#the fact that Karen was caught off guard by the question

[cluelessbees]

I feel like we don’t talk about the fact that Joyce asked Karen about how Mike was doing in season 1 enough

[lovelettersforthedamned]

re: “congrats on 200 followers, lovely!! you deserve 100x more! could i request 8 from the angst prompt + hurt/comfort 5 ❄️❄️”

oh my gosh i didn’t even realise i forgot to put a character - suppose that’s what happens when you spend all night on tumblr 😭 tasm Peter or Matt Murdock pls <333

Priorities

--genre: angst :(

--pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, arguing, matt is the king of self sabotage, angst.

i'm a sucker for some good angst omg

“He hasn’t been alright (Y/N),” Karen sighs, “when he’s here he’s on edge. I know he can hear things we can’t, but it’s like…it’s like he’s not really here.”

You’re sitting next to her at Josie’s bartop, the crowd is mellow on this rainy Wednesday night. You can tell Karen is genuinely concerned about Matt, the look in her eye tells you so. You’re running through the possible reasons why your boyfriend could be feeling this way, but you draw a blank. You furrow your eyebrows, frustrated, “He’s been quiet lately, but he never brings it up.” 

The blonde in front of you takes another sip of her drink before she clears her throat, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the devil.”

You can only nod your head. You hate when Matt gets in over his head about his nightly activities, it’s hard when you can’t do anything about it, not like he lets you anyway. “I’ll keep an eye out for him the next few days,” you reach into your wallet for cash, “just keep me updated about how he is at work, okay?”

She stands with you from the seat, giving you a tight hug as you say your goodbyes, and heading home to your apartments. You can’t help but think about Matt the entire walk home, your mind taking you to dark places. It wasn’t hard to worry about him, considering the fact that he loves to push himself past the limit more often than not. 

You would never tell him to stop, right? 

***

For the next few days, you start to pay attention to Matt when he’s home. The first thing you notice is that he seems to always be in a rush. He’s quick to get ready for the day, and he’s quick to get ready for the night. You’re not sure where this sudden boost in drive has come from, but what Matt doesn’t realize is that the quicker he riles himself up, the harder he plummets. 

You’ve gotten multiple texts from Karen during the day that Matt is blowing up on Foggy while clients are in the room. You know that something’s wrong, and you don’t know how to fix it, but you have to try. 

Later that day, you caught Matt putting his suit on to go out into the city, the sun draining the light away from your apartment. As he’s about to put his helmet on, your voice interrupts his movements, “Matty, can we talk real quick?”

He sighs, already walking away from you, “I’m about to leave, can we talk later?” 

“How long have you been feeling like you need to do more for the city when you do more than enough?” 

Your question catches him off guard, he stops in his tracks, his back facing you. He can hear that your heart is beating faster than normal, the question making you nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, quickly. 

You cannot help but laugh at his response, “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Shaking his head out of frustration, he takes a deep breath, “You don’t need to worry about anything that I do when I’m out at night, trust me.”

“Another shitty lie, Matty,” you walk towards him. Once you reach his back, you raise your hand to hold his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. Unconsciously, he leans into your touch. You know that he’s been craving this kind of softness since he started to act differently. “You know that I still worry, even though you tell me not to. I can’t help it,” you speak softly. 

And suddenly, it’s like his hard demeanor returned with a flip of a switch, “I need to get out there (Y/N),” he shrugs his arm out of your hold. You’re left there standing like an idiot in the middle of the living room as you watch your boyfriend walk away from you. You can’t help but feel angry, it’s like everything you said went through one ear and spilled out the other. Turning on your heel you walk to the closet, pulling down the suitcase, letting it slam on the floor. You don’t care. 

The obvious slam caught Matt’s attention, his worries now focused on you. He hears more shuffling coming from your shared bedroom, along with sniffles. He calls out to you, before walking to you, “(Y/N)?” 

He’s met with no response, just the sounds of your muffled sobs and the rustling of clothes. As he gets closer to you, he can taste the salt in the air as your tears stream down your face, and suddenly he’s panicking. “I never wanted it to get to this point,” you zip up the suitcase as you rise to your feet, Matt’s sudden appearance scaring you as you see his figure. 

His eyes are darting back and forth as he tries to de-escalate the situation, yet his tone is still sharp,  “What point?” 

You’re still a mess, running your hand across your eyes to wipe your tears, you smear your makeup across your skin. With an uneven breath, you respond, “You’ve reached the point where you stop valuing yourself and the people around you to dig your own grave, Matthew.” You try to make your way around Matt, but he doesn’t make it easy as he holds your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

“Don’t make me do this,” he says quietly, “don’t make me choose.”

You think that you’ve actually gotten through to him, you hope a sense of clarity has finally washed through his senses. Until you see his head twitch, his ear lifting towards the air. You can’t hear anything, but you know that he already has an exact location of whatever commotion is happening in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

With your boyfriend distracted, you shrug his hands off your shoulders, “Looks like I didn’t have to make you choose, you’ve already figured out your answer yourself.” 

As you’re walking out of the bedroom and towards the front door of the apartment, Matt calls for you, “I’ll be back in a few hours, then we can talk, okay? Just–please, don’t go anywhere.”

And just like that, he slips out of the window, not even waiting for your response. Maybe Matt’s heart will never fully belong to you, and you should’ve known that when you first met him. He has always and will always dedicate himself to the city, and you’ll just have to come to terms with not being his priority. That is if you stay. 

--author's note: I KNOW THAT MY 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION IS DONE, BUT I HAD A BURNOUT PERIOD SO HERE'S ONE LAST FIC!!! ❄️ anon this is such a good request, thank youuuu! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open, so send me your juicy ideas baes...ok, bye ily<3333

[bambirex]

Steddie request! Steve getting a shovel talk from Wayne? 🤔

Warnings: none

**

Steve was fairly certain he has never been this scared in his whole life.

Meeting the Wheelers back when he was dating Nancy was nothing compared to this. Karen was nice enough, if a little uptight, and Ted only cared about watching TV anyway. He probably didn't even realize Steve was in their house.

Now, Wayne Munson was intimidating: he always had a stern look on his face, all furrowed brows and tight lips and with eyes that could stare straight into your soul. He probably could, because Steve had an uncomfortable chill running down his spine as Eddie's uncle stared him up and down.

"Do you love my nephew?"

The question caught Steve off-guard. Parents and other relatives usually started with more simple questions to get to know him, but it seemed like Wayne preferred cutting straight to the chase. Then again, Eddie was the same.

"I do, Sir," Steve replied honestly. Even when he was scared shitless, he could only smile as he thought of Eddie. Just imagining his smile had him blushing like a silly teenage girl with a crush. Of course, he loved him. There was no doubt about that.

Wayne hummed. He rapped his fingers on the edge of the table. It sounded like gunshots in the awkward silence.

"And, you're serious about this? Dating him?"

"Yes," Steve wiped his clammy palms on his jeans. "I'm not... You've probably heard things about me."

"I have. I've heard you are anything, but serious."

"I've changed," Steve promised. He gathered all his courage and looked into Wayne's eyes. "I'm not proud of who I used to be but I'm different now. Not the idiot I was, I promise."

"Eddie might look like he's all wild and careless," Wayne sighed. He pulled out a chair and sat in front of Steve. "But he's much kinder, much more emotional than he looks. I don't want you to break his heart."

Steve would rather die than to do that. The old Steve Harrington wouldn't have cared so much, but he was truly different now: he wasn't a careless coward anymore who only cared about himself. Being friends with a bunch of weird kids taught him that there was more to life than being popular. It was okay to feel things genuinely.

"I won't."

"He's quite vulnerable," Wayne continued, "you know, he's never really had a good parental figure. He only had me. And he's different than most kids. He is an outsider. And I don't want to find out you're just playing with him and making him feel even more miserable."

Steve had a very good knack for dealing with outsiders, that much was true. And yes, Eddie was something else, but he was everything that Steve ever needed. The fact he was a little weird didn't change that.

"I care about him a lot," Wayne's voice softened, and for the first time since he opened the door to a nervous Steve, he smiled. "Almost as if he's my own son. And if someone hurts him, they hurt me, too."

His eyes hardened again as he looked at Steve. Shit. Even Steve himself started smiling, believing the old Munson warmed up to him, but it seemed like he wasn't off the hook just yet. He gulped, shrinking under the searching eyes.

"I want you to treat him with the respect he deserves," Wayne grumbled, "I want you to accept all his quirks and to show him how much you care. I want you to protect him if he needs it, but I also want you to realize that my nephew is strong and brave. Don't think he couldn't shove you up against a wall if he wanted to."

"He already has," Steve chuckled. When he realized he actually said that out loud, he turned a deep shade of red, avoiding Wayne's thunderous eyes. "I mean, uh. Not like that."

(It was very much like that, but Steve decided it was better not to keep digging his own grave.)

Wayne shook his head and sighed. "Steve, I'm serious. I want you to be the kind of guy he deserves."

"I'm trying," Steve said, "I really am. Look, I don't know if I'll ever be that guy because Eddie deserves the best and... I don't know anyone could be as good as he deserves. But I'm trying, Mr. Munson, I promise. I'll never stop trying."

For a few seconds, Wayne didn't say anything, but the lines between his brows softened. Steve felt himself deflate a little, now that it seemed like Wayne wasn't about to murder him.

Steve felt extremely relieved when Eddie finally showed up. He wanted nothing more than to fly into his boyfriend's arms, but he was worried Wayne would be weirded out by such open affection.

Eddie decided for him: he quickly walked over to the couch where Steve was sitting, pulled him up quickly and into his arms, and gave him a long, deep kiss on the lips. Steve's cheeks heated, and he cast a quick glance at Wayne over Eddie's shoulder. As expected, he was staring at him sternly.

"I hope you didn't scare him too much, Wayne," Eddie chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist. "Wouldn't appreciate if you chased away my boyfriend."

"We just talked," Wayne said easily, "right, Steve?"

"Yeah, yeah," he stammered. He thanked the Gods for Eddie's arm holding him, otherwise he would have passed out.

On their way out, Wayne whispered to him "keep your promise, or I'll find you", and Steve nearly peed himself again.

"Sorry about my old man," Eddie chuckled, once they were outside, "he can get a little intense."

"Ah, no worries, it wasn't too bad," Steve lied. Eddie sent him a glance that told Steve he saw through his bullshit, which was no surprise, considering Steve was still holding onto him like an anchor.

One thing was for sure, he needed to work very hard to gain Wayne's approval.

Until then, he was going to continue loving Eddie just like this - with all his might.

[chvoswxtch]

Can I get a smut/fluff matt murdock. He gets home before you which is odd when he realizes that your at the boxing studio trying to get out your frustration on the kingpin case.

hi angel! sorry this took so long!! I hope this is what you were looking for. :) thank you so much for the request!

warning: contains sexual content. as always, minors please dni. also I was listening to not afraid anymore by halsey while writing this which inspired the title and the spicy part heheh, just a little fun fact. listening is optional! word count: 2.3k

not afraid anymore.

Matt had never seen you angry before. He didn’t think he had ever even heard you raise your voice at anyone before. Sure he had seen you annoyed, frustrated, stressed, even cranky when sleep had evaded you and the sweet relief of caffeine hadn’t yet hit your bloodstream; but never anything stronger. Anger was an emotion Matt was all too familiar with, one that oftentimes got the best of him, but one he hadn’t yet seen come out in you. Which is why he was shocked to say the least when he found you at Fogwell’s wailing down on a worn out punching bag with an intensity that nearly rivaled his own. 

Not only was he stunned with the force behind your punches, but also the impressiveness of your form, like you had done this before. Like this was some familiar routine of yours he had somehow missed. Matt searched the depths of his brain for any piece of conversation or any anecdote that would put the scene taking place in front of him into focus. You had never mentioned an interest in boxing before. You were a pacifist as far as Matt knew. You had asked him questions about his father when Matt first told you about him, and first brought you to Fogwell’s to show you where he trained sometimes, but your inquisitions were only about Matt’s better childhood memories, not his father’s career or his own training. 

Had he missed something? He remembers coaxing you into the ring with him once with a promise of teaching you how to throw a punch, something he did think you should know, but the lesson was soon forgotten when the two of you ended up a tangled mess on the mat instead; lessons and clothes long forgotten. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he honed in on your body. Your heart was thrashing against your rib cage, breaths jagged and shallow as you threw hit after hit. Sweat glued loose strands of hair to your face and heat pooled in your cheeks as tiny grunts of anger left your lips every so often. Matt was stupefied in place by the palpable rage he felt flowing freely through your veins. He didn’t know whether to be concerned, proud, or turned on.

Had something happened today to set you off? You weren’t at the apartment when Matt got home, which was unusual considering you were always home before him. But there were times you had to stay late at work, and he figured you must have been caught up in a project and forgot to tell him that you would be late. But then another hour went by and he still hadn’t heard from you. He called your phone three times but you didn’t answer. He checked with Foggy and Karen, and neither of them had heard from you either. After stopping by your office and hearing the security guard confirm you had left for the day hours earlier, Matt started to panic. He tried his hardest to steady his inexorable anxiety, focusing solely on your scent and following the invisible trail you left behind. His mind raced with worst possible case scenarios as he swiftly navigated the busy streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Matt was so lost in his own head, he didn’t even recognize where he was when he stopped in front of a building where your scent had stopped. It took him a minute to register that he was standing in front of Fogwell’s, confusion settling in further when he heard someone inside. As he quietly stepped through the doors, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when he realized that someone was you. 

Matt had been standing here for ten minutes. Your scent was incredibly faint, but it was unmistakably yours. He would know it anywhere. But it was also…his? He recognized the scent of his own shampoo and body wash lingering on you, completely masking the sweet citrus of your usual products. Is that why he hadn’t sensed you being in here before in any of his previous visits? How long had you been coming here without him? Why hadn’t you told him about it? Why were you going to lengths to hide it from him? Without thinking, he took a step forward towards you, freezing when his shoe made a squeak against the floor. You paused only for a moment, scoffing in annoyance before returning your fists to the bag.

“Jess, you know I hate it when you’re late and don’t tell me you’re going to be. Seriously, a text takes 5 seconds.”

Jess? Surely you didn’t mean…

“Please tell me you don’t mean Jessica Jones.”

This time when you faltered, Matt heard a sharp gasp leave your lips and the skip in your heartbeat. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, but not with anger. Matt could feel the swift change in your demeanor, all that fiery rage icing over with trepidation as you slowly turned around.

“What are you doing here?”

Your voice was quieter this time, almost small like a child who had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Matt furrowed his brows as he cocked his head to the side, settling both of his hands on his hips.

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

He heard a soft sigh of defeat leave your lips, wiping some of the sweat off your forehead with the back of your wrapped hand. You both knew an excuse was no use. There was no lying to him, and he would get the truth out of you one way or another.

“Jess…is teaching me.”

“Teaching you? Teaching you what? And since when is she Jess?”

“Since she’s my friend, Matt. She’s just…teaching me how to protect myself.”

“How to protect yourself?”

“Among other things.”

“What other things?”

Matt didn’t know what answer he was expecting from you, but it certainly wasn’t that. Since when were you close with Jessica? Why was she teaching you? When the hell did this start? Why didn’t she say anything to him about it? Anger began to simmer in Matt’s blood knowing Jessica had been keeping this secret from him. God only knows what the hell kind of shit she was filling your head with.

“Self defense, that’s all.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? Why have you been hiding this from me? I thought we didn’t have secrets.”

Matt tried to dispel the sting he felt at the realization that you had gone to someone else besides him for this, and that you had been hiding it purposefully. It must have been evident in his voice, because he heard the guilt in yours when you spoke. 

“I…I didn’t think you would teach me. I didn’t think you would want to. And I thought you would be mad if I told you what I was doing. I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t-I only kept it from you because I didn’t want you to be angry with me. Please don’t be upset with Jess, I made her promise not to tell you.”

