout of agony. You kicked your heels off and slammed the door closed.

In a flurry you undressed, bearing the shooting pain before crawling into bed with your phone in hand and curling up in your blankets. You began fiddling with the pillow which took some time. Finding a comfortable position that supported yet didn’t over extend the neck turned out to be quite the conundrum. Not impossible though. Once you had finally found a tolerable way to lay, your body began to unwind. Your eyes grew heavy as the tension eased from you, exhaustion lapping at your consciousness. Beckoning you to slumber and you eagerly obeyed, your eyes drifting shut before slipping into oblivion.

𖤐

The awakening that greeted you the next morning was arduous. Your body heavy with fatigue with your aching throat screaming for relief while your stomach simultaneously twisted and turned, tearing at your gut in protest of the unintentional fasting you had inflicted upon yourself. You emitted a whimper at the ailments foisted upon you first thing. The parched throat and exhaustion were things you could have turned a blind eye on in lue of returning to your slumber. Your stomach’s fit was far too much to bare.

Carefully, you tested how your throat reacted with a tentative swallow. It protested with a burning sensation but, it wasn’t as horrendous as it had been the day prior. The next test was a slow turning of your head. It was intensely stiff and it shot the sensation of pins and needles across your shoulders and upper back but, it didn’t reduce you to tears. You took a tentative deep breath, or two, before you pushed yourself up. You took pause, closing your eyes to determine the damage; feeling the aches and pains. Every infliction.

You could make it to the kitchen and back as you were. Slowly you hoisted yourself up and fetched a loose dress and another scarf from your closet, dawning them both before beginning your quest.

It still seemed to be early morning. The hotel eerily quiet with it’s occupants still slumbering from their late nights. Except for Niffty. You could hear her giggling somewhere in the distance, likely roach hunting, which made the haunting stillness all the more foreboding. With a quickened pace, you found yourself in the kitchen rather quickly. Niffty’s giggles barely audible now which eased some of your tension.

Boiling water for a chamomile tea the first task you set about before turning your attention to determining what you should eat. Scouring the cupboards and fridge, the only tolerable foods seemed to be applesauce, Nilla wafers which you figured could soak in your tea, or maybe ramen if you overcooked the noodles. None of it sounded appealing. As your stomach raged, you decided a little bit of applesauce and wafers would do though.

The assemblage of wafers on a small plate and applesauce in a bowel came together just as the water started boiling. A flick of the wrist turned off the stove and as you sought out the mug you wanted. Like nails on a chalkboard you heard from behind you, “Goooood morning. Please grab me a mug as well.”

A glance over your shoulder revealed Lucifer waltzing into the kitchen already made up for his day. His eyes bright with his practiced smile gracing his lips. As if he had already been awake for hours.

Fuck.

You hummed out a soft ‘mhm,’ to at least acknowledge him as you pulled a second mug out and turned away from him to grab a teabag. You paused a moment, glancing back at him after feeling his eyes boring into you, finding him doing just that. Normally you would already offered a good morning and would have asked if he was having tea but, you hadn’t tested your voice yet and were, admittedly, a little afraid to. You quickly tried to recall how long had it taken last time to get your voice back; as if you really could remember.

Rather, you held up the bag of chamomile tea in your hand at him. He blinked a second and shook his head, “Oh no thank you. I’m more of a black tea drinker myself.”

You quickly smiled and nodded at him, grabbing an earl gray tea bag to hand off. His brows knitted together as you turned back to your own tea and quickly combined the bag and water before turning to him and putting water into his mug, leaving him to unwrap and soak how own.

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

You laughed softly at your situation, though it worked for his comment as well you supposed, realizing the afterlife wasn’t going to cut you another break. No, your luck had run out yesterday with getting through the lobby. Carefully, you blew on your basically still just hot water and took a small sip before clearing your throat to respond in a raspy, forced crackle, “Yeah, well, jus’ dealin’ with a lil’ som’in.”

Lucifer’s face contorted; brows pinched painfully tight together, his frown slanted asymmetrically making his eye squint, as his head tilted. You couldn’t stop another soft giggle from burbling up, the expression tickled you. At least until his eyes flitted down to your scarf and the expression slid from his face.

