#took me a minute to figure out the barcodes

[pycth]

[REDACTED AUDIO UPLOADED]

Audio RP | Seeing your Chill Water Elemental Professor after class | [A4A]

Barcode- calmingwaters

Audio RP | Elemental Coworkers first meeting | [A4M]

Barcode- kingstonbyfayewebster

Finally tried my hand at these fake thumbnails, now I wanna make more— 🚶

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space. 

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

[fuck-customers]

My Petty on-going war with a "guest"

My Petty on-going war with a guest/non-paying customer continues! So a while back I posted part one of the story, here's the link. https://www.tumblr.com/fuck-customers/696750060212535297/would-it-be-too-petty?source=share If you don't feel like clicking, here's a quick summary. I asked you all if it would be too Petty if I locked up a product a rude non-paying guest comes in to scan into an app. Woman treats all staff like garbage and her visits count against us when our transactions versus guests who walk in is calculated potentially affecting our hourly budget.  A number of times we've been concerned about her stealing, especially when staff is helping a customer towards the back of the store. We'll just hear the door open, no acknowledgement of our greeting, product shuffling around, and boom shes out the door before anyone and approach her.

The response to part one was unanimous, be Petty! and let me tell you friends, I locked that shit up and I felt amazing when this woman came in for the very first time and didn't know what to do. I heard her tapping on the lock box but since she refused speaking to staff she was left in a bind (I caught her by surprise outside the door once at opening, she can speak and theres no language barrier). I watched her wander around the store for a minute before exiting. Meanwhile the guests I was ringing up got great service and save lots of money.

Weeks later she showed up again, she figured out that she was able to scan the barcode on the price tags and get what she wanted that way. Ok.  The thing is I am not one to be outdone and I was winning this Petty War. I have a fine tip pen and drafting tools at home so I filled in those price tags very subtly.  I guess I decided I wanted to waste her time, I know it would have been much simpler to just blatantly black out the barcodes with a sharpie in an obvious a f-u move. We don't scan the barcodes for any store operation reasons so no harm there.

Unfortunately the very first time she came in after I had done this I was in the restroom so I had to get the story secondhand from a trainee who describe this guest as "aggressively ignoring her." The woman spent a couple of minutes trying to scan the barcodes, she even had two phones on hand! but had no luck. Shocker. After a couple of months I took the items out of the lock box, satisfied that I had won the war in pettiness. That was months ago.

But then this past weekend guess who came in? Her daughter and I had a great conversation while mom aggressively ignored me. It was fine! I debated telling her flat out that next time she came in those items were going to be locked up again but I decided against it, let her waste her time if she has so much that she's driving around from business to business scanning product in and never buying anything (also women's holding a phone I don't want to get recorded).

Before the end of the day I locked them up again. And I waited, hoping that she would come in when I was working & I wasn't disappointed! But I was at the very back end of the store when she did arrive. So I saw her doing a "are you kidding me gesture?" with her arms when she saw that it was locked up again. She spent a couple minutes trying to scan the bar codes and I thought she had no luck... but then she comes in the very next day so this time I watch her closely. There was one bar code I may not have tampered with enough, or maybe she thought maybe things would go back to normal right away.  Anyhow, I say fuck it, I grabbed my white out stick run it through every barcode, I white out the UPC number and strategically placed some white out through the items name so that can't be scanned. Until next time lady! Please know the bar is so low all you had to do was not be rude and I wouldn't have given a shit!!!

[rockbandsrockfans]

The Story of My MCR Concert

First of all, I was SO HYPE FOR THIS SHOW, obviously. Years of delays, and then Gerard’s costumes started to hit the Internet, and it just so happened that my anxiety was under control for the first time in a long time. This was going to be LIFE-CHANGING.

Interestingly, the tickets were actually a birthday present from me to my sister, who was the first one of us to discover MCR, but she doesn’t get into bands like I do (meaning she doesn’t learn EVERY SONG and learn the whole background and lore of the band), so I think the songs she knew consisted of like Cancer, Black Parade, and I’m Not Okay. No shade at all, we just like things in different ways!

But here’s some shade, my sister is always late. So she took forever getting ready AS ALWAYS, and while she did that, I started to scheme. I happened to have a… specially infused beverage hidden away in the fridge, and I remembered a mini disposable plastic water bottle rolling around on the floor of my car. I snuck outside, got the water bottle, snuck back in, washed it, and transferred enough beverage into the bottle to deliver what I estimated to be about 15 mg of Substance. I marked that on the bottle, then added the same amount again. Two equal doses.

I was driving and generally in charge of making sure the night went well, which I’m tempted to say was a mistake but really, it wasn’t. You’ll see. I finally dragged my sister’s ass to my car, made sure we had our vaccine cards and everything else we could possibly need in my transparent plastic bag, and hit the road.

And hit the traffic. Yeah, as it turns out, the Tacoma Dome area gets kind of busy when fucking My Chemical Romance is playing. In my defense, I’d only ever been to the Dome as a younger teenager, and my mom took care of everything and did the driving that time. Luckily, neither my sister or I had any need to see the opening bands, and thank god honestly because that would’ve stressed me the hell out.

Against my sister’s advice to drive more into the city sector to find somewhere to park on the street, I turned into the longest goddamn line of cars to get into a Dome parking lot. I told my sister hey, I brought us some beverage if you’d like to take yours now so it can start working. It’s 15 mg. We’ll be here for a while. She drank her half of the beverage and we continued chatting, complaining about the line, and listening to MCR.

The line moved up. Sloooooowly. I figured we were close enough that it was a good time to drink my half of the special beverage.

And then my sister started saying she was feeling it, and it had *only* been half an hour. I gave her a Nutrigrain bar. And I thought oh SHIT. I am driving the car. I estimated an hour for this substance to kick in. If it’s kicking in that fast, it will hit me while I am driving the car. And that is not safe.

So long story short, my sister is a lightweight.

Luckily, I remained sober while driving the car. It was JUST starting to hit as I was finally parking, and I thought the drama was over.

WRONG. The lady at the door (after ANOTHER line) wouldn’t take the tickets I had downloaded into my Apple Wallet, she needed the Ticketmaster barcode. What the fuck??? It didn’t say that anywhere! She forced us out of line with the other poor saps having this issue. And my phone wouldn’t load the Ticketmaster website! Thank fuck, my sister’s phone loaded it after a very tense few minutes and I was able to put in my account details to get to the barcode. We were in!

We were in, but my sister was starting to freak out, because again, apparently a lightweight. It’s worth mentioning that she started doing Substance WAY before I did and is overall much cooler than me. But it was very loud and the sensory shit was getting to her, and we’d been walking in circles around the Tacoma Dome’s interior looking for our seats. It’s hard as hell to find your section in there! She also wanted earplugs because I had my special chambered ones, but she’d forgotten to bring any. There was a help desk that gave her some for free, though, so that was one problem solved. But she was in sensory overload and overall way too high, and we really needed to find our seats.

We had shit seats. That was always the plan; they were cheap. But they were also way up in the air, so we climbed stairs and stairs and stairs and finally sat down after scooching past a bunch of people already sitting. I got a quick moment of rest and then had to start solving the problem of my tripping balls (exaggeration, not even accurate) sister. I decided she needed a pretzel and a water, and fast, so off I went, back past the people, down the stairs, and to a food vendor (no line this time!). Two pretzels with nacho cheese, one bag of kettle corn, two bottles of water, exorbitant prices, but I was just happy to be there. The substance didn’t hit me nearly as hard as my sis, for whatever reason, and I was feeling pretty awesome, if a little hungry.

Back up to our seats and my sister devoured her pretzel, which helped a lot with chilling her out. From there, everything was basically perfect! The show was obviously amazing, and I screamed myself hoarse. We were totally exhausted but so happy afterwards.

[a-drabble-a-dray]

Veilsmoke, Prologue Chapter 1: A Convenience Store Trip.

THUMP.

Lake groaned, rubbing their forehead as they stepped back from the automatic door. Every time. Their eyes trailed up, meeting the sensor’s infrared gaze in an ineffective staredown. 

A moment passed, their conviction unflinching.

No dice. 

Lake relented, waving their hand around so the sensor would actually detect them.

The doors complied, like inanimate objects were supposed to in the first place.

Sighing, Lake stepped into the convenience store. The air conditioner was as strong as ever inside, heedless of the already cold weather. Overly colorful packaging lined the shelves, though Lake’s familiarity with their own preferences made it easy to ignore all the exceptionally unhealthy temptations.

“You know…” As Lake reached out for a bottle of soda, the cashier’s voice creeping in from behind sent a chill down their spine before the cold of the fridge even hit them. Oh. She was watching. “It’s just you. The door works fine otherwise.”

“W-Well, that’s not my fault!” Lake turned around, racking their mind to come up with a face-saving rebuttal. “Besides, uh…”

“...Besides?” The young woman leaned on the counter, face half-shrouded in a mess of black hair, though her amusement still peered through. “Go on.”

“Besides, you– Wait.” Lake blinked, mentally shifting gears to a more important question. “You were keeping track?”

“Oh, I, uh–” She blinked, standing straight up on her stool. “No, that’s… Stupid. It’s just that, uh, I’d notice. Practically nobody comes here.”

“Oh.” Lake paused, glancing at the shelves, holding a large bottle of lemon soda. “Well, I come here. That counts for something, right?”

“No.” She shot down quickly. “It’s just confusing, really. You walk all the way across the bridge for, what? Junk food?”

“Um… Yeah…?” Lake paused, feeling a twinge of guilt as they grabbed the largest-sized bag of chips the store had. “Wait, how did you…?”

“You were wearing a Roche U shirt last time. I figured you lived on campus.” She explained, putting some of the magazines from the register counter back onto the rack.

“That… Makes sense.” Lake placed their purchase on the counter, hesitating for a second. “But, um…” They piped up, trying to pretend they weren’t blushing. “Why do you remember so much about me?”

The cashier froze for a second, barcode scanner stumbling out of her hand and down onto the floor. After looking for it for what felt like a minute, she shot back up with a counter. “What are you talking about? That’s basic info. Maybe don’t come around so often if you’re so embarrassed.”