“Sweetheart, I offered to teach you how to hit.”

“Yeah, how to punch Matt. But would you have taught me how to disarm a gun from someone? How to block a knife? How to take someone down twice my size and strength?”

Matt’s perplexity only grew with every word you spoke. He stepped forward until he was standing in front of you, cradling your face in his hands and gazing blankly down at you in pure concern.

“Angel, why do you need to know all that? What’s this about? What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to be scared, Matt.”

“Scared of what, honey?”

“Fisk.”

Matt felt a pang in his chest at the vulnerability in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the guilt that flooded him at your confession. 

“Sweetheart…you know I would never let anything happen to you, right? You know I’m always going to protect you. Please tell me you know that.”

“I know that, Matt. But I also know what you and Foggy and Karen have planned…it’s brilliant. It’s a really good strategy, but you know it’s going to piss him off. He’s going to retaliate, someway, and I am not going to be a goddamn damsel in distress. I don’t want to be afraid of that asshole, or whatever sinister plans he has. I don’t want you to have to worry about protecting me. I want to be able to hold my own. I don’t want to be…I’m not afraid anymore.”

Matt, Foggy, and Karen had been working on a way to bring Fisk down in court. They finally had a break discovering a huge piece of damning evidence, but they had to play it just right. It was a huge risk, and they all knew the reward would be just as huge, but so could the consequences. The plan was to take Fisk down within the confines of the law, as far down as they could. They had been working on it for months, and Matt suddenly felt remorseful that he hadn’t checked in on how you felt about it all. Of course you knew what was going on and what they were planning. He had kept you completely in the loop. But he hadn’t taken a moment to sit down with you and talk about what this could mean, and to discuss any apprehensions you might have had. He hadn’t taken the time to put your mind at ease about the foreboding consequences. He just assumed you knew he would do anything in his power to protect you. Matt never once considered that you would want the power to protect yourself. 

“I…I’m sorry, angel. I never…I just assumed you knew that I would take care of you. That I would protect you. I never stopped to ask you how you felt about all of this-“

“Matt, I want you guys to do this. You have to do this. Fisk has made a career of hurting innocent people, and hurting the people that I love more than anything in this world time and time again. I don’t want to have to worry about something happening to Karen or Foggy because of him. I don’t want to even think about losing you because of him. I want you to take him down, for good. I just want to be prepared for when you do.”

There was an edge to your voice Matt had never heard before. This side of you was entirely new to him. He had only ever known you as gentle and soft spoken. You weren’t a pushover by any means, and had no problems being firm when you had to be, but this was different. There was venom lacing your words when you spoke about Fisk, even a hint of a warning in your low tone. Your heart was pounding at a furious pace, but with an honest rhythm. You meant every word, and Matt didn’t think he had ever been so fucking turned on in his entire life.

“Alright, sweetheart. Show me what you can do.”

After about thirteen tries, you managed to take him down. Although that had more to do with Matt growing impatient and his throbbing cock aching for attention. He let you take him down, but he would confess that later. He’d let you try again for real another time. But right now, he needed you. His hands gripped hungrily at your hips as you writhed on top of him with insatiable desire. The entire gym was filled with the echoes of your hips colliding together at a ravenous pace, a cacophony of your lascivious moans and Matt’s filthy praises pushing you for more. A devilish grin overtook his mouth as his hand wrapped tightly around your throat, deciding to get a little revenge with his pleasure. 

“That’s my fucking girl. Let go for me, let me have it. Let me have it all. Scream for me, angel. Wanna hear my name coming from that pretty mouth.”

Matt didn’t bother holding back his own shout of pleasure when your walls tightened around him, triggering his own powerful release. He chuckled darkly at the sound of the door slamming shut and the groan of disgust that resounded throughout the space.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you two. Matthew, you fucking asshole. I know you heard me coming, you little shit. You could’ve warned me.”

“You could’ve told me the truth about what you were doing with my girlfriend, Jones. We’re even.”

“We are so far from fucking even. The amount of therapy I am going to need-“

“Like you would actually go to therapy.”

“Okay, can you two not argue right now? Seriously I am naked, and Matt you are literally still inside me. Jess, you’re late, and if you hadn’t been late, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

Matt snickered as he lazily grabbed his shirt, lifting it up to cover your breasts before resting both of his arms behind his head with a satisfied grin. 

“So technically, this is all your fault.”

“Fuck you, Murdock. I’m sending you a bill for emotional distress. I accept payments in cash and bourbon. Also, I don’t know why you bothered covering her up. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Matt nearly choked on his own spit at those words, quickly sitting up on his palms with furrowed brows as his eyes darted blankly between the two of you rapidly.

“Wait, what?”

“None of your business. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N/N.”

Matt gazed at you in shock for the second time that night, a symphony of your giggles hitting his ears as you leaned in to wrap your arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Let’s go home, Matty.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Thought This Was A Closet Party

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter helps you with a favor that brings you closer than ever. Like, stuck in a closet together type of close

Masterlist

“Hello Peter.” You greeted him stiffly. “You look very sexy today.”

Peter swiveled in his chair to look at you, perched in his door way with a look on your face that he knew all too well.

“Oh God.” He groaned. “What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something, my delectable best friend?” You asked as you walked into his room and shut the door behind you. Peter his earbuds out and looked up at you, giving you his full attention.

“Maybe because called me “delectable”.” He said pointedly and you waved your hand in dismissal.

“Haha.” You faked laughed and draped yourself over his lap, making him adjust himself in the chair to catch you. “You are just as funny as you are handsome.”

“Fake flirting?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he secured his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off the chair. “What do want? My kidney?”

“Oh, Peter. You are so silly. Your sense of humor is unmatched.” You laughed again as you patted his chest. “Have I mentioned I love this flannel? It’s so rugged and lesbian chic. You fill it out really well. Is it Gucci?”

“It’s from Goodwill and I’m not giving you anything. Flattery gets you nowhere-“

“Hold on.” You interrupted before sighing dramatically. “Sorry. I just got lost in your eyes. They remind me of the ocean.”

“My eyes are brown.” Peter shut you down instantly.

“I know. Water pollution is so devastating. I bet you could end it with just a smile and a wink.” You flirted around you walked your fingers up his chest and booped his nose.

“That’s one of the weirder come on’s I’ve heard.” He laughed at you. Even thought he knew you were only kidding, it didn’t stop his heart from pounding when you flirted with him. He did his best to keep a straight face as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. You looked up suddenly and your face softened, almost like you were being genuine for a moment.

“Your face looks scrumptious in the moonlight.” You deadpanned, making Peter groan loudly and rub his tired eyes.

“I need you to stop.” Peter whined as you laughed at yourself.

“I fantasize about us being in love to fall asleep.” You continued your charade as you wrapped your arms around his neck. That one hit a little too close to home for Peter and he blew out a breath.

“Just take it. Take my kidney. This is unbearable.”

“I really like your personality.” You tried again.

“Not gonna happen.” Peter insisted.

“You butt looks good in those jeans?” You phrased it as more of a question as you looked at him with hope.

“You got me.” He sighed. “You know my butt is a direct pathway to my heart. What do you need from me?”

You smiled with pride as you finally broke him down and climbed off his lap.

“I need an interview with Cleatus Kassidy for an article.” You told him as you clasped your hands under your chin.

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “Where is he?”

You took a step towards Peter and brushed a curl behind his ear, letting your hand rest in the back of his neck and and tangle in his curls. He knew this was just another step in your scheme to get him to help you, but he couldn’t help from leaning into your touch.

“Queensboro Correctional facility.” You said sheepishly, and Peter finally understood what all the flirtatious precautions were for.

“He’s in jail?” Peter nearly screamed when you broke the news.

“No.” You said and Peter relaxed. “He’s in prison.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Peter dismissed you and held out the scissors again. “I’d rather you take the kidney.”

“Please?” You pleaded and tilted his chin up to look at you. “I can’t be a criminal investigator without any experience and I’m already behind since my stupid professor doesn’t like me. Which is insane, by the way, since I’m adorable and charming.”

“Yeah, I cant imagine why he wouldn’t like you, you being so humble and all.” He replied. 

“Right?” You answered, unaware of his sarcasm. “I need this to prove I belong in his class. This is the break I’ve been waiting for.”

“What do you need from me?” Peter sighed. “That doesn’t mean I’m helping, I just want an estimation on how stupid this plan is before I put an offer down.”

“I need you to help me break into the prison so I can put my name in his visitors list.” You said all in one breath.

“You want to break into jail?” Peter whispered harshly so his aunt wouldn’t hear.

“No.” You said bluntly. “I want to break into prison.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Peter held up his hands in defense and swiveled back to face his desk.

“Peter, please?” You begged as you turned his chair around. “Do you understand how much this means to me?”

“And do you understand that people typically try to break out of prison? Not in?” Peter sassed you.

“But this is the only way to get on his visitors list.” You whined. “I’ve tried calling everyday for the three weeks but he keeps getting his phone privileges taken away for behavioral misconducts.”

“What kind of behavior misconducts?” Peter lowered his eyebrows skeptically. You looked down at your hands and timidly picked at your chipping nail polish.

“The stabbing kind.” You mumbled and Peters jaw dropped.

“That’s a bad kind!” He exclaimed.

“But no one ever finds a knife!” You retorted. “The victims always have deep puncture wounds but no knife. And the guards once found bite marks.”

“Oh, great. So he takes a little nibble after puncturing his victims.” Peter clasped his hands together on his lap. “Can’t wait to meet him. Should I bake him some cornbread as a gift?”

“That’d be nice.” You ignored his sarcasm and answered honestly.

“I was being sarcastic.” Peter snapped and got out of his chair.

“Good for you!” You said back. “No one investigated the bite marks even though they didn’t match Cleatus’s dental records. Not to mention, his MO has completely changed since getting into prison. He used to go after blonde women in their 40’s-

“Karen’s.” Peter cut in.

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And now he goes after men who are in for non violent crimes with no previous records. Something weird is going and no one is investigating it. That’s why I need to get in there and see what’s up but I need your help to do that. You owe me since you got me thinking about how much I want cornbread.”

Peter leaned on his hand and stared at you, trying to decipher his next move. You folded your arms and stared back, trying to look serious.

“People are dying, Peter.” You said softly, making him sigh.

“I also want cornbread.” He said quietly as he kept his gaze down.

“Peter, I will bake you all the cornbread you can eat until you’re too heavy to swing from your webs if you help me.” You told him as you sat back on his lap. Peter squeezed your hip gently and pursed his lips.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Your ass is bigger than Captain America’s.” You started up again with the compliments, making a smile tug at Peters lips. 

“I’m in.”

“Yay! Thank you so much.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “When I win the Pulitzer Prize for my work you’ll be the first one I thank.”

“All right, all right.” Peter chuckled softly as he rubbed your back. “What’s the first step of the plan?”

“You have your suit, so it’s only fair I get a disguise of my own.” You began.

“Does that mean...”

“Yep.” You smiled. “Road trip to Goodwill.”

“You treat me so well.” Peter beamed.

~

A day later, you stood outside Queensboro Correctional facility in a makeshift guard next to Peter in his Spiderman suit.

“This is it?” Peter asked as he looked at the building. It’s height alone made him feel small, and the fact he was the reason a few of those inmates were in there didn’t make him feel any better.

“This is it.” You confirmed as you adjusted your tie.

“How do we get in?” Peter looked to you.

“The computer room is the only one with a window that opens since you need a key to get in. It locks automatically so you have to stay there while I do my part of the plan. Once my name is on the list, we can meet back at the computer room.”

“And then we get cornbread?” Peter asked.

“And then we get cornbread.” You nodded.

“Awesome. You ready?”

“Ready.” You secured yourself to Peters side but stopped him before he could swing away. “Oh wait. Hang on.” You took out your phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Who are you calling?” Peter wondered as you held your phone to your ear.

“Remember that thing we talked about? Awesome. Yeah, you can do it now.” You said into the phone as you looked to the sky. Right as Peter looked up in the same direction, a hot blue lightning rod struck the power lines, sending a wave of sparks to rain down. The lights inside the prison flickered for a moment before coming back on.

“You got Thor involved?” Peter asked in shock.

“I needed him to knock out the security cameras so we didn’t get caught.” You shrugged. “Unless, of course, you wanted to join Cleatus in there.”

“Just grab on.” Peter huffed and wrapped his arm around your waist. He shot a web towards the fifth floor and swung you up there with ease. He stuck to the side of the building as he opened the window, pushing you inside before going in himself.

“You didn’t have to roll me in like I’m a bowling ball.” You grumbled as you dusted yourself off.

“You’re just mad because I always beat you at Wii bowling.” Peter shrugged as he brushed some dust off your shoulder.

“Okay, but which one of us cried because they lost at Wii tennis last week?” You asked as you peered out the window in the door for any guards.

“Me, but I wasn’t crying because I lost.” Peter insisted.

“Sure you weren't.” You quipped as you fixed your uniform.

“You hit me in the face with your controller!” Peter whispered harshly, not wanting to alert anyone to his presence.

“The past can hurt us, but we have to chose to run from it or learn from it.” You said causally as you continued to look out the window.

“Do not quote Lion King right now, I swear to God.” Peter grumbled as he took a seat at one of the computers.

“You’re not being very Hakuna matata right now.” You said quietly and Peter glared at you, piercing you through his mask.

“I just feel like you’re being a little too slimy and not enough satisfying.” You added and he balled his hands into a fist.

“We are in a correctional facility right now and unless you’d like to write your next exposition from a cell in a women’s prison, I suggest you get on with your part of the plan.” Peter said with superficial calmness.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll go find a guard.” You hung your head in shame and left the room. You tried to blend in as you walked through the halls, smiling tightly at any guards you passed. Coming behind a corner, you found a single guard by an open window and took the next step of the plan. You ducked behind the wall and held your fingers against the intercom in your ear.

“Eagle 1, do you copy? Eagle 1, over.” You whispered.

“Who’s Eagle 1? Don’t even tell me you got Sam in on the plan.” Peters voice filled your ear.

“You’re Eagle 1!” You whispered abrasively. “We can’t have a heist without code names.”

“I’m thinking of a lot of code names I’d like you call you right now.” Peter mumbled.

“Are you in position?” You asked him.

“Yes, I am in position.” Peter confirmed as he stuck to the side of the building.

“I found a guard.” You told him. “I’m on the west side of the fifth floor. Do you see me?”

“I see you.” Peter responded.

“Okay. Do your thing.”

You watched Peter swing back and forth between the buildings outside of the window where you were positioned. When the guard didn’t look up, you had to step in.

“Wow! Is that Spider-Man?” You asked dramatically as you came around the corner. The guard barely glanced up at the window and looked at you.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“That’s so cool. He’s like a celebrity.” You gushed.

“Yeah.” He said again.

“Boy, wouldn’t it be awesome to get a picture with him? You’d be the coolest guy ever if you could get a picture.” You forced a laugh, beginning to panic when the guard wasn’t responding the way you hoped.

“Eh.” He shrugged unenthusiastically.

“Why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll take your picture? I’m sure Spiderman wouldn’t mind.” You looked at Peter and gave him a thumbs up, which he reciprocated.

“Meh.” He said and began to walk away, making your heart race with fear.

“Okay, um, wait!” You called after him, still needing the code from him.

“What?” He turned around, growing frustrated with you. Your eyes darted across his face before landing on his name tag.

“Sebastian.” You faked a smile. “I really need to get onto one of the computers but I left my phone as home. Do you think you could tell me the passcode?”

Sebastian cocked his head to the side and looked at you sideways for a moment, making you shift uncomfortably. You were sure you were caught just from his look.

“Where’s your name tag?” He questioned. You looked down at where your name tag should be and gulped. The uniform was pretty easy to make out of miscellaneous items from Goodwill, but you’d forgotten about a name tag.

“An inmate…swallowed it.” You lied, hoping he would somehow believe you with your pithy excuse.

