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shadowynnn · 5 years ago

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star-crossed | part three |

star wars

pairing: kylo ren / ben solo x reader x general armitage hux

soulmate au

part one | part two

~~~

It wasn’t long after your conversation with Ben that the door to your cell opened once more. Your heart had quickly begun to speed up, afraid that he might have returned. You still hadn’t completely recovered from your earlier conversation and dried tears still clung to your cheeks at the inability to wipe them away. There was no way you could handle a second round; the first had been bad enough.

But it wasn’t him.

Instead, three stormtroopers marched inside the small room causing a different form of fear to arise in you.

What was going on? What were they going to do to you?

Were they here to kill you?

“Huh! So it was true,” the stormtrooper closest to you muttered when his blaster brushed against the black marking on your thigh. “Look here.”

“Don’t touch me!” You recoiled from the cold metal of the gun, doing your best to hide the letters the stormtroopers had been gawking at and the blush which began to tint your cheeks.

The stormtrooper only laughed at your reaction causing your blush to deepen as you glared back at him. He was lucky you were chained up, otherwise, you would have been quick to make sure he never laughed again.

“Come one, let’s just get this over with.” One of the stormtroopers hanging back spoke up and you could feel his nervous energy as he looked between you and the others. “I don’t know what they intend to do with her, but I don’t want to get mixed up in any of it.”

The other stormtrooper muttered his agreement, and while the one who had mocked you earlier seemed annoyed by his comrades nerves, he reluctantly agreed. This didn’t stop him from complaining about them, and you, under his breath, however.

“Don’t think you can try anything, though,” he said getting over his sour mood as he moved to release your restraints. “We have orders to shoot if you try anything stupid.” Two blasters were quickly aimed your way to prove his statement.

“What’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

You struggled to understand the situation and their previous statements when the restraints holding you were finally released, but you were met with only silence. Instead of answering any of your questions, you were grabbed on each arm and marched out of the cell before you could rub any feeling back into your wrists.

You stumbled as they dragged you along, feet and legs still wobbly from lack of usage over the past hours. Every time you lost your footing, the blasters trained against your sides were pushed harder into your sides and your body was given a sharp tug to keep you going.

“If you’re going to kill me, just tell me.”

But this statement, just like your earlier questions were met with silence as you were dragged through the First Order base. You felt your nerves grow with each passing step, especially with their refusal to let you know if you were about to die or not. You wanted to believe that you weren’t being marched to your death, but it was hard to think otherwise. Where else would they be taking you? You were still a prisoner, after all. Not even the names on your skin would allow you to be otherwise.

You had thought your soulmate status would keep you fairly safe, at least from death, but despite the high-ranking of each man, they weren’t the ones in charge. Perhaps he, much like your old master, saw the ties as a sign of weakness and wanted to put it to an end before anything could become of it. Perhaps he wanted to make a show out of it. Show the galaxy what happened to those who opposed him, no matter whose names might be etched on their skin.

And despite telling yourself to keep calm, there was no way to know for sure if they were leading you to your death yet, you still felt your heart speed up and your breathing catch as your anxious thoughts started to overwhelm you. You always knew you faced potential death when you went out on each mission, but being so close to it now, and without Poe, terrified you. You didn’t want to die, especially not alone.

But just when you thought your nerves would get the best of you, the soldiers stopped at a doorway in an unknown hallway. A quick code was inputted into the panel next to it before it hissed open and you were dragged inside.

You weren’t sure what you had actually been expecting to see on the other side, another dark cell or an execution chamber, maybe, but it wasn’t even close to either. It appeared to be someone’s living quarters, but who’s, you didn’t have a clue.

There was a small living and dining area upon first entering. A couch and chair faced a window to the space outside and a table for three set against the opposing wall. In the far corner was a bed that looked so comforting to your aching and tired body that you wished for nothing more than to sink inside it and sleep the rest of the day away.

You were so surprised by the contents of the room around you, you had no time to ask who’s it might be, or why you had been brought here, before all three stormtroopers left without a word or explanation, the door sliding shut behind them.

You stood there awkwardly at first, unsure what to do or think. Despite being brought here against your will, you still felt like an intruder in someone’s personal space. You knew this room had to belong to one of two people and you weren’t keen on being here when either one of them got back.

You needed to get out of here.

Backing up to the door you had just entered, you began to inspect the panel to its left. It needed either a handprint or a code, and you didn’t have a code, so you lifted your hand up to the screen to scan hoping for some luck on this awful, awful day.

It didn’t work.

The screen only beeped angrily and flashed red at you causing you to frown. When it did the same thing the second and third time, you huffed in defeat. You didn’t know why you had gotten your hopes up to begin with, the likelihood of the door actually opening was very close to zero. But you didn’t give up there. It was only after prying at the door itself for a few minutes and having no more luck than the panel, you eventually gave the door a good, hard kick before sinking to the floor in defeat. You may have no longer been in chains, but you were still very much a prisoner.

Your gaze once again roamed over the room before you, taking in the sleek style of the furniture and the immaculate state of it all. There was no personalization, no telltale sign that anyone slept, let alone lived in this room making you once again wonder who’s it might be.

Standing up from your spot on the floor, you cautiously walked further inside, fingers gliding over the plush leather of the sofa as you took it all in. There were two other doors to your right, near the entrance, and you made your way over curious to see what laid on the other side.

The first door led to a closet, empty but for a few scattered articles of clothing all ranging in the dark, neutral tones befitting the First Order. You thought the lack of clothes was strange, who had this few of clothes, and made to close the door in case someone entered the room and found you snooping in their closet when an article in the back caught your eye. It was a dress, black and fairly simple, but a dress nonetheless.

You were almost certain you were in one of your soulmate’s rooms, where else would they have taken you if not there, but why would a dress be in the closet? As amusing as the thought was, you doubted either man was much of a cross-dresser and the dress appeared much too small for either man to fit in.

This led to only two other conclusions in your mind. The first, which left a bad pit in your stomach despite you trying your best to fight it, was that one of them had a lover. It would only make sense to keep some of her clothes in the closet if she was frequently staying the night. The second was that this was supposed to be your room and these were supposed to be your clothes.

And as preposterous as the second conclusion sounded, you terribly wished it was the correct assumption and not the first one. It wasn’t as if you cared they had lovers, you had no intention of ever forming a relationship with either because they were your enemies, goddammit, but your body reacted differently to the thought of your soulmates being with someone else.

Before you could even realize what you were doing, you found yourself shuffling through the rest of the clothing items to see if they were all women’s articles or not. You told yourself you didn’t care, but that didn’t stop the wave of relief rushing over your body when you realized the few articles of clothing in the closet would have all belonged to a woman. The cuts were all too slimming and feminine to be otherwise.

Realizing how you had acted to the situation and hating every second of it, you quickly closed the door and tried your best to throw the whole situation behind you.

Damn soulmarks.

You made your way to the other doorway to find a bathroom that put yours back home to shame. A shower stood in the back corner along with a bathtub in the other. It wasn’t either of these which drew your attention, however, but your reflection in the mirror.

You didn’t want to say you looked horrible, but your appearance definitely matched the way this day had gone so far. Which had been completely awful, so yeah, you didn’t look too great.

Cuts and bruises scattered across your skin and the majority of your hair had long since fallen out of the braid you had pulled it in before the mission had begun. Dark circles laid underneath your eyes from exhaustion and your cheeks were still stained from tears.

What you needed was a long shower and an even longer nap.

Your eyes left your reflection, taking note of the shower you had briefly noticed earlier. It wouldn’t hurt to use it, would it? While you weren’t certain, you did think this room was meant to be yours, until you managed to escape that is. But if you weren’t supposed to use it, what’s the worst that could happen to you. You were already their prisoner and if you weren’t dead yet, you didn’t figure they meant to kill you anytime soon.

But if they didn’t plan on killing you, what did they want from you? They already knew that BB-8 had the map which meant they probably also drew any other information relating to the Resistance from Poe as well. You had nothing more that they couldn’t have gotten from him.

So, what did they want from you? Why were you still alive?

They had to want something. It wasn’t like they gave all their prisoners fancy rooms to stay in while they were being held captured, let alone kept them alive after they had served their use, so what was it?

Was it really because you were the soulmate to two of the highest-ranking officials here? But if so, what were they playing at?

Did they expect you to play housewife?

The thought made you curl your lips in disgust. If that was the case then they would be in for a rude awakening. Just because you had their name on your skin didn’t mean you owed them anything, including your body, thoughts, and time.

You quickly shook the thoughts out of your mind before they could take you to a place you really rather not go. You were only going to be here until you found a way to escape. And once that happened, you were never going to set foot anywhere near either of them ever again. The universe had given you a bad luck of the draw with your soulmates, but you had accepted that fate a long time ago. Meeting them now in these circumstances didn’t wouldn’t, change anything.

Shaking the thoughts away, you forced yourself to stop worrying over the matter. Worrying over it wasn’t helping anything right now. What would though, was a nice long shower.

Stepping back outside of the bathroom, you walked over to the closet, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to borrow until you were able to wash your current outfit. There wasn’t much to choose from, but there was a plain, black shirt that looked long enough to do until your shorts were dry enough to wear again.

You took your time in the shower, enjoying the way the hot water fell across your skin and washed away the dirt and filth covering your body. You stayed underneath the water even after you and the clothes you had been wearing were clean. This was the best thing to happen to you since the day had begun and you were going to enjoy it to the best of your abilities.

You shoved the thoughts of your captivity away, closing your eyes and pretending you were back on D’Qar. You and Poe had succeeded in your mission. You had gotten the piece of the map and escaped before the First Order had ever appeared. You had never been captured, had never had to see Ben again. General Armitage Hux had no idea who you were. You were just enjoying a nice, hot shower after a successful mission.

You didn’t realize you had started crying until you felt the sobs racking your body. Collapsing to the floor of the shower, your body curled up in a ball as you let yourself cry, releasing all the pent up emotions you had kept under lock and key for so long. You cried for the mess you found yourself in and for Poe and whatever might have befallen him, but you also cried for that night, five years ago, and all the pain and heartbreak it had brought with it.

Which made you begin to wonder. Had Ben spoken the truth?

Would he have given everything up for you if you had only admitted what you had both known? All you had to have done was tell the truth, admit the bond between you and perhaps you could have saved him, saved both of you.

So was he right? Was this all your fault?

The thought only made your body shake harder and a new wave of fresh tears streaming down your face because you knew the answer.

He was right. The only person to blame for what had happened was you. You were the cause of it all. All the torment, the heartbreak, the brokenness. It was all because of you. Because you had been too scared to tell the truth, to believe that the two of you could have been together.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, curled up on the floor of the shower. Your tears had long since run out, but the hollow brokenness inside you remained. It was only the strong desire to sleep which gave you the strength to pull yourself up and out of the water’s warm embrace.

You dried off quickly, pulling the black shirt you had found over your body. It fit well enough, just a tad big as the hem hung just below your bottom. You couldn’t seem to find a hairbrush, so you did your best to comb through your hair with your fingers before pulling it into another braid.

You made sure your old clothes were hanging up to dry before you made your way out of the bathroom, so consumed with your burning want to sleep that you were oblivious to the fact that someone else was in your room until you ran right into them.

The impact wasn’t hard enough to knock you down, but you still stumbled and only found your balance when a pair of hands grabbed your forearms to settle you. You didn’t want to see who it might have been, but you found yourself looking up and finding a pair of very blue eyes staring down at you.

The embarrassment you felt upon first running into someone was nothing to what you felt now upon realizing who you had actually run into and how very little clothing you were wearing.

But even then, the embarrassment was all at the back of your mind as you found yourself face-to-face with Armitage Hux for the first time.

You knew you needed to move, to say something, but you only found yourself capable of taking in the man before you. You had seen him on screens before, and then just briefly from a distance upon your first few moments on the base, but this, this was different. You were finally close enough to see how blue his eyes really were, the slope of his nose, and that there were faint freckles scattered across his face.

It was the first time you found yourself acknowledging that the man standing before you was attractive.

It took more time than you would have liked, but you found yourself breaking out of the daze, snapping your arms back to yourself as you took a few hurried steps back nearly falling once more when you backed against the couch. Your arms crossed against your chest in self-defense, but upon feeling your shirt ride up at the action and remembering how little clothing you were wearing, you quickly dropped them in front of you hoping he wouldn’t have noticed. You fought the urge to tug on the black fabric, knowing the action would only bring attention to your lack of pants.

It didn’t matter. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to leave your face, trail down your body and see your legs causing another blush to break out across your cheeks.

You had really thought nothing else could happen to make this day worse, but you found yourself sorely mistaken. The universe clearly wasn’t done tormenting you yet.

“Why-Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

#star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #armitage hux #kylo ren x reader #armitage hux x reader #soulmate #au #reader #the force awakens #romance

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clawcommanderabsinthe · 4 years ago

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A new Day A new Gun

A new Merc emerges

"GODDAMMIT HOW DID THEY PIN US DOWN???"

"I DON'T KNOW BUT IF WE DON'T FIND A WAY OUT OF HERE WE'LL BE DEAD BEFORE SUNSET"

Pete and Absinthe were caught in a storm of bullets, mortar shells and every other type of weaponry the Imperial Guard had at their disposal. It was supposed to be a standard job. Assassinate the local corrupt govenor and restore Imperial Rule.

The information was false.

Instead of finding some demoralized Soldiers they were confronted with a whole Guardsmen army. Now theybwere sitting in a small trench, thinking of how they can solve this situation.

The advancing Baneblade made the whole situation worse. Neither one of them was equipped to destroy one of these beasts. "Well. Guess that's our end then. We can't do shit against that", Pete said while sitting down and getting out his flask. "You should go. Wraith slip away and flee to Baal. You still have someone to go home to"

Absinthe sat down beside Pete. "Yeah I know i should. But hey. Fight together die together. I'll stay here and die with Pride. Hand me the flask."

And so they shared a drink. Ready to face their end when a explosion ripped the Baneblade apart. The explosion confusing the Guard as well as the two Mercs.

"Was that one of your Mines?"

"No. I didn't bring any"

More confusion came up when the IGs trenches suddenly started to burst into flame. Fire consuming the soldiers and making those that were able to escape the flames easy pickings for Abs sniper rifle.

After the Guard had been delt with through the aid of mysterious Means, the two examined the Baneblade. "strange. I've seen this kind of destruction before... But thats impossible."

Absinthe looked at Pete. If the man was troubled it wasn't a good sign. "What was it?"

Pete turned around and aimed his heavy Bolter at a figure that had approached without them realizing. "Necrons. Heavy Gauss Cannon. Known to be extremely useful against Tanks. This one extremely modified from the looks of it."

The situation was tense until the newcomer began to speak. "Put that down. Nosferatu Absinthe and Pete the Red Sun. Correct? I've searched for you all over the Galaxy"

Absinthe pulled her laspistol. Her bolt pistol was still destroyed after that Lacrymole business some time ago. "Bountyhunter? Deathmark?"

"Mercenary. Your new Teammate to be exact"

The mercs stared at her dumbfounded. Not only was a Necrontyr here to help them but wanted to join their group? Both were more than confused so Pete had to ask the important question. "Why do you want to join us?"

"Because I am sick of being a Guard of some lazy Phaeron who doesn't even try to move us forward. I'll rather do what I love. Fighting for my payment"

Pete and Absinthe looked at each other as the Necrontyr woman moved past them. "So what now? Do you two just wanna stand there? Or do we want to kill that Govenor?"

"And your name is?", came the response from Absinthe.

"Nehehyt. We'll worry about a Codename later. Now come"

"Didn't know you gave the orders, newcomer! Wait up!"

And thus it came to pass that now 3 Mercenaries were fighting side-by-side.

#claw commander absinthe #pete the iron warrior #nehehyt the huntress

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years ago

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Okay, but. Seeing as AH put out a new Thief Simulator video?

A different Thief Simulator AU with Thief Ryan, his little brother Trevor and this Jeremy kid they pick up somewhere along the way?

Because reasons.

Half-brother AU where their parents are killed in an accident and they’re about to be separated and that’s just a big hell no. (Their relatives want to split them up - there’s this major divide between their paternal/maternal relatives and each side gets one of them Because Plot Reasons.)

Or maybe they just have shitty parents.

OR foster brother AU where they’re placed in a shitty home together and ~bond, because dorks.

Whichever one it is, Ryan realizes he has to get Trevor and himself out of that situation (Because Plot Reasons) and he’s got this sad savings stash, right?

Grabs that and Trevor and gets as far away from their living situation as they can on his savings, which happens to be Los Santos.

They have enough money for a crappy motel room or something for a few days/week, but after that they’re flat broke.

Ryan can’t get a legit job because paperwork/IDs and all that, and look, okay, look.

They’re both idiot kids and maybe Ryan saw things coming long before he took Trevor and ran. Maybe he gave up his pipe dreams of theater and Vinewood because some things (people) are more important than that. (And anyway, he wasn’t that good, according to the shitty parents/foster parents/whoever.)

SO.

He did a few...less than legal things where they used to live, unsavory things that paid well enough. More than some part-time job at a fast food joint anyway.

Enough to get him and Trevor half-way across the country in a city where people who don’t want to be found won’t be. Enough to pay for a place to live until he finds something better here, so. (You do what you got to do and all that.)

Trevor knows Something Is Up (beyond the obvious, because he’s not that dumb, even for a kid) but all Ryan will tell him is that a buddy got him a gig out here, right?

Things will be tight until Ryan gets paid, so just hold on until then.

And then Ryan goes out and Thieves, while Trevor is left to his own devices.

Ryan sets him up at some community center or some such. Something with enough scienc-y shit to keep him occupied enough he won’t think to ask too many questions about what kind of work Ryan’s doing and so on.

Trevor is Not Fooled, but ooh, hey, is that a model rocket kit???? (And so on.)

Ryan breathes a little easier knowing Trevor’s safe(ish) because the community center is the right kind of sketchy.

(They know Something Is Up with Ryan and Trevor, but whatever trouble those kids are in, it’s not anything on Ryan’s end. Trevor’s a smart kid, no way in hell would he adore his brother the way he does if he was a bad guy, and there’s something too familiar about how twitchy Ryan is when it comes to looking after Trevor, so. Safe-ish.)

One day Trevor wanders away from the science-y shit to the gym area.

No one’s supposed to be down there this time of day without someone to supervise, but he’s stumped on something or frustrated with Ryan’s vague non-answers and needs some time to think. Not about to throw himself at the exercise equipment and so on down there, you know?

Just. Thinking room, right?

Only someone’s already there.

Short kid, maybe around Trevor’s age - he’s short, it’s dark with most of the lights off and it’s hard to tell.

This kid is pounding away at the punching bag or using the gymnastics equipment like he’s trying to tire himself out. (Demons of his own, or who even knows.)

Trevor is like “Oops, so sorry, I’ll just get out of your way, sorry again,” but the kid is like,

“Get out of here!”

Which -

“Pardon me?”

Trevor should leave, but the kid’s just being rude and it’s uncalled for and honestly, who the hell does he think he is?

And the kid, it’s like a reflex. Not really thinking about what he’s saying, but he says it anyway because it works on most people. Has them heading the other way without more of a fuss, but this tall lanky asshole just gets this bitch-face.

And that’s how Trevor and Jeremy meet, and Trevor may or may not give as good as he gets when Jeremy sasses him, right? Tries to get him to get out of the gym so Jeremy can work off his anger/frustration, but Trevor is Not Having It.

Somehow, Jeremy finds himself showing Trevor how to box, or walking him through basic gymnastic...things. (Warm-ups/super basic routines, idk, something if we’re going the gymnastics route.)

Ryan finds them like that when he comes to get Trevor, one of the community center’s employees/volunteers with him because they thought they lost Trevor and oh shit, that’s a Problem. isn’t it?

And oh, oh, oh, if it’s the boxing/fighting route they walk in on Trevor punching Jeremy in the face by accident, right?

Trevor focused on throwing a punch the correct way, and Jeremy looking over when he hears the gym doors open, and it all ends in Jeremy getting punched in the face, okay?

Trevor’s aborted ‘woo-hoo!’ when he realizes oh shit, I punched Jeremy, oh shit he’s bleeding?

“Why are bleeding you ass you said you knew what you were doing!!! RYAN HELP.”

Ryan and the employee/volunteer rushing over because Jeremy’s a sweet kid but he’s a loner - got all this anger to him and pushes people away - and they think Trevor and Jeremy are fighting and it’s a mess -

Up until they realize Jeremy’s laughing.

Nose gushing blood with Trevor fluttering over him all genuine concern and terror and these two Adults (semi-adult in Ryan, but close enough) rushing over and it’s so ridiculous? (Because he’s a little confused by Trevor still, okay. Thinks he could like him but mostly ??? because Trevor is Odd.)

And now Jeremy’s going to get into trouble - doesn’t matter if he and Trevor were getting along or anything, he knows what this has to look like.

Jeremy’s a Trouble Kid and the guy he doesn’t recognize (Trevor’s brother?) looks pissed. (Worried.)

The employee/volunteer looks annoyed - no one’s supposed to down here, let alone fighting - and he knows how it looks, so yeah.