“O-Oh. Right.” They nodded, a bit taken aback by the scolding. “It’s just, um, most people don’t remember my name, nevermind all that.”

“That’s… Kinda sad.” She sighed, scanning the codes. Slowly, however, the cashier’s eyes trailed up, until they met Lake’s. She stayed silent, lips parted uneasily. “I…”

“...Lake.” They tried to not look disappointed. “It’s Lake.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” She nodded, glancing away. “H-Here’s your total.”

Lake tapped their phone against the PIN pad, sighing in relief as a beep confirmed the transaction actually went through. “...Can I ask something, in return?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” She nodded, offering a plastic bag. 

“Is ‘Phan’ short for anything?”

She paused, glancing down at the name tag sticker glued to her coat. “...No. No, it’s noth–”

The cashier froze, tensing up and wide-eyed. As soon as Lake opened their mouth to say something, the world went black.

It took a second to adjust. It seemed like a blackout, but that wouldn’t have left them in pitch black at nine in the morning. The lights, thankfully, slowly faded back on, only to remain unstable. The fluorescent bulbs, buzzing and flickering, seemed to form patterns, attention to the lights making Lake feel something clawing behind their eyes.

Their focus shifted to the door. The morning outside was gone. Outside was gone. There wasn’t simply darkness beyond the glass– Whatever was on the other side seemed to consume the scant light left in the store.

Phan grit her teeth. She didn’t seem nearly as confused, but still looked as visibly uncomfortable, bracing herself on the counter.

“What–” Lake mumbled, only to be hit with a stinging pain. The simple sound of words, soft as they were, seemed to twist itself into knives, making even Phan flinch from the aural torture. 

‘Shut up.’ She mouthed soundlessly, raising a hand as if telling them to wait.

Lake braced themself against the counter, letting the seconds flow into minutes, the buzzing and the flickering scratching at the edges of their mind as if to not let them get distracted.

And then, it was gone.

Another flash of darkness, and they were… Back. The lights were on. The sun shone outside.

“...What…” Lake huffed, legs somehow even shakier now that they were, seemingly, safe. “...What was that?”

“I’ve got no idea.” She responded, hesitating. “It just… Happens. Sometimes.”

“Wh- That?” Lake shook their head in astonishment. “Shouldn’t someone, uh, look into that? I-I mean, maybe…” They reached for the business card, still in their pocket from yesterday.

“Someone should,” Phan interrupted, “but… I’d rather nobody did. I can’t really afford to lose this job.”

“...Working retail, you mean?” Lake blinked.

“No,” she corrected, crossing her arms, “getting to slack off unsupervised all day because nobody comes here.”

“...Oh.”

“They even pay well– Maybe because of the, uh…”

“...Nightmare blackouts?” Lake offered.

“That works.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t want job advice when you’re specifically going to the cheapest convenience store in town.”

“I–” Lake huffed. “I’m working on that!”

“Uh-huh.” She sighed. “Well, your stuff’s still there.”

“...Yeah.” Lake picked up the plastic bag, stepping towards the door with a bit of a smile. “Thanks.”

“...Ophanim.” She mumbled, as soon as they turned around.

“...Huh?” Lake turned around, cocking their head to the side.

“My name. Phan is short for Ophanim.” She huffed, averting her eyes. “I know it’s stupid, but–”

“I like it!” Lake grinned.

“...Sure you do.” She turned away, leaning back on her stool. ”Can you leave me alone now?”

“...Alright.” Lake turned around, pretending not to notice her smile. “Take care!”

Funnily enough, the door opened just fine on their way out.

[envihellbender]

Slave master shows up to get what Stitches promised him. Lev kills him. Horribly.

Characters: Kristián/Stitches, Lev (OCs)

Settings: Cyberpunk, Gorelex verse

Content: Mature (gore, coarse language, nothing explicit), m/m romance, dystopian, oppression, slavers

—

Lev was starting to feel more comfortable being home alone, it was almost nice in a way. Stitches going to the marketplace at the Selot Docks for food and supplies was almost normal, domestic even. Lev laid back on the his nest in the corner, what had begun as his piles of cushions blankets on the floor that Stitches created for him when he brought him home was now an actual corner that belonged to just Lev. There was a mattress, sheet, blankets, cushions, books, a tablet, drawings that Stitches had made pinned to the wall… it was his. He didn’t really sleep here any more, he usually curled up in the bed at the other corner of the room. Or rather, a mattress held up on wooden pallets. It was big enough for both of them to curl up on, but Lev still enjoyed his corner. Right next to Stitches’ work station. He was simply tapping away at his tablet when there was a loud knock at the metal door. Lev froze. Generally the Goreta Housing Facility was safe, the fact it was protected by the Draves crime family meant so long as you kept up with rent the Police couldn’t touch you and the Draves wouldn’t. This meant for the the most part people minded their own business.

The insistent knock broke Lev out his thought process. Everything about this was so odd and Stitches hadn’t prepared him for it. anyone who did want to call to hide Stitches they did it via the intercom. A bang on the door was… strange. Worrying. Lev took a deep breath and told himself he was safe, Stitches had covered his barcode with one of his specialist tattoos. A body modification on his neck, a black square covering the brand entirely and then covering that was a green and blue snake that moved in the same figure of eight pattern. He picked up his goggles, being silver with blue lenses meant they hid his scarlet eyes perfectly. He nervously pulled himself up, the anxiety causing a warm static hum to radiate from his skin. He stood by the door and cleared his throat.

“What do you want?” He said, voice strained and hoarse.

“Stitches. We need to talk,” a soft voice responded. Lev swallowed and grew quiet for a moment, the man on the other side of the door sounded like he didn’t belong here. He belonged in business meetings and on a yacht, maybe fucking his secretary whilst his wife looked after the kids. His Received Pronunciation with a lilting accent did not put Lev at ease.

“Stitches isn’t here.”

“Well. Then perhaps I should come in and wait for him.”

“I… No. I don’t-” Lev began anxiously. The idea of someone being in his space made his skin itch, especially a threat. He was interrupted by a low chuckle and the response was sharp and sinister as if the man’s tongue was a diamond blade.

“Let me in before I shout at the top of my lungs about how Stitches is hiding an Esper in here.” The threat hung in the air, a heavy silence which could have been a second or a minute rested on Lev’s chest. His breath growing quick and tagged.

“You… fuck. Fine. Fuck,” he spluttered. He stood back for a moment, feeling the energy filling his body, shaking and burning. He took a deep breath and tried to calm it. It was only one man, he thought, he could take him. He entered the passcode to unlock the door, the moment it cracked open a middle aged man shoved it open with his shoulder and slipped through the crack. His salt and pepper hair was immaculately sculpted, his nails short and clean, with his suit freshly pressed. He had forgone a tie and just allowed his top three buttons to remain open, showing off a metallic shine around his collar bone. He allowed the door to lock behind him, Lev took a step back, letting a hand fall to touch Stitches’ workstation, balancing and comforting him.

“Well, well. Stitches wasn’t lying,” the man said with a smirk. “The goggles and tattoo hide it, but I’m sure your owner won’t be happy that your burning his little sketches.” Lev jumped and picked up his hand from Stitches desk, the perfectly sculpted diagrams now charred. Lev sighed and clenched his jaw, he’d deal with that later.

“What do you want?” He said, his voice harsh and his gaze glaring.

“Pleased to meet you too. Jean-Pascal, I would shake your hand but I don’t want the erm, you know,” Jean-Pascal scowled as if thinking about touching Lev would give him a disease.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to business, fine.” Jean-Pascal shrugged his shoulders, everything he did seemed oddly theatrical. His spine was a little too straight and his limbs awkward in a way that Lev couldn’t explain. “I’m here to take what Stitches promised me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Stitches- he’d have told me,” Lev insisted, spluttering with each word. Jean-Pascal raised one black eyebrow.

“You know, I’ve never met a pet Esper whore who talks back before.”

“I’m not a fucking pet. Or a whore,” Lev spat.

“Doesn’t the stasis chamber you were forced into sap the fight right out of you? From the age of what, six?” Jean-Pascal’s voice was infuriatingly smug, as if he was talking to a child or a dog. It resulted in Lev’s body temperature rising and a humming static covering his body.

“I didn’t get-” Lev ground his teeth, trying to ensure he didn’t burn the room down around him as some tools on the walls were shaken free and fell onto the ground. Jean-Pascal gave a quick glance in their direction meaning he didn’t catch Lev’s flinch. “Never mind. Fuck you. What do you want?”

“You.” Jean-Pascal’s words were simple and hung in the air like a he’d just dropped one of Stitches’ tools on his chest.

“I… what? What are you talking about?” Lev backed away, his nerves growing and his control on the energy inside of him wavering.

“It’s quite straight forward really,” Jean-Pascal began as he started to pace up and down the small apartment that had once been a storage facility. “Stitches told me he had found a stray Esper he wanted to sell. Then all of a sudden he changed his mind, cancelled the deal,” he said as stopped and took a step forward to close the space between them. Lev stumbled backwards, just about managing to stop himself from falling.

“Well. Then I’m not for sale any more, am I?”

“Him wanting a personal pet doesn’t mean-”

“I’m not a pet! Jesus Christ. He… he changed his mind on a few things.”

“So what are you then?”

“I don’t know. I… We’re… He’s my-” Lev looked away and took a deep breath.

“What? Your boyfriend?” Jean-Pascal mocked as he rolled his dark grey eyes.

“Yeah. He is, actually.”

“He’s got you fooled, hasn’t he?”

“No. It’s real. It’s all… Real.”

“So, why did he want to sell you then?”

“He didn’t know me then!” Lev snapped. “He… He changed his mind. He was… he felt guilty. The day he tried to take me to the underground market in the old subway system. He said he didn’t want to sell anything. Took me back home. Never mentioned it again.” Jean-Pascal was silent and stared thoughtfully at Lev.

“What does he want? More money?”

“No. No.” Lev’s shoulders tensed and he turned away from Jean-Pascal and hung his head. He hated being stared at. So much so it made his body begin shaking. Not in a physical way, as if he was nervous, but more his bones shook in the way a machine would when switched on. “He said he doesn’t want to be the kind of guy that sells people.”