“Which inmate?” Sebastian asked, making you suck in a breath. You raked your brain for the most generic name you could think of.

“Josh?” It came out as more of question as a bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. To your surprise, Sebastians face softened and he let out a laugh.

“Damn. That is so Josh.” He chuckled. “The code is 877-393-4448. If you talk to Sheila at the front desk, she can get you another name tag. This is the ninth one Josh has swallowed.”

You gave Sebastian a gentle smile, surprised he was so eager to help you.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely. Sebastian nodded and returned the smile.

“And between you and me, Captain America is way cooler.” He said behind his hand, like it was a secret.

“Totally.” You laughed before he walked away.

“I heard that.” Peter grumbled into your intercom.

“I was just playing along to keep my cover.” You defended yourself as you wrote the code down in your notes.

“Eagle 1, the recipe has been downloaded. I repeat, the recipe had been downloaded.” You whispered so only Peter could hear.

“What recipe?”

“The code!” You almost yelled. “I got the code, you ninny. Are you back in the computer room?”

“I just got in.” He told you.

“Okay. I’m texting you the code. Tell me when you get it.”

“I got it.” He confirmed.

“Go to inmate information.” You walked him through the steps.

“Yep.”

“Find inmate 24601.” You said, Cleatus’s number.

“Getting scared at how much you know about the prison computer system.” Peter laughed nervously as he did what you asked.

“Go to visitors.” You ignored his comment.

“Okay.”

“And put my full name.” You instructed. Your heart raced as you waited for him to complete the most important part of the plan.

“You’re on.” Peter told you, making you sigh in relief.

“Yes! I love you.” You cheered. “You’re the best best friend in the world.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Peter said quietly, still reeling from you saying you loved him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You gushed as you walked back towards the computer room. You were flooded with excitement and appreciation for Peter that was pouring out of you.

“And Thor, apparently.” He commented as he got out of the computer chair.

“Shut up.” You teased. “All we need to do now is get out of here without being seen. Think you can do that?”

“You’re talking to Spiderman, baby.” Peter quipped. “I can do anything.”

“Except put the toilet seat down after using it, apparently.” You shrugged, biting your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh as you passed a guard.

“I told you I was sorry for that.”

“Do you know what it’s like to fall into a toilet, Peter?” You asked him. “My knees hit my shoulders.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.” He insisted.

“I could’ve drowned.” You snapped as you came around a corner. Your eyes widened in shock as Peter, still in his suit, met you in the hallway.

“Could you really, though?” He sassed as he approached you. Your throat went dry at the sight of him and you struggled to find the words to say.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered as you pulled him back around the corner.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? We broke in. You know, like a crime.” Peter said casually, making you groan loudly.

“Do not rehash John Mulaney jokes right now.” You demanded. “Why are you here? You left the computer room?”

“You said we were gonna meet up.” He said, beginning to see how panicked you were.

“Yes! Inside the computer room! So we can escape out the window.” You had to keep yourself from yelling so you frantically paced back and forth. There was no explanation for why or how Spider-Man was inside the prison and all it would take was a quick search of your name to reveal you didn’t actually work there.

“All right, so we’ll just go back in there.” Peter said calmly, trying to address the situation.

“We can’t just go back in there. It locks automatically.” You told him. “That’s why you were supposed to wait in there to let me in.”

“Oh.” Peter said meekly.

“Yeah. Oh.” You poked him angrily.

“What do we do now?” He asked, his panic levels rising to match your own. You opened your mouth to speak until the sound of keys jingling caught your attention.

“Wait, someone’s coming. We can’t get caught.” You gripped his shoulders and looked at him in fear.

“What’s the big deal? You have your guard costume on. Plus, everyone love the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter tried to calm you down but it only made you worse.

“Unless you want to become the friendly cell block inmate, we need to hide.” You whispered as you looked around. You spotted a janitors closet down the hall and tugged Peter towards it. “Get in here.”

You scrambled inside the closet, not realizing how cramped it would be with two people and a prisons worth of cleaning supplies. Your back was pressed against shelves and the front of you was pressed against Peter, someone he wasn’t complaining about. You rested your hands on his chest and looked through the slits in the door vent as Sebastian walked by the closet.

“He looks mean.” Peter gulped. “He looks like a biter.”

“Don’t judge him.” You whispered. “He was actually very nice to me.”

“Why are you getting friendly with the correctional officers?” Peter looked down at you, feeling a familiar sense of jealously bubble in his tummy.

“Why are you so doo doo at following directions?” You shot back.

“Your adjectives never fail to blow my mind.” Peter shook his head as he slipped his mask off.

“yOuR aDjeCtiVes nEVer fAil”, you mimicked his voice as you moved your hand like a puppet, “yeah okay School House Rock.”

“Keep it coming with the obscure references.” Peter leaned closer to taunt you. “Keep it coming please.”

You continued to berate Peter until his attention snapped towards the door and he put a gloved hand over your mouth.

“Wait, shhh!” He silenced you as he squinted through the vents in the door.

“Ew. When was the last time you washed your hands? We’re in a prison! You touched the doorknobs.” You grimaced as your took his hand off your mouth.

“You don’t like my doorknob hands? You don’t like my grimy doorknobs hands?” Peter asked as he rubbed his hands all over your face while you gagged.

“Might I remind you our personal freedoms are at stake? Do you want to go to jail?” You asked as you held his hands tightly in place to keep them off of you. Peter looked down guilty when he remembered where you were and put his hands down.

“I’ll be quiet.” He said sheepishly. You both stood in silence as another guard walked by, the only sounds coming from your heartbeats. Being this close to you was one thing, but Peters heightened senses was giving him gateway to a whole other experience. He could literally smell your fear, as well as your strawberry shampoo.

“I cannot believe we’re hiding in a supply closet.” He laughed a little to distract himself. “What’s next, we’re forced to share a bed?”

“I know. Or like, my mom can’t pay the bills so she sells me to your family.” You added, laughing along with him until you heard footsteps. “Oh, shh.”

You pressed yourself even closer to Peter as a group of guards walked past, trying to breathe as quietly as possible so they didn’t hear you. Peters has tightened with you this close, placing his hand on the small of your back to keep you in place. Your ear was flush against his heartbeat and you could hear it beating like a drum as you clung to him for safety.

“This is ridiculous. I am never going along with one of your plans again. They always put us in the most uncomfortable positions.” Peter grumbled, trying to act like having you this close wasn’t the greatest thing to happen to him.

“No they don’t.” You scoffed and continued to look out the vents for guards.

“Remember your fantastic movie night plan when you convinced me to watch 365 Days? How did that turn out, huh?” He reminded you making your whole face go white as you remembered that movie.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You avoided his eyes as your cheeks flamed.

“Exactly.” Peter argued. “We couldn’t even look at each other. We were too frozen from shock to turn it off.”

“Every time I hear the word “boat” I get flashbacks.” You shuddered.

“Okay let’s not talk about the boat scene when we’re this close.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself calm.

All of him.

“Why?” You asked curiously, not understanding what was going through Peters mind.

“I’m gonna shish kebab you, that’s why.” Peter said with embarrassment, suddenly wishing he had left the mask on to keep you from seeing how flushed he was. The wheels turned in your brain and a sheepish smile came on your face as you realized what he was worried about. You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it when a janitor and a guard stopped outside your closet.

“Kassidy again? What now?” The janitor asked with a sigh. You listened closely as you clung to Peter. He could barely focus on the conversation as your heartbeat fell into rhythm with him.

“Another stabbing.” The guard said. “If this guy gets one more shot, he’s getting moved to max.”

“All right. I’ll grab a mop.” The janitor said, making you and Peter look at each other in a panic.

“Shit.” You whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Either you’re shish kebab-ing me from the back or the mop he’s looking for is right behind me.” You explained. Peter peered behind you and saw the handle of a mop leaning against the shelves and felt his heart race.

“Oh God. I can’t go to prison! I’m too soft and wholesome.” Peter began to freak out, feeling his forehead drip with sweat.

“Yeah, I hear that defense works really well in court.” You said sarcastically.

“Do not sass me, woman! This is your fault!” He exclaimed and you knew he was right. It was your fault.

“Let’s not play the blame game.” You said timidly. “And calling me “woman” like that is demeaning.”

“I know. Sorry women.” Peter said sincerely as he looked up. You looked up too but saw nothing but a water stain.

“Who are you apologizing to?” You asked.

“Captain Marvel.” He said sheepishly.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t get caught.” You whined quietly as you anxiously clutched Peters arms. Peter cleared his throat as another wave of your shampoo was scent his way.

“On the one hand, we could explain to them what we’re doing here and hope they have a sense of humor and sympathy for college students.” Peter chuckled shortly. “On the other hand, you smell like strawberries.”

“Wait, shh.” You stepped even closer to him when the janitor came closer to the closet door.

“Come here.” Peter said as he turned you around. He wrapped his arm firmly around your shoulders and held you flushed against himself as the janitor opened the door. You both held your breath and you pressed your back as close to Peters chest as you possibly could as the janitor grabbed the mop you were previously leaning against and left the closet. You waited a few seconds before sighing in relief, staying in Peters arms as you relaxed.

“I cannot believe that worked.” You breathed, still scared to talk too loudly in case he came back.

“I know. My friend Drax taught me how to do it. If you stand perfectly still, you become invisible to the human eye.” Peter spoke in a hushed tone as he panted.

“Wow.” You swallowed, your mouth having gone dry from fear.

“I know.” Peter nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. You had finally collected yourself when you felt something pressed against your leg.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I leaning on another mop?”

More silence filled the closet as that something continued to press against you.

“I wish I could say yes.” Peter said after a minute. You hung your head and tried to keep your laughter to yourself.

“Oh my God.” You sputtered. “Peter!”

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “I have no control over him.”

“Him?!” You craned your neck to look at him in shock.

“If you must know, I call him Samuel L. Jackson.” Peter said sheepishly.

“Why?” You looked at him over your shoulder and he looked down in shame.

“Because he’s in everything.” Peter admitted, making you look up at the ceiling and count to ten in your head.

“You belong here.” You nodded. “You belong in prison.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter exclaimed. “Don’t get mad at me. It’ll only make it worse.”

“Everything I’m learning about you right now is against my will.” You grimaced.

“Wait, Karen isn’t picking up any heat signatures near us.” Peter said as he slipped his mask back on.

“Now he changes the subject.” You muttered to yourself.

“The coast is clear. We gotta go.” Peter scooped you up and opened the closet door. “And I’m not waiting for your little slow ass.”

“This is not how I imagined my Saturday.” You commented as Peter carried you back to the computer room as fast as he could.

“That makes three of us.” Peter said as he rounded the corner.

“Three?”

“Can’t forget about Samuel.” He gulped, knowing you’d get mad at him for what he said. You shook your head as he set you down in front of the the computer room door.

“We can’t go out this way. The door is locked, remember?” You put your hands on your hips and looked at him.

“Maybe, but it won’t be unlocked when we use this key I stole from the janitor.” Peter said as he smugly held up a key. “Even has a cute little label on it that says ‘computer room.’ How convenient.”

A smile lit up your face as you took the key from him, wasting no time in unlocking the door and pulled him inside. Once you were hidden from view, you pulled him into a long hug.

“I’m glad you came along.” You murmured in his ear. Peter smiled as he hugged you back, nuzzling into your hair. “Lets go.”

Two hours later, you were back in Peters apartment in your regular clothes. Peter could hear you talking on the phone after you stepped out take a call. After all the romantic moments, he really didn’t want to go back to being just friends.

Peter snapped out of his trance when you came back from his balcony, a giddy smile on your face.

“I just got off the phone with Queensboro.” You beamed. “I have a 2 pm appointment tomorrow with Cleatus.”

You punctuated your sentence by breaking out in a happy dance, grabbing Peters hand and twirling yourself with it.

“So our little plan worked.” He chuckled as you moved back and forth, dancing to music that wasn’t there.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” You said as you took your head off his shoulder to look at him fondly. “Love you.”

“Ew. Whatever.” Peter pretended to gag to distract from his blush.

“You know”, you smiled coyly at Peter, “I’m gonna be pretty hungry after my interview tomorrow. All that criminal investigating is sure to work up an appetite.”

“I’m sure it will.” He responded, not knowing where you were going with that statement. You rested your head back on his shoulder as you continued to sway.

“Maybe you can take me on that date you’ve been dying to ask me on.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @maybemona @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort   @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr  @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines  @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop  @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258​ @maybemona​

[snarkwrites]

six sexy words | lip gallagher ; wondering what your kiss feels like.

Notes:

Oh hello, hi. Guess whose inspiration has finally come back from the war? A while back, I was linked this really neat prompt list by a dear friend of mine and it.. Sparked a few things. So... I guess this is me, starting a new one shots collection?

All of these come from my own mind and I don't take requests for one shots / prompts, btw.

Prompts:

taken from either [ here ] or [ here ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

wondering what your kiss tastes like, be careful what you ask for and a swirling tongue and nibbling teeth were the ones I used / hinted at here.

Fandom / Character:

Shameless | Lip Gallagher x OFC.

Warnings:

Uhh.. Given that it's been a few minutes since I wrote any actual decent smut content (and that's not me being hard on myself, that's me being totally honest, lmaooo) I'm choosing to start this off a little bit tamer.. Dipping my toes in here. Kiddos can stay for now because as spicy as this gets is a heated makeout?

Making out. Kissing. Swapping spit. Thas all, folks.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn is the only one currently on my Shameless tag list, so...

** if you want to be tagged in my Shameless stuff, lmk!!**

Other Stuff:

[ about my writing | tag list doc - if you want to be tagged, that is. | fandoms I write for]

“ Are you even listenin to me, doll?” Lip’s voice cut through yet another daydream and I muttered a quiet,dazed response as I glanced up at him. He snickered and then with a smirk, he asked me to repeat what he’d just explained to me.

My mouth opened and closed and the more I tried to focus and remember what he’d been telling me about the equation, the more I struggled to remember. My face burned hot and I tensed a little, huffing out “When will we ever even use this?” in my own defense.

“Svetlana asked me to tutor you. To catch you up.” Lip explained patiently. He gazed at me and I could feel myself slipping out into la la land all over again, imagining what would happen if I just leaned in a little… Maybe grabbed the front of that blue thermal shirt and pulled his mouth against mine. The contrast of his rough mouth against the softness of mine. The taste of cigarettes and soda. My fingers dragging through his hair.

Just the vivid scenario my mind created had me biting my lip. Lost in his eyes and in my daydreams all over again. I shook my head when he snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“Yes?” I asked, a brow raised.

“You’re a million miles away today, Sveta. What’s up?”

I gulped.

Every part of me wanted to tell him exactly what was going on in my head, but there were more than a few things stopping me. For one, there was the fact that my older sister Svetlana would most likely be disappointed. I didn’t want to disappoint her. For another, I was quite sure that I was nothing more than a novelty to Lip. An outsider with a funny accent. A friend, maybe. He has a girlfriend.

,, He has a whore who calls herself his girlfriend and doesn’t treat him the way he deserves.” the thought was enough to have me wrinkling my nose in disgust. Anything involving Karen Jackson tended to do that to me, if we’re being completely honest.

Lip must have noticed the look of disgust. He chuckled and shut the book firmly. Then he rose from the sofa in the Gallagher’s living room and held out his hand to me.

I eyed his hand and gradually, found my gaze drifting back up. Settling on his face. The amused look in his eyes.

“C’mon. Your stomach’s growled at least twice. And I saw ya give Mandy your lunch money earlier, Sveta. We ain’t got much.. Maybe if you get somethin to eat in ya, you’ll pay attention better...” Lip smirked at me as he suggested it.

After finally managing to tear my eyes away from the high definition baby blue gaze I was currently drowning in, I reached out, taking hold of his hand. Letting him pull me up. When he did so, I wound up smashing against him lightly. Our eyes locked again and I licked my lips as my gaze wandered down, settling on his. “Maybe food will help me concentrate.” I agreed quietly.