In your hurry to appease your stomach’s tantrum, the scarf hadn’t been as well secured as you had thought. During your journey, it had slid down just enough to reveal a small band of bruising. He took a second to process the glimpse he caught before his eyes shot up; pupils dilated making him look a little crazed. “Are you okay? What happened? Was it one of the people you saw at work?” The words flooded out, frantic and panicked.

Quickly, you held up a hand, promptly halting any further grilling. “Nawt… here. Please.”

You pick up your plate and tilted your head towards the door, beckoning him to follow, before you made your way towards one of the many parlor rooms Charlie had designated for groups or social gatherings. Most people didn’t use them outside of those. The one you led him to was your favorite. It was located on the second floor, not particularly far from the kitchen, and had a set of perfectly worn club chairs with an accompanying shared end table between. Both of which faced a floor to ceiling window that overlooked the streets below. There were plenty of other seats to claim with several other sofas, tables, and arrangements set up but, you enjoyed being able to people watch.

Claiming one of the seats, you made yourself comfortable after setting your plate and cup down. Lucifer apprehensively followed suit. As he sat, you carefully grabbed your now properly steeped tea and took a sip finally finding able to take a full, flavorful taste that finally soothed some of the ache in your throat. After the moment of temporary relief passed, you opened your eyes to find him waiting.

“So…” he probed gently as you picked up a wafer to dip into your tea to soften, “what’s going on?” His fingers drummed on his mug before he too took a slow tentative sip of his piping hot tea.

Deferring your answer, you look away. Your full attention going to the wafer as it soaked up the chamomile flavor. Just as it started to crumble, you hoisted it to your mouth where it promptly fell apart with little effort or mastication. Finally, you tempted a swallow followed by another small sip of tea, pleasantly surprised to find your body amenable to this tactic.

Your eyes met his again and were surprised to see him patiently waiting. It made you feel bad. Here he was worrying about you. Giving you space to gather yourself. To prepare. It was hell after all. Stories of being assaulted was just another Tuesday for a good number of people. Yet your truth wasn’t so tragic. You take a breath and rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “It was werk. People aw willin’ ta pay ta kill someone sometimes an’ they pay a pretty penny. I jus’ gawta heal up from it. There ain’t nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

Your voice sounded stronger now though talking still worked healing muscles and punished you for it. You sought out a sip of tea again, admonishing yourself for not procuring honey. You paused drinking when you heard a quiet, “Why?”

“Why… what?” you raspily counter over the rim of the cup, studying his expression. Trying to glean any information you could.

“Why did you do it?” he gave you nothing. His face relaxed. Any emotions that warred within him shielded behind a mask of impassiveness. “You mentioned when we first properly met you were just keeping the job to protect your reputation should redemption fall through. Why would you go to that extreme?”

Why did his lack of emotions dig at you so deeply?

Someone walking down along the street caught your attention through the window and you looked to them. Your eyes glued as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. As you watched them though you did think about it. Money really had been the answer to his why but, he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t actually need it at this point. During your stay you had accumulated quite the nest egg and stashed it away. Yet you had still jumped at the opportunity to make more money despite your newfound security.

“I… I think it’s cause I’m still sawta stuck in survival mode. Maybe. I dunno.” you stop a moment to clear your throat and shrug. Looking down to your tea, your thumb caressing the side of the mug. “It just…seemed supa easy. I died befoa so it didn’ seem lika big deal an’ the money is pretty nice. Can neva have ‘nough. Ya know?”

You look up to Lucifer, realized he was the king of hell, and giggled out at the absurdity of your failed epiplexis as well as to break the tension. “Well, I suppose maybe nawt. King a hell an awll. Don’ seem like the sort that gawta worry ‘bout that kinda thing.”

A long drink eased the ache again before you picked up another wafer to dunk, noting your throat felt worlds better.

“If redeeming everyone falls through, we aren’t just going to abandon everyone.”

Lucifer was looking out the window as he spoke. When your attention snapped to him, he seemed adrift in his thoughts. It was as if you were peering at a painting capturing this intimate moment in time. On hand was on his cane that was draped across his lap while the other held the handle of the mug on the table. One leg crossed over the other as he leaned all the way back. The soft red glow of pride ring illuminating his pearlescent skin with soft hints of neon accenting his jawline and brow bones from the business signs across the street. Yet his hat cast a shadow across his eyes that, in your interpretation, made him seem tired. Forlorn.