But then Trevor’s babbling about breaking Jeremy’s nose and “Ryan, Ryan, I didn’t mean to and oh, God, I broke his nose. Who does that, Ryan? A bad friend, that’s who.“

This “Ryan” stops short, blinks at Trevor who is still babbling and then at Jeremy and -

“Well, I mean,” Ryan says, looking at Jeremy who’s trying to stop the bleeding while the community center employee/volunteer veers off to get paper towels or whatever now they know Trevor and Jeremy aren’t trying to kill one another. “Doesn’t look like you drove the bone into his brain, so that’s good?”

What the actual fuck.

Ryan gives them this tentative little grin, because Jeremy’s mind is off the pain - no seriously, what the actual fuck - and Trevor is just ??? and !!! at Ryan and the thought he could have killed Jeremy???

“Okay, no, no,” Jeremy says, voice all weird because nose and bleeding and ow. “That’s a myth. You can’t actually kill someone that way. Please stop thinking you almost killed me Trevor, omg, no.”

(Jeremy knows this because little kids and fascination with morbid shit. His boxing instructor/whatever he had before his life turned to shit was a Good Person who was fast to quash that one before his students broke each other’s noses trying to see if said myth was true, jfc what is wrong with these little monsters???)

And Ryan, okay.

Supposed Responsible Adult Ryan looks almost disappointed by that news.

Which.

Again, what the actual fuck.

And that’s how Jeremy meets Ryan.

And then!

Guilty!Trevor insists he and Ryan stay with Jeremy until his guardians or whoever pick him up even though Jeremy is trying to get them to NOT do the thing?

But they do.

(Ryan is suspicious as to why Jeremy’s so insistent they not bother - has a Bad Feeling about it because he’s very much Not Concerned at Trevor and Ryan meeting his Guardians, you know? The way Ryan is whenever anyone asks about parents and the whatnot.)

They wait and wait and wait, but no one comes to get Jeremy and eventually he’s like, well shit.

The buses stopped running a while ago and it’s a hell of a long walk (through Bad Neighborhoods) to get home and goddammit.

“Hey,” Ryan says, because Trevor is giving him The Eyes, all Concerned about his new friend and Ryan is likewise Concerned, but also trying to be Cold-hearted, Totally Not His Problem. “We’re not that far away from where the two of us are staying.”

Just an observation, definitely not an offer or anything.

Same goes for this all-night diner next to the motel, and the food he gets for them. (Accidentally orders the wrong thing, but tells the waitress not to worry, but could he also get this other order too? Slides the “mistake order” to Trevor - he’s a growing kid, gotta eat and all that, and if he splits the extra food with Jeremy none of his business.)

By the time they get to the motel it’s too late for someone Jeremy’s age to be walking around at night alone, so he can share with Trevor and Ryan’s got work in the morning, so just keep quiet, okay?

(If they happen to stop by the diner again in the morning on the way to the community center and Ryan orders too much food he foists off on the others, well. They’re new to town, how is he supposed to know how big the portions are at this particular diner??? Don’t waste the food, brats.)

And then Jeremy just kind of gets lumped in with Trevor when it comes to people Ryan will protect to the death and all that and so on and so forth.

Problem is, as Trevor and Jeremy become better friends it means trouble for Ryan.

First in the shenanigans they get into together, and then when Trevor mentions one of Ryan’s bosses - he has a lot of part-time jobs or some such, whatever it is Ryan tells Trevor - and one day he mentions a name Jeremy knows.

Has Jeremy being all oh no because it means Ryan is up to Shady Shit and Trevor doesn’t know. (For certain.)

Can’t keep it to himself for forever - Trevor picks up on it faster than anyone would like - and they confront Ryan.

Trevor angry and betrayed - not that Ryan’s doing illegal shit, that he’s...kind of okay with, just. More that Ryan didn’t trust him with the truth when Trevor’s the reason they’re in Los Santos at all.

(He’s not, at least the whole reason, but Ryan couldn’t leave Trevor behind knowing what he’d leave him to, and anyway, he could have done this better. Gotten Trevor somewhere he’d thrive, get to live his life the way he’s supposed to but he fucked up and now everything’s fucked and just. Fuck.)

Poor Jeremy is nervous and scared - Trevor and Ryan gave him his first real safe-ish space he’s had in a while and he fucked that up - because hey, way to go, Dooley.

There’s a lot of blame and recriminations being thrown around - misunderstanding and the like - and Angst until someone is like wait, wait.

Because Trevor, no, this isn’t your fault. And Ryan, no, Trevor doesn’t hate you. And Jeremy, no, no one’s mad at you.

Lots of Talking and Listening and Feels and then like.

“Okay, no. I’m taking you two with me to work, for fuck’s sake.”

Because Ryan is out Thieving and dear God, no, Trevor and Jeremy are too young for that. (He wants them to go to school and better themselves and like hell is he getting involved in his shit.)

But you know, stubborn assholes.

So.

Compromise???

When he has spare money he rigs up a comms for them - something like that anyway - where they can listen in and backseat Thieve with him while he’s out working. (Something he upgrades as he gets better at his job and can afford better equipment.)

In return Trevor and Jeremy do the School Thing, but mostly to appease Ryan and learn things to help Ryan get better/one day help him out.

Because Plot Reasons.

Everyone kind of knows what’s going on - Ryan’s not that stupid but at least they’re not in the thick of things (yet) and maybe he can go back to a legit job some day? (???)

And then!

And then they find out Ryan’s met Other Thieves. This Gavin prick and his friend Meg and Michael’s out there too and idk, just. People who give Ryan shit and kind of coo over how adorable he is when it comes to his little brother and his asshole friend. (Also, they watch Ryan’s back and the like, helped him get out of scrapes here and there and vice versa.)

Also, also, how hard it was getting him to admit to having a little brother, that’s how closemouthed he was about it. (How serious he is about keeping Trevor, and then Jeremy safe.)

And when Jeremy’s shitty guardians enter the picture it’s thanks to Gavin and the others that things don’t turn into a shitshow - Ryan’s great, okay. Protective as hell but he’s still new to the city, doesn’t know the people they do or have the favors they can call in, and anyway, anyway.

They get Jeremy out of his living situation and with Trevor and Ryan and a decent place to live and everyone’s better off than they started.

Maybe Ryan continues with his life of crime with Trevor and Jeremy following along behind, or maybe not, idk which I like better?

But everyone gets the happily ever after they deserve whichever way things go for them.

...and then, of course, at some point Matt happens.

Either Trevor and Jeremy find him somewhere along the line, or Ryan stumbles over him in one of the houses he burgles.

This kid who is like “Oh, hey. A burglar. Cool.” and does absolutely nothing to protect himself. Doesn’t even run to safety, what the fuck Matt? What if Ryan had a gun?

What if he was one of those assholes who didn’t care who they hurt? You stupid asshole.

And he brings Matt home - look, idk, it happens at some point, okay. Maybe Ryan keeps “burgling” Matt’s place to check up on him and his parents are never home? (Rich assholes off on business trips and the whatnot too busy/self-absorbed to bother with their kid. Maybe they’re legit, maybe they’re involved in one of the crews around town, who knows.)

Ryan fucking steals him too, along with the routers and alarm clocks and busts and drops him on Trevor and Jeremy and is like, “He’s your problem now.”

The two of them are Rightfully Concerned because RYAN, NO but then they get Matt’s story out of him and are like okay, no. Never mind, RYAN, YES and that’s how Trevor and Jeremy get their Myatt.

ALSOALSOALSO: Imagine the romcom matchmaker shenanigans the Stream Team get into RE Ryan and his ~coworkers, okay.

Ryan being like, NO STOP OMG NO while they try to set him up with Gavin, or Gavin and Meg, or whoever else.

The misunderstandings in which they try to set him up with someone he’s actually NOT interested in in a romantic way - and vice versa on said person’s part - but goddamn does said person think it’s hilarious when they find out what’s been going on.

(The way Ryan kind of hates to say worked when he does get together with whoever he does like in a romantic way knowing the Stream Team will never let him live it down.)

...not to mention the way “Stream Team” works really well for what Trevor, Jeremy, and Matt call themselves while they Backseat Thieve!Ryan via coms/~magical tech? (lololol /o\)

And like.

Everyone’s in here at some point, like.

OMG.

Cop/fed Fredo and his kid sister/whatever Fiona who befriends the Stream Team and the shenanigans from that because hey, Ryan’s kind of on the Most Wanted List as this Infamous Cat Burglar and Fredo’s part of a task force to bring him in and lolol Fiona figures everything out and pretends not to know anything just to fuck with them.

Fredo also figures shit out and is like.

DENY EVERYTHING. (And omgomgomg, he and Ryan have a thing??? IDK, I’m all over the place with this but I am dying at the potential for the whole ~star-crossed romance bs, I kid you not. /o\)

#ragehappy #thief simulatar au #look #it's super late #and i'm super caffeinated #so yeah #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#big bro ryan au

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queennicoleinboots · 4 years ago

Text

Swamp Ass

A/N: Alternate Reality. Shit just happens.

It was yet another 80 degree-Fahrenheit day in Georgia. But 80 degrees is not 80 degrees in Georgia. It's really closer to 100 degrees when you factor in humidity and radiation from cell phone towers. I was sweating (and eating) like a pig.

My husband, Joebear, was growling because his butt was sweating. He hated having swamp ass. So he turned on the air conditioner. He also had a fan blowing in his face. The bear needed to be cool in order to not go bear shit on the world.

Speaking of bears, Colonel Mac, a gray bear, was riding over swamp land in his power wheelchair. His wheels were getting stuck in the swamp bog, so he kept having to ride one foot forward and two feet back. He was also grumbling about having a swamp ass because it was sweating in the chair. Clearly, he was having a fucked-up day.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing also had a terrible case of swamp ass. He was taking a huge shit on some documents he needed to get rid of because his shredder stopped working. His angry brown bear wife named Megara thought his swamp ass was being put to good use. She had swamp ass, too.

I also had swamp ass. I was sitting under a tree in the swamp and eating vegetable soup and chocolate. I was also waiting on my husband's meatloaf to finish cooking so I could eat that. It had swamp ass, too.

Paul the Goat was trying to mow the swamp with his lawn mower because he was sick of the bog. His lawn mower broke. He started bleating with a deep voice and beating the hell out of the lawn mower. Apparently, he would scratch his butt every now and then. He lacked air conditioner and hot water. He had a case of swamp ass, too.

Hollywood, his horse that joined the Secret American Society of Sexually Frustrated Goats literally a second ago, also just took a sloppy, green dump on the lawn mower. His leg was in severe pain and needed an X-ray specifically done by a sexually frustrated goat veterinarian. Hollywood also had swamp ass.

Joebear realized that he could smell the horse shit. He sniffed the air and asked, "Whoa! What the fuck is that bullshit smell?" He squinched his nose and looked around to see Paul the Goat peeing on the lawn mower to rinse the horse shit off of it. The smell of the piss and shit was being caught in the fan. "Oh my God I'm braindead!" Joebear turned off the fan and stuck his head in the computer screen. "Actually braindead." Joebear scratched his head. He laughed. "That's fucked up. That's very much fucked up. And sometimes I wonder why I'm fucked up."

I laughed at my husband and said, "I'm sorry, bae. I'm fucked up."

Colonel Mac ran into a tree when he was backing up. The tree was moist and left a wet streak on Colonel Mac's back. "What the fuck is wrong with this tree?!" he screamed as he went forward and looked behind him as he shook his fist at the tree. "DOES IT NEED A MASSAGE?!" Even the tree had swamp ass.

"Apparently," I said. "I need a forehead massage to deal with all of this swamp ass!" I started to massage my own forehead.

"OH MY GOD!!!!!! FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!!!" Joebear screamed at his computer. Apparently, it had swamp ass, too.

Colonel Mac tried to ride over to me before the damn wheelchair got caught on a fuckass tree root and sent him flying toward me. "HOLY SHIT!" he yelled in a strong Southern accent.

"All right. Time to get around this guy's dumb shit. Mother fucker!" Joebear growled as he referred to the tree with swamp ass and glared at his computer screen.

"I managed to get around the guy's dumb shit!" Colonel Mac screamed as his body ended up going through my forehead at Ludacris speed. He went physically through a tree before screaming as he landed right between Joebear and me. Then, Colonel Mac got up and started dancing a gig to the Chicken Dance song.

"Goddammit fucking horse!" Joebear screamed before Hollywood ran his bear ass over. The horse then kicked the shit out of the oven where the meatloaf was. "Ugh. Calm that shit down!" Joebear rolled over and growled.

Colonel Mac farted as he danced. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing farted as he ate a piece of a chicken. I farted as my ass was now foggy bottom.

The oven threw out the meatloaf and flew into Joebear's bear ass. "Just random kids! Why are they writing stories about my dinner going in my ass? Let's get rid of this dumb shit." On that note, Joebear took a shit. He also cussed out Black Desert Online and Magic the Gathering as he played them on his computer. He tried to play League of Legends, but he kept getting matches where he was 4 versus 5.

Colonel Mac also took this moment to take a shit to finish the dance. His ass was now a swamp. His shit literally consumed all of us. Now we were located in Swamp Ass Mac in Logantown, Georgia. This man hugged everyone as dudes do. No homo. No gay shit.

Skipjacks were swimming around in Mac's shit. Peter, my curly-haired jerk ex-client with green eyes, was sitting on a toilet that was on top of a shit wave that crashed near us.

Peter growled. "Dammit! Over a year later, and it happened again. Explosive diarrhea. Fuck me. I'm a zombie who has been radiated by nearby cell phone towers. OH AND I HAVE COVID-19!" he screamed as he remained on the toilet.

Joebear ate a piece of meatloaf before looking at him. "Dude, you're fucked up."

"Oh God. My long lost cousin's sister's brother's former college roommate almost had Covid a month ago. You're the first asshole who has it this month," Colonel Mac said. "Something tells me you're a swamp asshole."

"WHO IS HE TO YOU?!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang randomly.

"Absolutely nobody," Colonel Mac said with a hearty laugh.

"What was the point of mentioning it then?" Megara asked as she threw her left hip to the side.

"The son'a bitch was a Democrat!" Colonel Mac said with a snort laugh.

"Really? I heard almost all Democrats had it," Peter said as he blinked.

"Yep. Only liberals have it," I said as I poked his right shoulder repeatedly.

"Oh fuck you, Xara!" Peter said as he rolled his eyes and poked me repeatedly. "Everything's political with you!"

Joebear ate a fish that was in Peter's shit wave. "What am I going to do about my balls?"

"I don't know, bae. You have swamp balls," I said.

"Swamp balls? What the fuck are those?" Joebear asked.

"They're like swamp ass. You have sweaty balls," I said.

Joebear stared at me with his bear brown eyes. "... Girl. You fucked up," he said.

Colonel Mac growled in agreement.

A random song from the 80s, "Hi! ho! Let's Go!" started playing in the swamp.

"Shut the. Fuck. Up. Shut the. Fuck. Up," Joebear sang along. "Let's stick our dicks in a blender and see what happens."

I laughed so hard I had a headache.

"Why not? I can't have sex when I have Covid. Might as well stick my dick in a blender and feed it to these fish," Peter said with a shrug.

The skipjacks immediately began to swirl around Peter while making goofy noises. They were hungry. And they had swamp ass.

"Fuck off. I was being facetious. And it's a fucking oven out here! It's almost as bad as when my old Ford Lincoln had no AC. Thank God that fucking car caught on fire," Peter spoke.

"That's nothing. I abuse my dick three times a day and have sex. And fuck that car indeed," Joebear said as he growled and started masturbating.

Paul the Goat bleated and had to excuse himself.

"There are too many penises and swamp asses in this story!" Colonel Mac shouted. "This is gay!"

Joebear growled loudly and realized that Colonel Mac was correct. "You're right, dude. I need sex!" Joebear screamed.

Everyone bleated except me. I was eating more vegetables. I needed to shower. I had swamp ass.

"Bae Whuhhh!!! Let me eat! Let me shower!" I shouted happily as I ate.

"Hurry up. I need to release seed. In fact, I need to eat, too. I am going to eat a sandwich!"

So Joebear took his sandwich and remaining piece of meatloaf and went in the woods to await me.

Colonel Mac tried to get out of this story, but he managed to tweak his right knee. "Oh fuck! I can't even get out of this sausage fest story! I'm fucked. Sigh!" he complained as his right leg was completely consumed by the swamp. It had swamp ass.

"Story of my life," Peter said with a giggle. "You would positively DIE if you knew half of the horrible shit I'VE gone through. Especially in the last three years. Holy Shit being around Xara is a curse!"

I giggled and ate the last bite of soup. Then, I walked over to fish out Colonel Mac's leg from swamp ass and patted his knee. "I'll give you the transcripts," I said to Colonel Mac as I poked the knee once.

"Feels good," Colonel Mac said. "Okay. Send the transcripts."

"Fuck you," Peter said as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at me with menacing green eyes.

"Haha. You're a dick, Peter," I said as I left the swamp.

Ted the Alligator then drained the swamp. Peter was going down a toilet while he remained on the toilet. Colonel Mac also was flushed down the toilet. Paul the Goat bleated, and Hollywood winnied as they were also flushed down Swamp Ass Mac's drain. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing randomly sang in opera, "SWAMP ASS!!! MY ASS PASSES GAS" as the end credits to this story.

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something-tofightfor · 6 years ago

Text

Before the Beginning: The Constant

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader, Billy Russo x Madani (....)

Word Count: 3600 (is anyone really surprised?)

Rating: M (language, sexual situations)

Author’s Note: Again, we jump back into Billy’s mind... which I have no rights to, and Reader’s mind... which is a little more open to interpretation. Interesting. I hope you enjoy. This is for @ooo-barff-ooo, who sent me a strongly worded ask a while ago. Hope she enjoys.

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @drinix @dylanobrusso @likethetailofacomet @ilkaeliseb @editboutique @marauderskeeper @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @mr-robot-x @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @ethereal-heavcns@zaffrenotes @jovialyouthmusic @introvertedlibrary @ladyblablabla @writing-for-a-chance @crayola-colored-skeletons @yesixoxo

Reader POV:

As you sipped your iced coffee, you scrolled through the pictures on your phone, trying to find the will to delete them. You didn’t have pictures from dates or events like the other women that Billy had ‘dated’; all of the images you were thumbing through were much more intimate in nature, which somehow made things worse. There were pictures of the two of you tangled together on your couch, his lips on your neck, long hair hanging over his eyes and a satisfied smile on your face. There were pictures of you in bed - his dark hair standing out against your sheets, his body almost illuminated in the low light against his own dark ones.

You bit your lip as you made it even further back, looking through candids of Billy in your kitchen, standing in front of your apartment’s largest window, pictures of the two of you just hanging out… like a normal couple would have, even though you were anything but. Sighing, you began to select multiple images, making quick work of it, because it had been long enough - too much time spent waiting and hoping. There had been similar photos on his phone of you, but you figured that he’d deleted them long ago in order to ensure that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. “It’s time.”

---

You’d met Billy soon after his final deployment, and your first glimpse of him had been memorable. Billy had been hunched over the bar with his long fingers wrapped around a beer bottle, picking at the edges of the label. He hung his head without drinking, and the first thing you’d noticed was the way that his hair drooped over his eye almost carelessly. I’d love to have those fingers wrapped around my throat. You approached him, sliding onto the empty bar stool next to him, and he hadn’t even looked up until you spoke directly to him, not bothering to disguise the interested tone of your voice. “Buy you a shot?” Though his eyes - and his entire face, if you were being honest - were gorgeous and you’d been stunned as he looked at you for the first time, you noticed that there was an emptiness behind them as he’d looked you over. You hadn’t known it then, but Billy was a master at hiding his emotions, and the few moments of despair coupled with the empty gaze would be all you got in the way of true emotion for months - until he had a nightmare in your bed and woke you by gasping for breath, his skin cold and clammy as his legs jerked. “You look like you need it.”

The transformation of his face was seamless, and the cold, empty look was quickly replaced with a smooth smile and a glint in his eyes that was almost predatory as he eyed you. “Yeah.” He licked his lips, bringing the beer bottle to his mouth and taking a drink. “Yeah, OK. I’ll take a shot.” One shot turned into two, his hand brushing against your arm multiple times, your knee grazing his repeatedly, and you knew almost immediately that you’d be ending the night in bed with him, which you were perfectly fine with. “To absent friends and the shitty decisions people make when they’re cornered.” He lifted the whiskey and allowed you to clink your glass against his before he tipped it back and swallowed, your eyes focused on his throat and the way his jaw worked as the liquid went down. I definitely want him.

By midnight, you were in Billy’s apartment, your arms pinned behind your back with one of his large hands, the other gripping your throat as he held you against the wall, his chest pressed to yours as he kissed you like you’d never see him again. And I probably won’t. His hips rocked against yours as he tugged on your lip with his teeth, and you caught a glimpse of them bared in a snarl as he lowered his head to your bare shoulder, latching on there with little hesitation. You knew his name, knew that he was a Marine Corps scout sniper - a lieutenant, he’d told you with absolute pride - knew that he’d just gotten back from his final deployment a few weeks prior - and you also knew that Billy needed to blow off some steam badly. His grip on your throat tightened and his hand slid upward, thumb roughly moving against your lips. Without thought, you parted them, flicking your tongue out against the pad of his finger before he bent it and you sucked it into your mouth, hearing and feeling the low groan in the back of his throat as he bit down harder on your skin.