“You’re not people.” The sudden shout from Jean-Pascal made Lev flinch as his mouth grew dry and his stomach twisted. His fiddled with the sleeve of his suit jacket, straightening it and dusting it off before he responded with his voice returned to its normal volume. “You’re supposed to have had that thought beaten out of you.”

“Whatever. So. I’m not for sale. Me and Stitches are fine. And happy. And you can fucking leave.” Lev attempted to sound threatening but he knew his voice had cracked as he spoke.

“No, see, I’ve gotten Stitches enough customers he should know by now I don’t go back on a deal,” Jean-Pascal growled. He lunched forward, grabbing Lev by the neck. “Nice goggles, specially made too, huh? Stitches must have worked really hard on them.” His fingers began toying with the band and that’s when Lev felt it. His body began to heat up, sparks radiating from his fingers. He yelled as the energy left his body, lightening coming from the spaces between his fingers, accompanied by a blue flame. The power shocked the man’s body, freezing him in terror as parts of his skin melted from his body, alongside his muscles and tendons, white parts of bone sticking out. His suit was burned to tatters, and he smelt like burning pork. His body stayed there statuesque for a moment as Lev giggled and smirked watching him. His trousers were stained with urine, and suddenly his joints splintered as his legs could no longer hold him and his corpse fell to the ground. Lev sighed, a giddy excitement filling his body. He walked over to the body and kicked it in the man’s gut, he then stamped on his face and rolled his neck back and forth with his foot.

“Hope Risto knows of a good body disposal place nearby,” Lev mused as he giggled to himself, watching how the man’s eyeballs were empty he wondered if he should take them out as a memento.

[icallhimjoey]

what u mean struggling!?!! you dumb-dumb go read your own fics back and convince yourself that you'll do an amazing job! i cant wait for part 3 (please let them fuck on the stairs they deserve it)

bitch you don't know my LIFE (jokes, love you, thanks) ive got a very specific spot i need to get these idiots into and its taking me time to figure out a good way to get them there (its not the stairs) (no stair-fucking in this one sorry) (my joey would never)  Wordcount: 3.5K

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A Lot Like Love

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your friend had trickled little droplets of doubt into your mind. Sprinkled uncertainty into your thoughts like chocolate onto a cake, but less sweet, more bitter. You liked to imagine Joe as just the person that he was when he was in the bookstore. There was no need for you to think of him as anything else, but your friend was right. It did seem like there was a little of a double life situation going on, yet it didn’t feel like he was hiding anything on purpose. Just something you didn’t talk about. Because you didn’t know each other, like Joe had pointed out to you the day before. 

You helped a couple of older ladies find books. And then someone came in and asked for something you didn’t have, and you spent a little while looking it up to see if you should get some copies of it in. And then you still had to scan more barcodes into the till. Get more books into the system. And then you made two coffees, because Joe was still there. But then more people came in who didn’t want to look themselves but had immediately asked for your assistance, and whilst Joe got to enjoy his hot beverage from the plush armchair with his mind deep within a story, yours grew cold because you had work to do, and it felt unfair.  

Because you wanted to sit with him whilst he was still there. 

And the first moment you got, where there didn’t seem an immediate task looming to be done, you took your chance and sat in the chair opposite to Joe. 

No book. You didn’t want to read. You wanted to watch him read. And you felt you should be able to openly do so. This was your store. So, you scooted back into the chair far enough for you to prop a leg up that you rested your head on. You could just take a break here for a minute, before the door would open again and there’d be new customers to help.

Joe’s so pretty, you thought. 

Joe was pretty, and obviously also very aware that you were staring at him. But he was reading. And he knew the one rule in the store, so he kept reading. You had the image of Joe in a shiny black suit fresh in your mind’s eye. You liked this Joe better. The one that wore these clothes that never seemed to properly fit his form. Frumpy, too big on his frame. And his hair, fluffy. Soft. The scruff on his cheeks. Chin. Neck. Just, messy. No intentional shape to it. Soft features, focused big brown eyes and that mouth that just… You sighed at the look of it. Those lips? Sir.  

When Joe turned a page, his eyes glanced up at you once more and he was amused by the sight of you. Your cheekbone was resting on your knee, your head cocked to the side, both arms around your propped up leg and seemingly, you were deep in thought. When you made eye contact, your mouth pursed into a small smile. Joe copied it.

“Don’t you have a bookstore to run?” Joe asked, eyes then back in his book. 

“It’s a little unfair,” your eyes didn’t leave Joe’s face.  

“What is?”  

You sighed. “You know where I work,” you started. “You know where I live.” Joe halted and looked at you for a second before closing his book and crossing his hands over his stomach. His full attention was on you now.  

“You know my family,” you continued. “You know Anne… it doesn’t seem very… equal?” you weren’t sure if equal was the right word to use. But you remembered Joe’s arm around that beautiful girl in the picture and you needed to know more about it. Even if it was just to tell your friend that she’d been wrong. Or right. But you hoped wrong, of course.

“Oh, it was never equal.” Joe furrowed his brow at you. It wasn’t the reaction you expected. You weren’t sure what he meant and confusion struck your features.

“You knew who I was the second you saw me.” Joe pointed out, and you were surprised to feel your cheeks flush. Joe was right. You had recognized him instantly when he’d walked into the store that very first time. And it made you blush, which was embarrassing and only made you blush more.  

“There’s a lot of information of me, just, out there.” Joe waved his hand around, gesturing at nothing. The point he was making sunk into you. And it was true, you knew he was right. If you wanted to know things about Joe, there were several ways of getting your hands on information that didn’t involve him directly.  

“That doesn’t count.”  

Because it wasn’t what you meant. You meant that you didn’t know where he lived. What his living space looked like. What he did with his time when he wasn’t in the store, what was inside his fridge, who his friends were, what his mum looked like.

“I think you’ve got the basics down.” Joe scrunched his face at you, one eye closed, as he repeated your words back at you, making your jaw drop. Joe reached for his book, ready to get back into it.  

Wow. Okay.  

So he wasn’t going to reveal anything else about himself until you were going to? That seemed like a stubborn game to play. But Joe had just reminded you that you had started it yourself, sort of, the other day, in your apartment, over shared bowls of pasta. So, you thought, let’s finish it then too. You had definitely revealed more of yourself to Joe than Joe had revealed of himself to you, and you were about to prove it.  

“I cried in front of you.”  

“You’ve seen me cry too.” Joe kept his focus in his book, entirely too casual and quick with his comeback.  

“On screen.” You added.  

“You’ve watched me die.” Joe grew in theatricality, glee thick in his voice. 

You had watched him die. But he’d been in character. 

“That’s hardly the same, you weren’t in the room with me!”  

“Ahh, but you see, I was.”

“On screen! Doesn’t count!”

As you playfully bickered back and forth, you thought back to how you had watched Stranger Things in your bed, in the dark, late at night. Technically Joe had been in your bed with you when you watched him die. You weren’t going to tell him that, though. 

“You know exactly everything I know about you. I have no idea what you’ve seen, or read, or have looked up online about me. So much for equality.” Joe stated, now just flipping pages in his book to avoid your eyes.  

“That’s not true, actually. I don’t know what my granddad has told you about me.”  

“Yes, you do, I told-” Joe started, but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“You got me croissants because of something he said.” You smirked, far too competitive for your own good in your need to win this weird game.  

Oh. He didn’t know you knew that, and you saw the slight shock in his face. Joe looked at you, then turned to look out the window a second before he sat up in his seat. 

“All right. I live in South London.” He spoke as if he had just given you a trivial piece of information about him. Something you could’ve never known. A huge secret leaked. When you didn’t respond to it, he added, “Southeast.” 

You slumped your shoulders. “Well, I knew that.”  

“See?!” Joe practically shouted. “It was never equal!” 

“I read one article! Was in the first sentence!” you laughed. “You know my literal street address!” 

“Because you live above the store!”  

“You’ve seen me without make-up on!”  

“You’ve seen me with!”  

“You’re an actor!”  

“You’re a bookstore owner!”  

“So?!”  

You were shouting loudly at each other with joy shooting from your faces. This was borderline not making sense anymore. If anyone was to walk in right now, you weren’t sure if you would be able to greet them in a normal tone of voice.  

“So?!” Joe repeated you, then suddenly launched forward and took hold of the armrests of your chair and yanked the whole thing towards him, almost trapping your legs in between. You could pull them up just in time. The chair made an awful noise against the wooden floor, and you had only just managed to hold in a shriek.  

“So… come back home with me today.” Joe spoke with a twinkle in his eye, his volume way softer then - sensible inside voice. 

“All right!” Your voice was still loud, in the same tone you had used to shout before. It made Joe comically flinch, before doing the same, shouting “All right!” back at you. It had the both of you laughing. 

Joe leant forward in his seat and got closer to you, but then waited. You saw his eyes pan down to your lips and you knew what he was waiting for. You closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him square on the mouth. But you felt Joe’s grin as it stayed put – he wasn’t kissing you back, so you used a finger to prod him in the ribs. “You’re so annoying, kiss me!” you moaned, clawing at his shoulders to pull him closer towards you and Joe laughed into your mouth before kissing you back. Your lips collided hard, the kiss firm, almost rough, definitely needy. You hummed in satisfaction. Joe breathed you in and found your hips with his hands to scoot you closer. You opened your mouth, inviting him to kiss you deeper which Joe took advantage of immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist. He pulled you up from your seat and leant back, placing you over his lap as he did. Your knees ended up pushing into the seat of his chair, right beside his thighs. Oh shit, you thought. We’re in the store. In front of the windows. But were you going to be one to stop this? Absolutely not. Joe’s taste was too sweet. His grip too feverish. Your hands found Joe’s hair as your kiss grew in passion, and when you felt Joe groan into your mouth and his hands grab at your ass, your mind filled up with thick fog. 

Before the door could even trigger the bell above it, you heard your mother say, “Oh- I’ll come back later!” in a panic. 

The cloud of lust immediately dissipated above you as the air sunk, and you quickly broke away from Joe.

“Look who it is,” you locked eyes with Joe, moving back onto your calves, your butt finding the other chair again before turning to find your mother there.