“Let’s hope so, huh? You got that test tomorrow, right? Yeah, Mr. Ventura’s a dick, so if you don’t pass it’s gonna make it three times as hard to catch up.” Lip mused as he stepped back a little and turned, wandering into the kitchen. I pouted to myself at the broken physical contact and followed him into the room, leaning in the doorway.

Watching him as he fixed two huge sandwiches and then helped himself to a beer and asked me if I wanted anything.

,, to kiss you.” i thought to myself, but I shoved the silly thought out and stepped into the room fully. Slinking over to the counter and picking up the sandwich he’d made for me, taking a big bite. Groaning as the flavors exploded in my mouth, wiping the back of my hand at my mouth because I just knew that I had mustard on my lips.

Lip was the one staring at me now.

Intently.

I lowered my hand and after swallowing the bite I’d taken, I tilted my head slightly. “What? Is something wrong?”

I hate the sound of my own voice, my Russian accent so thick that it definitely stands out.

Lip leaned in and down a little, raising a hand. Taking the edge of his long sleeve top to wipe at the corner of my mouth. “You uh.. Mustard. You had mustard on your mouth...” he muttered quietly, his gaze lingering on my lips.

I licked my lips and swallowed hard. “Is it gone?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s gone.” Lip answered quietly, his words trailing off as his mouth inched just a little closer to mine. His hand moved to my hair, smoothing my bangs back out of my eyes and then lingering on the side of my face. He gulped. Took a long and deep breath.

“Now you’re the one whose mind is wandering.” I frowned, confused.

What Lip chose to respond with caught me totally off guard. Not nearly as off guard as what came after that, but it left me wide eyed in shock.

“Just wonderin’ what would happen if I kissed you right now… How it’d feel.” Lip mumbled quietly right as he closed the distance between our faces and his mouth met the corner of mine clumsily.

I wasn’t so shocked that I froze.

Instead, I raised a hand, resting it across the back of his neck as I molded my body against his and used my grip to pull his mouth back against mine, muttering softly in response, “If you want to do something, Philip… Do it. Life is too short to wonder.”

Lip’s hands wandered down, settling on my ass as he lifted me and sat me on the countertop, moving to step between my legs. His mouth crashed against mine deeper, the taste of beer and cigarettes and the sandwich he’d been eating filling my mouth. The scent of his body wash filling my nose and sending a warm shiver through my body. His tongue parted my lips and I dug my fingertips into his neck as I worked to keep up with the frenzied pace of it as it clashed with mine, swirling.

I nipped and tugged at his bottom lip and he gave a quiet groan, scooping me forward on the counter so that I was totally pressed against him. A whimper rose up from my throat, escaping my mouth and lingering in the air between us as the kiss broke and we pulled apart to breathe.

Lip wiped at his mouth, taking a few shaky breaths as he stared at me, unblinking. In a thoughtful daze.

“Well?” I questioned, leaning against him just a little. Awkwardly. Ready to move the second he indicated that he’d made a mistake. I fully expected that to be what happened next. When it wasn’t, I was the one staring at him in a daze this time.

Lip was already leaning back in, going for the kill as he gave a goofy smirk. “Something I wouldn’t mind doin again.” he muttered right as his mouth crashed into mine and my lips parted in anticipation...

[mobbu-min]

Can you do a one shot with Reigen? Where the reader and reigen are already dating and she sees him in the girls uniform. He tries to play it off as if he doesn’t know them but they see right through him. Please and Thank you!

A/N: Absolutely! I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy💖

Paring: Reigen x gn!reader

Genre: pure fluff

Who do you think you’re fooling?

You had been on your jolly way after your frustrating visit to the grocery store. After encounting what the kids call a 'Karen', you were rightfully in a bad mood. That woman would not stop pestering you about the amount.of ramen you were buying. Saying it was unbecoming to eat all that junk, like this wasn't for you in the first place! Not only that but she had the audacity to complain and say rude remarks to the cashier.

"What an absolute bitch." You muttered sourly under your breath. Fixing the heavy bag on your aching shoulder, you groan "Reigen Arataka, I'm expecting the best message ever when I get back to the building."

Just as you were gonna cross the street, you heard people around you whisper.

"Did you see that man dressed in a school girl's uniform?"

"Yeah, he was dragging a poor girl with him."

"What a creep."

"I hope they get the girl help."

"If anything, I hope they get rid of the creep."

There was a certain feeling you got whenever you felt like your boyfriend was doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Currently that feeling was sending warning signals throughout your brain. And this seems exactly like something he would do.

Scratch that! This IS something he would do!

'Oh my spirits. I should have asked him why he was buying those uniforms!" You inwardly groaned in regret. Turning the elderly ladies you asked politely, "Um excuse me, by any chance did you see where they wander off to?"

"Huh? Sure! There were heading to Saint Highso Girls' Academy.” She said pointing to the direction of the school. She then asked, "Are you gonna go get that girl out of there?"

"That's the plan."

"Then we'll be rooting for you!"

You thanked the ladies for their kindness and quickly took your leave. Following her directions, you thought to yourself 'Reigen Arataka this is the last time you're doing an exorcism alone.'

It wasn't long until you encountered the two. Jogging over to them you were about to call out for Shigeo, when you saw them pushing him inside of the gates. A pang of guilt for not getting here sooner hit you.

Sighing you watched the two security guards question your boyfriend. Confidence oozed off him as he talked with the two men. You stifle a laugh that began to bubble at your throat at his snobby display.

Reigen was always one to do outrageous things for the sake of his business. And to be honest this might be one of the funniest to date.

 The uniform fit him perfectly and the red lipstick brought out his grey eyes. The questionable wig would have some people turning heads. Some goes for the god awful high pitched snobby voice. But with Reigen’s confidence, he pulls it off surprisingly well, his little hair twirling and sashay could probably fool anyone. Reigen could pass off as a teenage girl, a really old teenage girl.

There was only one problem…

“You can’t fool anyone with those legs!” The guard exclaimed, pointing to Reigen’s very hair legs.

That comment sent you over the edge. Loud laughter erupted from your throat. Tears began to form at the ends of your eyes. The stress from today left your body making you feel like a teenager again.

Reigen, however, felt his soul leave his body at the sight of his partner. 'Oh no.'

"Jeez, Rei! You never cease to amaze me! Hehe!" You giggle walking over to him. Grinning you patted his back softly.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Reigen asked, his school girl persona voice on. You could see Reigen’s composed demeanor crack at the sight of you.

"Rei, hunny, do play dumb." You pouted.

"Sorry! I have no idea who you are!" Reigen taunted. He put his hands on his hips and turned away from you. His skirt shifting with his movements, giving everyone a nice look at his thighs.

Chuckling, you shook your head, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I think I know the ‘Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century’ more than you would think."

Reigen couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips. Shaking his head, he held up his hands in defeat, "Ok, you got me!"

You were about to speak when an awkward cough caught yours and Reigen’s attention. The same two security guards from before stood awkwardly waiting for your attention.

“Do you know him?” One of the guards asked you, gesturing to Reigen.

“I do.” You responded. Bowing, you quickly uttered an apology, “I’m so sorry for his actions. You see he’s mentally unstable and is quick to forget who he is. He had a very traumatic childhood.”

You could hear Reigen’s annoyed grumble from the back. Smiling sweetly, you asked, “Is it alright if I can take him home? I promise this won’t happen again.”

The guard in front of you sighed and scratched the back of his head. Looking at his partner they both exchanged nods. “I don’t see why not. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

You thanked him and quickly grabbed Reigen by his hand. Walking away from the school, you both sat on a nearby bench. Silence settles itself between you both. By now the sun was already setting, casting a pink glow across Seasoning City.

“We’re going to wait for Mob to finish this job and I expect you to give him the earnings.” You said breaking the silence. Reigen watched you stare off into the distance, a small grown graced itself on your lips. Reigen couldn’t help but be a bit worried that you were mad at him. Though his worry cleared up after you turned to him suddenly a teasing grin replacing your frown. “And don’t worry I’m not mad. In fact I'm impressed.”

“Yeah?” Reigen asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder. Sharing the same grin as you. “How did you know it was even me?”

“Oh, you know. The unshaved legs and voice gave it away.” Reigen's grin faltered at your statement. Laughing, you continued, “Oh and the bill I got from the company that makes these uniforms definitely helped.”

Reigen watched you avert your eyes and fiddle with your fingers. Flustered, you stuttered out, “Besides, I know you enough that something like this would definitely cross your mind sooner or later. Honestly, I really admire your dedication to your job.”

 Reigen coughed into his hands and avoided your gaze. His face was as red as the lipstick he currently wore. Reigen's heart felt like it was going to burst out of chest any moment now. Your gaze and words sent shivers down his spine. Truly, you had him wrapped around your finger.

“J-jeez, you sure do know your way with words.” Reigen said. His face slowly reverting back to its normal shade.

“Ah, well not as good as you, Mr. Conman.” You teased, leaning back onto the bench while kicking your legs up. “I don’t think I could ever be as suave as you, Rei.”

“Well, I guess you do have a point. I do happen to be the Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century.” Reigen gloated.

Deadpanning, you thought ‘So much for being humble.’

The sound of young voices caught your attention. Turning your gaze to the gate of the school, you watch Mob exit alongside two girls. Smiling at their interaction, you beckoned Reigen to follow. Before you two could go to Mob, you turned to him grinning.

“First, you’re going to hold this.” Handing him the bag of groceries, you rubbed your shoulders. “That thing is way too heavy. By the way you owe me for all that ramen.”

“I can always give you a ~special massage~ when we get home.” Reigen suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

Softly punching his shoulders, you retorted, “Yeah right! Just buy me and Mob some good ramen.”  Reigen laughed at your answer. Walking next to him, you leaned over to him and whispered into his ear, “But that massage is always welcomed~.”

Rushing towards Mob, you called out his name and told him that Reigen was going to get you both ramen. All while Reigen stood red faced and sweaty. Once again his heart threatens to jump out of chest at your display of affection. It wasn’t rare, but it certainly never fails to turn him into a blushing mess.

Reigen quickly snapped out of his flustered state when he heard your cheerful voice calling out to him. Smiling at his favorite two people interact. His gaze softening at the wide smile that stretched across your face

“I sure am lucky.” He whispered to himself.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Micah Bell - Partners in Crime and in Love Pt.1

YES i know there’s 58 requests sitting in my inbox for re8 HOWEVER red dead is my comfort game and i needed to write this verbal mess down. I’ve been thinking of writing a micah fic for weeks now and i finally did it bc as much as i love re8 red dead is my fav and always will be. this is so self indulgent i swear.

for anyone that actually reads this the reader is pretty gn but does lean towards fem this time and i’ll be doing a part 2 for sure bc i love the rat man.

part 2 is now here

—————————————————————

Today was finally the day. The day for the big bank job that Dutch insisted was the right move for the gang. This was despite numerous doubts from Hosea and various other camp members that robbing a bank in broad daylight in the state’s largest city was a risk the gang couldn’t afford to make right now.

The whole morning there had been a sour feeling in your gut, a tiny voice shouting in the back of your mind that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like you to get nervous on a job, in fact you recently robbed the Valentine bank with Bill on his job. Originally you weren’t interested in going, happy to let Karen go on her own with the guys but Bill insisted you go as you were one of the best gunslingers the gang had.

Robbing and killing came naturally to you and being outlawed in six states had never bothered you during your time as an outlaw. That’s why it was almost impossible for you to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach that was slowly building.

Making your way over to Micah, you see him sitting on a wooden crate cleaning his guns for the inevitable shootout that comes with bank jobs. Taking a seat next to him, Micah doesn’t need to ask you how you are; he can practically see how restless and agitated you look.

That’s the thing about your relationship with Micah, you understood each other (especially in public) and didn’t need grand public displays of affection to know exactly what the other needed in that moment.

The camp mostly stayed clear of your relationship, I mean you were probably two of the camp’s biggest troublemakers and risk takers when it came to planning jobs and robbing folk. Both of you had a shot quicker than lightening and could practically shoot your way out of any situation you found yourselves in. But regardless of how ruthless anyone thought you two were, you always had each other’s backs and wouldn’t stop to think about saving the other.

One night after a successful train job Dutch decided to hold a camp celebration. It was a mostly quiet night for you, having not decided to party with your companions despite Sean, Charles and Javier all offering for you to join in. Instead you decided to spend the mostly quiet night with Micah sharing a bottle of whiskey and splitting your share of the earnings. After each job you always had a bet with Micah over who could shoot the highest number of lawman. It was a bet the two of you had with each other just to cause more mischief and it always brought a smile to your face when Micah would lose and sulk about it for the rest of the afternoon

At one point during the night Bill strolled over to you while Micah went to get another bottle of whiskey. He was nice and polite despite the smell of beer coming from his breath, maybe even a little flirtatious and all was well until he asked the question ‘Why is you with a rat like him when you could be with someone as charming as me?’. Bill ended up with a face full of dirt and a broken nose, not to mention a killer hangover.

So yeah, the gang tended to leave you and Micah alone…

Micah’s knee lightly brushing against your own brings your thoughts back to reality. He’s stopped cleaning his guns and is looking at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile, the one that’s only reserved for you.

Despite being a hardened outlaw that has known nothing but chaos and the open road for most of your life. The gang has observed from afar your softer sides, whether it be the time you both fell asleep next to each other by the campfire or getting shit scared when the other has been shot and the rest of the night is spent with soft kisses and bandage wrapping.

Micah holsters his revolver and gently takes your hand in his.

“Sweetheart we’re gonna be fine, ain’t nothing gonna go wrong, now common let’s go get dressed for such a special occasion.”

~

Everyone is just starting to get into their fancy attire for the job when you and Micah are already packing your saddles and getting ready. You’re wearing matching white suits with a red shirt only yours is tailored to show off your figure a lot more and your plunge top and corset doesn’t leave much to the imagination but hey, if you’re gonna go out it’s gonna be in style.

As Micah finishes tightening up Baylock’s saddle you lean forward and hold his wrist in your hand. Your thumb gently brushes the soft skin there, trying to hide the nerves that have been slowly eating away at you all day.

“I don’t like this Micah, somethings gonna go wrong I can feel it…”

Micah’s never been great with emotions but you’ve known him long enough to know how he comforts you. The arm that’s caught in your grasp turns and brings you forward into a hug, his chin resting on your head as you hold him tightly against you.

“Ain’t nothin gonna happen to us, just think of it as another bank job.”

You nod and hold him closer, a rare event for such a public place where anyone could walk by but neither of you really cared at that moment. You press your face into his shoulder, trying to shake off your uneasiness.

“You better not die on me now Bell, you still owe me that new holster for beating you in five finger fillet.”

~

Fuck did the bank job go wrong. Horribly wrong. From the moment you got off your horses and stepped foot in that bank it all turned to hell.

Bullets where flying everywhere, there were civilians screaming in terror trying not to get caught in the crossfire, glass was being shattered by dynamite and Dutch was trying to formulate a plan while in shock of losing his dear Hosea.

A bullet whizzed past your head and you took out another Pinkerton. It was chaos. Every time you managed to bring down the line of Pinkertons another carriage full of them would arrive with the Saint Denis Police.

You couldn’t see Micah anywhere, but each time you tried to look for him your attention was dragged back to the action in front of you and the numerous Pinkertons shooting at you.

Arthur had snuck onto the roof at some point and some of the other members where making their way towards the rooftop as well. You were about to make a bolt towards Dutch and Javier on the ladder when Charles stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Go that way, we’re the diversion! Karen and Sadie are a waiting near the alleyway of the tavern, we’ll meet you back at camp in a few hours, GO!”

Charles pushes you down the alley way and climbs up the ladder to catch up to the others. You would’ve protested but your body is running on adrenaline so you didn’t think as you snuck your way out of safety.