With a grunt, he released your hands and pulled his hand away from your face, leaning in again and kissing you hard. You immediately brought your hands up and threaded your fingers in his hair, yanking on it as he worked the button of your jeans undone and pushed them to the floor. “I don’t care where you fuckin’ touch me,” he grunted, pulling your hips flush against his. “I just want your goddamn hands on me tonight.” You nodded and kissed him again, feeling his fingers slip between the waistband of your underwear and the skin of your abdomen. Fucking hell. Billy shoved you back against the wall, pinning you in place with his body and even before anything had really happened, you knew that you were in for a treat that night with the man whose hands had made their way to the muscle of your ass - still beneath the fabric of your panties, fingers kneading and squeezing the skin almost painfully. The man’s built like a God, and I can guarantee that he fucks like one too. That had been your last coherent thought before Billy lifted you and your legs had wrapped around his waist automatically as he carried you to his bedroom.

---

Going back through the pictures had reminded you of the night you’d met, the night you’d gone home with him for the first time - and you knew that it wasn’t good for you, even though Billy had been good for you. Your assumptions had been 100% correct, Billy was everything you’d thought him to be, plus so much more. You’d become friends - not easily, because he didn’t like letting people in, but steadily, and he trusted you. What was almost worse was just how much you trusted him, and how much his mere presence in your life had changed you. Billy had been a calming presence in your life, and even though you knew what he did, what he had done and what he still had to do, you didn’t care.

“Enough. Just delete them.” Chewing on the straw, you made it to the first picture of him on your phone - Billy smiling at you over a beer from the second time you’d met him, two weeks after that first night, “So that I have a picture to look at when you call me at two am”, you’d said to him, one eyebrow raised as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dark. “Damn you, Russo.” Your finger hovered over the “Delete all 186 photos” button and you knew that it was the right thing to do - the smart thing to do. “Goddammit.” You hit cancel, locking the screen and putting your head in your hands. It had been a month since Billy had told you Rawlins was watching him more closely, that he needed to be careful with you. One month since he’d effectively ended your in person association - after one of the most thorough and memorable reminders of why you had worked so well together in the first place… and you knew that it was for the best, even if it didn’t feel that way when you looked at Billy’s face, smiling or smirking at you from your phone’s screen or from the commercials you’d seen on TV for Anvil. You enjoyed waking up in the morning and breathing, and so you’d understood when he told you that it was for the best. But that doesn’t mean that it’s easy.

Finishing your coffee, you stood, getting ready to check the time on your phone when it lit up - Billy’s picture on the screen and your heart leaping into your throat as the sight of him. Goddamn him and his perfect face. “Hello?” You tried to keep your tone even, but knew that you sounded just a little too excited and heard him snicker before he even said a word, the sound familiar to your ear and making your heart ache. Casual my ass.

“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “I need to stop by your place if that’s OK.” You paused. No. It’s not OK, it’s not, I can’t… “Somethin’ happened at work today, someone from Homeland showed up, and I need to talk to you about what happens next with us.” Us? I thought there was no us… not anymore.

“Yeah, Billy. Of course.” You swallowed, throwing your cup into the trash can and beginning to walk back toward your place. “I’m on my way home now.” Whatever this is, it’s bad.

Billy’s POV

The bed was comfortable - sheets soft, pillows just firm enough for him, the mattress conforming to his body as he shifted onto his side. Billy sighed quietly, turning his face toward the pillow and drawing in a deep breath. It doesn’t smell right. He could smell his own cologne mixed with the scent of the fabric softener, but the most overpowering scent in his nostrils was Dinah Madani’s perfume. I shouldn’t be here. Billy’s eyes opened as he took in the face of the woman sleeping next to him; even deeply asleep with the aid of a sedative from her mother, Dinah’s face looked pained, a frown line present on her forehead. This is my fault. All my fault. I shouldn’t be here, I should be...

It had been difficult for him to get away from the rooftop where he’d stabbed her partner - Stein - to death, rage in Billy’s eyes and blood splattering his face as his hidden knife disappeared into the man’s chest and throat repeatedly. Though he hadn’t liked the man based solely on the fact that he’d overheard Stein calling him pretty more than once, Billy hadn’t wanted to kill him… and yet he’d had to, barely allowing the man’s body to fall to the ground before taking off running in order to leave before Dinah had found her way to the rooftop, too. At least it wasn’t her. What Billy hadn’t been prepared for was the phone call from Dinah roughly an hour and a half later, asking him to come get her.

Though he’d only known her for a week or so at that point and they’d slept together a couple of times, Billy hadn’t realized that Dinah had so few people that she could call, which made him feel… surprise.

He’d just finished showering, putting himself back together in a casual outfit, briefing Rawlins on what had happened when his personal phone had gone off, Dinah’s name on the screen. “H…hey, Billy? It’s… It’s Dinah. I need… can you… There was an… Sam’s dead.” She’d nearly broken down as she asked if he could come and get her to take her home, since she didn’t think she could drive, and the entire way there, Billy had gripped the wheel of his Wraith tightly, heart pounding. He wasn’t worried that she knew he’d been involved, because she wasn’t in the right state of mind to string him along or set him up, but Billy was still worried about what the phone call meant.

Going along with Rawlins was one thing - killing American soldiers to keep a secret was another. Frank was another thing, Maria and the kids were something he couldn’t even being himself to think about most days, but this… this was it, and Billy knew that things were going to spiral out of control. Not only had Billy driven Dinah home after wrapping a clean blanket around her shoulders to keep the blood from staining the inside of his car, he’d helped her into the bathroom, shocked at the fact that not one of the other officers or agents had thought to wipe the blood from her skin or get her a clean outfit to wear. Those fuckers, they could have… Billy wasn’t sure what he thought of Madani on a personal level, but as a professional? He knew she would have been appalled at at the way her colleagues had let her leave the crime scene.

Her mother had greeted them at the front door, eyes widening in shock as Billy had led her silent daughter into the apartment and to her bedroom, turning down the offer for Farah to help with the bath. “Dr. Madani, that’s not necessary. I’ve… I’ve helped people through similar situations before, I know what she needs.” The woman’s kind eyes had locked on Billy’s with a silent thank you behind them, and he nodded as he closed Dinah’s bedroom door behind the two of them, carefully stripping off her clothes without allowing his fingers to touch her bare skin any more than necessary.

Even as the bathwater had run and he helped her into the tub, urging her to sit down in the steaming water, Billy’s mind had been running a mile a minute, thinking about what would happen next, what he could do to protect himself, to protect you. Dinah was nearly catatonic, barely able to bring her hands together to get the blood from them, and he focused on her face, on her eyes - the tremble of her lips. He talked quietly to her, his voice low and soothing as he bathed her, sponging the hot water onto her shoulders and arms, rubbing gently as the water turned pink. Billy had pulled the plug, letting the water begin to drain so that she wasn’t sitting in the bloody bath, turning the tap back on so that she would stay warm. It was easy, it was familiar, and it was not the first time he’d helped someone wash blood from their skin - hell, he’d done the same thing for himself, not even two hours prior.

After she was clean, Dinah was slightly more responsive, helping him dress her in a pair of pajamas, telling him where her blow dryer was - but she was also very willing to take the pill Farah had left on the bedside table next to a cool glass of water. Billy had leaned over the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up to Dinah’s chin, his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re gonna be OK, Dinah. It doesn’t feel like it now, but you’re going to be.” She nodded once, her eyes squeezing closed and a few tears slipping out from beneath the lids as Billy stood, stretching his legs out. “Your mom is right in the other room -”

“Can you stay with me, Billy?” Dinah’s eyes were wide open again, and as he looked down in surprise, Billy saw that she was scared. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.” She’s scared because of what I did, and she doesn’t even know it. He paused and then nodded, sitting back on the edge of the bed to untie his boots, pulling them off of his feet and lining them up in front of the nightstand. Billy stood, undoing the belt of his jeans and sliding them off too before easing himself underneath the blanket, leaving some space between himself and Dinah. “Thank you.” Her eyes had closed again and after only a few minutes, her breaths evened out and Billy knew that she was asleep.

And there he was, an hour later, staring at the woman next to him in the early evening light filtering in through her curtains as she slept. I’m sorry, Dinah. You got caught up in this, and I’m just sorry that it had to be you. Billy shifted, reaching down toward the floor to pull his phone from his jeans pocket, unlocking it and clicking Instagram open. He quickly navigated to your page, looking at your newest posts and feeling his mood lighten slightly. He’d planned on breaking the no contact rule after the incident that afternoon, to tell you about what had happened, but Madani’s call had changed everything, meaning that he hadn’t gotten to you as he’d hoped. After a few minutes of browsing, he closed the app and tucked his phone back into the pocket, rolling onto his back and putting one arm beneath his head before turning to look at Madani again. He searched her face, and while he wished that he could erase the pain she was feeling, he felt… nothing otherwise.

Not sadness, not pity, not fear. The woman had made her choices, had pursued him, and been willing to use her body to win him over - what she hadn’t know was that Billy was doing the same to her. Though Billy knew that Madani would likely figure things out at some point, he felt emptiness as he stared at her, and if he was being honest, it was closer to apathy than anything else, similar to the way he interacted with his mother… but without the anger and the hurt. It was routine for him, done because he needed to keep up appearances and nothing more. Madani truly was a means to an end for him, and even though Billy knew that his time under Rawlins’ thumb was likely (and hopefully) coming to an end, being near the Homeland agent for Rawlins was actually more helpful than Billy had ever thought it could be. Lying came second nature to Billy, as did using people for his own benefit, and the situation with Madani crossed both of those things off on the list while adding the benefits of keeping Rawlins placated - and keeping Billy physically stimulated. Not well, though. Not well enough.

Billy’s eyes went back up to the ceiling, staring blankly at it, and he took a deep breath. It’s all wrong. All of it. I shouldn’t be here, not now, not... He let himself think of you again, of the way you smelled, the way your bed felt beneath his back, the way you fit into his arms. The way he felt for you was entirely different than the way he’d ever felt about anyone else before, and no amount of time spent in Madani’s arms or her bed were going to change that. Even though Billy didn’t want to think about what the future would bring in terms of his own safety and well-being, he was overly concerned with what it meant for you. I have to protect her. I have to find a way.

The minutes ticked away and the room grew dimmer, but Billy was wide awake, the beginnings of a plan taking shape in his mind. He’d already been backing up your computers, had already planted the bag in your closet - that had happened the night he’d come to you to tell you Madani had showed up in a training exercise - but what exactly did it all mean?

He needed to figure out a way to get you out of the city with him when it came time - because if there was one thing that Billy Russo knew, it was that time always ran out - and he wasn’t going to let it run out for someone else he cared about.

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grizzs-garden · 5 years ago

Note

Seeing as I totally failed, and asked you for someone you had already done... :)) I'd love to see you answer for both Clark and Gwen?

Of course! Get ready for a long post!

----------

Why I like them:

Clark -- liking Clark is of course complicated, cause he was kind of this problematic goofy footballer white boy in the beginning, which is admirable in the sense of comedic relief. But then he goes off the deep end (like most white boys in the show jfjskdkd). I just like his interactions with the guard from the beginning of the season for the most part.

Gwen -- to be completely honest I don't like Gwen too much. I think she's strong-willed, which is admirable, and she knows how to cheat the system to get what she wants (pretending to still date Clark in order to have her own room). She's got some smarts in how to get her way, which can be both a good and bad thing.

Why I don't like them:

Clark -- The first time I thought "huh maybe this dude is serious bad news" was when he beat Dewey in the wine cellar. I don't like how violent and power hungry he can be. The once blissful, likable idiot turned into an ignorant, violent asshole pretty quick.

Gwen -- I never really liked the whole "boy-crazy" thing, especially the FMK with someone else's boyfriend?? Anyway I think she's just got a lot of girl drama that I don't care for at all.

Favorite episode:

Clark -- Episode 5 "Putting on the Clothes" is my favorite for him not only because it has the famous raid scene but because it has the scene where he beats Dewey. As much as I hate him for it, that scene reveals a lot about Clark's character and foreshadows his power hungry, defy-the-rules-to-get-what-I-want attitude.

Gwen -- Episode 10 "How it Happens" because it has the scene where she talks with Grizz in his tent during the expedition. Although her motivations were not ideal, they actually both shared some much needed vulnerability with each other. She's not in the series much so it's hard to pick out a favorite episode for her, but I think that's the one.

Favorite season: last time I interpreted this as favorite scene because we only have one season, so I'll pick a scene they're both in! I've always really liked the scene where Clark and Gwen are walking Elle home from movie night and Clark tries to quote Princess Bride (and fails miserably). I've just always liked Clark's goofy "My name... is Undigo Montoya...." and Gwen's laughter with "that's not how it goes!" (even if Campbell has to ruin it be being possessive over Elle).

Favorite line:

Clark -- ok to be honest I don't remember much of what he's said but there's a scene that's giffed somewhere on here where he and Jason are arguing with Grizz about being in charge. He says something like, "We got ideas." To which Jason says, "We do?" And Clark corrects, "We could have ideas." And I've just thought that's one of his many stupid/funny quotes. I never remember anything serious he's said cause tbh its probably mostly problematic.

Gwen -- this is hard cause she doesn't really say much. I think I'm going to go with the line she says at the end of her scene with Grizz in his tent. It's something like, "Well, I'm still cold and lonely. Can I stay?" I think it just speaks volumes about acceptance and shows that Gwen is really just lonely and needs someone to count on and make her feel safe.

Favorite outfit:

Clark -- I dont know why but I think he especially looks like such a dork in that letterman's jacket. I mean yeah they all look kinda funny in them but he especially makes it look dorky. There's also a photo out there from the prom episode where he's got a blue clown wig on and it's quite the fashion statement.

Gwen -- I really like her prom outfit! It's a good color on her and the skirt has a nice floral print. I don't often like florals but she looks cute in it.

OTP: I don't really have an otp for either of them?? Generally because they were dating each other and kept their break up a secret.

Brotp:

Clark -- well obviously Jason. They're like tweedledee and tweedledum. They share half a brain cell. They are the ultimate brotp.

Gwen -- probably Grizz. She's the only person he's confided in with his sexuality (besides Sam). On the same level, he's the only person she's the least bit vulnerable with in the whole show, so I think they could be good friends.

Headcanon:

Clark -- His best classes in high school were science classes! He might've needed some help with the math portions, but he rocked the hell out of labs (even if he refused to wear safety goggles properly).

Gwen -- She's actually really nice and sweet if you make an effort to get to know her. She puts up and icey front to protect aspects of herself she's self-conscious about, but if you make an effort to be her true friend, she'll opens up with time. It's just that she's afraid of sincerity, but once you've gotten past that, she's really a good friend.

Unpopular opinion: I'm sorry but they're both exactly the type of people I would hate if they went to my school. If I saw Clark and Gwen in person, I would despise them on a surface level. It's just that they both hold morals that are not even close to those that I agree with. Seeing them on screen is different because I appreciate them as characters and can dissect them through analysis, but if I saw them in person I'd probably steer clear in the nicest way possible.

A wish:

Clark -- for Clark I wish a major redemption arc. I know he's been kind of a jerk from the beginning but I want him to realize that he doesn't have to be in power to get treated like someone with a brain. Because we joke about these guys being idiots but I think, given the opportunity, they could come up with good ideas an solutions to problems.

Gwen -- for Gwen I wish she would realize that she doesn't need a boyfriend or a hookup to feel good about herself. I think a lot of her personality is stored within being with a man and I just want her to find out that life isn't all about having a romantic/sexual partner.

Oh God please dont.... let Clark go too off the deep end I want my nice goofy guard back goddammit.

Oh God please dont.... make Gwen a villain of any kind?? She doesn't deserve that.

5 words to describe them:

Clark -- Goofy but dangerously power hungry.

Gwen -- hides behind romance, very lonely.

Nickname:

Clark -- I just call him by his name most times. I do like his last name (Beecher) though. Also my dog's brother's name is Clark so there's that.

Gwen -- again I just call her by her name. It makes me think of Queen Guinevere though, so her name sounds very royal to me.

#clark beecher #gwen patterson #the society #maddie replies #evendeathgiveslife #ask game #wow that took forever sorry for the wait!#thanks for asking!

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wizardessheart-sideb · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

The latest episode is here! Below the cut is a transcription

HEWWO!

Hello everyone, welcome to Royal Magic Academy Radio, a podcast about Wizardess Heart. I’m your host, Mari. So uh. YEAH, we had a lot of big stuff happen since the last episode, so let’s get on with the show.

GAMING NEWS

Event-wise, we got a joint Romance Point slot that brings back some of Elias and Luca’s past stories AND CGs. So it’s a combo of two guys AND stories and CGs. There’s a new star collection event, All Aboard the Mystery Express. I have to say I never expected to get a mystery train event, but I’ll take it. I think it’s a good theme and I like Hugo’s story. I haven’t read any of the other stories because I don’t care about them and I don’t have Klaus’ yet.

We got Joel’s sequel! His main route early bird is still running, so we’re getting like Double Joel. Or in my case, triple Joel since I’m transcribing his main route so. It’s Joel season y’all.

We also now have quite a few new features. After years of asking, we now have a greet all button. While I’m glad this is a thing since a lot of people are happy about it, I personally don’t use it because using greet all and then sending people messages for that extra 20 Lune is a nightmare. I did a time comparison using my personal account and then the one I use to screen record stuff for Ceragon Dubs, and if you use greet all and then go into your friend list to send messages it’s a lot longer. But it wasn’t as long as how much time I spent screen recording, logging in and out of facebook accounts, and video editing and breaking out my phone and screen recording that for a timer.

There’s also a new feature on consumable items. I mean, that’s the best way to describe it. So basically, there’s now a thing called limited time items. As the name suggests, they’re only available for about 15 days, and if you don’t use them in that time, they disappear. So far, we’ve seen this with Story Tickets and Muffins. I imagine it will probably go over to the other snack items, but I don’t know about the others consumables. Time will tell, I suppose.

FUTURE EVENTS/SPECULATION

Okay so since we’re now getting the next batch of sequels, if we’re going in the order of the poll, Hiro’s is next. That is all. Although I do think we're gonna get season 10 first. But yeah, Hiro's should be next. Sequel-wise, at least.

CALL AND RESPONSE

And now we have the long awaited response portion of call and response! Everyone’s favorite segment where I have no clue what I’m doing, I take shit from Love Live!, and I am met with the realization if I were an idol my call and response would be the worst because I can’t think of anything, which is why we make Love Live references. Ngl I feel like my call would be like “Who’s my favorite audience member?” and then the audience is like “me!” and I fake mishearing them and I’m like “memes?!” and then we all dab or some shit because that’s my brand. Dabbing at everything. Okay but yeah so. I asked you guys to rewrite character bios so. Let’s have some FUNNNNN.

Okay, and I sort have things in the correct places so I can just read them. I mean "sort of" because I have to go through DMs and stuff, but... Okay so our first one is from @nadia-the-wizardess. And hers is for Hugo which of course it is, I love you dude. So she submitted... And I'm not gonna try to be a complete ham. I'm gonna try and have some dignity while reading these. "Friend or foe? The masked man seemed to be at every turn, either helping us or using us to his advantage. He claims he has come from the future to help put us on the correct path and change our tragic destiny. We still don't know what Hugo is truly planning, but despite all this, I've decided to put my faith in him and join him in his journey through time and save his-- our future!" And then her sidenote, "(God I hope I did this right sbhdnsns)." You did! You are all good and I - you know I love Hugo, probably… well… probably just as much as you. Hugo is my best boy, so.

Okay, so. God, this segment is cursed. I… This is literally the fifth time I;ve tried recording this one little story because like my mic just keeps like cutting out. I need a brand new mic like this one is not cutting it anymore but anyway. So this call and response has a funny story behind it. So essentially like when I first get responses, I don't necessarily read them carefully at first, like I'm just kind of aware. Like “okay, like some.” So when I first did the call and response a while ago, um, I was vaguely aware that I had two and one was from Nadia and the other was from an anon. And so obviously like I push it back and then, uh, me and my friend have been chatting, who's not Nadia. That's the only identity clue I will give you cuz I'm not going to say who it is but um, *laughs* she's gonna be so mad though. So anyway, so me and my friend were talking and she was like, “Oh hey, I have a question so ‘theoretically’” in quotes, if she had sent a call and response answer to me like, would she have to make a new one or like whatever, like trying to figure out what's going on. And I said like honestly I’ll use whatever you give me because I do literally like whatever people spend in and I will use so it's a free-for-all, like I’ll use anything.