“The lady from the bakery.” 

Joe helped you close up shop that day. You had rushed through it, knowing that there were a lot of things you could just do the next day. Locking the door behind you, Joe had grabbed hold of your hand as he’d lead the way to his apartment. 

It was such a strange experience to be out with him. In public. Taking the tube. What if people saw? Of course, people would see, you understood people would see, but what would they think? Would they automatically assume that you were a couple? Maybe when you were holding hands, like now. But maybe they wouldn’t if you weren’t. They probably wouldn’t presume anything, you then thought. And why would they? You were just two people on a train in London, like so many others were. 

The further away you got from the bookstore, the more foreign Joe somehow felt to you, but there was an excitement bubbling within you. You kind of wanted to see what this other Joe was like. So far, he seemed the same. Boringly so.

“It’s not as nice as yours,” Joe said when he turned the key. “I might have more books though,” he joked, and you huffed a laugh through your nose. With the amount of books Joe had bought from you, you’d easily believe it.

Joe’s flat is unmistakably a man’s apartment. No frill. Little charm. Not much more than necessary furniture pieces and a dying plant in a corner near a window. It doesn’t match Joe the way that your apartment matches you. However, the bookcase in his living room is something else entirely. As you laid your eyes upon it, you couldn’t help but step closer to check out his collection, your coat still on, because this was more important right now. You recognized a lot of them, and you smiled when you found his copy of Blindness. “Have you read all of these?” You were surprised by how many of them he bought from you. All together in a bookcase like this, it was a bit worrying to think of how much money he spent on them. There were other books there too, paperbacks and hardcovers you know you had never had in stock. “Nah,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I’m not much of a reader.” Making you laugh.

Joe cooked for you. Tagliatelle, salmon, spinach- it was fucking great. It almost made you consider cooking proper meals for yourself more often, but you’d never do this justice, not like Joe, you were sure. 

You briefly met Joe’s flatmate who walked in, grabbed something from his bedroom and left shortly after. When he had shaken your hand to introduce himself, he had looked at you a little funny, but then said, “I was going to say you look really familiar, but it’s ‘cause I’ve seen your photograph.” revealing that Joe had shown him the one picture he had of you. “Thanks for that, mate. Really helps.” Joe had commented sarcastically and all of you laughed. 

After dinner, Joe reached for your plate, but you decided that you’d clean up for the both of you and ordered Joe to stay out of the kitchen. He had cooked a beautiful meal, it felt like the least you could do in return was pile dirty dishes into the dishwasher. It felt strange to move around with forced habitually in a space so unfamiliar to you. But you thought back to Joe, who three seconds into being in your apartment had stuck his head into your fridge, so you stilled the alarm bells that you could faintly hear in your brain. When everything was tidied away, you wiped the counters down and your eye landed on Joe’s coffee machine. You called out to Joe and offered him a coffee, as if it was Joe who was a guest at your house instead of the other way around, making Joe laugh from his spot on the sofa and say, “Yea, sure. We keep coffee in-” “Found it.” You interrupted before he could finish the sentence. 

With two coffees in hand, you stepped back into the living room and thought to yourself how Joe didn’t look like Joe. That man sitting on that sofa across the room from you might as well be a complete stranger. But it was Joe, and the closer you got to him, the more his surroundings faded from your vision turning him more into the Joe you knew. It’s this place, you thought, shocked at the effect it had on you. But you were quick to shake it off; you just weren’t used it, you told yourself. You put the coffees down in front of him and sat down on the sofa next to him. Joe pulled you over towards him immediately. Close. Hands on your legs that were now half on the sofa and half over Joe’s legs. Faces close, but Joe didn’t move to kiss you. He waited again, and you thought back to how he had done that earlier in the store too. He’d get so close, close enough for you to feel and smell his breath, but then he’d linger. In case you didn’t want to be kissed? To give you control over the situation? It sounded chivalrous, but it was more just, very annoying. You waited to see if he really wouldn’t do anything. When it took too long, Joe’s hands started wandering from your legs to your waist before snaking their way over to your back, dipping underneath your top to graze bare skin… but his lips? So close. But still not touching yours.

“Kiss me,” you whispered breathily, needing to know if he would when you asked for it. Joe’s grin grew, and he turned his head to touch his nose on the other side of yours, but not following orders. He was still just there, hovering. You moved back slightly to look at him. “Are you edging me for a fucking kiss?” 

Joe laughed loudly, tilting his head back as he did. You used your fingers to poke him in his stomach, making him curl in on himself.

“You’ve got to earn it!” Joe laughed as he grabbed hold of your hands to stop you. “All right, so I think I can still catch the tube if I leave now, maybe the night bus if I’m unlucky,” you faked getting up to leave, looking at your empty wrist for the time. “No, no, no,” Joe was quick to pull you back in close to him by your waist and then held you there.

“What do I need to know?” Joe meant about you. You groaned and let your head slump against his shoulder. “You said yourself that it’s unfair,” Joe said, now using his fingers to trail slowly up and down your back.

“It is unfair.” You looked at him. “But I promise it’s unfair to me.” 

“All you’ve got to do is tell me something about you. Hardly seems a difficult job to do.” Joe made a point, and you saw his eyes dart to your lips. You bit them for a second, pondering if you should say what you were about to.

“How was your film premier the other day?” It’s not ‘something about you’. But you knew it would reveal something about you, which felt like it was within the gist of things.

Joe instantly tensed under your hands. 

“See?” he then said. “Unfair to me, because I haven’t told you about that and you still know about it.” Joe thought he was making a point. And sure, something could be said for it, but it’s not what you meant. 

“Exactly. You haven’t told me about that.” It prompted Joe to sit back a little, widening the space in between you. You felt like you were winning the game, but it wasn’t a very fun occasion. You could hear distant alarm bells inside your mind again. “We don’t know each other.” You waved a finger in between the two of you, signaling to Joe that this was a two-way street. “I know you as the man who comes into my store to sit and read books.” Joe frowned at you. “Who I also flirt with, and give coffee to, and occasionally make out with.” You added, letting Joe know he was more to you than a random customer. “I don’t know Joseph Quinn," You spoke and motioned your hands as if his name was written in lights across the sky. "The famous actor who takes selfies with fans in the street, who flies business class all over the world, who has long days of filming and doing press interviews and who goes to lavish parties with celebrities and models and-”

“Premier was fine.” Joe interrupted you and sucked all playfulness out of the room with the short answer to your earlier question, his face serious.

“Good. I’m glad.” You were unsure of what else to say. 

It was quiet for a second bar the now blaring alarm bells in your mind, and it quickly grew awkward. You didn’t like Joe’s apartment. At all. And you didn’t think you were going to get that kiss still. 

But you could obviously try, still. So you did.

“I don’t have any siblings.” You started. 

“And I can’t watch horror films because they activate my fight or flight response, and I never know which one it’s going to be, so I’ll either end up punching the TV or I have to pause the film to go for a walk.” You noticed a small smile creep onto Joe’s face. 

“I’ve been to Spain once when I was six years old and I’ve wanted to go back ever since, but I’m afraid that when I do, it won’t be as good as I remember it and I don’t want to shatter those precious childhood memories.” Joe scooted closer to you; his grip stronger on you again. 

“I really love Christmas. Everything about it. The bad films, the repetitive music, the cold weather, the smell of Christmas trees – it’s truly the most wonderful time of the year.” It was working. Time to hit for a home run. 

“And I’m a real sucker for good, slow, passionate kisses.” And Joe kissed you, just like you said you wanted him to. 

— part four read Like A Poem here —

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl - add yourself  

[chuuulip]

Another Earth

Pairing: August Walker (werewolf) x Female Reader (red ridding hood)

Warning: 18+, PWP, Oral (M and F receiving), Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Slightly ABO Universe, Rough Sex

Words: 7434

Summary: After a failed attempt to sign up for the Halloween haunted house to meet your Superman, the last minute ticket turned your night upside down as you were stuck in another earth.

A/N: Unbeta! Any grammar mistake will be on me. Divider by me 😆 This is for @jtargaryen18​ Halloween challenge, and I’m pretty late! Sorry for that life has been busy xD I still have another one in progress (the Andy barber one) and hopefully can post it soon! Thanks to @navybrat817​ and @venusdemonroe​ for giving me the idea for this story and help me discuss what a werewolf August Walker would do in this lol. Actually I wanted to mention a lot....of things but I guess it would be too much for a one shot lil but anyway Happy reading!!!

***

This year's Halloween event was mental. Several big haunted houses are hosted by celebrities. To name a few, there's an Avengers Tower haunted house, The Hall of Justice League, The X-Mansion, and even Walking Dead one. 

 You knew it wasn't easy. All of them have a huge fandom. The ticket was sold out immediately when it was open for sale, like 3 months before Halloween, and you were terribly upset. You were whining for a month straight to your boyfriend. Or more like your sugar daddy. He was patient and wealthy, but he knew he can't satisfy you enough, so he usually did everything he could for you. But that time, you just have none of it. The relationship, if you could ever say that, fell out immediately because you were unreasonable.

 You really wanted to go to The Hall of Justice League and maybe meet Clark Kent. The obsession started because he always visited your dream and mostly engaged in the steamiest dream ever. It's been your wildest dream, really, to have that body blanketed yours, in a really not innocent way.

 Just one day before Halloween, you finally secured one ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house. Of course, the first thing you did was scream. You had been on their waiting list since the ticket sold out, but you really lost hope since last week. But now, you celebrate it with a bit of a jump and constant scream.

 "What the fuck?" Your only housemate barged into your bedroom. Face annoyed.

 You stopped your silly jumps and looked at your housemate. With a broad smile, you hug your housemate and shake her body, "I got it! I got the ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house! Can you believe that?"

 The redhead hugged you, and both of you jumped in a circle. "Oh my gosh...I can't believe it! Congrats!!! I really hope you will meet your Kryptonite." she gave you her suggestive smirk.

 "I mean...a girl can only hope. But this is a charity event. I don't think he will be available. What if it's all a decoy and I only meet his wax figure?" you pouted at your friend.  

 "Well, at least you have the opportunity to see it yourself. But remember, behave, young lady, don't let him if he's there, I mean, witness your brattiness."