~

Micah was furious that Charles had sent you off on your own to find your way back, if it wasn’t for the fact that the five of them where hiding from the law in a rundown city apartment he probably would have argued with him for hours.

But deep down he knew it was the right thing to do. He knew that you’d be 100 times safer away from this chaos then if you were here with him, even if you could handle yourself.

For hours they sat in that little room, Dutch formulating a plan on how to get out of here while Micah tried not to worry about whether you made it home safe. Now he understood that sick feeling of worry in your stomach, he only ever got it when he worried about you.

By nightfall Dutch had somewhat of a plan to escape via the docks, sneak out onto a ship that would take them somewhere and it hit Micah in that moment that it would be some time before he saw you again…

The guards where everywhere, the entire city on high alert after the bank and Charles ended up running so everyone could make it onto a boat. As Dutch attempted to negotiate with the captain for a cabin, Micah lit a cigarette from his blazer pocket, trying to take his first deep breath of the night.

“We were fools for thinking we could pull off the bank…”

Arthur rests against the crates, fatigue clear in his eyes but willing himself to stay awake. Micah however didn’t want to sit and talk about what could have happened and what actually did, he had a headache already and certainly didn’t need a lecture from Arthur for another reckless decision he helped create.

“Whatever you say Morgan.”

Sighing defeatedly, Micah flicks his cigarette bud over the side and into the water below, making his way to go sit on the other side of the crates where he can think.

~

Back at camp you pace around the halls of Shady Belle, the floorboards creaking under the weight of your boots.

“Fuck this I’m going to find them-“

Before you make it out the front door however Miss Grimshaw blocks your exits.

“You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. The Pinkertons are everywhere looking for us. Now I know you want your precious Mr. Bell back but you’re just going to have to wait out the next few hours until he returns with the rest.”

You decide to ignore the slight condescending tone of Susan as you see a rider approaching into camp. Your hand is on your holster, everyone who’s left joining you to crowd around the man slowly coming closer. Everyone is relieved to see its Charles, but only slightly. He’s alone and a horrible feeling of fear washes over you.

“Charles… Where is everyone… Where’s Micah?”

[granills]

Careless Whisper {B.H.}

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

3. Lemonades and Unwanted Past

A week went by fast, and Maristela was sitting at her usual spot behind the counter.

Joyce was busy at the storeroom since the inventory on some shelves was getting low. Mars tapped the pen against her blue notebook, the same colour as the hair tie around her wrist. A slight breeze from the desk fan was blowing her wavy hair on that hot day. The strands flew down her back, stopping in a line around her shoulders.

Normally she wouldn't have been so awkward around strangers since she'd communicated with them every day at work when they needed help around the store, but being around Billy caught her off guard, she would feel the soft panic, growing inside her. There was something in him that made her uneasy. She didn't know what to say for the reason that she couldn't know for sure how he would've reacted.

Mars sighed and continued writing down a list of products that were needed to be changed or restocked. Joyce had already finished the first part and Mars was helping her out to finish the list. She already wrote down a couple of products when Billy Hargrove walked inside the store all of a sudden. Mars nearly dropped the pen, she couldn't get used to his sudden appearances.

He reached her and stopped in front of the desk, leaning over it as he gave her a thoughtful look. "Why aren't you at the pool right now?" He asked, the question confusing her.

She went back to writing. The blue notebook was already filled till the last page, only a few lines were left blank. Rose had already asked Mars to go to the Hawkins Community Pool with her as it was one of those hot days outside. But Mars refused as she'd been stuck at work. "I am working."

He thought a bit and shook his head slightly. "No, that won't do. You're coming with me." He stated nonchalant.

"May I help you with something?" She asked, not wanting to continue the awkward discussion. Moreover, she had no intention of going anywhere with him. "Marlboro reds, maybe?"

"I appreciate you remembering my preference. But your friends are there, too." He smirked.

Right when she wanted to answer, Joyce appeared out of the storeroom, as if sensing the perfect time. Not for Mars though. Joyce was about to take another pack of products to the storage when Billy stopped her.

"Mrs. Byers, I wanted to ask if you'd allow Mars to leave her spot right now? It's not like the store has customers at this time." He asked her without hesitation, and she sent Mars a confused look, only meeting Mars's more puzzled look.

Not getting any signs from Mars, and knowing Billy already as he'd shown up earlier at their house looking for his little sister, she nodded. "Uh, okay." She said, sounding tired and not wanting to deal with it, and made her way back to the storage.

Mars closed her notebook and picked her bag. "I need to go home first." She said exiting the store.

"Hop in the car, miss." Billy said putting on his sunglasses. "And lead the way."

She opened the car door and went inside, a sharp smell of his cologne, a white-out of bergamot and pepper, filling her nostrils along with leather and smoke.

Putting her bag on her knees, she rested her hands on the bag.

Before starting the car Billy turned to her, smirking. "I advise you to buckle up."

"Why won't you?" She asked him but did as he'd told so.

In a mere 15 minutes Billy parked his car in her driveway. Driving somewhere with Billy seemed like a disaster to happen, with the radio turned up loud. A couple of neighbours were looking out of their windows to see the mysterious driver that had parked in front of the Crawfords' house.

Mars asked Billy to wait for her and went inside the house while Billy got out of the car and lit up his cigarette leaning against the car door and catching some judgy, some admiring looks of Mars's neighbours.

Mars went up to her room directly not noticing her mom in the kitchen. She didn't have many pairs of swimsuits like Rose, mostly because she attended the pool only two or three times every year. But she had two pairs of bikinis, red high-waisted and thin-stringed with flowers.

Without thinking twice, she grabbed the red checkered bikinis and put them on. She decided to wear a white t-shirt on top of it with black shorts. Red straps of the bikinis on her shoulders matched the white shirt perfectly. Putting on a peach lip balm, Mars decided she was ready and went downstairs.

"Mars? You're home early." She heard her mom's voice from the kitchen.

"Yeah. Joyce let me take a day off today. I'm going to the pool with Rose." Mars leaned over the counter.

"That young man doesn't look like Rose." Mary already noticed the blonde guy with a perfect hairdo.

"Rose is already there and Billy is just taking me there." You shrugged and looked out of the window.

"So, Billy?" Mary smiled at her daughter and as if sensing the moment Billy noticed Mars from the outside and smiled, to which Mars just turned away.

"Yes. A friend." She hurried to the door. "Gotta go. Love you."

She was back in the car in a mere seconds as soon as the driver's side door closed.

Billy flicked the cigarette over his shoulders seeing her. "Red bikinis? Matching my lifeguard outfit."

"What? You work there?" Mars was confused.

"Yep. My shift starts soon." He started the car, glancing at her.

As the car engine sung to the lone roads, Mars relished the roaring winds that twirled in her hair and whistled in her ears.

"Have you always lived here?" Billy asked, the question seeming out of place considering who had just asked it.

"Yes." She nodded, looking out of the window at the kids skateboarding, their figures disappearing among the woods, and turned around. He hummed looking away, and she found herself staring at his side profile. "Why did you move here?"

He seemed to tense up a bit at the question, which Mars couldn't not notice. "My dad and stepmother decided that."

Silence hung in the air, making Mars wonder if it was the right thing to ask.

"Anyway, what was the matter with that girl who went missing? Last year?" Billy asked changing the subject quickly.

"What?" She asked, turning to look at him, surprised by the sudden question. She was glad to change the topic, but only if it was any other question but that.

"The girl? Vanished mysteriously as the paper said." He told her.

She looked down, not knowing what to reply, biting her lower lip in a stressed motion. "Barbara."

She was the one to discover Barb, witnessing a slug-like creature slithering from her mouth and across her face. Having entered the Upside Down, Mars never told anyone what exactly she went through in there. Only Eleven read her mind, seeing her walking past the remains of the Demogorgon's victims, including Barb's corpse.

She regretted going there that night, of course she didn't believe that the other world had existed. Such thing wouldn't have come to her mind. Only it was real, destroying her happy, student life. And her friends were stuck in that, too.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes burning into her skin. The car had stopped and they were at the entrance of the pool, people already gathering there with their rubber rings.

She nodded, no sound leaving her mouth.

The long anticipated swimming pool was filled with people. It was like half of Hawkins gathered there to take a bath in a large bathtub. Billy and Mars parted their ways when Billy turned to the dressing room and Mars turned right and entered the pool. Kids lay out on inflatable mattresses, dived, spun and played tag as the girl in a lifeguard outfit looked on.

Mars stood there for a while until noticing a girl sipping her lemonade in a watermelon swimsuit. Rose. A mix of voices and splashes greeted her ears as she walked confidently towards a sun lounger. A spare one was there next to her, and Mars hurried to take the place.

"Mars?" Rose took off her sunglasses, smiling widely. "Am I dreaming or are you skipping work?"

Getting the towel out of her bag, Mars laid the towel down on the sun lounger. "You were the one to get me here, now I'm here." She took off her clothes standing in her red bikinis and lied down next to Rose. Never forgetting the sunglasses.

"Good thing you're here, 'cause you've been missing some show." Rose smiled sipping the lemonade.

"What do you mean?"

"Look over there." Mars's eyes followed hers, looking at the lifeguard right across from them, who came down from her lifeguard chair.

Mars looked to the side and saw the guy in the outfit matching her bikinis. He'd got rid of hist shirt, his torso glowed in the sun, as he walked towards knowing for sure he looked good. With a well-toned and muscular body.

She slightly shook her head and turned to the side when she noticed her mother's friends, including Mrs. Wheeler. "Is that Karen?" But her question stayed unanswered as she witnessed the dreamy looks they all had when Billy had passed them, greeting them. And commented on Karen's swimsuit?

"They have been oggling the guy for a week now." Rose's face lit up.

"That is creepy. It's like Hopper hitting on us."

"Gross." They looked at each other and said in unison.

"I mean..."

"Rose!" Mars grimaced making Rose giggle.

Billy took the place of the previous lifeguard and had a whistle in his mouth, ready to yell at kids who dared to run on his watch.

She didn't know why she was so transfixed by the fact that he'd had all the attention of ladies at the pool. Surely, he was handsome and girls would whirl around him, but she'd never really thought of him in that way before. Until that moment, at least.

The warm wind messed up her hair as she relished the warmth of the sun and catching soft splashes of water. She opened her eyes, choosing to focus her attention on other people.

In that moment, she noticed how Mrs. Wheeler walked past Billy to dive into the pool. As soon as she was in the water, she went swimming backstroke, making it look even worse.

"Who even swims with a makeup on?" Mars mumbled to herself, furrowing her eyebrows. Mars remembered her father's words when he was teaching her how to swim, it all seemed to happen such a long time ago.

"Why did the blonde keep doing the backstroke? - She just had lunch and didn't want to swim on a full stomach." Dad jokes.

Not thinking longer, Mars put the lemonade that she'd ordered aside and took off her sunglasses. "Want to freshen up?" She asked Rose already anticipating the answer.

"No. I want to get a bit more of a tan."

The water was uncommonly clear and pale blue when Mars entered the pool. The water moved around her hips in swirls, she dived into the water. As a child she always imagined as if she was a mermaid, it was beautiful deep down under the water, like being in a different world.

She surfaced in the pool and went back underwater again, it was then when she noticed Billy's intense gaze on her, his sunglasses in his hands.

Mars dived into the water again and continued swimming under. She loved diving within the sea when she'd visited her aunt in California, and feeling the freedom it gave, transparent and blue, soft and powerful.

Billy couldn't keep his eyes off Mars, noting that she at last hadn't been a bad swimmer. He saw her going underwater and at some point lost her when Mrs. Wheeler had appeared out of nowhere. She asked about the swimming lessons where he had been teaching kids. Mars was still nowhere to be found. He waited. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds.

"Your form is amazing." He heard her saying in the distance. Twenty five seconds.

"Thank you." He said walking away from her, speeding up.

He jumped into the water where supposedly Mars had entered the pool. He swam down and reached the bottom in one breath. Scared that she might've been drowning, he tried to focus.

The particular scenario has never happened to him before. He knew that drowning was quiet, their movements were subtle and among other people splashing it was hard to determine.

He swam back to the surface as his oxygen levels had run out, he immediately thought of how it would've been impossible for Mars to hold her breath that much underwater. He tried to breath and looked around when something particular caught his attention. He rubbed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. Mars just got out of the pool right across from him.

His brain stuttered for a moment, standing there motionless until a kid's ball hit his arm and he'd caught it before getting out of the water. He finally sighed in relief and approached Mars keeping his eyes on her.

"Your breath training is impressive." He spoke making her turn around at the voice.

"You didn't think I was a bad swimmer, right?" She said as if asking rhetorically and passed him making her way to the sun lounger.

"Didn't think so." He said a bit louder for her to hear, as if it wasn't him rushing to the water to rescue her a few moments ago.

[comic-book-jawns]

Third Time’s The Charm

1) Inviting Jamie to sleep over had been questionable.

Not that it was the first time. Just the first time since she’d broken up with Eddie and run away for the summer — well, worked at a sleep-away camp. But she couldn’t deny that Eddie wasn’t the only person she’d been avoiding. Not that she’d cut off contact with Jamie completely. In fact, she’d used all of her weekly calls to talk to her best friend... and written her weekly letters, none of which she’d sent.

2) Breaking into her mother’s wine supply had been ill-advised.

Her mother, who she had yet to see. Not that she’d been expecting a red carpet reception when she’d arrived home earlier today. But maybe... a reception? It’s not like 8 on a Friday night was a unreasonable hour.

Really it had been for the best, though.

Dani no longer had to feel guilty for not speaking to Karen in over two months — since stopping for gas and using a payphone to let her mother know she was almost at camp (“He won’t wait for you, Danielle. And then you’ll be starting senior year without a boyfriend. Is that what you want?”) — and she had the house to herself.

She hadn’t even had to call Jamie to invite her over because Jamie, who’d known her for not even a year yet, had already been waiting on her doorstep when she’d pulled into the driveway. With a bouquet, no less. And that crooked smile that always made Dani’s heart melt. And a tan that Dani had... not anticipated. Which was comical, considering...

“Hydrangeas. Mrs. Harrison said I could have some, so.”

Jamie had spent her summer working around town as a landscaper. (“Glorified waterin’ can, more like.”) And over nine phone calls, it had become very clear that Jamie loved the work, even if she did have to deal with some sexist neighbors who refused to hire her for “a man’s job.”

“Jamie, they’re beautiful...”

3) Kissing Jamie had been where it all went wrong.

It wasn’t the flowers alone that sent her over the edge. Not even the wine, exactly, though it certainly hadn’t helped. A glass and a half in, and her head had felt fuzzy. “Mom would be so ashamed,” she’d thought to herself with a giggle. She’d giggled a lot, actually — which had been especially inappropriate since Jamie’s Blockbuster pick had been Friday The 13th. But Jamie hadn’t seemed to mind. Jamie had teased her with that cheeky little smirk that made Dani feel tingly. Jamie had looked at her more than the TV.

Jamie enjoyed her company for what it was. That’s the realization Dani had come to as the credits rolled, sitting on the couch with her arm around Jamie’s shoulders and Jamie’s head on her right one. So much for not being a lightweight, too... Then again, Jamie had been up since 5:30, and they hadn’t even started the movie until 10.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

Jamie had jerked her head up, looking so meek. Like she’d done something wrong. Like there was no way Dani could’ve liked it. And that’s what had finally broken Dani. That’s when she’d pulled Jamie closer, cupped Jamie’s cheek with her free hand before Jamie could turn away in shame and reassured her in the only way she could think of.

It had done the exact opposite.

Not only had Jamie not kissed her back. She’d yelped in surprise, and then gone speechless when Dani immediately pulled back — just stared at her, wide-eyed and rapidly losing color.

“Jamie...”

I don’t know what to say.

Before she could even apologize, Jamie had practically jumped off the couch, out of her arms, and run to the bathroom. Leaving Dani to slump back against the couch and add another tally to worst things I’ve ever done.