And then she told me that was good because she forgot what she, and I air quote this, “theoretically” sent. And I was like, “Well you”... This was before I checked my inbox cuz I was like, “Oh, I’ll just go in and like copy paste in and put in our chat. So I was just like “You could always ask me to send you things” like if you don't remember what you do - andthis goes for anyone. Like if you send a response by not DM by like inbox and you don't remember what you wrote like you can totally just message me and be like, “Hey I sent this, I don't remember how I worded it exactly I'm worried that I messed it up could you please tell me what it was” and like totally go ahead and do that like I don't mind. So then, you know, like I went into my inbox so I was like, “Okay let's see what she said” and um. This is what she said. “Call and response for Sigurd (Feat. Leslie) - Sigurd's the only student who can equally terrify the staff at Olive Garden along with Klaus. With his overbearing obsession and appetite for any sort of pasta, he's best known as Klaus' right-hand man when it comes to needing a bud for their 2 for $12 appetizer promotions.” Not sponsored by Olive Garden. “I hear even though he currently majors in Magical Creature Taming, rumor has it he'll be switching to Culinary Magic for... ‘Reasons.’ Personally, I'd rather not know,” Same. “but if you insist...*Shrug”

And anyway this is cursed and yeah, I can understand why my friend did not want to like, confront me about this. Oh God, RIP. We got through it, she's fine.

So our next one is from @uraminowaltz and she has two and they're both for Klaus because of course they are. I should just rename this segment to me roasting my friends. Okay, so her serious Klaus one is: “Likes: Tea, sweets, challenging games, cooking. Dislikes: Coffee, Zeus,” Girl me too. “Irresponsibility, abuse of authoritative power. Hobby: Cooking, inventing magical tools. Skills: Unintentional romantic gestures, endurance with magic, WORKAHOLIC.” Yeah I-I felt that. I felt that. So the joke one: “Likes: His giant personal ring of 500 different keys. Dislikes: Losing his keys.” Also same. “Hobby: Making copies of his keys. Skills: Losing his keys PLEASE HELP HIM FIND HIS KEYS HERE IS A CROWDFUNDING LINK TO FIND HIS KEYS IT'S FUNDED AT 60%.” Oh, Klaus. Klaus. Honestly though when they did the Klaus II profile and it was like, thing that worries him, uh, losing, uh, lost his keys I was like goddammit. Like it just… It was one of those things that I didn’t realize was on brand for him, but then once I read it and saw it, I was like “Oh God yeah yeah that's his brand that's his... poor baby, that's his brand.”

Okay so our second to- Actually, it might second-to-last I haven't checked the notes of that post so I guess I have to do that too. Okay so anyway, @sigurdcurtisholdsmegentle said… uh, did some, and you're going to be surprised who it was for. It was for Sigurd. So their joke one and they said… Their personal note for this was “Please actually kill me for this.” No I will not. You must atone for your sins. Uh... “Likes: Pasta. Dislikes: People who don't like pasta. Hobby: Naming spices in the pasta sauce. Skill: Cooking Pasta.” I'm very glad you did not put anything else because I would not want to read that out loud and that is NOT a challenge to anybody *laughs* So their serious one is: “Likes: Jazz music, Puns, The Rain, Make up.” Hell yeah. “Dislikes: His father, Himself, Ch… *laughs* CHICA,” I… We’re going for it. We’re going for the discourse and controvershy. The controversy. I can’t talk. Uh. Also dislikes “Blood. Hobby: Writing letters, Playing trumpet, Playing chess with Klaus. Skill: Decorating, Well timed exits, Running on little to no sleep.” Poor baby. But yeah I mean yeah. That's him. So the next one is... that they did was for Mel so it's “Likes: Apple cider, Plants, Perserving wildlife. Dislikes: Time Magic, Sol Felia,” It’s feh-lia not fee-lia, right? Like it’s not… I don’t feel like it’s fee-lia? I’m like pretty sure it’s feh-lia. Okay, it’s feh-lia now, I’m making the executive decision. It’s feh-lia now. Uh. “Oranges, Explaining.” God I felt that like whenever I reread Sigurd’s route, Mel's like “I don't want to explain” I’m like please shut up stop it like please, just explain. Good God. Like you're just making more trouble for yourself my dude. “Hobby: Sleeping in the greenhouse, Reading lore. Skill: Botany, Making wands, Flower” Oh my God, flower arrangements, that’s so cute. Oh my God, I love that actually. Like, I mean honestly like I liked all of them, but like that's so cute. That was super cute, I really like that one.

So, I don't think my call and response post had any notes. Except from people just liking it but I'm going to double-check cuz I'm not 100% sure.

Okay so it's time for our final call and response which will be my own. I literally have to bring up the my inspiration, my muse to *laughs* to do this. Okay so like, my whole inspiration for this prompt was the fact that like Azusa never got like an actual profile. Like it's all just question marks and um, we're going to fix that. And that's why I got the idea like, “oh that be really funny like everyone just rewrote things.” Let's go for the serious one first. That way I can do that and then I can goof. So my serious profile rewrite for Azusa and I did not write this beforehand, so… yeah! Let’s see… “Likes: his brother. Dislikes: hypocrites, himself.” Uh, that’s such a… *laughs*

That's such a mood. Every dude in this game is like self-loathing and some way. But I mean that's just how people are so I mean I guess it's not actually like that much of a stretch. But anyway. “Hobby… ………” Uh. You know, it's bad that I can't think of anything not just because like, I can't think of anything, but because he's one of my favorites and I'm like, “does he even have hobbies” like I'm not - I'm sure he does but I mean… “Hobby: telling Randy to shut up” I don't know. Uh, “Skill: onmyojutsu” just because we're basic and that was our serious one. And now for the fun one.

Um…. okay so, “Likes: his family. Dislikes: people. Hobby: ……….. you know. Skill: being a jackass” I don't know. I'm not even going to try and improv a description. Oh, poor Azusa. Although I do wonder if- when he gets a sequel, I wonder if that… I wonder if they’re gonna, like, continue making the, you know, kinda like additional info thing or if we’re gonna get like, a real profile for- Okay like, okay. I would be so fucking mad if like once he gets his sequel and they put like his like, um, like second profile thing and it's literally just all *laughs* it’s all question marks. I would be so fucking mad. I’d be like “come on PLEASE. PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO US.” Okay anyways, so that was call and response. Thank you guys for coming on this journey with me. Um, that was fraught with recording problems and I'm not looking forward to transcribing this, but sometimes you just got to do what you got to do.

ROUTE REVIEW

All right, so it’s time to review Sigurd’s route. His route had come out a bit before I started playing, and I vaguely remember getting a notification about it, but honestly I don’t remember too much about it. I was playing Yukiya at the time and while I thought Sigurd was cute, I was too lost in the Yukiya sauce to do anything but Yukiya-related stuff.

It honestly took me a while to play Sigurd’s route, like i played it for the first time last year, and like. I just genuinely enjoy Sigurd so much. Like he’s such a funny guy and so sweet. Falling in love with a guy like that just feels natural. And the story handled it super well too. The story balances plot and romance very well and they feel very cohesive.

The plot was really solid, with enough ends left to get resolved in Mel’s route. But then again, I’m very partial to this mystery series and no, I’m not just saying that bc I cosplay sol maiden!Liz. It’s a good story idea, bront. Not to mention there’s like, a lot of fluff in Sigurd’s. I mean it absolutely has upsetting moments, but it’s just. Okay like I don’t mean to get on a soapbox or whatever, but it’s just. I feel like my culture gets inundated with these images of cishet relationships where men don’t treasure their partners. I acknowledge it’s toxic and it’s a serious problem and all, trust me this sort of thing is something I’ve taken enough classes on to consider it an unofficial minor, but like I’M SO TIRED OF SEEING THESE CISHET MEN BE JERKS TO THEIR CISHET GIRLFRIENDS. Like really, we’re gonna romanticize a dude being a jerk to his girlfriend and not show the repercussions of this sort of behavior and act like it’s normal? Really? That’s what we’re gonna do? So like any media that portrays a guy as being loving and smitten and affectionate with his partner is just. That’s so refreshing and so WONDERFUL like I eat that stuff UP. Like it’s so clear Sigurd is so taken with the MC and it’s just like hot chocolate on a cold day.

So yeah the plot’s good and Sigurd is just. Wonderful. But I also love how much lore we got in this route. We got country names, continent names, what sort of extra curriculars the academy has. Even some Goldstein lore. In my opinion, the best routes usually have some hella cool lore details and this route had a lot.

And this is a minor thing but. As someone who was raised with their cousins and stuff, they just nailed the cousin interactions between Klaus and Sigurd. I have a cousin who, as of now actually since birthdays, is the same age as me, although usually I’m older. My cousin and I mess with each other all the time and he bullies me constantly. I’m just kidding, I’m definitely the Sigurd to his Klaus. And like Sigurd and Klaus, we actually play a lot of games together, or play the same game at once. We’re both really into video games and his latest hobby is bullying my brand new Fire Emblem husband Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. But in all seriousness, the game handled then well and the only way they could’ve made it more realistic is if they kept poking each other and making weird noises at each other. I mean, do you REALLY have a cousin if you don’t greet them by screeching like a pterodactyl?

Typing this all out makes me realize how weird my cousin and I are.

Okay but anyway. This route is very good and Sigurd is just an absolute doll. I highly recommend reading.

BYE BYE!

And that’s it for us today!! Thank you guys for tuning in this week. I’m sorry this episode is late. I was going to record it yesterday but something happened and basically made me give up on doing anything I wanted to do yesterday. But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this episode and hopefully next episode will be on time!! With that, have a great week! This is Mari, signing off.

#wizardess heart #shall we date wizardess heart #wizardess heart+#shall we date wizardess

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afictionaladventure16 · 6 years ago

Text

Side Effects May Include (Tony Stark x Daughter)

Part 7

Side Effects May Include (Masterlist)

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Word Count: 1,650

Credit to gif owners!!!

~~ Nurse Daniela’s POV ~~

I watched as she walked into the bathroom, I had no clue what I was going to do. I took in a deep breath and looked out into the hallway from the window, noticing Arlette walking down the hall with another doctor. “Bingo!” I quietly said to myself. I knew exactly what to do, I grabbed the cup and informed Olivia that she had to pee in it. Poor girl, I knew exactly what she was going through.

A few minutes later she walked out, completely dazed as she set the cup for me on the table. She sat back down on the examining bed without saying a word.

I wrote down some more notes, “I had a burning feeling when I peed.”

This poor girl was raped and didn’t even know it. She probably did, she was just denying the fact that it happened. That’s what a lot of us girls do, we deny it because we always think it could never happen to us… but it has. It has and when it did we just deny it because it’s just so much… so much to take in.

“I’ve spoken to a doctor on call, she’s agreed to keep this silent, she’s going to come in a few minutes to get you an exam…” I walked over to her, I wanted to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but I was afraid of her reaction. “None of this is your fault, Olivia,” I said silently, “I have to go put in the paperwork, but I’ll be back.” As soon as I was out of the room, I ran towards where Arlette was heading.

Spotting her red-brown hair, I couldn’t help but smile, “Arlette!” She quickly turned around and smiled, she said something to the doctor next to her and then walked over to me.

“Someone is happy to see me,” She said as soon as I got to her.

"Come here!" I said as I pushed her into the janitor’s closet.

"I knew you were kinky, Daniela, but I didn't think you'd want to do it in here."

I rolled my eyes, "this is serious, Arlette, I need your help." She noticed the look in my eyes, there wasn't any playfulness there.

"What's wrong?"

"I need your help hiding a patient and her records."

She quickly shook her head, "do you know how illegal that is, Daniela?"

"Yes, but trust me, this girl needs this information kept from being leaked to the public."

"How come? What makes her so special?"

"the fact that she is Tony Starks, Daughter."

She sighs, "that's the only reason? The guy already gets so many freebies in his life."

"Come on, Arlette, you don't know the full story..." she stayed silent.

"No," she said softly.

I sighed, "too bad, I already told her you'd do it."

"Goddammit, Daniela! Then what is this all about! Why are you asking me if you already told her!? You have to tell her it's a no-go!”

"Because she was raped for Christ sakes! And we both know that if a journalist or some damn paparazzi see her here, they'll go to the head of the department and we know damn well the head of the department doesn't give a shit if they see a good price! We know damn well they don't care about any patient’s privacy if there is someone willing to pay to look into their records! The last thing this girl needs is waking up tomorrow morning with her photo on every news media out there with the news that something so..." I didn't know the right words to say it, humiliating? What would you call it? If someone had raped you, leaving you to your thoughts... "unbearable had happened to you. Something that you should've been in control of telling the whole damn world... IT's the last thing she needs on her plate, Arlette. I don't care what her father has done, that's his thing, not hers."

She sighed, placing her head in her hands, "fuck!" she looks up at me, "and what if she decides to go public? She’s a minor, we both know we should be reporting this to the authorities, even her parents!”

"Then we'll give her-her records, simple as that and we both know that the authorities will do the same thing as the head of the department of this hospital. We both know what people are capable of doing for money."

"You know if she takes her rapist to court, they're going to find out what we did. One way or another they're going to put the pieces together, what then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm not letting you take the fall for this."

"I'm not asking for your permission to let me take the fall, Arlette. This is on me, all you knew was that you had to go give a patient an exam and that's it. Everything else is on me."

“I can’t let you do that, Daniela.”

“I know you can’t, but you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

She stood silent, we both knew I wasn’t backing down this, we both knew I was going to take the fall whether she liked it or not. That’s just who I was. I helped others who probably didn’t deserve it and I never asked for anything in return. Truth is, I didn’t care what happened to me, I could be fired but that’s okay, I hate this place anyway. I could never work another day in my life, but I’d have her by my side, might be foolish of me to say that but I don’t care; not at the moment.

She walked over to me, placing her hands on my waist, pulling me closer, “this is one of the reasons why I fell in love with you, the way you care for others, you go out of your way just to help those who don’t help you… I hate to see you take the fall for this but you’re stubborn and no matter how much I will plead, you will still do it so I’m going to stand by you with this even though I don’t agree with you.”

“We’re going to argue a lot, aren’t we?”

She chuckled slightly, “probably, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know,” I smiled and gave her a small peck on the lips, “I owe you, big time.”

“Hell yeah, you do. Now, what room is this patient in?” She asked as she opened the door.

“Room 207,” I said as she gave me a smirk. “I’ll be over in a bit.”

~~ Olivia’s POV ~~

I heard a soft knock on the door, “come in,” I said softly.

A woman who looked around her mid-thirties popped her head in and smiled, “Hello, I am Dr. Alvarez, I heard you will be needing an exam for the um… the rape kit.” She walked over to the paperwork set on the table and looked through it, “how are you feeling so far?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know.” She nods, “Any previous medical conditions? Medications?”

She began to ask more questions about my medical history, like how doctors usually do during a routine check-up, I answered no to most of them.

“Alright,” she finished writing something down, looking up at me, “this is one of the difficult parts.”

Just then Nurse Daniela walked in, she smiled at me, she made me feel more at ease about the situation, “I was just wondering if you needed anything, doctor.”

Dr. Alvarez shook her head, “no, I think we’re fine.”

“Actually,” I blurted out before Daniela walked out, “if you don’t mind staying?”

She glanced at Dr. Alvarez who gave her a small nod, Daniela walked over to me. Standing by my side.

“Okay, back to what I was saying… I need to exactly what happened.”

I felt my eyes begin to sting, “I know, it’s difficult to process it all over again but it’s a crucial part of doing these kits.”

I shook my head, “I-I don’t remember.”

“Did you drink anything? Any alcoholic beverages?”

I quickly shook my head, “no, I had a coke throughout the party.”

“Did you leave it unattended?” I shook my head once more, “no…” that’s when it hit me, “Oh my gosh. Bren, h-he took long to get me a refill.”

“Bren?” Daniela asked.

“A guy at the party, he offered to get me a refill for my coke but he took longer than expected about fifteen minutes.”

Dr. Alvarez sighed, “you did get a sample of her urine, correct?” She asked Daniela.

Daniela nods, “we’ll get the results from the lab in ten days, I’ll make sure to stay on top of that.”

“Make sure to put the name under Jane Doe, for now.” I looked at both, confused, “What’s going on?”

Daniela sighed, “in order to protect your identity, we have to hide all of your documents, including the tests that have been sent to the lab.” They both went out of their way, for me to have some sort of privacy here.

“This part of the exam is going to be… it’s going to be a lot. I will take photos for evidence, strands of hair, I will be giving you a full body examination and at any point, you feel you just need to stop for a bit; I want you to let me know. I would also like to ask your permission to collect your undergarments for the kit.”

“my undergarments? But, I don’t have any spare clothes.”

“I can find you something in the lost and found,” Daniela spoke up, “but I recommend you do, you don’t know how much evidence could be there.”

I looked over at Dr. Alvarez giving her a small nod, “Alright then, let’s continue with the exam.”

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missblissy · 6 years ago

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Title: Homeless at Home Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: fanfiction, chapters, angst, reader insert, fluff, slow burn, friends-to-lovers, pre-game Characters: Young!Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Mathews, Arthur Morgan/ Reader, Female reader, Arthur x Reader, Arthur Morgan x Reader, Arthur/ You, Young!reader Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Follow me on AO3!! Read it there too!

(( Here is chapter 6!! Enjoy the fluff and love while it lasts!! Nothing but pure angst is instore for the next few chapters!!))

Description:

He leaned down and picked up the dead rabbit and let out a high pitched whistle, “That’s the goal, ain’t it?” It was, but it felt wrong. Was this what it would feel like to kill? To take a life? What would it feel like to take a human life? Arthur’s spotted horse had trotted up to him and he tied the rabbit down to his saddle, “Come on,” He ushered you along.

But you stood there, looking at the pool of blood left behind, the way the light reflected off it and the dirt soaked it up, “Have you ever killed someone, Arthur?”

_________________________________________

“Arthur!”

“Yep?”

“Get those bags in that wagon for me, will ya?”

You looked up at Dutch as he pointed and barked order for Arthur to follow. Man, you’d hating being him. You had just got off the train, and made it to Dodge. According to the letter that Hosea sent back, he’d be about a mile out of town at a place called Fortunes Hollow. Which so happened to be a small shallow cave beside a lake. You were excited to finally call a new place home, and to meet this Hosea and Susan that Dutch talked so much about.

While Arthur was busy with the hard labor, Dutch looked down to you and smiled slightly, “We’ve got a few minutes to spare, why don’t we check out some stores, my little lady?”

You giggled and nodded your head, “Okay!” You rolled up the sleeves on your shirt and wiggled your hands at your belt, it was still a little odd to be in boy clothes all the time. But you far more enjoyed it than being in a dress, especially in the hot dusty town in the middle of a desert.

Dutch offered you his hand and you kindly took it, following him off the station steps and into the quiet cattle ranch town. The place smelled old and musty, and the waves of dust that the wind blew up didn’t help.

The town wasn’t much to look at, it had two main roads, then a bunch of cattle barns scattered around. While walking down the main drag, you saw a little shop window that read ‘Book Store.’ You tugged quickly on Dutch’s hand with joy bubbling up, “Look!” There was something you learned about Dutch over these last few weeks, you both shared a deep love of reading, “We can buy some books if we want!”

He seemed just as impressed. Not to often did you see a store that just sold books. He rubbed his chin then pulled at the corner of his mustache, “Want to take a look inside?” There had to be something good in there.

“Yes! Please!”

Dutch laughed at your giddiness and took you inside. The doorbell jingled and you’re eyes adjusted to the darkness within. It smelled so much nicer in there. The old smell of books greeted your nose and you took in a deep breath. Wow…

The shop wasn’t too big and it was cute enough to convince you that you just had to stay here a moment longer. While you went on over to the walls filled with books, eyeing them to see if any of them caught your interests, Dutch walked himself to the front counter. You listened to him speak to the woman standing there.

She was tall, about as tall as Dutch, and very busty. You glanced at the woman and she flashed you a simple smile. She was very pretty. Her deep dark red hair curled wildly like a fire in every direction. She didn’t even try to tame it. Her skin was pale and covered in a hundred million freckles. The woman most certainly caught Dutch’s interest.

You learned quickly that Dutch was a woman’s kind of man. Smooth, tall, handsome, and well worded. He loved women, and loved talking to them. You’ve already experienced many of his lovers over the course of this trip. His tactic was very simple. He approached them with a smile, he’d say something nice, he’d ask them some question then so sweetly ask for their name.

Just as expected, Dutch leaned on the front counter, casually resting on his arm, “Hello,” He smiled.

“Hello sir,” The woman smiled back. She was definitely interested. Gross. You looked away and walk further into the little shabby store, fingering through books that caught your interest. The woman spoke again, “How can I help you?”

Dutch let out a little low chuckle, “I was hoping I could help you?” Hook. Line. And?

She giggled behind her hand, “Oh my,” Sinker. She flashed her pretty little blue eyes at him, “What would I need help with?”

God, you wanted to barf. You just couldn’t understand what it was like to flirt with someone, or why adults did it so much.

“You tell me, miss,” Dutch leaned closer, “I can do anything you like.” Gross!!

This woman was smart, a lot smarter than Dutch’s usual choice of women. She chuckled quick then became rather serious, “You can buy something. I’d love to have your money in my hands.” You could tell she took Dutch by surprise.

He laughed, low and thunderous, he laughed for what felt like hours. He wiped away a tear and shook his head, “You’ve got a one-track mind, miss,” He then turned around, looking for you within the store, “(Y/N),” he called, “Pick out something nice,”

You already had a book in your hands that you wanted. It was another fairy tale, this one about a warrior queen who ruled over an island of women. It was called Jungle Hunt. You skipped over, happy to be able to leave with something. You were too short to even reach the top of the counter… You were already pretty short for a 12-year-old anyway. You slapped the little green book up on the counter, standing on your tippy toes watching the woman put your book in a bag and take the money from Dutch’s hand.