 "Aye...aye Captain!" you giggled but immediately gave your housemate a military saluted.

 That night you dreamed of those big blue eyes and his firm, fantastic arms on yours.

 ***

 Dress in your red riding hood costume, you patiently sat in the backseat of the Uber car. Well, maybe a little bit impatient, since it's already 11pm. 

 Everything just went down the hill since morning. You can't seem to find your Poison Ivy costume. Not to mention that you were late for work that morning. Your boss was a bitch since she seems annoyed at you every time the male employee or investor became too friendly with you. 

 Who can blame you? You were just good at acting all cute to them, and it's not your fault that they mostly thought you were a cute little employee. 

 You check your wrist. The expensive rose gold watch from your ex sugar daddy elegantly pointed at 11.30 pm. You sighed, "do you know how long I will arrive at my destination? It will close soon."

 "Hopefully, in 10 minutes. Dunno why it's jam-packed." Said the Uber driver.

 You huffed in exasperation, but there's nothing you can do. You arrived very last minute, like 15 minutes before the haunted house closed. Wearing black stiletto boots, you carefully made a small run into the stairs. The booth was stationed to the far left of the building. 

 "Good night, little red riding hood; you are lucky because we are almost closed. Can I see your ticket, please?" A man dressed as Edwar Scissorhands greeted you at the far left of the building. 

 You fished out your smartphone from your small basket bag and showed him your barcode. He scanned it and looked at the monitor in front of him. "Hmm, here for a kryptonite, aren't you." He eyed you up and down and smirked at you. "I hope you have a spooky night, little girl." 

 You smile at him and sashay your way to the entrance. Apparently, they makeover a warehouse into a vast real-life Justice League Hall. Like in the comic. A white half-circle exterior completed with two giant pillars at each side imitated the picture you only seen in comic books. It looks so magnificent. 

 You entered the door after you scanned your barcode at the scanner next to it. The whooshing noises startle you a bit, but you were too excited and step in immediately. 

 The inside was bright with a black marble flooring that shone bright; you even can see your reflection. There's a different section of the silvery door like in most sci-fi, alien invasion movies. So futuristic, so clinical. 

 You darted your eyes and found where you needed to go. A small rectangle monitor with a very digital clock font in it showed you 'Krypton' words. Without hesitation, you did a little run and waited in front of it. The small rectangle monitored turned to green, and it shone. It startled you, but you let out a sigh of relief when it just scanned your body from your head to toe. 

 "So much for a haunted house." You muttered. 

 When the door opened, you stepped in. It was a glass elevator. You circled your eyes and found everything was dark. When the elevator ran, bringing you down several floors, the surrounding changed. 

 Once, the darkness engulfed you like you were being shipped to the deep ocean, but it changed dramatically. Your eyes darted in awe as you drank on the scenery. The scenery of what you would call the imitation of Planet Krypton. So beautiful yet so harsh. 

 When the elevator stopped, the ding noise pulled you to the present. With excitement, you grabbed your smartphone and took several pictures of the scenery. It was just so surreal that a haunted house would make something like this. But you remember how expensive the ticket was.

 "This three grant haunted house better give me a chance to fuck a real-life Clark Kent." you cackled. 

 There's a weird tower with a green light on top of it. You assumed some futuristic objects were supposed to be 'kryptonite' as it floated sparsely in most parts of the supposed Krypton. A bit further, you could see a white crystal-like triangle building. Oddly enough, it reminded you of the Louvre Pyramid. This one just full of crystal-like pillars crisscrossed it. 

 Didn't want to waste your time, you decided what path you should choose. It wasn't easy. Your stiletto pierced to the weird substrate like mud but also crystal-like as if it's ice. Carefully, you mind your footing while again stayed alert. There's this odd feeling of being watched. But you reminded yourself that you were in a haunted house, so it's understandable.

 You let out a loud scream when suddenly a mummy appeared behind one of the floated crystals. "Holy shit, I didn't see that coming." you try to slow down your breath as you clutched the white ruffle shirt under your red corset.

 When you feel that you can walk again, you try to do it faster. Several times it looks like the Krypton had shifted in its light as if the sun rose and shone, but the next five minutes, it set. Made the scenery look like it was illuminated by the crystal alone, like a lamp.

 When many ghost-like mannequins showed up, it got scarier and scarier, and you immediately lowered your hood to shield you from some view. Your eyes perked up when you finally saw the path to the Fortress of Solitude. It was more like an icy bridge with a dark pond surrounding it. 

 As your right foot stepped onto the bridge, a loud noise of a clock surprised you. It struck once and counted until it stopped at the twelfth. It was so loud it's voice echoed. You can even feel it under the sole of your boots. 

 Stunned for a moment, your mind suddenly set on alert mode when the water from both ponds on each side of the bridge rippled. A dinosaur-like head appeared from both ponds. It has a single protruding horn. It opened its mouth and let out a loud growl. A blast of wind came out of it like a thunderstorm. It has sharp teeth like sharks that you assumed could quickly rip your body apart if it sank on yours. 

 "Holy shit. This is— this is a joke, right? It's not real?" Body trembled in fear; you ran your life out to the Fortress of Solitude. The monsters crawled up out of the water. Its slithered movement mimicked a snake, but it didn't have any problem crawling up without things to latch on. 

 You screamed as both of the monsters chased you. Run as fast as your legs allow you. This haunted house event might be too much for you. When you can see an oval object that looks like it can be a big mirror or a huge door, your gloved palms immediately bang on it. "Open the door!" You screamed. When the door finally opened, the two snake-like monsters that chased you suddenly disappeared.

 "Oh— oh my god. Oh my god…," you chanted as you let yourself drop down on the floor. 

 "I see you finally make it." 

 Your face turned to the left. In front of you, stood up tall and proud, Clark Kent with his superman costume. He's just so big. If you compared your tiny body to him, you definitely, nothing.

 You replied to Superman's bright smile with a scowl. Slowly you got up from the floor and cleaned your skirt. "Isn't that just too much? What if I fell to the pond? I can't swim, you know?"  

 He seems surprised, "apologized my lady. It was something the organizer will handle. I don't think they mean any harm."

 "Yeah...yeah… right." you walked closer to the hero and already fished out your mobile phone. "So… what did I need to do now I meet you, Superman?"

 "Hmm… most attendants ask for pictures. Some of them spent time just talking with me. Since you are the last one, you can take as many pictures as you like and of course. If you have any questions about my protection for the earth, I will gladly answer it." The tone in his voice was more soft than authoritative. 

 Think of not sabotaging your Halloween any longer; you tried to forgive the silliness of the whole new level of scary from this haunted house. It's hard not to show off your brattiness in this kind of situation. Still, you reminded yourself that he was someone you weren't familiar with—practically a stranger.

 Gave him a sweet smile, you took several pictures with him. At one time, you tried to bat your eyelashes at him and asked for a picture where you sat on his lap. You spent a solid 15 minutes talking to the handsome alien. Your fingers touched his biceps here and there. You knew that he knew what you were implying, but he didn't refuse you either. At least not blatantly.

 "I apologized, my dear, but I think it's already time." Superman gently put you back on your feet. You gave him an upset face, but you knew it's time to go home. You bid the handsome man goodbye and sneaked a kiss on his cheeks. There's a twinge of pink on his cheeks, and you jump triumphantly at that reaction. Of course, behind his back.

 Following the word of 'exit' behind the piles of the crystal-like shape props, you opened the door. The scenery in front of you caught you off guard. The harshed white tundra scenery was replaced by now dark, almost jungly like one. Unconsciously you stepped back and turned your body to come back to the exit door. How shocked you were when it vanished. Disappear without a trace.

 As far as your eyes could see, it's only darkness and mist. Only the full moon aided your visions. The exhalation of your breath came out like a plume of white steam. It's definitely colder here than the fake Krypton one. The cold air seeped into your skin quickly as if you were actually in the deep of a forest. 

 With a loud sigh, you walk straight. You tumbled and fell down on your knees as your boots got caught with something: either roots or a massive branch. 

 Tired and frightened, you screamed loudly. You weren't sure if this was the continuation of the haunted house or not, but what you want right now just to be back in your apartment and soaked in a warm, relaxing bath. 

 "Get me out of here!" you yelled again. There's a lot of sounds as if a lot of people stepping on branches. A screeching sound of an owl surprised you, but you tried to follow its direction with your ears. 

 There's no way you will wait here and do nothing. Oh...my phone! You fished out your smartphone, but it showed no signal. "Shit!." you muttered. 

 The sounds from a far away crept closed, and you knew it. "You can do it! There's nothing more frightening than that monster snake." tried to encourage yourself; you stood up and slowly navigated. You followed the noises that now closer, like an animalistic growl. It was so intense you can feel all the goosebumps rise up your skin. 

 You weren't sure how long you have been walking, but you stopped suddenly when there's not only a pair but like 7 pairs of reddish eyes glowed in the dark. 

 "Come here, little lamb. Don't follow that voice." a vaguely familiar voice distracted you from stepping forward. 

 "Who the fuck are you, and why you get in my way just now." your voice came out hoarse. There's a twinge of fear in it, and you knew it. You felt like backed down wasn't the best option you had right now.

 "I said, come here, or else I can't even save you when they get you." 

 You stilled as if you didn't hear him talking to you. "Wasn't this still one of the tricks from the haunted house? To let the people scramble in fear?" 

 "Are you out of your mind? Come here right now, or I left you to death. They will either rip you apart or play your body like a ragdoll before one of them eats you." 

 You screamed in horror as one pair of red eyes slowly came out. It's huge. Almost four feet of canine shook its fur. 

 You were hyperventilating right now. Body rooted to the ground as you were surrendered. Welcoming your fate. 

 "Fuck!" 

 You heard a curse from behind your back. Maybe the stranger gave up and left you alone to be eaten by the wolves. 

 The scrunched sound of leaves crushed was loud. Suddenly you felt strong arms hauled you upside down. 

 Your eyes faced the skin of someone's back. You craned your neck a little bit to get a better view of the wolf. Screamed escaped your lips when you saw not only one but all of them, in a pack, chased both of you. 

 "Stay still." The stranger yelled. 