(“Danielle, I love you!”)

At least she wouldn’t have to see Eddie again until school started. The O’Mara’s always went on vacation to Lake Michigan at the end of the summer. The O’Mara’s and her, for a decade.

Not that she regretted her decision. It was the fact that she didn’t, actually, that made her feel guilty. Though she did miss him, of course. He was the closest thing she’d ever had to a brother, which felt kinda twisted to say after dating him for the past three years. But it was the truth. She’d felt more kissing Jamie just now than she’d ever felt kissing Eddie.

And wasn’t that just her luck.

Not that it was Jamie’s fault. If Jamie wasn’t interested, she wasn’t interested. God, Jamie could be straight for all she knew. When she’d asked if Jamie was seeing anyone last year — not in that way, just to get to know her new classmate, her new lockermate — Jamie had been cagey, so Dani hadn’t asked again, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

What if Jamie didn’t even want to be her friend anymore? After all, Jamie had probably assumed she was straight.

Dani heard a click now and sat up, looking over the back of the couch. Jamie closed the bathroom door, and Dani sat back down sideways as Jamie walked back over. But Jamie’s eyes remained glued to the carpet; and when she sat down on the edge of the couch, wringing her hands in her lap, she was several inches farther away than she’d been.

“I’m so sorry, Jamie. It - it won’t happen again. I promise.”

She had to practically choke out the words, but she meant them.

“S’okay.”

Maybe she really had read this all wrong from the start. Mistaken Jamie’s selflessness for affection.

“No, it’s not. You’re - ”

“I’m fine!”

Dani couldn’t help flinching. She knew Jamie had a temper. Everyone at school did. But it had never been directed at her.

“Sorry.” She’d already forgiven her, but Jamie did look genuinely remorseful as she looked at her, finally. “Just, uh...” Jamie cleared her throat — as she often did, even over the phone. “Caught me off-guard, is all.”

Dani wasn’t sure what possessed her not to just leave it there. Or apologize again. But to smirk at Jamie.

“Or was I just bad?”

“No! I...” Jamie gulped, ducking her head. “I don’t think so.”

Dani snorted. Jamie was far sweeter than she cared to give herself credit for.

“Don’t think so?”

She expected Jamie to laugh, to relent, to resume the playful roasting Dani loved. But Jamie didn’t say anything as she looked away, quickly but not quickly enough for Dani to miss the added color blossoming on her cheeks or the way her lips quivered.

“Oh...” Dani couldn’t breathe. “My god. Oh my god!”

“I’m gonna go.”

Jamie’s voice was raspy, barely above a whisper, as she bolted off the couch, and Dani felt worse still.

“No! Wait, I - ” Jamie was running up the basement steps before Dani even got to her feet shakily. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Only to immediately trip.

***

“Fuck!”

First, Jamie had lost her dignity. And now she’d lost her shoes. Or, rather, left them inside. Downstairs. Kicked them off so she could kick her socked feet up on the coffee table. She was trash, but she wasn’t a tool.

Well, that was her answer, wasn’t it? Anyone who might look at her funny on the walk home probably would’ve looked at her funny anyway. And she was already halfway across Dani’s lawn. Fuck shoes.

Except... they were one of her only pairs. And her favorite, tattered as they were. And... Dani liked them.

“Oh, thank god.”

It wasn’t fair, the way her heart still swooped at the sound of Dani’s voice. Breathless, at the moment. She slowly, and only partially reluctantly, turned around to find Dani stepping out onto her front porch, panting... and holding her Black Hi Top All-Stars. There was no point in leaving now, Jamie supposed, as she shoved her hands in her pockets — not until she got her shoes back.

“Thanks.”

She muttered it, not even looking Dani in the eye. But she still said it. She did not, however, reach for the shoes when Dani offered them, waiting for her to set them down on the lawn instead. Maybe Jamie had a shred of dignity left, after all. Or maybe it was just her good old self-preservation kicking in again — eleven months too late. Clearing her throat, she bent down and picked up her shoes. She could make it around the corner at least before putting them on.

“Jamie.”

She could hear it in her voice, but seeing the tears in Dani’s eyes — as she looked up, despite herself — well, it didn’t make it easier to blink back her own.

“S’all good.”

She nodded, trying for a smile. Probably not succeeding.

“I’m the one who should be ashamed.”

Wait, Dani had come all the way out here just to double down? Seriously?

“I - I never would’ve - ”

Jamie felt a sneer curling her lips.

“Kissed me if you’d known?”

“Of course not.”

Well, then.

“See ya at school.”

She didn’t look back as she continued across the lawn, but she couldn’t shut her ears off.

“Jamie?”

Nor could she stop herself from rolling her eyes at Dani’s confused tone. This was how it had been all along, though, wasn’t it? She’d been a good enough distraction from Eddie, but now she wasn’t a good enough experiment. Yet Dani wanted her to stick around anyway. And she was supposed to be grateful.

“Jamie!”

Jamie flung shoes down on the edge of the lawn and spun around as her eyes burned.

“Look, I’m sorry for not advertisin’ the fact that I’ve never snogged anyone! But you came onto me! And you regrettin’ it now is not my problem!”

It should’ve felt good. Would’ve felt good, probably, if not for her starting with her deepest insecurity, throwing a voice crack in the middle and ending in tears. But, all in all...

“I don’t.”

It was so quiet Jamie almost didn’t hear Dani over her own breakdown. But even through blurry eyes, there was no mistaking Dani approaching.

“I don’t regret it.” Jamie sniffled pathetically as Dani took her hands. “I’ve - I’ve wanted to do it... for a long time.”

Even as she felt her heart swoop again, Jamie couldn’t quiet the voice in the back of her head and chuckled harshly.

“And yet you’re ashamed.”

“Because I stole your first kiss!”

Tears were streaming down Dani’s face now. But Jamie, it was like the levy breaking. She’d always been a cryer, much to her chagrin. But not like this. Not when Louise had left. Not in the group homes. Not when she’d finally been shipped off to the States because the system didn’t know what else to do with her and an American businessman had promised to come back from his trip with a child for his lonely wife.

No, she hadn’t cried like this since Mikey had been taken from her.

“I’m sorry.” Dani was holding her. Jamie wasn’t even sure when it had happened. But Dani was stroking her hair, rubbing her back, as she bawled into her shoulder, arms crossed over her own chest, pinned against Dani’s. “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie whimpered but then cleared her throat hard.

“You didn’t.” It still came out garbled, and she coughed. “Didn’t... steal it.”

“Jay.”

(“Hey, Jay... Sorry, Jay-Jamie, are you, umm, doing anything this weekend?”)

“I... wan’ed it... to be you.”

She felt Dani loosen her grip and lifted her head up, sniffling, to find Dani looking at her in... in awe? Feeling heat rise to cheeks, she ducked her head, laughing awkwardly.

“Not that I was savin’ maself or anythin’.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her face, starting to get a hold of herself again. “Never made much of an effort, though. Not, uh... much of a people person, in case ya hadn’t noticed.”

Jamie smiled a little to herself as she heard Dani let out a watery chuckle and rubbed the back of her neck as Dani’s hands ghosted over her hips.

“And I knew bein’ gay n’ all. Wouldn’t have as many options. But I dunno. I just...” Jamie cleared her throat again, looking back up as she went to shove her hands in her pockets but felt Dani take them instead. “Assumed it would happen eventually, ya know?”

Dani nodded, and the gentle yet focused look on her face almost made Jamie burst into tears all over again.

“By the time, I moved here, though... But then I met you.” Dani smiled; and, Christ, even with tear-stained cheeks, she was radiant. “And I - honestly, I figured it was pointless to hope for.”

Jamie’s heart clenched as Dani’s face fell in an instant, and she squeezed Dani’s hands as she tried for a smile again. Felt it working this time.

“But it was hope.”

Slowly, Dani’s smile came back to life, even warmer. Or was it Dani’s cheeks that were getting warmer?

“Can I, umm, can I be your first second kiss... too?”

This was her moment. This was her chance. Why couldn’t she fuckin’ do it?

“Sorry, I - ” Dani’s blush was quite evident now. “Obviously, it’s fine if you don’t - ”

“No, I do!”

To her credit, Dani didn’t laugh at the outburst. She was clearly fighting a smile, though, and Jamie cleared her throat yet again.

“I just, uh... I don’t want to... disappoint ya.”

She couldn’t make it through it without looking down, though that didn’t help much considering Dani was holding her hands.

“Hey.” Dani squeezed them. “Look at me… Jay.”

Unfair pulling out what Jamie was sure would one day be her ‘teacher tone.’ But she chuckled as she complied and found Dani smiling softly.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“So really no pressure, then.”

Dani rolled her eyes, and Jamie’s heart tripped over itself, then pounded as Dani proceed to reach up and tuck a few of her curls behind her ear.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Jamie. The only thing that matters to me... is that it’s you. And that you feel com- ”

Fuck, what was she doing?

“Sorry! I’m sorry.”

Jamie pulled her hands off Dani’s cheeks and ran them through her own hair as she folded in on herself. She didn’t know much. But she was fairly certain kissing Dani was not supposed to involve breaking her nose. There wasn’t any blood on Dani’s face, though. In fact, Dani was... grinning. Beaming, even. And Jamie couldn’t help returning it a little, even as her face burned.

“Told ya I would screw it up.”

Dani raised an eyebrow.

“Do I look disappointed?”

Jamie gulped, blushing even harder. Since when she had become such a simp?

Well, no. That was the thing. She never had been, had she? Because Dani had never once treated her as lesser than. Dani had gone out of her way, in fact, to try and prove to her that she wasn’t — whether it was slipping notes into her locker before an exam or sitting with her in the cafeteria when no one else would, including Eddie, or introducing herself on that very first day, only to get a grunt in reply.

“Ya know what they say, though…” Jamie snapped out of it just in time to watch Dani’s confidence falter. “Third, umm, third time’s - ”

Jamie bobbed her head embarrassingly quickly, embarrassingly hard. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to feel even an ounce of mortification. Only excitement. Well, okay, maybe a little nerves too. Especially as Dani, beaming once more, gripped her wrists and guided hands back to her face.

“Okay, umm, you tend to tilt your head to the left, so...”

She did? How would Dani even know that?

Dani erupted into giggles, and Jamie flushed as she realized she was literally titling her head to the left in contemplation.

“Why do you think I sat on the left side of the couch?”

What?

Dani flushed now as her smile turned sheepish, and Jamie felt the corner of her mouth curve up as her heart fluttered. Dani really had wanted it. All of it.

“Anyway.” Dani swallowed. “Since yours tilts to the left, tilt my head to the left too... Sorry, my left. Your right.”

Fuckin’ hell. Dani wasn’t snickering, though, as she let go of her wrists. She was actually looking at her quite intently, a little south of her eyeline. Jamie felt her mouth go dry.

“And then…”

“Yeah.” Dani swallowed again, as her eyes flicked back up, then smiled ruefully. “Sorry, I - I’ve never really tried to teach this before.”

Before Jamie could make a flirty quip, Dani blanched.

“Oh, god. That sounded really patronizing. I didn’t...”

Jamie leaned in, closing her eyes.

“Can I kiss ya, Dani?”

She couldn’t feel Dani’s nose at all, which she figured was a good sign — though, admittedly, she did feel rather foolish and uncomfortable titling her head almost sideways. Particularly without an answer. But then she felt a hand on her chin, another on the top of her head, tilting her closer to center. Close enough to feel the side of Dani’s nose nuzzle against her own as Dani wrapped her arms around her neck and exhaled.

“Please do.”

And Jamie did.

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Some Dime Novel Fate PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: Anon sent: “Your writing is really good! If you can, once you’re feeling alright, could you write an arthur x reader where the reader comes back from a job badly injured and Arthur flips while Grimshaw takes care of her/them? ♥️” WARNINGS: Gore, injury. NOTE: Hey, long time no write. However, I got an injury that’s going to leave me laying around a bit, so it gave me enough reason to complete this. Thank you for sending this in, anon! I hope I followed it close enough to your liking. I also kept things gender neutral since it kind of turned out that way, plus I wanted to write another one for a gn!reader for a while now. 

“I’m just thinkin’ this job ain’t a good idea, doesn’t sound like it’s thought out.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

“I just gotta bad feeling ‘bout it…”

“You wanna give me a little trust here, Arthur?”

Your knees hit the ground, the pain that ripped through your side causing you to curl in on yourself a little.

It was strange, some parts of you felt numb while others were throbbing with sharp pain. Still, finally, you were where you needed to be. If it was early morning or early evening, you couldn’t really tell, some heavy fog lingering around the path into camp.

You knew you were a sight to see, your clothes stained with dirt and, more concerning, a deep red on the left side of your shirt, drying to your skin where your blood stained fingers touched. That job was terrible, and if you weren’t so exhausted, you might have felt even a little angry about the fact that one of the times you challenged Arthur, he turned out to be right. It had just been some sort of stage, the amount of guards suggested to you not really making you as nervous as you should have been.

Splitting off might have been a mistake, too, considering you had to take matters into your own hands, even when a bullet had ripped into your side and the dead weight of your horse nearly pinned you to the ground. It hadn’t happened too far from camp, thankfully, though the walk back felt like it took forever with your wounds. You had been waiting for the point where your legs gave out, though you were grateful that it wasn’t too far from where you could get help.

With a grunt, you gathered yourself to a stand again, pressing your hand against your injured side as you tried to ignore the world swaying lightly around you. Though, thankfully, you didn’t have to walk too far before you heard a familiar voice.

“Who is that?”

Karen.

“It’s me,” you said, stepping forward as you could see her stepping out from beside a rock. “I’m not...doing too good.”

“Christ…” she replied, lowering her weapon as she stepped toward you, “We was startin’ to get worried. C’mon.”

You accepted her help by pulling your arm over her shoulder, leaning your good side against her own somewhat as you let her help you walk further into camp. The pain was really starting to kick in as a familiar place took the focus away from just moving, each step pulling a sharp pain from the bullet wound. You knew Karen was talking, saying something to you, but it was a little hard to focus.

“Grimshaw! Anybody? Need some help over here,” she called once you could see the tents and wagons.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long before the woman in question seemed to approach you both, much on time as you could feel your body starting to beg you to rest. It was a bad idea, considering your blood stained hand still pressed tightly to your side, dripping into fabric still damp with blood, and most of your weight resting against Karen’s side.

“What the hell happened?”

“I dunno,” Karen replied, helping you find your feet again a bit, “Just came in here, covered in blood.”

“Job went bad…” you started, letting out a heavy breath, “Got shot. It ripped into my side, don’t know if it’s still in there.”

“Well, c’mon,” Grimshaw said, shifting around to your other side. You let out a short yell at the feeling of her pulling your free arm over her shoulder, stretching your side and blossoming a sharp pain. However it seemed like your cries fell on deaf ears in the moment.

“Abigail, we’re going to use your tent,” she continued, seeming to be talking to people around you, but you were focused on keeping your legs moving along with Karen and Susan. “I need somethin’ to treat a gunshot wound and the space and privacy to do it. Oh, and someone please tell Mr. Morgan before he takes off on his own after nothin’.”

The tent offered some small shade from the sun as you were led into it, a small sigh escaping you as you were sat down on the cot in there. It was hard to focus on much, exhaustion ebbing into your bones very quickly now that everything and everybody was familiar to you, much as Susan’s voice was rather stern and urgent. You needed to stay awake for a while longer, if only to make sure she wasn’t working on you while you were passed out and bleeding onto the Marston’s cot.

Maybe if only to see Arthur so you could tell him you should have listened to him.

Thankfully, however, it wasn’t long before Susan was back in the tent in front of you as she worked on removing your shirt enough to get access to the wound. You took in a deep breath, clenching your teeth as she prodded around a moment before she spoke up.

“Well, there’s a wound back here too,” she muttered, “Means nothin’s still in there. I’ll just close them up and hope that’s all you need.”