“Your daughter has a good taste in books,” She said. You wanted to correct her, tell her you were just an orphan girl, but Dutch laughed.

“Thank you, she gets it from me,” Goddammit, “What’s your name, miss?”

She slid the bag back towards you, and stubbornly and begrudgingly you took it. As you huffed and puffed, disliking being a pawn in the battle of the sexes, you heard the woman laugh and say, “My name is Annabelle, it’s so nice to meet you.”

_____________________________________________________________________

When you first got to Fortune’s Hollow, it truly was hollow. There was a series of rock pillars and indents in the cliff side. You found a little shallow cave back there, with a wide and flashy pond beside it. When Dutch pulled the wagon up, he called out for the two people you’ve heard so much about over the past few weeks.

Arthur was right. You immediately guessed who was who. Just as Arthur said, Hosea was a snooty rat looking man with hair so blonde, it almost looked white. He dressed as though he was some kind of state’s men. Classy, while still country. The other one must have been Susan. Again, Arthur was absolutely right, she looked like a raven that would sit perched on your window, staring at you with judgment. She was pretty though, plump and tall with her hair as black as night, twisted up and behind her head. While everyone was happy to see each other, sharing stories, you found yourself feeling alone and uncomfortable. You started to greatly miss your family. Sure, Hosea and

Susan was nice, they greeted you with smiles and shook your hand. They had a tent already pitched and waiting for you, they were so kind to a little stranger like you. The even invited you to sit down with them and eat. Sitting there by the fire on some logs made you feel small and alone. You couldn’t join there laughter or glee. You sat there quietly, trying your best to be invisible.

As the days went by, you opened up to them more. Arthur was the only one you could see your self confiding in. He woke you up every morning, throwing some sort of clothes at you while you laid on the little cot bed you had. Your tent wasn’t much, but it gave you some sense of privacy. He’d say something like, “Rise and shine, ass face, time to work,” or, “Get the hell up, monkey breath. We got chores to do.”

And chores you did. You’ve never had to do chores before, besides the regular days your mother would ask you to clean your room. But to your surprise, no one chastised you or was frustrated at your lack of knowledge on how to do some of the most basic things.

Your days started off with Susan. She’d teach you how to cook food. Mostly stews, and how to grill things over an open flame. She was a bit bossy but mostly harmless.

“How do you know to flip it over?” You were watching her cook some chunks of rabbit meat. She took a knife out, stabbed the juicy little steak and then flipped it over on the grill.

She hummed, “You don’t. Not really,” She flipped two other bits of meat, “It depends on what kind of meat it is, depends on how hot the fire burns,” Was cooking really that simple? “Mostly you just want to cook the blood away. Make the meat crispy on the outside, tender and pink on the inside,” “How do you know what it looks like on the inside?” You asked, thankful she didn’t get irritated by all the questions.

Susan glanced at you and flashed a little, kind smile, “You cut it open,” She took her knife and sliced the meat in half. Just like she said, it was slightly pink inside, just enough to see it's contrasted against the grey and brown of the cooked meat. You started to cook on your own after that, and cooking for others. You were actually very good for a kid.

Another one of your chores was doing laundry. You didn’t mind, Susan helped you with that too. Normally by the time it was noon, Hosea and Dutch would return from whatever escapades they were on. They’d always bring back some kind of money or valuables and chuck them away into a chest in Dutch’s tent. This was also around when you did the next chore of your day.

Hosea would take you and Arthur to go hunting. Not that you could really do that much, but Hosea was by far the most eager of all of them to teach you. He was a natural born teacher, he was kind and understanding, and encouraged you to face your fears. That first fear was holding a gun.

He put his hands on your shoulders, and squared them out, “Remember to breathe, okay?” You nodded your head as you lifted the gun, “And keep both your eyes open,” It was scary, to say the least. You held the weapon in your hand that took your parent's life. But Dutch had a point, he said you were old enough to learn how to defend yourself.

He reminded you that though this gang was your home, they wouldn’t always be there to save you. Sometimes you just had to save yourself.

Arthur was standing a few yards away, leaning on a large dusty tan rock with his arms crossed. You looked to him for encouragement, and he gave you that half little smile he always did and nodded his head.

“Okay,” You whispered to yourself, “You can do this,” The scary part was firing the god damn gun. Hosea stood behind you, hands firm on your shoulders as you pulled the trigger and felt the gun jump back at you. There were some bottles down the ways on a rock, you didn’t hit a single one. The second the smoke cleared you looked back at Hosea, “I didn’t hit anything,” You sounded ready to give up.

“That’s fine,” He smiled at you and ruffled up your hair with his hand, “Try again. You’ve got this, (Y/N). Don’t worry about being good, just learn your aim and you can improve from there.”

You shot the gun three more times before you finally blew a bottle to smithereens, “I did it! Oh my god! I hit it!! Hosea! I hit it!!” You started smiling wide and beaming up at the older man.

Just as elated as you, Hosea returned your smile with a cheeky grin all his own, “There you go, girl! I told you that you’d get it,” He ruffled your hair again, something that became a habit of his, and you both stared at Arthur, expecting him to chime in.

The young cowboy smirked and you felt yourself swell with pride, “One day maybe you’ll be as good as Dutch,”

“Maybe- I wish!”

Eventually, you started actually hunting with Hosea and Arthur. Took about several weeks, but you finally made your first kill. It was a rabbit you spotted and shot dead on sight. You definitely were getting better with your aim, just like Hosea said you would. You stood over top the dead rabbit, feeling sick to your stomach. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear Arthur approach.

“What’s wrong?”

You felt like crying. You killed that animal. It didn’t feel good. Even if you needed it for food, “I killed it…” Your voice was low and laced with a depression Arthur recognized.

But you stood there, looking at the pool of blood left behind, the way the light reflected off it and the dirt soaked it up, “Have you ever killed someone, Arthur?”

The question took him by surprise. He stopped halfway between getting on his saddle, put his foot back down to the ground and walked over to you. He put his large hand on your head and eased you to look up at him, “Sure” he didn’t hide the truth from you, “We have,” he spoke for the rest of the gang.

Your nose crinkled, your eyes were heavy, “Does it hurt? Killing someone?” You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your head. You were a little sad when he took it away and stepped back.

“It did. At first,” He sounded like he was about to tell a story, but he went back to his horse. He saddled up then held out a hand for you. You didn’t know how to ride a horse yet, nor did you have one. When you sat tight and snug behind him, Arthur cleared his throat and kept talking, “In this world, (Y/N), you gotta be strong. You gotta be quick.

We live in times where it’s either you… or the guy trying to kill you. I’d rather it be him than you.”

“But he’s a person too.”

“He is,” Arthur spurred his horse to a quick trot, “He’s got a family, he’s got friends. He’s got feelings,” Arthur paused just long enough for you to but in.

“I don’t want to kill someone though… My mother always told me to be kind. She wanted to save people, heal them, make them better-” It was now Arthur’s turn to cut you off, but he did so in a way that wasn’t rude or belittling, “You have to close your heart to them, and to anyone that ain’t friendly. Sure… You can do all those things, but do it to your own, your people, your kind.”

“My kind?” You were confused and a little tired. Killing sure takes a lot of energy out of you. You snug close to Arthur, leaning on his back and resting your cheek between his shoulders. He didn’t seem at all to mind you, it was a regular thing for you to be clinging on the older teen, he’d gotten use to it at this point.

“Yeah, us. Dutch- Hosea and Susan. Maybe that-” Arthur paused to clear his throat and his voice had an irritated tone to it, “Maybe that Annabelle soon too- Anyways. I’m talking about the gang. We look out for our own, and others like us.”

“You mean like….? Other outlaws?”

Arthur internally flinched at the word. He hated being called an outlaw. He didn’t feel like one. But you were right to some extent, “Yeah, simple folk, mostly. I trust an outlaw more than I trust a rich man.”

You were getting very tired there, cuddling up to Arthur’s warm back. The sun was setting, and it got so damn cold in the desert at night, “My mother was a rich man’s daughter. My grandpa was a doctor and my mother wanted to be one too. He ran a hospital in New York City. My whole family was rich. My mother told me how much she hated that part of her family. But she still took their money. So… I was a rich person once. You trust me, don’t you?”

The low chuckle vibrated from his chest and to his back, you could feel him speak, “Yes. I do. But you ain’t rich no more.” No. No you were not.

“Would you still trust me if I was?”

Another little chuckle. What was so funny? Who honestly knew. Arthur steered his stallion across the land, he spotted Hosea up the ways, “Always.” His words made you smile, they made you feel a lot better too. Arthur had that way to him, and you were thankful he was so kind to you, and that he actually cared about you, just like the rest of them.

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redfoxwritesstuff · 6 years ago

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Medicine

I’ll be fully honest, I’m not a Marvel nerd. I enjoy the movies but I have gaps, some I haven’t seen due to being broke. I just love all the hot ass sassy men, mkay? It’s been almost 3 years since I’ve written anything, let’s see what happens, shall we?

Summery: Doctor Reiko Martin is a world leading Diagnostician, the youngest in her field. Daughter of Doctor Paul Martin, she was always in a shadow. When she gets a 4am call from Doctor Stephen Strange, she want’s nothing more then to ignore the man. However, he will not be ignored and insists that he needs her. Maybe this is her chance to be the better Doctor. Maybe this is her chance to be more then just a Doctor.

Stephen Strange x OFC

Series Warnings: Language, illness, possibly future smut.

Chapter 1

Dr. Reiko Martin glanced at the chart in front of her. Pass, a simple case of phenomena was hardly worth her time. The chart below it belonged to a old woman with chronic kidney stones. Boring. Borning. Borning. Most of the cases that came to her desk were just that, boring.

Her father was a legend in the field. The Doctor Martin, master diagnostician regarded around the world as second to none. He spared no penny in his daughter's education. Private tutors, long hours and constant drilling. It all paid off, she was second in her field until the day he died. The anniversary of his death was quick approaching and she couldn't help but find herself feeling reflective. It lead to her being antsy and short tempered, more then usual at least.

She didn't cry at his funeral. She didn't feel any sadness at his passing, not really. She didn't really feel anything when he passed, not even relief. Maybe, she should have felt joy at finally having freedom? He would no longer be pushing her to excel. She was in her late twenties and her life hardly lived. Graduating High School early with college credits already under her belt, she was pushed ever onward.

With her father's support and constant pushing, she took as many classes as she could, flying through her college work and soaring though Medical School, an unstoppable force. Many were envious of her, oh how they wished they had someone like her father in their back pocket. His support was believed to have been amazing. They were sure she worked hard to make him proud

Only when she began her residency did her world begin to slow down. She stopped being the star and started being tested. The attending physicians wanted to break the star student, to stump her and knock her down a few pegs. It was a time she truly loved. An ego in a young doctor could be deadly for a patient. They never found a fault in her. Maybe that was ultimately her fault.

Father's lectures were never far from mind. Her specialty- Diagnostics, just like him. She was interested in surgery but alas, as she was always reminded a surgeon is only as good as their hands. She was young now, her hands steady and sure but any number of things could take that from her. It was better to go with diagnostics, something prized, something that she could continue even as she grew old and gray. All she needed was her mind. She didn't need to be a part of the boy's club in the Surgical Theater.

Sometimes she wonders “what if”, but quickly puts those thoughts out of mind. Regrets were useless. A waste of time.

With a sigh she closes the chart. Maybe she would find something tomorrow. The hospital director wants her to take more cases in house, or else she could expect to be ordered to be on loan to another hospital or worse, increase her clinic hours. Spending time helping with colds, coughs and broken bones at the walk in clinic that served to decrease minor visits to the hospital ER were not something she liked.

Her most recent patient would be discharging at the end of the week into a inpatient psychical therapy program. It was an interesting case of a hidden brain tumor. The surgeon reporting finding teeth inside the mass. How fascinating. Or at least it would be to someone else. She'd seen it before. Most things she'd seen before.

With a sigh, she turned off the light in her office. Her life was boring. Her cases were boring. Her home, boring. So why bother going home? She didn't see a good reason to bother with the trip and so plopped herself down on the couch. At the very least, her office was a step up from the call rooms from her residency days.

She drifted off into the embrace of sleep. One more day down. If she gave herself a moment to think, she would likely wonder what she could have in her life. Would she find love? Have a family? Did she even have friends? As long as she kept herself busy, as long as she kept looking for the next case, the next challenge, she can ignore those pesky thoughts.

It didn't matter. The world was over populated. Love was over rated. The only thing that mattered was the next puzzle.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Ringing attempted to drag her from the depths of her sleep. It wasn't her pager. It wasn't her night on call. She was groggy, tired. What time is it? She slapped at her phone, rejecting the call. With a glance at the window she saw it was dark outside. Still night. Good.

She was just descending into sleep again when the infernal ringing started again.

“Fuck off” she drawled and declined the call again without even opening her eyes.

Off on the other side of the country a man she had known years ago growled in his own frustration. Goddammit, he was just trying to help an acquaintance and Martin wasn't even answering. Again her voice, cold and flat on the voicemail. He slammed the end button and just as quickly hit call again, redialing her number.

She was like him. That's not true, she was like how he was before. Cold, indifferent. One could offer her all the money in the world and she wouldn't take the case. It had to be just right, it had to catch her attention. If he could just get her to answer, he could sell her on the case.

Voicemail. Again. What damn Doctor doesn't answer their phone?! Again, he listened to the ringing. Behind him his...friend? Acquaintance perhaps was a more correct term, paced.

Across the country, Dr. Martin finally roused. Whoever it was calling had better have a good reason. She groped blindly at her phone, wincing at the bright light of the screen, displaying the name and number of the caller, 'Dr. S. Strange'. The phone went dead in her hand and she breathed a sigh, thinking maybe, just maybe she would get back to sleep.

The joke was on her however as after the briefest of moments, it began singing her it's song yet again. She saw 12 missed calls and assumed they were all from this man. Why on earth he would be calling her was the question. They hadn't gotten on well nor had they spoken in at least a year, maybe as much as four years. It was hard to say, they would often see each other in passing at medical events.

“What do you want?” Her voice didn't sound nearly as harsh as she had intended, more tired then anything. Without waiting for his answer, she pulled the phone from her face, glancing at the time. “It's 4AM, go away”, she snapped, cutting off the voice on the other side as he had just started speaking.

He and her father had a history. Years ago when Strange was just a resident, her father was an attending physician. Father would talk of that time as if Dr. Strange was his shinning star. In reality, the man likely gave the young Doctor a hellish time. Father never really cared for surgeons, they were the Jocks of the hospital. She assumed she inherited that view, they did always annoy her. They never did have a puzzle, the path was nearly always put forth for them. Just jocks doing as they are told. Even one as renowned as Dr. Strange wasn't immune to the hospital cliques.

He wasted no time with pleasantries, none on “hello”s or “how are you”s. Rather, the first thing he said was, “Martin, I have a case for you.”

He never did call her “Dr. Martin” outside of formal hospital events, unless in front of patients. Rarely, had they ever shared a patient. It always irked her. He was just another doctor to dismiss her. She was both young and a woman. Medicine was still very much a boy's club and even with the female medical staff, she didn't fit because of her age.

“Call back in the morning.” She snapped and disconnected the call. Before she even had the phone out of her hand, he was calling again. She answered, sighing in defeat and glancing at the analog clock on the wall. “You have 4 minutes. Time starts now.”

“Female, age 46, admitted four days ago with high BP, aches and fever over 104. Sores present on extremities and mouth. Patient presents with extreme fatigue and isn't retaining new information well.” Behind him, the patient's fiance glared at Strange, not feeling comfortable with the cold and clinical way his fiancee was being spoken about.

“Recent travel?” Reiko hadn't even bothered to move from her position lounging on the couch.

“Extensively within the last 90 days.” She sat up. The possibilities could be endless with extensive travel.

“Labs?”

“Depressed but mostly within normal range. Whatever this is, it acts both viral and bacterial, yet beyond the fever there is minimal immune response. Supportive treatment has slowed the progression but beyond that, treatments tried have been ineffective.”

“You are no longer practicing.” He had hoped that she wouldn't point that out.

“No, the patient is a... acquaintance of mine, you can say.”

“Mm-hmm,” likely story. She knew his reputation. Women had been in and out of his bed on a revolving door for as long as she could remember. “Have her Doctor send me her chart.”

Swiftly she stood and made her way to the computer. Within a few seconds, the ping went off in her ear. “That was fast, considering.”

“I may not be practicing but I still have sway.” Age, reputation and experience granted him that much.

She didn't really offer much of a response but he could hear the clicking away of her keyboard. In the background, she could hear a man talking to Dr. Strange.

“Just wait, give her time.” His voice was muffled, clearly not speaking to her.

Someone was clearly not appreciating the wait. Page after page of lab results, treatment plans, patient history all flashed across her screen. She dismissed some pages with little more then a glance, others she read in detail. Patient Potts has lost weight, regardless of effort to prevent it. She was failing to retain liquids and solids both for more then a few minutes at a time.

GI tract appeared normal, yet nourishment and fluids introduced via feeding tube caused immense pain and bloating. Interesting. Labs appeared mostly in normal ranges.

“I'll take it. Proceed to have her transferred.”

“No. She's not stable enough to travel,”

“Good luck, then.” She was bluffing. If she could get leave from her hospital and be loaned out, she could travel. With a few keystrokes she pulled up flights while she let him simmer. She could hear background talking but paid it no mind. May as well play hard to get.

She'd be looking at 5-8 hours travel time, including a possible layover to get to New York. Plus time in the airport and delays. Let's face it- there are always delays. In a short moment she was up out of her chair and on her way out of her office, cellphone held to her ear.

“Come to New York to treat her.” Doctors had a way of making questions into statements. It seemed as if Strange hadn't lost the talent with his career.

“Talk to the Chief, I'm on my way to do the same and touch base.” With that, the call was disconnected, thankfully to not ring again. He knew he had her.

#stephen strange #dr strange #dr strange x oc #fanfic #oh god its been forever #i actually posted something #guess I can't lurk forever #my therapist made me do it #i think i still have it #Off to a decent start

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aftermathdb · 6 years ago

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DEATH BATTLE Review: Samurai Jack vs. Afro Samurai.

WARNING: The following review contains screenshots of large amounts of blood and gore. Please continue at your own discretion.

This battle has been a long time coming. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that this is the first time a character that was owned by Cartoon Network has entered the fray, making this unique in more ways than one. Can the Time-Displaced Warrior defeat The Number 1 Samurai? - We find out in a clash of blades.

Personally, I’m excited to use Jack in the story.

So, this is the second time a character from American animation has fought a character from Japanese animation. I’m not linking to the first one because of reasons.

Jack′s Preview.

I’m pretty sure that the usage of the original opening makes this all the better for the fans of Samurai Jack. Even calling Aku opening a time portal a ‘bitch move’ was pretty hilarious. Especially when Boomstick says “Me” instead of “Him.” There’s just so much to laugh at here, that it’s just hilarious.

Then we get into his training, and that’s when we see all the badass stuff.

(Because of course they have to mention “Jumping Good).

Regardless, Jack’s stats are very impressive. And his blade is just as so. Being forged by not one, not two, but three different gods- Jack’s katana is just plain cool. The fact that those gods all come from different pantheons makes it all the more badass to boot.

Even lampshading that Adamantium (at least the Marvel version) shouldn’t be there, Jack’s feats are super impressive. Like the way of how he jumps good. I had no idea that the boulder he wore was nearly forty tons. You learn something new every day.

I mean, with a resume like that, I think Afro really doesn’t stand much of a chance. “Dibs on Jack for my Basketball team” indeed.

Kinda dissapointed that they never mentioned that off a few technicalities (Like lacking a master, and disobeying certain orders), Jack falls under the category of Ronin. Didn’t even put it in a notecard.

And to be honest, I had completely forgotten about that “Who else wants some” line.

Afro′s Preview.

If these guys were trying to get people invested in the Afro Samurai series, I’d say they did a pretty good job. I’d say that if you enjoy something like Berserk, you’ll enjoy Afro Samurai.

Anyways, they go over the sacred headbands first. Talking about their legend, and the supposed powers they bring. But a notecard and some explanation quickly dispenses any notion that there’s any real power to be held by them.

(”An overhyped strip of cloth…” I had a petty comment about a certain American comic character’s fanbase, but making a comment like that is beneath me).

Tangent aside, Afro’s background has some fair similarities with Jack’s. Like…

Not knowing their real name. Seriously?- What is up with that? Do all great samurais on a quest share this trait?

The background for the headbands is pretty cool too. Showcasing both the benefits and the burdens of each. But, there’s really no actual benefit, and it seems to rely on just the honor system. Quick question!- What’s stopping someone from just stealing the Number 1 headband?- Or just creating a replica of it?

And Boomstick brings up a good point here. The hardest part about being a parent in these types of stories seems to be staying alive, rather than… anything else really.

And I have to agree with the weird naming system they have. Next thing you tell me, is that this series has a series of brothers that are numbered [Link]……… goddammit.

And then there’s how he killed Sword Master, and befriended Ninja Ninja… The original point about the naming still stands. Though, given how unhelpful he (Ninja Ninja) is, I doubt that he’ll be of any use in the fight.