 Did the best thing to not get thrown out by his weird, fast speed, you secured your thumbs in his belt loops. He ran, escaped the pack inside the deep of what looked like a pine forest. 

 You weren't sure how long you ran with him, but you felt that he's finally slowed down. 

 When the thud thud sound reached your ears, you opened your eyes and saw that the stranger walked up a stair.  

 You felt nauseated when he suddenly put you to sit on something that was apparently a countertop. The rushes of blood that circulated through your body made you regain your sense of surroundings. 

 "Where am I?" you didn't mean to add an ungrateful tone in your sentence, but it was too late.

 The stranger eyed you like you were some sort of ungrateful bitch, which maybe you are. "At my cabin," he said flatly.

 You haven't had time to look at him in the forest, but now, under the actual lighting inside his house, what you saw might instantly make you drooled, which you already did right now. Stand up in front of you, a shirtless beefy tall man that's definitely more than six feet tall. He has short dark brown hair with a somewhat thick mustache that's complemented by a stubble. The front strands of his hair were loose and slightly curled. Looks likely due to all the running.  

 The sudden chill of air made you shiver, and he didn't miss your reaction. He left you for a minute and came back with a rug. The sudden heat from it, when he draped the fabric on your shoulder made you let out a gasp of satisfaction. 

 But the next thing you know, he ripped your stocking. You were shocked, eyeing him in horror. "What the fuck are you doing?!" You threw whatever things that's on your reach. The loud sound of glass hit the wall, and the strong grip on your wrist instantly made your stop.

 "Be still!" His azure irises left no room for confrontation. When you felt a sting on your knees, that's when you realized that he just pressed some gauze on it. Likely soaked with alcohol first. There's quite a prominent stain of blood on your legs, and it almost made you nauseated. 

 "If you stop acting like a brat, you'll heal faster." He looked at you with that cocky smile of confidence. "Understood?" 

 You just nodded at him. He continued to clean the blood and inspect the wounds. The position where you were sitting right now made it easier to study him carefully. 

 Although you felt the temperature decreased significantly, the beefy stranger in front of you appeared very sweaty. 

 Immediately your gaze ran down to his neck and continued its way to his chest and his abs. The unmistakable bulge under his pants made you squirm unconsciously. You were in a haze of fear and lust; you definitely insane. 

 "Wha— what's your name, sir?" 

 His strong gazed felt as if his eyes alone can subdue you. Maybe he has these laser eyes like Cyclops, your inner thought buzzed with speculation.

 "August. My name is August Walker. What's your name, little lamb?" 

 How dare this man call you a little lamb? You cleared your throat and told him your name and where you were from.

 "New York? It's pretty far from here." He patched you up nicely. The water-resistant gauze looked really neat pressed on your knees and some on your shin. You were impressed.

 When your eyes returned to August, you gave him a smile that you hoped looked like a smile of gratitude. Not the kind of smile you always presented to any potential partner in bed, sultry, and flirtatious.  

 "I— I haven't said anything but— thanks. Thank you for saving my life." Your left fingers instinctively pat his right arms. The feeling of his skin startled you. It's warm; in fact, it felt like he had a very high fever.

 "Are— are you alright? Your temperature feels off." 

 "Don't mind me. Just take care of yourself." 

 You knew there's something off with him, but you weren't sure if you had a clear mind to think right now. Not with the wolf pack outside and his words on New York being far away from here. Where the fuck am I? 

 "I… I have a—,"

 "I suggest you stay here if you don't want to meet them."

 "But I…,"

 "You can use the bedroom there," his hand pointed to the door on the far end. "Feel free to use anything you want. Just don't come to the basement. I will meet you after a couple of days, and we figured things out." 

 His authoritative voice and dominant persona immediately made you want to counter his suggestion. The funny thing was, looked like he sensed it.

 He approached you, face just inches away from you. Your eyes immediately glanced away from the delicious plane of his sweaty chest. His fingers drew your chin up, so both of your eyes were at the same level. "Do what I said, understand?. Thrust me; you don't want to know the consequences if you violate my suggestion."

 Suggestion, my ass! Your inner mind ready to throw insults at him, but you quickly held it back. In the end, you nodded at him obediently.

 —

 That night you were restless. But in a weird sense, you felt comfortable staying in that cabin. The first night after August left you to your own devices, you had been pretty careful. Not touched a lot of things except food and items that help you with your long bath. 

 His cabin was quite spacious. The interior was a mix of something slicked and modern with an equal touch of classic. Tried to look homey. Not to mention his bathroom, it's super luxurious and made you feel at home instantly. Reminded you of your ex (sugar daddy's) bathroom. 

 Since you couldn't find another bedroom in that cabin and you don't feel like sleeping on the couch, you slept in his bed instead. After all, he said you can use the bedroom there. Still wearing your red riding hood costume, you slipped under the soft comforter. 

 After that, you woke up feeling a bit groggy. Aimlessly wandered around the kitchen, you weren't sure what to do first. Tried collecting your bearing, you tried to make a coffee. Or any equivalent things of it. Everything felt different; you just knew it. When the only thing you could find was several jars that you assumed were granules of tea, you brew it. You sat on the sofa that faced up a lake. The wall was made of glass, making everything well seen. 

 You walked closer and gazed at the vast pine forest in front of you. The trees were tall and big, so majestic. Somewhat it's different from the pine trees you usually see. The lake in front of you looked like it had two different colors, fusion together with weird looking fishes and plants that should grow on the land instead of water. Where the fuck am I? 

 The next day, you woke up feeling a little bit refreshed. You changed your slutty costume into one of the clothes you found in his closet. It was so soft and comfy. You knew when things were from high-quality material.  

 You continued your days by drinking your tea, ate whatever breakfast you can munch, and read a book that has these unusual fonts. You were sure it wasn't in the alphabet, but one day you absentmindedly swipe your fingers on some of the pages, and the font changed. Hell, it even translated into English in an instant. You were definitely impressed. 

 One thing you are sure of was, this place was strange. Wherever you were right now, it didn't look like it's on earth. Or the earth that you knew. Why were you so calm? Because you already freak out. After you freak out, you also wondered, did the haunted house event organizer realized that they were the culprit behind what the fuck happened to you right now? Did your housemate recognize that you weren't home for days? Or maybe she thought you fuck the Superman or perhaps found another sugar daddy? It was so absurd yet so real.

 The last two nights, you were struck in awe as your eyes were spoiled by two moons. Two fuckin moons. It was always quiet at night, but you heard all the howls that you suspected likely from the pack of those giant wolves.   

 It was pretty late, almost midnight. You finally found your small bag hindered under the sofa that evening. Now…, now you had some time to check it. The first thing you checked was if there's a signal. Definitely no signal at all. 

 You curled up on August bed while swiping the pictures on your phone. When you scrolled your pictures with Superman, you realized why August seems familiar. It was none other than August having quite the same face, the same build, even somewhat similar voices with Superman. 

 "Fuck...maybe I should ask August if he would like to be my Daddy while I'm here." Imagining him spoiled you with gifts and other physical attention made you chuckled at yourself. 

 Your fingers instinctively crawled under the gray long sleeve shirt you borrowed from his closet (again). Your brain projected an image as if it was August's hands that ran on your upper thigh. Find its way quickly to your wet core. Two fingers slipped under the black lace panty. The panty that you need to wash daily due to no other replacement available. Left you a couple hours with only his buttoned-up shirt without anything underneath. 

 The sound of a loud howl startled you. It was as if it circled you in close range. Moved as fast as you can, you snatched the oversize robe on you. Your eyes tried to creep behind the curtain in the bedroom. 

 You knew the owner of this cabin stated that you can't go to the basement. You wouldn't be so lucky if that giant wolf found you first and broke in. Although you haven't been really out of the cabin, you tried to inspect a little bit and found it odd that this cabin was apparently a treehouse-style cabin. How come there's a basement in the house.

 You exit the bedroom and go to the kitchen when you last saw August a couple nights ago. Next to the slick wooden cabinet was a particular thing that looked like a door. The surface of your palms works like a stethoscope, felt as if something with pressure from your hands. You tried not to get disturbed by the nonstop howl outside. When you hear something as if the door was shifted, you immediately step back. 

 "Oh my, finally…," you slipped inside the small door when it opened automatically. It was a small narrow corridor-like, and it was dark. Walk inside carefully, you follow the path that leads you to another door. The metal door let out a weird creaked as you pushed it open. 

 "Didn't I tell you not to come down here?" 

 Shocked was evident in your face when you heard his rather gruff tone. You step over, closer to where he sat, that looks more likely an even bigger size of the bed than the one he had upstairs.    

"Don't —,"

 He warned you, but you being you, could never obey orders. Although challenging, your eyes finally adapt to the only natural light from the glass wall. That said, you were totally confused as you can see the lake parallel to your eyes. 

 "What the… wait, how there's even a basement down here? Last time I checked, the cabin is a treehouse?"

 "It's camouflage. No one can't see it or enter from outside."

 "Holy… why there's a three moon?" you switched your gaze from the moon to August. Curiosity got the better of you when you saw his irises were now pale blue. You can still see the outer form that is August, but something was off. 

 A gasp escaped your lips as August rose up from the bed. The powerful moon shone his feature. He was taller, bulkier, and dangerous as he stalked towards you slowly. Your heart thumped erratically as you were cornered. Back supported by the glass wall as now you can see August in his other form. 

 "Holy shit. Wha—what are you?"

 "Told you not to go here, and you just can't listen, little lamb." his smirk turned maniacal as he looked at the fear on your face. His white fangs, longer than usual. His fingers also look unusual, claw-like. 

 "Are you— are you a werewolf?" 

 "Well...you can say that. I'm half human half wolf if you are curious." 

 "So why— why did you save me?"

 The tip of his nose inched closer to yours. You held your breath when his warm skin touched you. It moved to your left cheek and stopped near your ear. "I'm curious," he whispered.

 "I haven't really met a pure human in the same age range. So I have followed you since I saw you step out of that door. I follow you until you meet the other wolf pack, and I decide to help you instead of fulfilling my need." 

 "What need?" you asked him, dumbfounded.