When he turned to you, the small smile he gave made your heart squeeze. Your breath caught in your throat as your chest tightened. The uncomfortable clenching something you hadn’t felt in… how long? You hadn’t felt it during your sinner life. Having lost yourself in the feeling a moment too long, by the time you tore your eyes off of him you found the wafer you had been soaking, had fallen apart in your fingers and disappeared to the bottom of your mug.

“Charlie wouldn’t do that.” A whispered utterance. The small smile remained on his lips as he sipped his tea and looked back outside. Dawning the same expression from before.

Staring at the sunken wafer as his words processed, the silence that lingered was something of comfort. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair and looked outside with him. More people were beginning to pass by as the morning wore on.

“It’s hawd.” His head cocked slightly and he turned just enough to look towards you comfortably. You remained quiet though, watching the people outside. Someone began yelling at another person which suddenly escalated to fists being thrown. You heard Lucifer ‘tsk’ and noted the shake of his head from your peripheral.

“What do you mean?” he finally inquired as he turned away from the skirmish.

You looked away from the brawl as well, meeting his eyes when you finally did speak, “Ta rely awn someone. ‘specially dahn here. I know ya Mornin’staws ah, quite literally, a different breed an seem ta mean what ya say but… it doesn’ stahp the emotional walls from bein’ up. From feelin’ like… ya still the only one who’ll take cara ya.” A quick sip soothed your throat again, “Can’t stahp mah’self from wonderin’ when the otha shoe’ll drop.”

You offer a small smile at him. Lucifer was gazing down at the floor though and seemed to be processing what you were saying. “Just… gonna take time. Ya know?”

Lucifer slowly looked up to you before returning the smile and nodding. His eyes slipped to the scarf for a moment before he tore his eyes away from it. It made you swallow out of reflex. You wondered for a moment if he would be willing to heal your throat but, thought better of it. You already owed him a favor and you really didn’t want him thinking you were spending time with him just because he could do something for you.

No. You had known the consequences when you did it and were willing to accept them. That was part of this whole redemption thing wasn’t it? Accepting you fucked up. Seeking forgiveness for your wrongdoings. Letting people support you and giving you the grace to be better.

Gently, you reach your foot across the expanse between the two of you and nudge his leg with a playful bump. “Thank ya, dowll.”

“Thank you? For what?” Lucifer asked, a little surprised having shot a look at your foot before up to you again.

“For carin’. I know I prattle awn so, for listen’ as well.”

Lucifer blinked. Slowly, his face eased into an expression you couldn’t peg. It almost looked like a combination of amusement and pity but, by the way he chuckled out neither of those seemed quite right. “You’re quite welcome.” He glanced a way for a moment and then back.

“Do you think…” he took a breath and his mouth hung open a moment, the words stuck. He then seemed to think better of it and shook his head and let out a ‘hmm’ as he indulged in his tea.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him. “Cat got’cha tongue? Guess there gotta be a first time for every for everything but, ya don’t need ta clam up ‘round me, cheeks.”

Lucifer’s brows furrowed at the new nickname. “Cheeks?”

A raised brow at him and a moment to think on it didn’t seem to spark any idea on where the name came from so you lightly tapped your own cheek where his rosey red circles would have been on your face if you dawned them. He scoffed out and shook a head with a bemused roll of his eyes. “Told ya that ya opened a can-a-worms.” you laughed out, finishing off your tea leaving the crumbled wafer at the bottom.

“You’ve certainly been true to your word.” Lucifer grinned, giving you the same look from earlier you couldn’t quite figure out. It made your chest tighten.

Voices off in the distance echoed into the room, both yourself and Lucifer turning slightly at the sound. Lucifer sucked in a breath and stood up. “Thank you for the pleasant chat and for being honest with me about,” he motioned to your neck, “your ailment. I…”

He hesitated as he stood there a moment, his hand clamping down on his cane. “I do hope… you can begin to feel like you can depend upon us.” he turned and smiled, almost as if he had wanted to say ‘me’ before he had a thought and laughed out nervously at it, “I mean ‘us’ as in here at the hotel. Everyone at the hotel. Like Charlie! And Mag-, I mean Vaggie! So you don’t feel like you HAVE to do…that again.”

He wheezed, coughed, and cleared his throat. His practiced smile plastered again on his face again. “Thank you for the company.”

“I’ll see ya ‘round Luci babe.” you giggled out as he briskly retreated, leaving you to finish your snacks before making your own retreat back to your room for the rest of the day.

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