Even the blade and arsenal he wields is impressive. And that Perfect Parry technique sounds similar to that parry move that Ryu has. And it seems like he likes fighting dirty. Which is probably going to be the only real thing he has against Jack.

OH! And for some reason, they give Afro the descriptor of Ronin, but not Jack. That just feels like being cheated out of something.

And his resume… Okay, that laser feat, assassin defeat time, and strength are really the only ones that are impressive. At least, when compared to Jack surviving a fall from space. Pretty sure that one feat beats any of Afro’s.

I’m no expert in this series, but his end line… It’s pretty badass.

The Battle Itself.

Luis (Who did Leon vs. Frank and was on the team that did Strange vs. Fate) is hand animating this entirely with some help from Jerky, making this the second DEATH BATTLE that is completely hand animated (The first being Smokey vs. McGruff). Jack will have the voice of Kanji Tang while Afro will be voiced by Devante’ Johnson, music is called Watch out, Samurai! (Youtube link not available at the moment) and is done by Therewolf, and lead audio is by Chris Kokkinios with the help of Philip Spann (No twitter handle available, so here’s his facebook).

So, the story is that… They smell the blood on the other’s blade, and decide to duke it out. I’m not sure if that was the intent, so I’m guessing there’s really no story at all. The voice actors are just there to say some interesting lines. But regardless of that, look at this beautiful hand-drawn animation!

Seriously though, this is your last chance to turn back. The screenshots get more bloody and violent as the battle progresses.

That’s some freaking nice art right there. And it really helps with the battle, considering that just using sprites would probably not work as well as it could.

So the two start fighting, and are capable of parrying most strikes. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Wait! I thought that Jack’s blade couldn’t harm innocent people! Why can it hurt Afro?” And to that I say, “Afro’s an innocent man?- The dude killed his master all because he had the Number 2 headband!”

We also see Afro’s dirty fighting in action, as he uses his cigarette to temporarily blind Jack. But, it doesn’t work as well as it would in most situations. An earlier notecard revealed that Jack could dodge arrows based on sound, so it’s not likely that Afro could deal damage based on that.

In fact, here it is:

The battle rages on until the rope bridge they’re on turns vertical, and Jack falls to his demise- I’m kidding. He jumps back up. Afro even comments on it. It’s a nice little touch considering that most opponents just assumed that people who can Jump Good are capable of flight. The reactions are rather humorous too.

And we also see that neither are leaving the battle unscathed, as Afro manages to get in some good strikes, and then Jack returns the favor.

(Look at that expression. That feels like it could have come straight out of the show).

So, as we can see, Afro manages to disarm Jack, and Jack manages to return the favor.

And in true Samurai Jack fashion, the blade cuts the rest of the bridge.

And then after an intense strike from above, Afro once again, manages to disarm Jack… Literally this time.

(Yeah, that’s not something you’d see in seasons 1-4).

But no need to worry (Unless you were rooting for Afro), Jack, once again, manages to return the favor and then some.

Yeah… That blood and gore warning wasn’t kidding.

Finishing blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

So, with Jack sporting the Rad Spencer look (without the bionic arm) and Afro looking like Jax (without the bionic arms), Jack finishes off his opponent in a brutal fashion that wouldn’t be out of place in Afro’s series.

(Neat little detail: Jack is wearing the headband that Afro used to wear).

Verdict + Explanation.

So, yeah. Jack’s stats just… They just outclass Afro’s. That’s just… Yeah. I think a lot of people were expecting that, but probably also expected it to be a stomp in Jack’s favor. He didn’t come out unscathed, and I’d say that’s probably a bone to be thrown to the Afro fans. They show some amount of respect toward each other, and I can appreciate that.

Overall impression.

Rundown: Cool and informative.

Animation: Beautiful.

Explanation: Really solid.

Rating: 9.2/10. It’s not as long as something like Strange vs. Fate, but it’s still a really awesome episode, and it’s a really good one too.

Next Time…

This looks like it’s going to get bloody…

… I’m going to need that “Blood and Gore” warning for this one too, huh?

If uh… If anyone wants to help out in regards to Lucy’s character, that would be spectacular.

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Cassidy vs. Lucy. It’s not a creative name, but it rhymes.

#screwattack #review #Death Battle #Deathbattle #tw: blood #tw: gore #gore warning #blood warning

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darveyfics · 7 years ago

Text

snow storm sex by the fire

harvey and donna having sex on the floor next to his fireplace in his apartment because they wanted to try something traditionally romantic, and while they’re laying there cuddling, harvey is fidgeting and donna is like “your back hurts doesn’t it” and makes fun of him

A/N: This takes place before Paula, before Donna went to work for Louis. Also combined this prompt with one from the m rated darvey blog.

“Melting Point”

“Goddammit, Harvey.”

Donna throws her phone on his couch with a frustrated sigh, her hands coming up rub at her temples as the familiar waves of a migraine starts to form. That had been the fifth time she’s called him in the last hour, and each time it went straight to voicemail. She hadn’t thought much of it at first, figuring he might’ve left his phone in his office, or was busy talking to a client, except… that’s why she was there.

They had argued earlier, nothing monumental by their standards, but still, there had been some yelling. Harvey wanted to acquire a new client, some hot shot CEO from Boston, but on the contingency that he give up one of the firm’s most loyal clients, who just happened to be on the opposing end of said hot shot’s spectrum. Donna had warned him that losing one loyal client just to claim a bigger one would only do more harm than good, tarnishing the firm’s reputation in the process. Unsurprisingly, however, he had placed his ego above her advice, telling her he knew what the hell he was doing.

So, in a moment of bitterness over her boss, she had stormed out of his office, leaving the warmth of Pearson Specter to face the freezing New York winter. She had only stuck around longer to see if she could change his mind, but when he made it clear he didn’t want to heed her words, she thought it best to let him be, irritation pulling at her seams.

But, with the idea of him possibly undermining everything Jessica had worked for in all her years working there gnawing at her, Donna made a rash decision. There was a good chance Harvey would be pissed at her, yet the idea didn’t flounder her plans. With her head held high and her copy of his keys, she had made her way to his apartment, deciding it was best that she confront him again before this went south.

He wouldn’t make any settlements tonight, that much she was certain. It required a pre-imposed formal meeting, and it had already been nearing eight when she arrived at his place.

But now, it was nearing nine thirty. She had called the office when he had repeatedly failed to answer his phone, coming in contact with Louis who was the last one at the firm, telling her Harvey had left half an hour before, soon after she had. The thought disturbed her, despite the fact that she knew traffic would be horrific, seeing as how the snow was picking up. Still, she had called Ray right after she ended her call with Louis, surprised to hear that her boss’ driver had been granted the night off.

Donna feels her hands shaking out of their own accord then, and she hugs her sweater clad body to herself. She gazes out into the span of his large windows, noticing that the city had been covered in a blanket of white. With Harvey’s impending deal looming over her, she had practically forgotten all about the blizzard that was supposed to pass that night. Sure, it had been snowing all day, but nothing out of the norm of a heavy snow season. Now, however, the storm was starting to pick up and Harvey still wasn’t home, and he wasn’t answering his calls, and she was on the verge of a full blown breakdown.

Just as she was about to grab her phone from the couch, a possible futile plan of trying to call him again forming in her mind, the door to his condo opened.

“Harvey?” She speaks his name on a reflex, hope and anger and relief rolled into the word alone.

Donna frowns when she gets no answer, veering further into his hallway to see his form staggering into his apartment, onyx coat now sheathed in white.

“Oh my God, Harvey, did you walk here?” Her hazel eyes are wide as she takes him in- his usual upright posture hunched over, shivering through the space of his loft.

“D- Donna? W- What the hell are you d- doing here?” His teeth chatter through his words, forehead knit in confusion as he finally notices her presence.

“I came over to- Jesus, Harvey, you’re going to catch hypothermia if you don’t get out of those clothes.” She steps into him then, a frown still etched onto her face.

“W- what are you doing?” He nearly falters back when she tries removing his coat and she purses her lips at his stand-offish stature.

“I’m trying to save your ass before you freeze to death, now stand still so I can take this thing off.” She relaxes only slightly when he follows her orders, and she’s surprised when he lets her take the soaked coat off of him. Though, she doubts he could’ve attempted the simple act due to the fact that he was nearly frozen in place.

She eyes him warily as she unbuttons his winter coat, his lips tinted with a slight blue hue and his nose and cheeks still red from the cold weather. The worry she had felt when he hadn’t returned her phone calls is replaced with a mixture of concern over his well-being and agitation for being a goddamn idiot.

“You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking walking through the North Pole?” Her voice is steady when she speaks, taking the now soaked coat and hanging it on the coat rack near the door.

“I wanted to get some air,” he mumbles sheepishly under her gaze, his normal color slowly returning to his features.

Donna snorts, crossing her arms, “You got that in spades, that’s for sure. You didn’t think that getting a ride in the middle of an impending blizzard would’ve been, oh I don’t know, a little less insane?”

Harvey lets out a sigh, moving past her to head deeper into his apartment, Donna following after him, “I gave Ray the night off,” he shrugs, turning to face her when he reaches the kitchen island.

“Well, that’s a bullshit excuse if I’ve ever heard one,” she eyes his sudden nonchalant demeanor and she feels herself growing more agitated with him by the second, “I called you five times and each time it went straight to voicemail, I called the office and Louis said you had left, and then I called Ray and he told me you gave him the night off. I was worried, Harvey.”

He eyes her for a moment, her eyes wide and face flushed with anger. His lips quirk slightly then, head cocking to the right, “You were worried about me?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Harvey,” her arms fall to her sides, an exasperated breath leaving her as she breaks their gaze, shaking her head.

He sighs in defeat, running his hand through his flake covered hair, “My phone died and I decided to walk home tonight, I completely forgot about the storm. Didn’t realize until I was halfway here and it started snowing harder. What?” Harvey asks her when she only continues to fix him with a stare.

“You never walk home, Harvey, or at least you rarely do. You want to fill in the blanks for me?” He suddenly feels himself shrinking under her steady gaze, shifting on the spot.

“I- wanted some time to think.”

“About?”

Harvey sighs, “The case,” when she opens her mouth to speak, her puts his hand up, “I thought about what you said after you left and, I kind of felt like a dick for what I had said.”

She lifts an eyebrow at him, “Kind of?”

“Don’t push it,” her lips quirk into a smirk before he continues, “Like I was saying, I thought about what you said and decided to walk home and… ponder it a bit more,” he shrugs, and she almost rolls her eyes at his uncanny ability to make everything seem like it was no big deal.

“And what conclusion did you come to? You know, besides the realization that you’re not a penguin?”

“I realized… that you may have been… right about the whole thing,” he finishes quietly, his hand tracing invisible patterns on his countertop as he looks up at her shyly.

“I’m sorry, one more time, I didn’t quite catch that,” she places her hand to her ear, her head tilting in his direction.

“Donna,”

“I’m waiting, Harvey,” she stubbornly stays in place, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“I’m- sorry, okay? You were right.”

Her posture straightens before him then, an all too pleased smile playing on her lips, “See? Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Harvey rolls his eyes, the hint of a smile playing on his features in spite, “I’m gonna go change now.”

He starts heading in the direction of his bedroom, turning just before he reaches the sliding doors, “Oh, and Donna?”

“Yes, Harvey?”

“Were you really worried about me?” That smug smile returns ten-fold and Donna shakes her head, cursing herself when her lips curl up out of their own accord.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

She’s met by that shit-eating grin that makes her stomach flip, and she bites her lip to prevent herself from falling further under his charms.

He disappears through the sliding doors of his bedroom, and Donna busies herself by checking her emails on her phone, trying to ignore the lingering thought that her best friend was currently changing out of his clothes a mere couple feet away.

“Well don’t you look fresh and primped,” she teases when he comes out of his bedroom minutes later, clad in a Harvard Law sweater and a pair of gray sweatpants.

“It’s casual Friday,” Harvey shrugs with a cheeky smile, walking over to where she sat on his couch.

“It’s Thursday,” she corrects with a smirk.

Harvey rolls his eyes, “You always feel the need to correct me?”

“Whenever you’re wrong, yes.”

He shakes his head at her antics, a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

“So… I should get going,” Donna quietly states after a beat, standing up from his couch with a sigh.

“What? No, you can’t.” He quickly stands up, following her as she makes her way to his kitchen island to grab her purse.

“It’s late, Harvey, you don’t need a babysitter,” she chuckles.

“Donna, it’s the North Pole out there,” he echoes her words from earlier, pointing to his windows displaying the blanket of snow covering the city.

“It’s fine, Harvey, I’m not walking, remember?” She shoots him a teasing look, eyeing his flustered demeanor with amusement.

“Donna, still, you can’t- the roads are going to be a nightmare, you can barely see anything outside… just… stay,” Harvey fumbles out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, stay here.”

She studies him for a moment, and despite his slightly uncomfortable stature, his eyes are genuine and she tries to tamper down that familiar fluttering in her stomach.

“Where would I sleep?” She challenges him, raising an eyebrow.

“In my room, I’ll take the couch,” Harvey shrugs.

Donna scoffs a laugh, “With your back? No, thanks, I don’t want to hear you whining about your back pains for the next month. Try again.”

His lips thin at her jab, irked at her stubbornness, “Fine, then,” he hesitates for a moment, trying to string together his next thought carefully, “We can just... sleep in my bed.”

Donna’s mouth drops, the words echoing in her mind making her heart stutter, “We?”

Harvey nods, “We.”

“As in- us- together? You and I?”

“Donna,”

“Harvey,” she counters. They face off in a stare contest, daring the other to break first.

“Donna, just take the bed,” Harvey finally sighs, slight irritation etched into his voice when she smirks at him.

“Harvey,” her face straightens then, her voice growing serious, “Are you sure about this?”

“What’s there to be sure about?” His hands shove into the pockets of his sweats, swaying on the ball of his feet.

“You don’t think it’ll be… weird?”

Harvey shrugs, “No, you’re- my friend. You need a place to crash and I’m offering my bed.”

Donna chews on her lip in thought, studying him. She always thought she had an uncanny ability to read people- Harvey being one of them. Yet, at this moment she couldn’t tell if he genuinely thought that them sharing a bed wouldn’t be weird, considering they’ve barely shared physical contact in the last decade- not after the other time. It was either that or her acting skills have rubbed off on him.

Finally, she sighs, peeking behind his shoulder to gaze out into the night, flurries of snow whirling around, “Fine, but,” she points a finger in his direction, “if you so much as snore or hog the sheets so help me God, I’m going to arrange for you and Louis to go mudding together.”

Harvey’s grin drops, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” she challenges, turning around to head into his bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?” He inquires in confusion, trying not to focus on the way her hips sway in the black pants she wore.

“I’m going to steal your clothes, Harvey. I’m not sleeping in this.” His lips twitch at her words, watching as she gives him a teasing look before closing his door.

He glances around his mostly quiet apartment, gazing out into the large floor to ceiling windows, watching the blizzard with an odd sense of calm. It’s then that he feels a sudden chill, the remnants of being out in the storm earlier coming back like a literal splash of ice water. Yeah, that was stupid, he thinks, shaking his head at himself. But he hadn’t been thinking lately, too absorbed in acquiring a new client, a big client, that he didn’t let himself ponder the possibility of what it would do to jeopardize the firm and his relationship with Jessica. And then Donna’s words kept echoing in his mind, as per usual, her voice playing a mantra as he left work earlier that night.

“If you could just take a moment to take your head out of your ass long enough to see how wrong this is, maybe you could realize what a shit move you’re pulling if you go along with this deal.”

He hadn’t remembered that there was supposed to be a blizzard hitting that night, not when the pressure to do what was right for the firm was nagging at him, not when the image of seeing Donna’s look of hurt and disappointment in him kept replaying in his mind like a horror film. So, he had taken a walk, wanting to take the time to clear his thoughts before he made a decision. But before he could pat himself on the back for his moment of self-growth and actualization, his hands had turned numb and the snow was picking up, and suddenly it was a race to his apartment before he turned into a popsicle.

Harvey sighs, a shiver running through him as the temperature around him seemed to drop at the memory alone. He walks over to his fireplace, cursing himself for not thinking of turning it on sooner with the tundra weather they were facing. His shoulders relax as soon as the orange flames come to life, the warmth emitting from them immediately thawing his body.

He turns to face his bedroom then, swallowing as the fact that Donna was in there changing into his clothes hits him in full. He shakes his head, trying to shake off the thoughts alongside as well. You’re venturing into dangerous territory, his mind warns him. And yet, images of her creamy peach skin sliding into one of his sweaters and pants filters through his mind, the thoughts involuntarily and all-consuming.

His jaw clenches as those images take residence in his conscious for a while, the sudden need to take a cold shower, or fling himself outside into the freezing cold, runs through him all at once. Sighing to himself, he heads into his kitchen, needing to busy himself with something other than the thoughts he was having over his friend. Friend. That’s what he had told her, he reminds himself as he reaches into the cupboards to grab two mugs, gathering the ingredients for what he planned to make. And that’s what she was- Donna Paulsen was his friend and colleague, that’s it.

Yet, as he turns on the stove, waiting for milk in the stainless steel pot to heat up, a plaguing thought nags at his very core. He turns to glance at his closed bedroom, a sudden tightness and fluttering against his chest making it harder for him to breathe.

Then why does it feel like they were a hell of a lot more.

Meanwhile

Donna chews on her lip, gazing around his room with a sudden trepidation. It was- a little weird. Sure, she was the one who helped him pick this apartment in the place, had helped him decorate and move, and she’s visited on a number of occasions, so being in his bedroom shouldn’t feel so odd. And yet… there was something different about tonight, something about the way they were suddenly facing the fact that she had to stay over, sleep in his bed… with him… Not to mention the fact that it was snowing outside like they were in the middle of the arctic, the night still and quiet yet filled with so much of what she couldn’t deny to be some sort of palpable tension.

And she couldn’t quite understand why- it wasn’t as if they hadn’t hung out before, hell it wouldn’t even be the first time she’s stayed at his apartment. Though the first time, when her place was being fumigated and he refused to let her stay at a hotel instead of crashing at his place for free, he had been out on a business trip, so she hadn’t had to deal with his constant presence. Tonight, however, they would be sharing a bed, for the first time since-

She shakes her head, heaving out a sigh as she starts rummaging through the drawer where she knew he kept his most casual clothes. Harvey was a creature of habit, kind of OCD if anyone asked her, so she knew from memory where he had kept them- being as she had watched him once some years back, taking out a sweater from said drawer she was looking through now.

Donna finds a pair of similar gray sweats to the one he was wearing now, figuring those would fit her the best out of the array of pants she found. A low laugh escapes her when she comes across another sweater, this one a faded gray with the name of a high school baseball team written across the front in red letters. Donna bites her lip in thought then, running through the possible ramifications of her donning this very sweater.

“Oh, screw it,” she sighs into the room, ramming the drawer closed with her hip as she moves to his bed. She places his clothes on the mattress as she takes off her own, her heart suddenly beating rapidly for reasons she starts to repress.

Harvey hears the door to his bedroom sliding open and stops pouring their drinks to turn and face her, “Well, doesn’t someone look-”

“Don’t,” Donna warns, pointing a figure at him.

His cheeky grin widens, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.” He takes a moment to take her in- clad in a pair of his gray sweatpants, folded a couple of times at the waist to fit her slim form, his slightly smaller high school baseball sweater hugging her close. But, what really did him in were her sock clad feet, and her light copper hair twisted in a messy bun. She looked younger, freer, lighter.

“I know you,” his secretary shoots back, settling down on one of the island’s stools, “And you’re a dick so I really don’t want to hear it.”

He sends her a smirk, pointing to his sweater, “Where’d you find that anyway?”

“Oh, this? Stashed in the back of your closet, right next to your porn collection.”

Harvey shakes his head at her antics, “I haven’t worn that thing since my senior year.”

“Oh, please tell me you have pictures,” Donna perks up, her eyes bright and hopeful.

Harvey scoffs, “Like I’d ever put you in that position of power. You’d use those pictures to blackmail me.”

Her eyes widen with a faux innocence, “I would never.”

“Uh huh,”

“I’m serious.”

“Right, besides, I don’t have any pictures of myself wearing that,” Harvey shrugs, turning around to continue pouring their drinks

“Why? Ooh, did you give it your girlfriend to wear? Like some Bye Bye Birdie going steady type of thing? Getting pinned by Harvey Specter by getting to wear his team sweater?” Donna teases.

Harvey turns his head around, “You’re shameless.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” she raises her eyebrows in a challenge.

His lips quirk, “I never gave it to a girlfriend to wear. You’d be the first.”

She knows she shouldn’t be affected by his admission, knows that it doesn’t mean anything. She did just stumble across it while she was raiding his drawer, and only chose to wear it to tease him. Yet, the way his eyes had crinkled when he told her she was the first made her heart stutter and her stomach do that flip she was starting to get annoyed with.

With no comeback to strike with, Donna hugs her body close to herself, trying to will those butterflies to settle. It’s only then that she realizes he’s been working on something, his back facing her as the clinks of spoons against glass meets her ears.

“What are you making?” She tries to peek around him, but comes up empty when his broad form blocks whatever it is he’s busying himself with.

Harvey doesn’t answer her, however, silently finishing up before he finally turns around.