 "This," he pulled away from you, his claw-like finger pointed out below his hip. Focusing on the long and hard appendage that was unmistakably, his cock.

 "Oh—I- I'm sorry?" you gave him your best apologetic face. Eyes seemed eager to stare longer, but you gazed away quickly. Wait, why did you apologize to him? You cleared your throat, "I— I actually not sure what I should do to help?" tilted your head to the right, you looked him in the eyes, almost challenged him.

 Despite almost getting eaten by wolves, August's menacing presence didn't really scare you. Maybe the fact that he was still human and less scary made it easy for you. Not to mention he's hot too, with all his glory. 

 His somewhat evil chuckled sent shivers down your spine. "If you really wanted to help, I think you know what to do, don't you?"

 "W-wait—is—does this mean we 'mate'?" you gave him a somewhat weird expression. "And—and you bite me, give me marks that I'm yours? And knot me, and I will have a litter of puppies, and I become your omega—,"

 His pale blue eyes stared at you as if you grew two heads. It softened immediately as he smiled. Broad one showed you a set of white teeth with extra long fangs. 

 "Oh, my little lamb...what have you read?"

 "Err— Omega verse? Fanfic?"

 He blinked. Gave you a quizzical expression.

 "It's— it's erotica. Where mostly the character you know—," you darted your eyes away from August. "—mate, err have sex. Mostly was written very explicitly."

 "Go on." He said.

 "They are wolves, scenting, imprinting. An alpha mates with omega, and it's been told in a variety of plots possible. Sometimes two alphas fight too." You were breathless. You didn't realize you explained it to him in a quick, incoherent way. 

 You staggered backward as he came closer, forgetting that you already cornered. His long fingers reached out to the white robe you put on you. Although his fingers had claws that looked alarming to you, his hand still skillfully unfastened the robe.

 "That's a bit of an exaggeration, I think. Pack and hierarchies usually form just for a mating season; they hunt together for food and shelter in the winter. We might be scenting people, I guess. After all, we have a very sensitive sense of smell. But no, we don't bite our mate." He took off the robe from your body, left you only with his grey buttoned-up shirt.

 "Well...I love that you are wearing my shirt as if you are mine already."

 You purse your lips at him. "Why aren't you in a pack? Isn't it a mating season?" 

 "I mostly can control myself during the full moon. That's the advantage of being half-human. I don't need to transform myself into a wolf and be in a pack. But I am an alpha if that's what you are curious about."

 "Can-can you turn back to your human form? Not like—you know, you aren't in your human form, bu—," your words were cut off by his thumb on your lips. 

 "You talk too much, aren't you, little lamb…," August leaned down and touched his lips to yours. Your first reaction was to freeze since you were afraid of his fangs. But his surprisingly soft lips coaxed you relentlessly, making you surrender as you closed your eyes. Opening your mouth, his tongue sneaked past your lips easily. His fangs poke at your lower lips, but it didn't hurt.

 The non so innocent kiss became more desperate. Your once shied tongue now dances together with August. Your once clasped palms that were situated on top of your chest now scraped at his shoulder. 

 Your eyes fluttered open as August nipped down from your jaw to your neck. Forgotten, you even close your eyes in the first place. His claw-like fingers unbuttoned his shirt on yours without difficulty, left you only in your black lace panty. 

 The feeling of temperature as if dropped significantly made you glued your body to August. Smooth skin of your chest pressed to his hot hairy one, seeking warmth. One hand secured behind your back while the other palm on your ass. Massage the globe there. 

 "Ohh…" you gasped as you felt his finger on your clothed core. 

 "Hmm… wet already, I see." he let the pad of his finger move up to your clit, while the movement of the claw added sensation to your already. Seeing your reaction, he repeated it a couple times. Made you a mess with only one of his fingers.  

 Arched your body a little bit, you were thrilled to see his expression. Traveled your hands down from his hairy chest; your eyes still focused on his face, while your palms found their way to his hard cock. 

 "Oh, so big…," slowly at first, you ran your hands at the tip of his cock. Even without looking at it, you knew it's definitely bigger than any cock you've ever seen. 

 Eyes widened as your hand slid down to the base. The other weighed his balls. "Holy…," your eyes looked down, stared in awe at his cock. 

 "Careful little lamb, you drooled on it."

 "Who's not?" You eyed him in disbelief.

 August let out a weird laugh, "I expect you to worship it, then." He looked at you with a bemused expression as you quickly worked on his length. Stroked it up and down repeatedly. 

 You go down on your knees, eyes crossed as you focused on his slit that oozed pre-cum. Unconsciously, you stuck out your tongue and brushed it on his slit. Wrapped your right hand at the base of his cock, your gaze rose up to meet his. Left handheld on his upper thigh for support as your lips covered the heat of his cock. You bobbed your head calculatedly as you accommodate him halfway. 

 "Such a good little lamb for your wolf, aren't you." August's right hand was at the back of your head as he nudged you none too gently. Made you choke at his cock, and pulled it out from your mouth. You gazed at the mix of your saliva and his precum in awe. But it didn't last long as August pulled you to your feet and picked you up. 

 He climbed up on the bed with you and laid on his back. He situated your hips and pulled it closer, so your opening was hovering on top of his face. On all four, for him. August was rewarded with a yelped and a moan as his tongue licked your clothed core. 

 The sound of fabric being ripped made you turn your head to the right. "That's my only pa— ohhh," your protest died right away as his tongue lapped your opening. The feel of his claws as he spread your ass cheeks added wonder to your pussy. 

 Trying to keep yourself busy, you swallowed the head of his cock for a starter. His cock was too big for you; your mouth can only allow half of it. Diligently, you tried to move your tongue while you suck on his cock, hands slid up and down. Feeling all the veins that encircled his length made you shuddered.

 August bucked his hips as you put one of your hands to massaging his balls. The action made you gagged as his cock entered further than before. But it didn't take a long time for you to stop due to his sudden attack on your pussy. 

 His tongue was not lapped at you anymore; it rammed inside your wet core like a starved man. You squealed as the end of his fangs scrapped at your now wet pussy. The pressure on your clit as the pad of his fingers made a circular motion left you breathless. It drove you to your high faster than you ever experienced. A surprised scream left off your lips as his tongue scraped your most sensitive part. Your body quivered as your inner walls spasm, hands held on his cock as you ride your high. 

 "Ohh— my god, ohh—my god—," you can still feel the kitten licked as August feasted on it. 

 "Ahh—that' s—that's good." You let your head rested on his left thigh. 

 "Now, for the main course." August's gruff tone pulled you back from your hazy state. His hard cock was evident on your right hand. 

 You felt your body shifted position, and now you were on your back. August spread your legs wide and shifted his position. The feeling of his heavy cock on top of your pussy made you nervous but also excited. Unconsciously you nibbled your forefingers while eyes traveled down to his long and hard cock. It made an up and down motion on your opening. You can feel your wet pussy clenched in frustration, ready to be filled. 

 "August please…," still nibbled at your fingers, you gaze at the wolf on top of you, one elbow supporting your upper body. He's so big, literally and figuratively. If you can't come back to your world, so be it. You didn't mind staying and being his plaything as long as he wanted you. 

 "Please, what my little lamb?" You pouted at that. You definitely weren't a little lamb. If anything, you should be the succubus. 

 "Please put that in me—," you writhed underneath him. 

 "Please put what?" His big body tower over you. His pupils dilated and only left a small ring of pale blue irises. His clawed fingers move up and down your thigh.

 "Ple—please, ohhhh, put that cock inside me! Fuck me, my wolf— nhhh—," your plead was answered when August suddenly pushed the head of his cock on your opening. 

 The back of your head fell to rest on the thick pillow as the intrusion of August's cock sent a surprising jolt on your body. You knew he's big. But when his cock finally spread your lips open and entered you, the overwhelming sensation was something you still didn't expect. 

 "Ohh— so big—," your pussy clenched immediately when August tried to push deeper but also slowly. The noticeable ridge of his vein scraped at your inner wall deliciously. With closed eyes, you gripped the edge of the pillow as you mumbled about how full you feel right now. 

 "Work your clit for me. Yes...make that tight pussy cream on my cock."

 "Oh—like this?" Your fore and middle fingers slowly pulled the hood and made a circular motion as August asked. 

 "Yes… Just like that…."

 It didn't take you long enough to feel the fast buildup on your lower belly. Something that never happened before. "Ohh—yes—I'm going to cum, my—ahhh," you work your clit faster as August cock made a shallow fuck inside you. 

 "Yes, cum on my cock, my little lamb. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for your wolf." His wolf tone deliciously affected your body. His growl sent an extra twitch on your clit. And you lose it when he thrust all the way inside your wet pussy. 

 You scream in ecstasy as your pussy quivered uncontrollably on his hard cock. You feel so full. The feeling of his cock all the way inside you made your brain feel as if it was submerged. Forgotten that you ever closed your eyes, you were rewarded by a sly smirk on August werewolf's face. His eyes were now all dark. His hair loosened, made the curls of it fall to his forehead. 

 "I see you enjoying yourself, my little lamb." His claws caressed your thigh gently.

 "Nnn—of course, I ahhh—I am." A little movement from August made you aware that his cock still inside you. Hard as a rock. 

 August lifted up both your knees and secured it with his hands. You lifted your upper body with your elbows as he retrieved his cock from your wet core. You gasped when you witnessed August pulled it out, inches by inches. Left only the head inside you.

 You moaned when he pushed again. Stretched you like no one else ever had. He did it slowly, knew that you still adapt to his girth. But the feeling when the tip of his cock scraped your most sensitive part every time he thrust inside you, you were tripped to your high even faster than before. 

 The moan of pleasure became incoherent as August sped up his pace. Repeated syllables of ahhh and ohhh accompanied your plead for him to fuck you like you were a female wolf. Released his pent up frustration to mate. 

 Both of you fuck like an animal who just needs to reproduce. Lust clouded the atmosphere in the room. Moaned and growled were sung like a prayer under the moonlight that shone its way to the basement. 

 His balls slapped against your ass every time he plugged in inside you. Sweats trickled down your body, and it looked even animalistic in August. His werewolf form was so majestic that you just wholly let him own you. 