“...Is Sean okay?” you asked as you reached down a hand to hold the side of your shirt up as Susan worked on getting the sutures ready.

“Oh, that fool is just fine. You’re the only one hurt here.”

That was a bit of a relief at least.

You had split up on the job, hoping to separate and lose those who were pursuing you. However, it seemed like you were the one who got the sharpshooter of the bunch. You could remember the sound and the fire that had ripped into your abdomen at the impact of the bullet, trying to ignore it in favor of continuing to ride on, but the second bullet had your horse falling out from under you.

You hated to think about it--and you didn’t have to.

Fresh pain broke into your thoughts as you felt Grimshaw starting to close up one of the wounds. You let out a low sound, almost a smothered shout held back by your teeth as you tightened your jaw and focused on the tent flaps in front of you. You could feel each one--one, two, three, four…

“This got you any more to the left and this would be beyond any help of mine,” she commented as she finished with the entry wound, “I know you all really do think of me as some doctor, but…”

“Y-You do what you can,” you replied, shifting to turn around so she could start closing up the one on your back.

“Well, least you’re coherent…” she said, making you clench your teeth again at the feeling of the starts of another suture.

“It’s getting hard to be,” you replied--though, the pain was helping in chase off the sleepy feelings but you knew they would be back once she had you bandaged.

“We’re almost done,” she commented, “Though, I would try to hold out a bit so Arthur can see you’re okay. I think he had half the mind to strangle Mr. McGuire in camp when he said you had split up and it had been a couple hours since he’d last seen you…”

“I’m probably going to get some sort of talk too,” you said, trying to keep your voice even as she continued to close your remaining wound, “He’d warned me about the whole thing.”

“Probably should have listened to him…” Susan commented, almost as an aside to herself but it was hard to miss.

You didn’t say anything in reply to that, allowing her to finish up before she was wrapping a bandage around your torso. The treating of it, finally, brought some comfort. It didn’t remove the pain of it, but it was enough to have you relax some as you pulled your shirt back down. Grimshaw got up, muttering something about washing her hands, though it seemed as she was leaving, someone had been walking steadily toward the tent.

Letting out a sigh, you shifted to sit further back on the cot, not wanting to risk laying down at the moment. Your gaze lifted as a familiar face appeared at the tent flaps, the sight of Arthur filling you with a relief you weren’t aware you had been waiting for.

Meant the whole thing was over, or you were out of danger at least.

“Christ…” he muttered, stepping into the tent as you offered him a small grin that didn’t quite touch your eyes. “Scared the hell outta me, darlin’.”

“I know. Grimshaw was pretty quick to send someone to find you before you left on some goose chase…” you replied, gingerly wrapping your arm around your torso somewhat, “Sorry about that.”

“You’re not the one who got away unharmed, runnin’ his way back into camp with his tail between his legs,” Arthur said, shaking his head.

“It’s not Sean’s fault, I was the one who wanted to split up.”

“Then you’re both fools.”

“Yeah, probably,” you replied with a small sigh, fighting back a grimace at the sharp throbbing near your wounds--probably would be bruised to hell in a bit, too. “My horse is gone, too. Nearly got pinned under him and...well, that’s why it took so long to get back here.”

Despite the initial confrontational tone, it was hard to miss the shift in his demeanor as he let out a small sigh through his nose.

“Sorry,” he said, “‘Bout your horse and everythin’ else.”

“...I should have trusted your judgement,” you replied, dropping your gaze somewhat. “Might’ve…”

“I can be wrong,” he stated around a small huff, “Often am. Can’t do nothin’ ‘bout it now, just...you’re alive, that’s all that matters.”

“...Come here,” you said after a moment, gesturing toward yourself lightly with a hand.

You were used to seeing some hesitation from Arthur, and weren’t exactly surprised to see it now. Still, eventually he stepped a little closer toward the cot, holding your hand up somewhat until he caught your meaning as he bent down far enough for you to press a quick kiss to his mouth. It was one you held for a few moments, exhaustion sitting heavily in your actions much as you knew the pain would make for an uncomfortable sleep.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, alright?” you said after you broke away from the kiss, dropping your hand to his shoulder for a moment as he pulled back, “I’ll be more careful.”

Arthur gave a small sound of acceptance from in his chest, stepping back to allow you to try to get comfortable. You weren’t sure if you were staying in the Marston’s tent for the night, but it didn’t seem like anybody was in too much of a rush to get you out.

“Get some rest,” Arthur muttered, the ghost of a grin touching his face, “Knowin’ you, you’re gonna hate bein’ bed ridden tomorrow but ya need it.”

“...Just don’t kill Sean,” you said after a moment, “Tonight, at least. I’m sure he feels plenty guilty about it.”

“No promises.”

[padawanlost]

I thought it was less ‘choosing not to talk about it’ and more ‘the Jedi want him to disconnect from his past and won���t let him talk about it’ or am i misremembering?

It’s both. Anakin’s ‘I don’t want to talk about my past’ behavior is a result of his inability to express himself without being reprimanded and his unwillingness to face his trauma. When he was a kid Anakin was pretty open about his thoughts and feelings. The isolation he experience as an adult was a learned behavior. Anakin was always proud and refused to allow his slave status to be used against him, something he learned from Shmi.  But he wasn’t ashamed of it either. He openly talked about his past with complete strangers when he was a kid.

They sat down to eat Shmi’s dinner a short while after, the storm still howling without, an eerie backdrop of sound against the silence within. Qui-Gon and Padmé occupied the ends of the table, while Anakin, Jar Jar, and Shmi sat at its sides. Anakin, in the way of small boys, began talking about life as a slave, in no way embarrassed to be doing so, thinking of it only as a fact of his life and anxious to share himself with his new friends. Shmi, more protective of her son’s station, was making an effort to help their guests appreciate the severity of their situation. [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace]

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Anakin replied, “Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a hint of resentment in Anakin’s voice. He hadn’t considered that Anakin, because of his experience on Tatooine, might be sensitive to calling anyone Master. Obi-Wan sighed, then said, “Please don’t think it gives me pleasure to admonish you, Padawan. I can only imagine what it was like for you to grow up as a slave, and I —” “Do you ever miss your mother?” Anakin interrupted. The question caught Obi-Wan off guard, but he recovered fast to answer, “No. No, I don’t. I never knew her, not really. I was still an infant when I arrived here, at the Temple.” “Then maybe we can make a deal,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan could tell that the boy was trying to keep his voice from trembling. “You won’t feel sorry for me because I was once a slave, and I won’t feel sorry for you because you don’t miss your mother.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Fear, hatred, anger. . The old trio Anakin fought every day of his life, though he revealed his deepest emotions to only one man: Obi-Wan Kenobi, his master in the Jedi Temple. The Blood Carver stooped slightly on his three-jointed legs. "You smell like a slave," he said softly, for Anakin's ears alone. It was all Anakin could do to keep from throwing off his wings and going for the Blood Carver's long throat. He swal lowed his emotions down into a private cold place and stored them with the other dark things left over from Tatooine. The Blood Carver was on target with his insult, which stiffened Anakin's anger and made it harder to control himself. Both he and his mother, Shmi, had been slaves to the supercilious junk dealer, Watto. When the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn had won him from Watto, they had had to leave Shmi behind. . something Anakin thought about every day of his life. [Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

The Blood Carver was not helping. His irritation at the delay was apparently being channeled into ragging the human boy at his side, and Anakin was soon going to have to put up some sort of defense to show he was not just a stage prop. "I hate the smell of a slave," the Blood Carver said. "I wish you'd stop saying that," Anakin said. The closest thing he had to a weapon was his small welder, pitiful under the circumstances. The Blood Carver outmassed him by many tens of kilos."I refuse to compete with a lower order of being, a slave. It brings disgrace upon my people, and upon we." "What makes you think I'm a slave?" Anakin asked as mildly as he could manage and not appear even more vulnerable. [Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

The Blood Carver had hurt Obi-Wan, threatened Jabitha, called Anakin a slave. For these things there was no possible redemption. [...] "What will you do, slave boy?"  It was the connection Anakin had sought, the link between his anger and his power. Like a switch being thrown, a circuit being connected, he returned full circle to the pit race, to the sting he had felt with the Blood Carver's first insult, with the first unfair and sneaky move that had sent Anakin tumbling off the apron. Then, back farther, to the dingy slave quarters on Tatooine, to the Boonta Eve Podrace and the treachery of the Dug, and to the last sight of Shmi, still in bondage to the disgusting Watto, to all the insults and injuries and shames and night sweats and disgrace piled upon disgrace that he had never asked for, never deserved, and had borne with almost infinite patience.[Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

Obi-Wan could not reassure Anakin that his words were spoken out of haste. He was worried about the effect of this mission on Anakin. If they did engage with Krayn, Anakin's deepest emotions would be tapped. Obi-Wan knew his Padawan had not begun to truly deal with the years of shame and anger he had passed as a slave. Someday he would confront this. Obi-Wan fervently wished that day to be in the future, after Anakin had honed his training. Yet he had the feeling that this was exactly why Mace Windu and Yoda had chosen them. It was not the first time Obi-Wan had suspected the Council of being too harsh. [Jude Watson. Path to Truth]

"The planet's leader, Aga Culpa, has made an agreement with Krayn that its people will remain free in exchange for Krayn's control of the factories," Mazie explained. "There is not much honest work on Nar Shaddaa, and the guards are well paid. So tell me, how do you come to be here? Is this your first experience as a slave?" "I was free when I was captured, but I was raised as a slave on Tatooine," Anakin said. [Jude Watson. Book 01 - Path to Truth]

"Lying again," Deland said to Anakin. "No human can be a Podracer." "One was," Doby said. "A human child. A slave. He won his freedom, and after the race he disappeared. His name was — " "Anakin Skywalker," Anakin supplied. "Pleased to meet you." "Now you're a Jedi?" Doby asked in disbelief. "And you were a slave?" "It's a strange galaxy," Anakin said with a grin. [...] "I'm sorry that your sister is a slave," Anakin said. "Do you know Shmi, my mother? She's a slave, too. Or she was, when I saw her last." [Jude Watson. Dangerous Games]

Unfortunately, over the years Anakin became more private about his feelings.  You can see the difference between his interactions with stranges and with Jedi. He was much more open about his past with people he didn’t know. And that’s not an accident. It was a change even Obi-wan noticed.

When they’d met, Anakin had been a warm-hearted nine-year-old boy with an open nature. He was twelve and a half now, and the years had changed him. He had grown to be a boy who hid his heart. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

Obi-Wan crouched by him. “This isn’t work, Anakin. It’s a hobby. And if you are using it to keep distance between you and your fellow students, it’s not a helpful one.” [...] “They don’t want me,” Anakin said flatly. He walked over and slung the legs of the protocol droid under one arm. “I’m not like them.”  Obi-Wan couldn’t argue. Anakin was unique. There was no question about that. He was an exceptional student, much more in tune with the Force than others his age. He had come late to the Temple. It wasn’t that the other students disliked him, they just didn’t know what to make of him. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

When did it happen? Obi-Wan wondered again. Why did it happen? Was it the loss of his mother, followed so closely by the death of Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan could not replace those people in Anakin’s heart, nor did he wish to. He had hoped that with Jedi training and their own relationship, Anakin would come to find peace. He had not. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

Anakin’s inability to talk about his past was something Obi-wan recognized as ‘damage’.

[...] Obi-Wan stifled a sigh. Oh Anakin. This was about his childhood. Again. About the indelible fingerprints slavery had left on his soul and his psyche. Qui-Gon, did you never once stop to think of that? Did it never occur to you the damage might run too deep? “Anakin—” Anakin flicked him a frustrated look. “I know you think you understand. I know you want to understand. But if you haven’t lived it, Obi-Wan, you can’t. And you never will.” They really shouldn’t be talking. Even keeping their voices low almost to whispering, it was dangerous. But if he shut down the conversation now, if he refused to hear what Anakin had to say, he’d pile damage upon damage. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Anakin was hurt by his past and his inability and unwillingness to openly discuss it was harming him. And, as we can see above, that didn’t happen naturally. It was the result of years of jedi training (and bullying). 

“Thank you, sir,” Anakin said in a quiet voice. Palpatine interlinked the fingers of his hands. “I’m told that you grew up on Tatooine. I visited there, many years ago.” Anakin’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. “I did, sir, but I’m not supposed to talk about that.” Palpatine watched him glance up at Obi-Wan. “And why is that?” “My mother—” “Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped in reprimand. [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]

But Anakin is not aware of that. As a character he can’t be that self-aware. So he rationalizes it as a behavior he chose. It’s much easier for him to admit he can’t talk about something because it might hurt than it’s to admit the tragedy of his life. After 10 years of burying the trauma from slavery from the Jedi in his life, it’s only nature he’d hide it from Ahsoka too.

[clairecrive]

"Insecurities" - Eames x reader (Part 2) [Requested]

I'm sorry for the long wait. I made it super long to make up for it. Anon and @kingarthurscat I hope this is what you had in mind when you made the request or that at least you like it. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog (let me know if you wanna be added)

A/n: Prompts are in bold.

The very reason you had been picked to be a part of the group was your ability to became whoever they needed you to be. It wasn't quite like Eames who could really become that person, it was more like an interpretation of a character. Like an actor would do, only you wouldn't be performing in a movie or a theatre. Usually very shy and stubborn you weren't so keen on putting yourself out there the way they had asked you to. But the need for money and your acting skills collected through the high school years as a way of getting more credits did the trick and with a little convincing on Dom's part, you were one of them.

Tonight was no different, you left your shy and awkward self in your hotel room, ready to be Sandy, a confident outspoken entrepreneur, for the rest of the night. The job was very easy to be honest, even though you usually hated when they used you just for your "womanly weapons" as Dom called them. However, being the only woman on the team, your input was required and there wasn't much you could do.

The plan was very simple: distract the wealthy, sneaky Arabian entrepreneur while Eames took whatever information he needed and then make your exit quickly and smoothly when Eames would give you the signal that it all went according to plan.

Flirting with wealthy men was quite the same every time. If you asked them about their job or a thing they have that makes them proud you could have them talking for hours on end. You would just have to throw a smile or a small laugh at the right time and that would be it. Easy job right? The fact that sometimes the men would be smoking hot it's just a bonus. They were boring but at least they were pretty to look at.

Much to your delight, this night, Azir was not only very handsome but he had a few interesting ideas too. Maybe you had been enjoying yourself too much, really engaged in a conversation with him, that you didn't notice Eames trying to catch your attention at first.

Over the years, you had come up with a complex sign language that would allow you to communicate in tricky situations without making a sound. Just a movement of an eye or a finger and the message or warning had come across. So when you noticed the English lad walking towards you while scrunching his nose, you knew that he needed a diversion.

"What is happening here?" He approached you and Azir that was quite startled by Eames' appearance. Thinking he was going for an angry/jealous boyfriend you played along.

"What are you doing here?" You asked feigning a shocked expression.

"I told you that I had a business meeting tonight, but you failed to mention that you'd also be here flirting with a stranger." He explained getting worked up.

"First of all, this is not a stranger, his name is Azir. Second, I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd have cared."

"In what twisted universe I would not care about my fucking fiancée flirting with a man that's not me?!"

"Wait, what? What are you talking about mate? She doesn't have a ring." Azir chimes in, apparently disturbed by the idea of being accused to flirt with an engaged woman. Nice to see you have morals Azir, not just a pretty face uh.

"Where is your ring Y/N?" Eames inquired staring intently at your naked ring finger

"Funny you should ask, still keeping up with this game I see. It's not endearing anymore, cut it."

"What the hell are you on about?" He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown three heads, glancing towards Azir for support.