Her eyebrows raise when she sees him, a sly smile on his face and a mug of something steaming in each hand.

“Hot chocolate,” he states proudly, settling her blue porcelain mug in front of her.

“Uh, Harvey, I’m not twelve,” she tells him with a teasing smile.

“Okay, fine,” He moves to take the mug back, but her hand stops him.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” she lifts the mug to her face, smelling the concoction he made, “This smells… interesting.”

“It’s spiked,” he smirks.

“With that? Oh God, don’t tell me it’s Macallan,” her nose scrunches up in disgust and horror.

Harvey scoffs, “I’m not a masochist, Donna,” he points behind him then, and her eyes follow to land on a bottle of liquor.

“Peppermint schnapps? I- can’t picture you buying peppermint schnapps?” Donna snorts with amusement.

Harvey rolls his eyes, “Mike left it here the last time he came over, okay?”

“And you decided to keep it? How thoughtful,” she places her hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture.

He shakes his head, “Just drink your chocolate, Donna.”

She gives him a look before she relents, lifting the mug to her lips.

“Wait! I almost forgot,” Harvey turns around then, picking up the can of whipped cream she somehow had failed to see. He sprays a good portion on her mug, before doing the same to his own- the white cream splayed in a perfect swirl on each.

Donna swallows, eyeing their mugs before trailing her vision up to his face, “Whipped cream?”

“What? Do you not like whipped cream?” He tilts his head at her, that self-satisfied smirk back on his face.

She licks her lips cautiously, taking a beat before answering in a voice too low, “I think you know how I feel about whipped cream.” They were venturing onto very dangerous territory here, she knew. Even so, she couldn’t help herself when she knew he was trying to bait her- the action surprising her, considering everything they had agreed to years ago, considering how he normally was with her every other day. She momentarily wonders if he had already taken a couple of shots of the peppermint schnapps. All the same, another thought enters her mind- did he always have whipped cream in store? Did he ever use it in- other ways with other- people? The unexpected wave of jealousy that takes over makes her grit her teeth, gripping the scalding mug harder in her hands.

“I bought it the other day,” Harvey begins softly, eyeing her with curiosity, “I normally don’t buy the stuff, but,” he shrugs then, moving around the counter with his own mug, “Got a sudden craving for it.”

His voice is too low when he turns to stand in front of her, and she swallows back a sudden lump in her throat. She curses him for somehow managing to read her mind and clarify his non-habitual whipped cream purchases. He’s suddenly too close to her, standing in front of her close enough for her to smell his cologne, something so familiarly Harvey that it nearly makes her breathing halter, her mind dizzying as the fumes hits her senses.

“Well,” Donna clears her throat, her gaze breaking from his own intense one to stare at the fireplace in the distance, “You should know this stuff isn’t good for you, it can, uh, become addicting,” she peers over him behind her mug, finally taking a sip of the hot beverage.

“Trust me, I know.” Harvey retorts quietly. He watches her taking a tentative drink, his hand tightening around his own mug when she lets out a low moan.

“Okay, this is by far the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had and I think I want to have its baby,” Harvey snorts at her words, his lips widening when he notices a dollop of whipped cream got smeared on her upper lip.

“What?” She inquires, eyeing him wearily.

“You’ve got a little,” he takes a step into her, his hand tentatively reaching out, wiping the offending white substance off her face.

Her body goes rigid at his touch, breath stilling as his thumb lingers on a little too long on her skin, his intense gaze never faltering from her own.

“There,” he tells her softly.

Her eyes are transfixed on his own, mouth slightly agape and skin buzzing by his touch. What the hell is he doing? They didn’t do this. They didn’t have sleepovers or tease each other to this extent, and they certainly don’t touch. Harvey seems to have realized what he did, his sudden demeanor going from smug to one of a dumbfounded daze. Suddenly, the room’s temperature seemed to have risen ten-fold, her cheeks warming under his gaze.

Donna’s the first to break eye contact, gazing off to stare at the dancing flames on his fireplace. She clears her throat, “Should we move to the uh-”

Harvey glances over to where she’s pointing to the living room, and clears his own throat, “Uh, yeah, sure,” they share a shy smile before they head over, Harvey sitting down on one of his leather chairs. His forehead creases when he notices her still standing, surveying the area with a frown on her face, “Is something wrong?”

“This isn’t going to work,” she states simply, eyes finally falling on him.

“What- isn’t going to work?” He eyes her curiously, the idea that he never knew what Donna Paulsen was thinking always somehow exciting and terrifying him all at once.

“The ambiance is all wrong,” she lets out a dramatic sigh, placing her unfinished drink on the coffee table before making a beeline to his bedroom.

“Ambiance…? Donna, what-”

“Hold your horses, mister, I’ll be right out and don’t you think about stealing my drink!” Her voice echoes back from somewhere deep inside his bedroom. Harvey rolls his eyes, sighing as he settles back further in his seat. He lets his lips curl up as he takes a slow sip from his own drink, shaking his head in amusement over the redhead currently invading his room for God knows what.

Harvey nearly spits out his drink when he sees her walking back out a few minutes later, her entire upper body hidden behind a mountain of blankets, sheets, and pillows.

“Donna what the hell- those are my good sheets, Donna,” Harvey scolds as he stands up, watching her make her way toward him.

“You have twenty pairs of the same white sheets, Harvey, I think you’ll live,” comes her muffled response. Donna lets out a sigh as she finally dumps the array of blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace, “There,” she looks up at him with a proud smile on her face.

“What- is this?” He gives that confused Harvey Specter look- the one he gets when she does something Donna-like and it takes him too long to catch up to her.

She rolls her eyes, squatting down to assemble the sheets in front of her, “I’m gonna make a fort.”

“A what?”

“Oh good grief,” she mumbles under her breath, rolling her eyes again as she realizes her joke went unnoticed by him, “I’m just trying to make things a little cozier here, okay? Your apartment’s basically a penguin habitat right now and I’d like to be closer to the fireplace while we warm up,” she gives him a nonchalant shrug and he briefly wonders if she thinks any of this feels normal to her when it feels like the complete opposite for him.

“O-kay,” he elongates the word, settling on the armrest of his leather chair as he watches her work to organize the sheets.

“You just going to sit there and not help?” She asks him without looking up.

“You’d just tell me I’m doing it wrong and to sit my ass down before I ruin your feng shui.”

Her lips quirk, knowing he was right, “Touché.” Donna continues to work in silence, folding the sheets to make them fit in the area just in front of the fireplace. She sets the thickest blanket on the bottom to cushion them, followed by two thinner white sheets and another blanket right on top, meticulously smoothing out any final creases before she sets the pillows resting against the bottom of his coffee table. “Okay, our little cozy haven.”

His lips widen at the way she looks up at him, eyes beaming in self satisfaction, “Geez, you think you got enough blankets to keep us warm for the rest of the winter season?”

She fixes him with a glare, “Funny,” she finally settles herself against the table, adjusting the pillow on her lower back and settling under the blanket before patting the space next to her, “Come on, it’s nice and toasty down here.”

His lips twitch in amusement, watching as she turns around to grab her hot chocolate, taking a sip from it. “Wait,” she stops him before he sits down, “it got cold, I need you to heat it up for me.” She extends her hand up to give him her mug, giving him a cheeky smile as he shakes his head, taking her mug.

“God, woman, you’re a lot of work, you know that?”

“What did you just say?” She retorts when he starts heading back to the kitchen.

“Nothing,” comes his quick response.

“Mhmm, just for that I’m keeping this sweater.”

“Seriously?” He calls back from the kitchen, waiting for her drink to heat up on the stove again.

“You think I’m kidding, but this baby’s coming home with me,” she affirms, hugging herself closer. She didn’t know if it was due to years of being stored deep in his drawer that made it so comfortable, but the snug fit of his sweater made her feel safe and content and warm. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it smelled like him, her mind suggested. She shook that thought out of her head, turning when she hears his footsteps approaching.

“Oh, I know you’re not kidding.” He extends his arm down, handing her her drink before settling himself down under the blanket next to her, his own drink in hand, “I had to redo the whipped cream,” he smirks at her.

She gazes at him from the corner of her eye, blowing into the mug before taking another sip. She hums when the sweet concoction meets her tongue, the tang from the peppermint schnapps complementing the chocolate perfectly, “You should make this more often,” she suggests, taking her finger and swiping it across the swirl of whipped cream, bringing it back to her lips.

Harvey’s eyes darken as she sucks her finger into her mouth, her gaze never faltering from his as she swallows the sweet topping.

“Well,” he clears his throat, shifting under the blankets uncomfortably, “Next time we’re snowed in, I’ll make sure of that,” he takes a sip of his own re-heated drink then, trying to focus on anything else but the image of her licking the whipped cream off her finger.

“Fine, just try not to get yourself nearly frozen to death next time,” she playfully bumps her shoulder with his.

Harvey carefully eyes her for a moment, watching as she takes another sip of her hot chocolate before she sets her own gaze on the flames in front of them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

She turns to look at him, a puzzled expression on her face, “For what?”

“For- making you worry. I know I teased you about it earlier, but if it had been the other way around, well, I would’ve nearly panicked.”

Her heart stutters against her chest for a moment, the sincerity in his words hitting her in full, “It’s okay,” she finally breathes out, giving him a warm smile, “You didn’t know I’d be here, waiting for you.”

“Still,” he bumps his shoulder against hers now, mirroring her earlier move, “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agrees with a chuckle.

His eyes bore through her own for a minute, watching the flames from the fire dancing in her hazel eyes. Just as quickly, she turns her head and he follows her gaze, watching her sock clad feet peeking from beneath the knitted blanket. He notices the gray pair held tiny snowflakes, smiling when he pictures her picking them out that morning, deciding to wear them underneath her boots.

“You know,” Donna begins then, playfully bumping her feet against his own, “you should really get a Christmas tree in here already.”

Harveys snorts, “I’ll make a mental note.”

She swats at his chest, “I’m serious, Harvey, we’re two weeks away from Christmas and you really need some holiday cheer in your life.”

Harvey hums into his mug, taking a sip before speaking, “I’m not really into this holiday, Donna.”

She frowns at his admission, already knowing this time of year was never highlight for him. Ever since his mom cheated on his dad, and then Gordon passed away… all he really had was Marcus and she knew that it wasn’t the same.

“You can’t play Scrooge forever, Harvey, you need to let some light in every once in a while.” He looks at her for a moment, her own features set in determination, a hint of sadness in her eyes. He wished he could tell her that she was the only light he ever really needed in his life, but felt the words trapped in his throat.

“What? You’re not going to pull a Jacob Marley on me, are you?” He decides to joke instead.

Donna tilts her head at him, telling him she wasn’t going to be baited into movie banter with him right now, “I’m serious, Harvey. You really want to be a Christmas grump for the rest of your life?”

“I’m not a grump,” he huffs.

She raises her eyebrows at him, “Oh, I beg to differ. Come on, it doesn’t even have to be a real tree,” she rolls her eyes, knowing he would probably let the thing die, “it could be a fake one and ooh! You could get a bunch of Christmas lights and put them on your balcony.”

“Donna,”

“And oh, you could buy some stockings and place them over the fire place,” the redhead beams in excitement.

His lips quirk at her child-like enthusiasm, “Do you want to decorate my apartment?”

Her eyes light up at his words, widening as ideas start forming in her mind on reflex, “Oh, if you so dare to put me in that position of power.”

His face falls, “I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Seriously?”

“Shouldn’t you know by now that I am always serious?” Harvey cocks his head to the side, watching her expectant gaze.

“Well…”

“Come on, Harvey, let me be the Cindy Lou Who to your Grinch,” she pleads, her body twisting to fully face him.

“I thought I was playing Scrooge in this scenario,” he smirks.

Donna rolls her eyes, “Listen, I don’t care what movie we’re in, just- let me do this for you, please. Let me bedazzle your holidays.”

Harvey scrunches up his nose, “Only if you don’t say bedazzle anymore.”

She chuckles, “Deal.”

“So… when do you plan on pulling a Christmas miracle on my apartment?” He asks after a beat.

“How about Saturday?”

“This Saturday?”

Donna rolls her eyes again, “Yes, preferably before the actual holiday comes, Harvey.”

“Okay, we can- start with a Christmas tree then?”

“Yeah, I can swing by in the morning and we can go on the hunt for one,” she gives him a content smile, still in semi-disbelief that he agreed to any of this.

“Okay, it’s a- date then.”

Her stomach flips at his words, watching a shy smile cross his features. Relax, that’s just a saying, he didn’t mean anything by it, don’t read too much into it.

“A- date?”

Brilliant, Donna.

“Well, not a date date, you know, a uh,” Harvey shifts in his place then, suddenly feeling like he was a subject under a microscope. He hadn’t thought much about what he had said, the words spilling out of him in reflex. It’s then that he turns to gaze at her, her head tilted to the side, an amused smile playing on her lips at his stuttering.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, taking a drink of his chocolate.

Donna chuckles beside him, mirroring his actions and taking a sip of her own.

“What?” Harvey inquires after a beat, noticing how she was biting her lip, as if to hold back laughter.

“You’ve uh, you’ve got some-” she motions to her own nose, signaling him whilst trying to not let the laughter burst out of her.

Harvey’s eyes comically widen for a split second, rolling his eyes in the next as he tries to wipe away the offending cream.

“No, you- you still have some-” Donna bites down on her lip harder, trying her best not to lose it at the way he only smeared more on his face.

“Okay, can you just do it because I can’t see it,” he huffs in annoyance.

Without him noticing, she discreetly swipes her finger into her own mug, collecting some whipped cream and placing a dollop on his nose, “There,” she snorts, “I got it,” her laughter suddenly booms across the quiet space, the way his eyes widening at her actions making her double over with mirth.

“Oh- you- you asked for it,” Harvey murmurs, sweeping some of the cream from his own mug when she wasn’t looking, seeing as how she was still doubled over in laughter, and waits for her to sit back up before smearing it across her face, the cream landing on half her nose and half her left cheek.

Donna gasps, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Hey, you started it,” Harvey defends, a smirk of his own now adorning his features.

She narrows her eyes at him, “If that’s how you really want to play, then,” Donna gathers some more whipped cream in her hand, this time utilizing four fingers to scoop some it and smudging the white substance across his face. Harvey closes his eyes on instinct, some of the cream blocking his vision.

He squints an eye open, catching her pink tongue peeking through her teeth, somehow still looking as beautiful as ever with her own sugary white paint on her face.

“What, Specter,” she raises her eyebrows in a challenge, “That all you got?”

His eyes darken at her jab, and in a flash move, he’s taken a handful of whipped cream, placing his mug off to the side as he leans over her, smirking when her eyes widen and she sets her mug down at lightning speed, lest they cause it to spill.

He’s on top of her in seconds, towering over her form as she struggles to keep his whipped cream laced hand away from her.

Donna gasps through bouts of giggles, “Harvey, I swear to God, if you-”

A small drop lands right on top of her nose, and she closes her eyes shut in reflex.

His laugh reverberates through her, his solid form just a few inches above her own body. She opens her eyes to watch his gleaming with mischief and pure unadulterated joy, her own hand still blocking his to prevent him from getting any more cream on her.

“You know you started this right?” Harvey teases, his voice growing deeper as he lowers himself, his lips a mere inches away from hers.

Donna swallows against her own will, his proximity suddenly making her head spin. “Yeah, because you’re a asshole,” she breathes against him.

He smirks, leaning down over her more, his voice just an octave lower than before, “You love it.”

Her eyes study his features under the dim light of his living room, the flames from the fire illuminating him in a soft orange glow. She takes note of the creases in his face, from the laugh lines beside his lips to the ones in the corner of his eyes, the crinkles signifying moments of joy. She’s too distracted by his intense gaze that she doesn’t notice her hand going slack against his. In a moment of weakness, she’s left defenseless when his hand is suddenly free, and without hesitating, he taints her pale cheek and part of her lips with the cream.

Donna gasps in surprise, the bold move catching her off guard, “You- jackass,” she breathes through a chuckle that leaves out of her own volition. Her chest suddenly shakes from more giggles, half horrified and half impressed that he really managed to get her.

“You’re looking a little pale, Donna, you sure you’re okay?” He jokes, prodding at the fact that her face was covered in the white sticky substance.

“I woudn’t be so quick to judge, hot shot,” Donna takes her now free hand to smear some of the whipped cream on his face, giggling when it covers the rest of his nose and his upper lip, “There, good enough to eat,” she smirks proudly.

Her words don’t sink in until she notices the way his pupils dilate, his own smirk fading only to be replaced by one hell of a serious stare. It’s only then that she realizes just how close they are, how his body has hers pinned down beneath him. Her breath quickens, oxygen becoming too great a need, her heart beating out of her chest, and yet… she didn’t feel trapped. Being under his gaze, his warm body looming over her own, she felt safe.

“Harvey,” his name falls from her lips on a whisper, their faces just four inches apart.

She notices his throat bobbing above her, his eyes shifting from her eyes to her lips and back again, “Donna,” his hand moves to tuck a strand of auburn hair now tinted with whipped cream behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek in the process.

“Harv-” her words are cut off by his lips on hers, the motion leaving her stunned in place, unmoving, not breathing.

He swallows her gasp instantaneously, his mouth suckling on her bottom lip with his tongue teasing her entrance. She grants him access with a sigh, her body relaxing when he angles his head against her, deepening their kiss. A low moan escapes her when he sucks on her tongue and she feels herself growing dizzy. He tastes like peppermint and dark chocolate, the flavors mixing and causing her to arch against him. His body seems to take that as a signal and he places himself flush against her, trapping her between him and the bed of sheets below her. Her hand rakes through his short strands, pulling him closer to her and she nearly loses it when she tastes the whipped cream on his lips. The sugary flavor that mixes with something so familiarly him takes her back to twelve years in the past- a night of giggles and gasps of pleasure filtering through her mind. She feels sudden tears prickling at her eyes at the memories that consume her, images of them passing a can of whipped cream between them pales to the memory of what he tasted like that night, exactly as he does so now.

Before Donna lets herself get lost in the taste of him, his lips trail down to her jaw and neck, sucking at her pulse point with a fervent need. She opens her eyes in a gasp, watching the flames from the fireplace dancing on the ceiling above her, his body hovering over her own.

“Harvey,” she manages to get out, a low whine escaping her when his teeth lightly scratch against her skin.

He only hums in response, his right hand sneaking its way under what is now her sweater, caressing her. She jerks into him when his fingers meet her stomach, his touch scalding her skin.

“Harvey, oh God, Harvey, wait-”

His movements cease at her words, and she whines in protest despite being the one to tell him to stop. He’s breathing heavily when he pulls back, his eyes nearly black in the dim light of the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I-” The realization of what he just did hits him like a ton of bricks, watching her half hooded eyes and her swollen lips, part of her face still smeared with whipped cream.

Donna holds him down when he tries getting up, her hands landing on his biceps.

“Donna, I-”

She places her finger against his lips, preventing him from speaking, “Me first,” she demands with no room for argument. She waits for him to nod before she places her hand on his arm again, watching him swallow back the panic she could see rising in him.

“You kissed me,” she states matter of factly.

Harvey nods dumbly, “And I’m-”

“Are you sorry you did it?” Donna watches him tilting his head in confusion, her words throwing him off for a second.

“I- Donna, I’m- well it’s you, and-“

“Harvey,” she interrupts his fumbling, her voice low and steady. She needs to hear him say it, needs to know what the hell it was that was running through his mind before he went running.

He sighs, his thumbs subconsciously caressing the skin under her shirt, “I’m sorry I kissed you… only if you didn’t want me to,” he clarifies softly.

Her lips curl slightly at his admission, that fluttering in her stomach returning, “And why would you think I didn’t want you to?”

Harvey bites his lip for a moment, hoping she couldn’t feel the way his heart was pounding against his chest, “Because of your rule.”

Oh. That.

Donna sighs against him, thinking back to over a decade ago when she had implemented that rule. Her left hand trails up his arm until it reaches the nape of his neck, scratching his skin lightly with her short nails, “Is that what’s kept you at arm’s length all these years?” She mumbles against him.

“Well, yeah,” he shifts above her then, trying not to let his full weight land on her.

Donna shakes her head, a low chuckle leaving her lips as the events of the night wash over her.

“What?” Harvey frowns in confusion.

“We’re a goddamn mess,” it’s then that she leans up, pulling him down to meet him in a bruising kiss.

He moans against her when she tugs at his bottom lip with her teeth, soothing the area with her tongue.

“Donna,” he breathes against her when her lips meet his mandible, sucking on the skin there, making his eyes flutter closed at her ministrations.

“Donna, wait,” she sighs when she pulls back from his lips, annoyed that he had to follow suit and interrupt their kiss too, “If we- if we do this, I don’t,” he swallows against that lump in his throat, “I don’t want it to be a one time thing. Not again.”

Her heart skips a beat at his words, and she curses against the cliché, but she knows that’s what his words caused her heart to do, “When did you get so mature?” She teases in a low voice, caressing his cheek with her hand.

He smirks down at her, three little words caught in his throat, “I just don’t want to lose you,” he confesses in a whisper.

A shuddering breath leaves her, and she pulls his face down to hers again, their lips barely touching, “You won’t,” she kisses him, “And it won’t be a one time thing,” before he can think twice about it, she’s wrapping her legs around him and flipping them around so she’s straddling him.

A low chuckle leaves her when he gasps in surprise, or pain, “You okay there?”

Harvey groans under her, his hands landing on her waist, “That depends on your definition of ‘okay’.”

Her lips quirk at him, reaching down to pull her sweater over her head, tossing it off to the side before leaning down to kiss him again. His arms are around her in an instant, pulling her down flush against him.

“Are you sure about this?” He mumbles against her skin, nipping at her jaw.

She rolls her hips over him, grinning when it causes him to groan against her, “I’m sure, Harvey, now stop talking and focus.” Detaching herself from him, she starts pulling up his own sweater, using his assistance to take off the offending material, tossing it off the side where it lands in front of the couch.

His hands are on her again, pulling the thinner sweater she wore over her head, leaving her in just a black laced bra. His breath hitches when he looks up at her, the messy bun she wore was now completely lose, whips of auburn hair cascading down her face. Her body was cast in a warm glow, illuminated by the flaming orange from his fireplace.

Harvey sits up then, leaning forward to place a kiss on her hip, “God, I need you.”

“Need?” She breathes out against his lips on her skin.

He hums against her, “Need… want…” he punctuates each word with a kiss to her stomach, trailing his kisses up until he reaches the valley between her breasts.

Donna holds his head in place, throwing her head back when he starts kissing the exposed skin above the black lace. She feels his hands snaking behind her, blindly unclasping her bra in a slow torture. His lips detach from her skin, eliciting a low whine from her as he peels the material off her body.

He sits back, holding onto her waist as he studies her, half exposed for him, “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice is a sweet whisper, his eyes roaming over her bare chest as he tries to count the freckles on her skin.

“Flattery will get you anywhere, my friend,” Donna teases, her lips curled into a smile, trying to tamper down the emotions bubbling in her at his words.

It’s then that Harvey leans closer, taking his hands to cup her breast, feeling the weight of them in his hands. Her body goes rigid when he swipes her hardened nipples with his thumbs, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as a low whine escapes her. His mouth closes over one then, using his teeth to gently tug before swiping his tongue across the peak, sucking on her breast as his other hand pays attention to her other.

“Shit, Harvey,” Donna pants, her eyes now closing as pleasure shoots straight through her, his ministrations making her feel lightheaded. His mouth switches places and she throws her head back when he tugs a little harder this time, feeling him grinning around her breast as a louder groan leaves her lips.

Before she descends to a pure state of nirvana, his lips disengage from her, his fingers running an up and down pattern on her skin, “You good?”

“Yeah,” she nods dumbly, “Just, hurry up now, will you?”

That smug grin returns to his lips, and she doesn’t know whether to slap or kiss it off. She decides on the latter, however, pushing him back down to the floor as her lips slant over his, her tongue immediately protruding through to play. It’s a mad dash then, the both of them working in tandem to rid each other of their remaining clothes. His shirt is the first to go, followed by his sweats and socks. Donna trails her nails down his bare chest, lightly scratching his abs, making his muscle contract in place. She then teases the edge of his boxers, inching closer to his hardness until she’s cupping him through the material, making him jerk against her.

She grins against him when he growls in response, trailing his own hands down her bare back until his fingers slide under the gray material of the sweats she wore. He pulls her down against him, the move making her grind down against him and he swallows her moan when his erection rubs against her.

In a failed attempt to rid her off her pants, he flips them over again, waisting no time to slide the sweats down her legs along with her own socks. He’s on her in a flash again, and their hands slide between them to finally rid each other of their remaining barriers.

His mouth finds a trail from her lips to her neck again, sliding his hand up her leg until it reaches the apex of her thigh, causing her legs to widen automatically. He teases her entrance slowly, testing her readiness as he slides a finger inside. A groan escapes her lips, her pelvis jerking up into his hand as he sinks another one in. Before she could retaliate and reach down to him, he’s sliding his fingers out and aligning himself with her, not being able to wait any longer.

“Oh shit, do I need-”

Donna shakes her head, her hand coming up to caress his cheek, “No, I got it covered,” she gives him a shy smile and he mirrors her, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss before parting again. Harvey hesitates for a moment then, looking down at her darkened hazel eyes, her swollen lips and messy auburn locks. He feels his throat constricting, the realization of what they were doing- what they were about to do dawning on him and he suddenly feels his eyes stinging. His hand comes up to caress her cheek, noticing some traces of whipped cream remained on her face and his lips curl at the image. She still looked as beautiful as ever, and those three little words were on the tip of his tongue again, begging to be let out. Still, the emotions were too great in him, so he swallows back the words and leans down to kiss her as he finally sinks inside.

Her breath hitches against his, the sensation of being connected to him again for the first time in over a decade overwhelming her. Donna grips onto his biceps, holding him in place as she adjusts to his size stretching her.

“You okay?” He whispers.

Donna nods, “Yeah, just, I need a moment.” Harvey nods in understanding, bringing his lips to her cheek to give her a kiss, trailing his lips down her skin, trying to keep as much contact with her as possible.

It’s not until she wraps her legs around him tighter, pulling him down even closer to her that he gets the signal, starting a slow thrust against her. His lips find hers again, still tasting the remnants of peppermint and chocolate on her tongue. He tries to keep a slow pace, tries to prolong their pleasure as much as possible, but it’s been twelve goddamn years, and she’s gasping out his name in between thrusts, her nails marking his skin as she clutches onto him, whispering for him to go faster, to go harder, and he can’t hold it anymore.

His thrusts quicken at her request, driving in deeper as she pulls him down further, her lips tugging against his own, parting when their breathing becomes rapid and frantic. Up until this point, her eyes had been closed, but when he feels her starting to contract around him, she opens her eyes and he nearly loses it at the sight of her watching him, watching her.

His name is a low sigh on her lips, a plea and a prayer all in one. Harvey takes the hint and slows down his thrusts before speeding up again, the change in pace driving her closer to the edge. He watches her throwing her head back then, bottom lip caught between her teeth as her back arches. The nails marking his back dig deeper into his skin, and he hisses in a mixture of pain and pleasure, her own groans starting to mix with his.

“Donna,” He breathes her name against her ear, and that’s all it takes for her to lose it, her body quivering beneath his as she moans out his name into the dark. Watching her come undone is enough to set him off then too, his thrusts becoming messier as he finally empties into her, her name still a low mantra on his lips.

Harvey doesn’t know how long they stay like that, wrapped around one another, his body molded over hers…. He opens his eyes to gaze down at her, her own closed, swollen lips parted slightly as her breathing begins to regulate. Without thinking about it, his lips meet her forehead, the soft kiss making her eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Donna reaches a hand out, touching her fingers to his lips in a near daze, “That was-”

“Don’t say it was a mistake.”

Her eyes shoot back up to his, wide and alarmed at his words, “No,” she makes sure to state firmly, “That was- I don’t regret this, Harvey. At all.”

He quietly nods in understanding and she feels her heart shattering for him. She had never regretted setting her rule all those years before, never thought that making sure they never crossed that line again was a mistake. And yet, in the years that followed, and more so recently, she kept wondering what if. What if she didn’t have that rule. What if they ever broke that rule again. But she never let herself go there, convincing herself that it was for the best that they kept a professional relationship. It wasn’t until tonight did she realize she never had the courage to break it, and he never came forward with the idea because she had set it, and all he ever wanted to do was do what she wanted. Make sure she was happy.

Now, she sees how scared he was- the very possible notion that she could backtrack and tell him they made a mistake crossing that line eating him up inside.

“No?” She bites her lip at the hope and surprise in his voice. This sudden shy Harvey Specter was something she didn’t think she could ever get used to.

Her hand comes up to caress his cheek, her thumb swiping away the remnants of whipped cream that had stayed in place, “Harvey I-” the words get caught in her throat and she sighs in frustration, “Harvey, I already told you- I’m in this. Not just for tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m just- trying to fathom all of this right now,” he laughs nervously, making her lips twitch in response.

“Yeah? And how’s that going for you?”

“Pretty sure I died and went to heaven,” her chuckle reverberates through him, the sound alone making him relax above her.

Harvey leans down to plant a kiss on the corner of her mouth, sliding out of her to curl up behind her. He pulls her body flush against him so her back is to his front, molding perfectly.

“You’re amazing,” he kisses her temple, letting his lips linger on the spot as she sighs in content.

“You weren’t too shabby yourself, Specter,” he can hear the smile in her voice as her hand lands on top of his own, making sure he keeps her nestled into him.

“Yeah? Better than our first time?” He whispers into her ear.

She shakes her head, smiling despite herself, “I’m not sure, you seemed to last longer last time.”

Harvey gawks at her, “Seriously?”

Donna shrugs, “Well, it’s true.”

He pulls her possibly closer against him then, growling into her ear, “Twelve goddamn years, Donna.”

She only chuckles in return, knowing full well she wouldn’t have lasted any longer than she did. The last couple of minutes washes over her then, and she shivers in response- the feeling of being wrapped around him, immersed in his touches and kisses making her hair stand on end.

“You cold?” He asks against her, shaking her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, just a little.” It’s only then that the chilled air hits her skin. Being wrapped up against him, their bodies creating their own heat, she hadn’t felt any less than warm and content. It was only until the realization of where they were and what they did and what they now were, did her skin erupt in goosebumps.

Harvey grabs the sheets that had been kicked off to the side and pulls it over them, only letting her upper back exposed. He finds himself trailing his fingers over her skin, lightly tracing them over her warm back.

“What’re you doing?” She mumbles quietly, and he briefly wonders if she was beginning to fall asleep.

“Just admiring your freckles,” he answers honestly, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to her back, the action and his words making her giggle.

“Seriously?”

“I love your freckles,” he states proudly, continuing to trace the constellation of speckles on her skin, illuminated by the still roaring fire behind them, “they make you… you.”

She can only hum in response, his voice and movements lulling her into a state of utter relaxation. It boggles her mind- how he can suddenly be this calm and sweet and just utterly hers that it makes her toes curl. She searches for his feet then, seeking more contact and warmth from him. When she finds them, she digs her toes under his, laughing when he nearly jerks in response, “What?”

“Your feet are cold,” he grumbles against her.

She turns her head to look at him, a smirk playing on her lips, “Tough.”

He swallows when her eyes meet his, the sudden gesture making his throat go dry, every emotion on the human spectrum bubbling up into him as her teasing gaze turns serious.

“What?” Donna inquires softly, her forehead knit in confusion.

The smell of her shampoo engulfs his senses then, the feel of her skin against his igniting something in him, and the words creep to the tip of his tongue, letting them finally rush out in a breath as easily as he could’ve hoped they would.

“I love you.”

She freezes. The words echo through her mind, she knows she heard him correctly, and yet-

“What did you just say?” Her voice is a whisper, raspy with emotion and disbelief rolling into one.

He shifts so he’s able to turn her into him fully, her slack body following him without protest. His thumb caresses her shoulder, noting the array of freckles on the exposed skin there too.

“I love you,” he repeats simply, “so much.”

Her eyes start to sting and she swallows back in an attempt to keep her tears at bay, mentally cursing the affect his words have on her.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he quietly adds, “I just- I wanted you to know.”

Donna brings her hand up on a reflex, caressing the underline of his bottom lip before she leans in to pour every ounce of emotion into the kiss. Before he could deepen it further, she pulls back, their lips parting with a loud smack.

“I love you too.”

His lips curl at her words, eyes lighting up with what she can only guess to be pure unfiltered joy. “Yeah?”

Donna matches his grin, a low laugh leaving her, “Did you not think I did?” She brings his hand up to her mouth, placing a light kiss on his knuckles.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, I just… I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this. You. Us. Tonight.”

She nods in understanding, seemingly accepting the fact that the fluttering in her stomach wouldn’t stop any time soon, “Well, so help me God, but yeah, I’m in love with you.”

If at all possible, his grin grows ten-fold at her words and he pulls her against him so her head is resting on his bare chest. He kisses the top of her head, taking a moment to breathe her in, to let the night and their development sink into him.

A comfortable silence falls between them, her hand drawing invisible patters on his chest, feeling his heart beating against her movements. She doesn’t know how much time passes by while her hand continues a caress on his skin, but it’s not long after until she feels him squirming next to her.

“Are you okay?” Donna lifts her head to look at him, her hair falling in waves in front of her face in the process.

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he gives her a smile that quickly turns into a wince, continuing to shift in his place.

She purses her lips, watching his continued squirm, “Your back hurts, doesn’t?”

“No,” he replies too quickly, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Harvey,”

Her partner sighs, the sound defeating and annoyed all the same, “Okay, a little,” he grumbles out.

Donna quirks her lips, narrowing her eyes down at him, “You just had to play the romantic card and have sex with me in front of your fireplace, didn’t you?”

His head shoots up in her direction, watching her shake her head in a playful scold, “Hey, you’re the one who flipped me, remember? I think I managed to pull something in the process.” He winces again as a pain shoots through his lower back.

“You growing too old for me already, grandpa?” She teases with a poke to his chest.

Harvey pulls her down to him again, placing them in their earlier position with them facing each other on their sides, “We’re the same age, remember?”

“Hmm, I recall you being almost a full year older, mister,” she raises her eyebrow in a challenge, causing him to roll his eyes, his lip curling despite.

“Details, details,” he playfully mocks.

“You want to move to the bed?” His redhead companion asks then, a more serious tone to her voice.

Harvey shakes his head, pulling her closer against him, “No, I’m good here.”

“Harvey,” Donna starts, sending him her look, “Your back hurts and I don’t care how much you beg or look at me- like how you’re doing right now, but I am not going to end up staying in tomorrow just so I could give you a back massage because you-” she pokes his chest, “are too stubborn to admit that you’re in pain right now.”

“You really think you won’t give in to give me one?” He tilts his head at her, sending her his best half smug, half puppy eye look.

No, she thinks to herself.

“But-”

He interrupts her with a peck to her lips, “Donna, I’m fine. Yeah, my back bothers me a bit, but, I want to stay right here, with you.”

She eyes him warily, cursing herself and him, knowing full well she was going to cave.

“Fine, but I am not giving you a back massage. I don’t care how much you whine.” Donna sends him a glare that’s diluted by the way her lips curl under his very gaze. She turns around then, settling her back against his chest like she had earlier, deciding this was a more comfortable position.

“But you love me,” he reminds her with a soft kiss to her back, his voice teasing and light.

She shakes her head at him, glad that he couldn’t see the way her lips widen or the blush that creeps onto her cheeks at his words.

“I can’t seem to remember why at the moment,” she jabs back, grinning when he only pulls her closer to him, their legs tangling beneath them.

Their breathing settles to a slow rhythm, the beat of his heart against her lulling her into a slumber. The last thing she remembers before fully succumbing to sleep is his whispered voice against her, the words alighting her skin on fire.

“I love you, Donna.”

The first sensation that washes over him that morning is warmth- something soft and supple molding against his body like a blanket. The next sensation that hits him is a familiarly sweet smell- a mixture of vanilla and anise making him sigh in content, the scent reminding him of home. It’s only then that he feels his own personal blanket moving, and he creases his forehead in confusion, his eyes still closed.

He slowly allows his eyes to flutter open, wincing at the ray of light that protrudes through his windows. When his vision adjusts and he sees a sign of red, his breath hitches, images of the night before starting to reel in his mind.

Walking through a near blizzard. Getting home and seeing Donna. Sharing spiked hot chocolate with Donna. Having a whipped cream war with Donna.

Making love to Donna. Love. He had told her he love her, and she had reciprocated.

Harvey finds himself studying his companion then, his lips curling a the mere image of her. She was snuggly curled into him, her mouth parted slightly and face relaxed due to being in a deep slumber. She looked peaceful, content, and he couldn’t believe she was now his, in every possible way. A moment of fear passes through him, a feeling he tried to tamper down by reminding himself of what she had told him the night before- that she had wanted this, with him. That she had no regrets. That she was in love with him.

He lets out a sigh, leaning over to press a feather light kiss to her shoulder blade, trying his best not to ruse her from her sleep. He mentally curses himself at the moment, not wanting to leave the warmth and proximity of her, but his bladder was screaming at him, so as carefully as possible, he untangles himself from her, making sure to tug the blanket over her some more. He finds his boxers scattered off to the side and pulls them on, walking over the ensuite of his bedroom to relieve himself.

After he finishes, he heads back out into the living room again, his lips widening when he sees her still sleeping form in front of his fireplace. His breath catches in his throat, the overwhelming sense of needing to go over and wake her to kiss her and tell her how much he loves her hitting him like a freight train. He shakes his head at his own desperation, you are whipped, man, get a grip. He can almost hear Mike’s voice teasing him, already knowing what the young associate would say once he caught wind that his boss and his secretary finally took the plunge.

In an attempt to get himself together, Harvey walks over to his kitchen, hit feet carrying him straight to the coffee maker where he starts brewing some for them. He mentally pats himself on the back when he’s able to find vanilla flavored creamer in his fridge, always keeping some handy because it reminded him of her, just in case she showed up at his place, and just because he actually loved the stuff. All thanks to her.

“What are you so smiley about?”

He nearly jumps in place at her words, not having heard her apparent quiet steps as he was making their coffee. Turning to his right, he sees Donna standing before him, his breath hitching when he does- his white sheet wrapped around her still naked body, auburn hair a tangled mess, and eyes gleaming with unsaturated joy and humor.

“You know that was creepy, right?” He jokes.

Donna smirks, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he knows she wasn’t really, given the way she kept looking at him in amusement, “you just seemed distracted.”

Harvey hums in response, walking over to her in short steps, “Did I?”

“Mhmm, were you thinking about something in particular?” She tilts her head in that way that lets him know she knows what he was thinking about, and his lips twitch at the mere thought.

He shrugs, “Nothing major.”

“Uh huh,” his arms take residence around her body when he finally reaches her, admiring their height difference as he looks down at her with a twinkle in his eyes, “Is that why you were smiling like the cat that ate the canary?”

His grin grows ten-fold, “Was I really?” She nods in response, “Huh, must’ve had a good night last night.”

“Must have,” she agrees quietly.

Not being able to hold it in anymore, Harvey leans down to press his lips against hers, mutual sighs escaping them at the contact. He tries to keep their kiss sweet and short, their lips moving at a languid pace over each other, merely tasting and teasing; testing the waters in the early morning.

“Hey,” he breathes against her, placing his forehead to hers.

“Hey,” she greets back, her grin matching his.

“Did you have a good sleep?” His arms make a slow trail over her back, feeling her skin shivering beneath his ministrations even with a barrier between them.

“At the risk of letting this get to your head... it was the best damn sleep I’ve ever gotten.” Just as suspected, a shit-eating grin appears on his face and she rolls her eyes in response.

“What?”

“You’re shameless,” she quips at him.

Harvey shrugs, “And in love.”

“And sappy,” she laughs then, full and wide, her eyes glinting with nothing but pure love for the man before her.

“I’m already turning into that guy, aren’t I?” He playfully scrunches up his nose, causing her to gently swat at his chest.

“Just don’t turn into too much of a mush, okay? I like my Harvey Specter not fully whipped and a bit of an asshole.”

“I’ll try my best,” he promises with a grin, leaning down to peck her lips one more time before turning to tend to their coffees.

He silently works to pour them each a mug filled with the hot liquid, adding the vanilla creamer to mix.

“Thanks,” she tells him with a shy smile, accepting the blue mug from his hands, letting her own brush over his.

He sends her a half warning glance, knowing she was just teasing him. He veers his attention to the window behind her then, noticing the city was still blanketed in a sheet white. “Man, I can’t believe it’s still snowing.”

Donna turns around at his words, lifting the mug to her lips before taking a tentative sip of the coffee, humming in response when the first sweet taste meets her senses.

“Guess we’ll be stuck in here for a while longer?” She turns to him to raise her eyebrows in his direction, the smirk she wore hiding behind the blue mug.

She hears him placing his own mug on the countertop, feeling his arms wrapping around her middle, “Any suggestions on how to pass the time?” He kisses her cheek, trailing his lips down to her mandible where they stay, just barely hovering over her warm skin.

“That depends,” she places her own mug on the counter beside his before turning around in his arms, “do you still have any of that whipped cream?”

He swallows, his head bobbing in response, “We’ve got some left.”

Donna bites her lip, watching his pupils dilating under the morning light, “Well then, I suggest you grab it and meet me in your bedroom. We’ve got twelve years of lost time to catch up on, Specter.” With that, she leans up to peck his parted lips, quirking a challenging eyebrow at him as she saunters off to his room. He manages to get his feet to turn around, catching her just in time as she lets the white sheet slip off her form.

It only takes him a full second to grab the can of whipped cream, rushing into his bedroom and nearly tripping on the discarded sheet in the process.

He couldn’t fault her for calling him whipped earlier, taking pride in the fact that he was utterly helpless when it came to Donna Paulsen. And as he made love to her for the second time in just twenty four hours, their kisses and gasps mixing in between fits of giggles as they shared a bottle of whipped cream, any last ounce of fear and doubt he held began to thaw.

#darvey #darvey fic #author: ali #one shot #rated m #holiday #Christmas #sort of #also light m #prompt

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