"I was so thrilled that after eight years you had finally found the guts to propose to me, that I couldn't wait to share the news with everyone I have ever shared a word with. Also to let them see the beautiful ring you gave me. Imagine my surprise when Karen comes up to me and say: "Do you know that the diamond in your engagement ring is fake?" Of course, I didn't believe her, she had always been jealous of me. But she insisted so to prove her wrong, I stepped on it. Diamonds, real diamonds, are unbreakable. But the one you gave me fell apart like a bread crumble." For added emphasis you turned to Azir, "can you believe it? A fake engagement ring!"

The poor lad had been swapped in this mess and was so lost that if someone had asked him his name right now, he probably couldn't be able to answer right.

"So what if the diamond was fake? My intentions behind the gesture were not."

"Do you even still love me?" You asked scoffing at his words. Noticing three bulky men storming into the hall you were in, you gather your things and without glancing towards both men, you stormed off into a hallway on your right knowing that Eames was hot on your trail. You turn around to see if you were safe but before you could check his hand wraps around your arm and drags you into a dark room to your left. The door closed behind you leaving you standing in the dark catching your breaths.

"Were they still behind us?" You whisper just in case they were close. You couldn't see him in the dark but even if you felt him close to you, when he put his hand on your mouth to shush you it still caught you off guard. Well then, I'll take that as a yes. Even if you couldn't see his face, being this close to him that you could feel his breath on your cheek, made your mind wander and suddenly you were thankful for the dark otherwise your reddening cheeks would sorely stand out and Eames would tease you endlessly.

Turns out that you spoke too soon seeing as, while you were lost in your daydream, he must have drawn out his phone, because a light suddenly shone in the room. It was a janitor closet because at your feet there were cloths and buckets. It was indeed a small space as you've presumed, your chests were touching and if he wasn't taller than you, your noses or worse mouths would too. This realisation certainly didn't help your blushing situation.

"Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?" He asked and really, you knew it was coming.

"Can we get out, please? I think we're safe." You said trying to play it cool. The twinkle in his eyes made his amusement very clear to you, nevertheless he spared you and moved his hand to the door handle. Much to your dismay, it wouldn't budge, even when he tried with more force. Eventually, he had to stop and admit defeat. He turned to you and almost as if you had rehearsed it you exclaim at the same time:

"Well shit."

Groaning you lower yourself to the ground while he wrote something on the phone, probably asking for some help but you know that you'd be here for a while if you had to wait for one of the guys to rescue you. Sensing your discomfort he sat beside you and you knew that he was going to confront you about your weird behaviour. Being observant was part of his job, nothing went past him unnoticed, he was the best in his field for a reason after all.

"So, since we have a lot of time to spare, will you tell me what's wrong darling?" As you predicted he asked softly. Having worked alongside one another for quite some time together with his observant self, made Eames one of the person who knew you best. It wasn't something you were happy about but it was a fact.

"Oh that was Sandy, Eames. Don't need to worry about a fuss over a fake ring." You joked trying to deflect. Classic textbook move and he knew it.

"That was a good stunt out there, not going to lie, but you know I wasn't talking about that. You've been acting weird since we've come out of the room." He insisted. You knew Eames so you were conscious that if you told him to let it go he wouldn't press you but for some reason, you needed to know if he saw you. I mean even if he did, it wasn't a big deal right? No one was perfect and as you were painfully aware of his annoying habits now he knew that you hadn't a perfect body. You could live with that. Conforming to the standard norms of beauty wasn't something you had to do. Besides, nothing was ever going to happen between you. So even if you had a crush on the man and your constant bickering was more subtle flirting, why do you care so much about what he thinks of you? Yes, he probably has been with a lot of breathtaking women but that didn't mean anything. You couldn't compare yourself to other, imaginary in this case, women. It's not a healthy thing to do and besides everyone is beautiful in their own way. You knew that it's just that most of the times you have trouble applying that way of thinking to yourself.

Well then, here goes nothing. This pep talk is pointless if you don't address the elephant in the room. And so gathering all your courage, you did. But wait- how exactly am I going to go about this?

"So, you know that I'm usually very quiet and reserved right?"

"Yes, I know how important your private space is to you. I promised I've not touched anything." He said reminiscing that time when you literally went ballistic when you saw him entering into your room without your permission.

"I know you've learned your lesson don't worry, I wasn't referring to that."

"Then what's the matter?" 

"I'm not saying you did it on purpose but have you, by any chance, stumbled upon a very naked me early today in the bathroom?" I finally let out not meeting his eyes. I think it's a fair question to make, sure the answer won't change the fact that he saw me if he did but at least I'll stop wondering about it. However, Eames was known to be very unpredictable so you hoped that he wouldn't feel offended about it nor that he'd tease you for it. For a little while, he didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you. Knowing him he was probably studying you and thinking about what to say.

"Will you go mad hatter crazy on me if I tell you that I accidentally took a peak? I honestly thought that you were done and telling me that I could enter when you opened the door. However, I didn't do it maliciously or anything. It just happened, I'm sorry." He explained confirming your assumptions. So he did see you. Now what? However stupid it may sound, you believed him when he said that it was an accident. How different could my body from others anyway? Pretending to not be affected by his confession you just shrugged your shoulders muttering a quiet "it's okay". Needless to say, it was not okay. How were you going to look at him now that you knew he's seen you in your most vulnerable state? Ugh, why did you have to be so complexed? Couldn't you be just as easy going as Sandy? Life would surely be easier.

"If it's okay, then why won't you look at me, darling?" He insisted. Gosh, why won't he let this go?

"There's literally no light in here, how do you know if I'm not looking at you?"

"Because I know you and apparently this held a deeper meaning to you than you want me to know. You should know by now though, that I notice everything. Besides, how can we still work together if you refuse to look at me?"

"I can pretend to be a different person then so there's no problem." you mutter jokingly

"There's no need to pretend with me. We're room buddies!" He said making you laugh. He could be so silly sometimes.

"You can always be yourself with me you know. To be honest, you should never be afraid to be you but I know that that's a tough thing to do. However, I thought I was part of the gang now. That you trusted me and all."

"I do trust you, Eames. I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't. And yes you're part of the gang but neither of them has seen me naked you naked."

"And that changes things how?"

"You have seen me in my most vulnerable and truest form. No filter, no pretending no anything. I can't imagine I was a very pleasant view. I'm just ashamed, that's all."

"You shouldn't be. I didn't think you'd be so insecure about yourself, that only proves how good at your job you are, honestly, but if it makes you feel better, I really like what I saw." 

"Yeah sure. Don't need to flatter me to make me feel better. I'm not delusional."

"No, but it seems that you're blind. I thought that my scandalous and obvious flirting was a dead giveaway of me liking you."

"Oh shut up, you flirt with every living thing. It does not make me special." You sassed because it was true. You actually thought he was into Arthur before realizing that he was like that, flirting seemed to be the only way of communication he knew.

"You don't need my validation to consider yourself special. You are no matter what I or any other guy says. Although, you shouldn't really question me. You know I'm always right."

"Could your ego be bigger?"

"Hey, I'm trying to help you here. No need to insult my ego. But it's not the only big thing I have if you know what I mean."

"You know what? I really appreciate your wise words but I think it's best if we wait for whoever you called in silence. Your ego is already sucking up all the air in this cubicle." you said nudging his shoulder letting him know that you were joking. Who would have guessed that he could manage to make your doubts disappear just with a few silly words?

He seemed to have understood because he wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, getting comfortable beside him. The silence between you now wasn't uncomfortable but very welcomed, you knew he wouldn't be quiet for long so you enjoyed it while it lasted, your insecurities long forgotten.

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

Well aint that a b*tch/fish?

starter for @plataneprofessor

(Hi, another mini au! Karen is pirate Sycamore is merman. Begin chaos.)

Tw: blood, violence, kidnapping,

To say everything went wrong was a terrible understatement. It was rare for her to ever be caught off guard, but not out of the question, clearly considering her current predicament. She had been off her ship for the night taking some time to explore the city on her own, look for some trouble admittedly. There weren’t any big scores for her crew in this town. They had simply been stopping in for some resupplies. While her crew loaded the ship she had taken to looking at local markets making a few feats of her sleight of hand to nab things here and there. Unfortunately she was recognized along the way. 

not by town guards, thankfully, but by another crew. One she knew her boss had some beef with. As strong as she was one person could be taken down with enough people thrown at them, fifteen in her case. Though some decent blood was spilled on both sides she did end up taking the loss. 

The entire way to the ship she was struggling. It didn’t matter that she could taste blood seeping in her mouth from where the rope silencing her was cutting into her lip, the fact one rib was likely cracked, or that she was covered in bruises. Snarls of protest along with every kick or punch she could muster was being used all the way to their ship. When below deck she was finally put down. There wasn’t anything gentle about it though as her head hit the hard wood first. A good move on there end as she was in shock long enough to have her wrists shackled. As soon as she felt able she reared up again hands at least free enough to claw the rope on her mouth off. 

“You bastards! When I break out I’m slicing you up the stomach like a fish!!”

She hissed flashing teeth in some barbaric manner with clear animal like ferocity flashing in her gaze. In her enraged state she hardly noticed that just out of range of her shackles was someone else in the cell. Well at least not until it was pointed out. 

“Pipe down lass. You’re not dead, unless the captain changes his mind. Now don’t cause too much trouble or we’ll use you to find out if that thing eats people or not.”

The stocky man chuckled pointing over to the reinforced box by the other set of chains. Water sloshed in it, not much, but enough to say fill a bath. It was about the size of one too, small enough for Karen to see a clear tail flopped over the side. 

[luctisonusx]

Interrogations || Drabble

Clementine Chasseur has been wanting a swing at my boy so I decided to indulge her so uh here’s that drabble i mentioned to one person specifically about her interrogating him and also embarrassing / calling him out.

Perhaps Caleb had been day dreaming just a bit when he was pulled out of his thoughts by the knock on his door. Caleb moved to sit up in his bed, but the knocker didn’t open it. That was strange considering if it was Cindy, she usually didn’t even bother to do that. For a moment, he thought maybe he had imagined it until he heard another knock on his bedroom door, but this time a voice accompanied it.

“Caleb? There’s someone here who wants to speak with you.” Cindy’s annoyingly high tilted voice said and Caleb sighed, climbing off the bed and leaving his notebook that he’d been doodling in there. When he opened the door he was met by two women. One was, of course, Cindy. Her hair in that same old ugly bob do that screened “Brown Karen”. She stood in that sort of way that was expecting and Caleb had to stop himself from glaring at her.

“Caleb!” She greeted him as he peaked his head out from behind the door, not allowing the two to see into his -- unfortunately -- dirty room. “This is Clementine Chasseur. She’s from the fish and wild life department?” She said it like a question as she looked at the short woman. She appeared barely 5 feet tall, but there was something intimidating about her.

“Yes. That’s me. Hi, Caleb! I just have a few questions for you. If you don’t mind. Maybe we could chat a bit in private in your room?” She flashed her badge at him and then tucked it back. He eyed her and then Cindy, who seemed to disapprove of his reluctance. He sighed, opening the door wide enough that Clementine could come in before closing it behind him -- right in Cindy’s face. Clementine took this time to look around, noted how dirty the other’s room was before noticing the notebook. She tilted her head to look at it, noticing the page he’d been writing on was in fact covered in hearts.

“Someone’s a bit infatuated?” She questioned and Caleb rushed over, closing it, tossing the notebook onto the desk. He gave her a guarded look. She reminded him too much of Christina. She wanted something out of him, obviously, but in that threatening sort of way. He could smell it on her as well as the light hint of booze.

“I doubt my love life is what you came to question me about.” Caleb said then, jaw tense for a moment.

“No.” She sighed, “Perhaps not.” She took a seat on the edge of his bed then, looking back around and seeing all the posters on the wall.

“It’s come to my attention that you were one of the last people to see Lisa Willoughby alive.” Clementine said then and it made the hair on Caleb’s arms stand on end. How did she know about that?

“And where’d you hear that from?” Caleb questioned.

“I can’t divulge that information, Caleb. If you would just answer the question?” The woman raised her brow at him and he refused to look at her. 

“Christina told you that didn’t she?” He could smell it now, her light stench. She’d probably said that to deflect the attention off herself. 

“Again I can’t divulge-”

“She’s a liar and a rumor starter did you know that? She’s the reason everyone thinks Peter did it and he didn’t.” Caleb spoke through anger, probably saying a bit too much but he couldn’t back track now.

“So you know Peter Rumancek as well.” It wasn’t a question so he didn’t answer it, “Christina says he’s a werewolf. Do you know anything about this?” Caleb finally turned to look at her. His expression didn’t give out that he knew because he was in disbelief that she would straight up ask him that.

“Christina is a batshit crazy girl caught up in her own little world and she should leave me and my friends alone. Are we done here?” Caleb spat and Clementine examined him with those light eyes for a moment longer than Caleb was comfortable with.

“Is Peter the person you’re drawing hearts for?” Clementine asked then, as if she was trying to get a rise out of him and with the full moon so unbearably close, it was hard not to give her what she wanted.

“No. Like I said, it’s not any of your business.”

“Tell me what you were doing with Lisa Willoughby.” She brought it back around and he could see through her tactics. Wanting to get him angry enough that he would say something he shouldn’t. He had to remind himself that that was all she was doing.

“I didn’t know her and I certainly wasn’t the last to see her alive. Her killer has the sick satisfaction of that.” And yet now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her and the wolf and the wolf and him and those teeth sinking deep into his waist, it took all of his energy not to growl underneath his breath.

“Thank you for your time, Caleb.” Clementine stood up then, handing him a card from her back pocket, “If you have anything else to say feel free to call me.” She begun to walk out of his room, opening the door but then peaking her head in again just as she was about to close it.

“And Caleb?” He looked up at her, “Good luck with whatever boy has got you drawing hearts like that.” She let the door close behind her then and he heard Cindy greet her and lead her out. He stood frozen in place though at her last words. Was it really that obvious?

“Sheeit” He mumbled. He would have to tell Peter about this whenever he saw him next.

[akajb84]

Snapshots

Snapshots is a collection of random moments as Claire, Owen and Maisie become a family. These one shots all take place Post Fallen Kingdom and exist as part of my Full Circle (read on ffn) universe. You don’t need to have read FC to read these, although it’s definitely complementary.

---------

So this snapshot is the result of an anonymous ask here on Tumblr for one where Owen has a motorcycle accident between JW and FK. I figured out a way to fit it into this universe, and I’m actually quite happy with how it worked out. If you’re the one that asked, please let me know what you think!

#40 — Bulletproof

— Fall 2017 —

When her phone rang, Claire didn't even think twice before answering. Nor did she bother to check the caller ID. These days, there were only about three people who semi-regularly called her: her mom, Karen, and her new friend and Dinosaur Protection Group co-founder, Zia.

"Hello," she answered distractedly, still focused more on her laptop and the spreadsheet it was displaying with the latest figures for the DPG. The figures that were continuing to show that they were going to be stuck in the red for a long time coming, unless something big changed.

"Is he okay?" The question was asked in such a frantic rush that it caught Claire off-guard, and she wasn't even sure if she had heard it properly.

"What?"

"Is Owen okay?" Karen asked again, and this time Claire caught the words.

"Um, I assume so?" her answer came out more as a question, as she was still mostly confused.

Claire and Owen had broken up, or parted ways, or, well, something, a couple of months earlier. After that final fight, when she'd yelled at him that he might as well go live in his van, and he'd stormed off in a huff. To be honest, she'd actually expected him to come back later. For them both to apologize to each other, and make up, and for her to finally get a chance to tell him about what she and Zia had been talking about.

But he hadn't. Not that first night, or the next, or even a week later. In fact, she hadn't seen him in person since that day. And she'd only had one stilted and awkward conversation via texts, about a month ago when she'd received a letter in the mail for him and she'd had to ask what to do with it.

"Are you really still not talking?" Karen asked with a groan. "You guys should be better than this stupid silent treatment stuff."

"We're not not talking," Claire protested. "We're just…"

"Not talking?"

Continue reading on ao3 or ffn