 His feracious fucking looked like almost to its limit. The buzzed on your lower belly was ready to explode, but you held it.

"Fuck!" He growled.

 "Uhh—uhh—uhh—cum in me. Yes—cum in me, my wolf— filled me up with your thick hot cum!" You pleaded like a bitch in heat. 

 August slammed his cock deep inside you as he screamed and let out a long howl. The feel of his warm cum inside you triggered your orgasm. You wail as your inner walls contracted and squeezed his cock. Spurt and spurt of his cum filled your womb to the brim. Something that you never allowed any of your partners to do in the past. 

 You didn't realize that you lock both your ankles behind August ass. But also you sensed something changed. August was draped on top of your body, head sneaked at the crook of your neck. Still, in a haze caused by the release of oxytocin in your bloodstream, you missed the way August kissed turned into something more. He bit you. 

 The still clouded brain of yours pop-up an image of you becoming August omega. His only mate. Bear a litter of pups for him and live happily ever after in his house, in his world. Your pussy unconsciously clenched at his cock that was still inside you. You never really said this to anyone, but you imagine you live in another world since the first time you ever read a story about omega verse. 

 You mewled when the biting stopped. Maybe August bit you just for fun. When he craned his head up to look at you, something was different. His eyes turned back to his azure color. His fangs now short, back to its regular human teeth, and his body wasn't as hairy as he's before. He's practically not in his werewolf form anymore. 

 "You changed? Why?"

 He looked at you with his quizzical expression. "You wanted me to return to my werewolf form?" 

 You glanced away from him and kind of embarrassed to declare that his werewolf form was way hotter than his human form. Not that his human form wasn't hot either. Damn, you definitely bang him every time you can, but his werewolf form just made you curl your toes in an instant. 

 You cleared your throat and looked him in the eyes, "I like it very much."

 "Well...the full moon is still in the sky for quite some time. Are you ready for the next round, my little lamb?"

 "Yes, my wolf." You purred seductively at him and witnessed in delight his transformation before your eyes.

***

Comment, like and reblog are highly desirable! Spread the filthiness lol 💋

[whump-cravings]

Bird in a Ditch

saw a prompt about someone being dumped on the side of the road and an idea started to form. I’ve also wanted to try a BBU type thing, so here it iiiiiis

Content Warnings: BBU, pet whump, winged whump, nonhuman whump, fantastic racism referenced, extreme disassociation, past torture implied, tbh this piece is pretty mild

Lemon shook xir head to try and clear fatigue, keeping xir eyes on the road as xe leaned forward to manually roll the window down. Cool air blasted xim in the face and behind xir neck, sending refreshing shivers down xir spine.

Something glowed gold on the road and xe jerked the wheel, sliding into the other lane. "Feathers?" xe said, throwing xir gaze to catch another glimpse of the obstacle, already pulling over.

A downed barn owl? xe wondered, flicking the hazards on. Getting xir phone out, xe searched the cabin for a blanket or something to wrap the little dude in. If it wasn't dead, anyways. I better hurry. Another car could come by at any time.

"Probably already dead but just in case—" Lemon muttered to xirself, trying to forestall disappointment before it began. Xe surfaced with a canvas tarp and hustled out into the night, boots hitting asphalt. Xe was a little ways away from the bird...

As the phone's flashlight caught feathers again, Lemon frowned. That looked a lot bigger than an owl. Maybe an eagle, or—

Maybe a whole goddamn person? Xe stopped at the side of the ditch, looking down in shock at the humanoid body connected to the wings. Xe'd never seen any birdfolk up close. They were rare in this part of the world, where everybody was pretty damn racist.

That was neither here or there. Lemon shook xir head, dropping the canvas and propping the phone and its light up before carefully finding the top of the person’s outstretched wing and trying to gently-gently-gently fold it towards their body.

How did I mistake them for an owl? These are huge! Xe felt soft clicking underneath hands through the feathers and bone. Now up close, the feathers didn't seem to shine with the golden luster Lemon had seen before, but were instead dull and dirty.

"Sorry, sorry," Lemon murmured, though the person hadn't stirred. Concern buzzed in the back of xir head as xe stepped around to the face-down body.

Lemon crouched, slipping a hand down the side of neck and searched for a pulse. Still warm—there. Xe let out a sigh of relief at the rhythm beneath xir fingers. "Didn't want to have to report a dead body tonight," xe chuckled.

Xe moved xir hand to the bird person's shoulder, gently shaking. No reaction. "Of course, you wouldn't be lying in a ditch if you could wake up," Lemon muttered, straightening. Xir gaze traveled down, and xe picked up the phone to get a better look.

The bird person was wearing only boxers, so there was a lot to see. Mostly, they were dirty. And the wings looked terrible. Whole patches of feathers were missing, and the ones that remained—Lemon suspected those weren't supposed to look so bedraggled. Xe shook xir head, sympathy turning in xir gut. Poor thing. Had they been mugged and then dumped, or maybe crash landed here?

The situation presented a problem. It’s one thing to bring home an animal, xe thought to xirself. This is a whole person. If they were awake, Lemon would have given them a ride to wherever they needed to go and the little cash xe had on xirself.

Xir mother's voice rattled in the back of xir head. It wasn’t as dangerous for Lemon to pick up people off the side of the road as for xir sister, but their mother always had some new story about somebody being shot and having their car stolen when they mentioned picking somebody up.

Xe waffled. I could wait until they wake up... Assuming they didn’t die of exposure, and assuming xe didn’t want any sleep tonight. Xe glanced around at the dark road, then back down at the stranger. If they were unconscious like this and didn’t smell of alcohol, they probably weren’t that dangerous. And somebody who felt less neutral about birdfolk might come along to finish them off.

Lemon sighed, already knowing xe couldn’t leave them here and trying to figure out how to get them over and into to the truck. Maybe xe could carry them there, but the wings would probably drag. Xe tried imagining walking backwards while carrying them from the front. Could xe lift them high enough? Probably not.

"Tch." That wouldn't do. After a moment's consideration, xe looked back at the canvas.

It took some pulling and maneuvering, but soon Lemon was pulling the bird person across the road on top of the canvas. Xir sweatshirt was tucked underneath their head, keeping them safe from rocks.

"Expected you to be a lot heavier, honestly," Lemon said. Maybe the weight was normal for adult birdfolk.

It would have been way more comfortable for them, Lemon was sure, to be in the cabin, but xe wasn’t sure xe could manage that without damaging their wings further. So, xe carefully lifted them by the front and laid them face down in the truck bed. It was not graceful and xe was a little relieved they weren’t awake for it. Xe tucked the sweatshirt back under the person's head.

"Home is just a few minutes away," xe promised as xe tried folding up their wings, worried about the wind catching them or about hypothermia setting in. Xe unfurled the canvas with a shake, then draped it over the bird person's body and wings to block the wind, securing the cloth at the corners with bungee cords.

Looks like I'm trying to hide a dead body, Lemon thought when xe put the tailgate up. "Hang in there, buddy."

Lemon would have liked to speed home, but the bed's occupant had xem driving far more carefully than normal, particularly around corners. When xe got to the apartment, xe pulled into xir spot in reverse. It was a much shorter distance to carry somebody from the truck bed to the door, so Lemon did—xe wasn’t entirely sure xe could get them through the door otherwise. It was already a hassle to get them past one door, the next, and then settle them on the floor of the small bathroom against the wall.

Xe closed and locked the front door, then flicked lights on. As xe stepped back into the bathroom, careful to avoid any errant limbs, xe started.

The bird person's eyes were open.

"Hey, you're awake," Lemon exclaimed.

But the person didn't seem to hear Lemon--they hardly seemed aware of their surroundings at all, staring straight forward. Shit, had they been awake the entire time and Lemon just hadn’t noticed? How awkward that would be! And...

Xir realized their face was covered in scars. Unable to help xirself, xir eyes were drawn down. Mottled bruising covered their ribs, long-healed scars past that and the dirt. Same with their legs. What had happened to them? Was this just the result of being birdfolk here?

Xe took a steadying breath, crouching down. "Hey, can you hear me? Can you look at me?"

Finally, the tiniest response. Topaz eyes slid fractionally towards Lemon's center of mass, but nothing else. Their expression and muscles remained listless.

"Good, that's—no no no, come on, don't do that," Lemon cajoled in gentle frustration as the bird person closed their eyes. What am I supposed to do with this? Xe scrubbed xir tired face with one hand. What were the symptoms of a concussion?

"Let me get you something to drink," xe said. "And maybe eat?"

No response. The only sign they were still alive was the gentle rise and fall of their chest.

Lemon wearily got back to xir feet, ambling into the kitchen for a glass of water and some—did bird people eat normal food? They looked plenty human. But what if they were allergic to stuff? Xe grabbed a small variety of snacks—string cheese and pepperoni from the fridge and a little baggy of trail mix. Bundling the food into a paper towel in one hand and holding the glass of water in the other, xe returned to the bathroom.

"Here we go," Lemon said as xe returned, kneeling at arm's length to set down the array of food. Xe set the cup of water closer still. "Little bit of food, little bit of water."

Their eyes were open again, looking down at Lemon's offerings. Maybe. It was hard to tell for sure, since they seemed unfocused. They made no movement to accept.

"Does your head hurt?" Lemon tried. "If you have a concussion, we should..." Xe trailed off. I don't have money for an emergency doctor visit. "Have you lie down, probably."

It's like talking to a rock. "I'll give you some space."

Getting back to xir feet, Lemon went back into the kitchen and washed xir hands. Xe probably should have done that earlier, but if they haven’t died of dirt already, they probably won't from a little on their pepperoni.

"Might as well prep a meal," xe mumbled, since xe couldn’t sleep until xir guest was settled. Xe took a moment to draw up some videos online about birdfolk and birds in general, then got to work with the food.

About twenty minutes later, everything was assembled in the pressure cooker. Lemon hadn't heard anything from the direction of the bathroom. Anxious, xe checked on xir guest.

I'm going to have someone die on my floor of starvation and atrophy, Lemon thought. The bird person was in the same exact position xe’d left them. Their tourmaline-brown gaze still rested on the food and water.

Lemon chided xirself. They could be a paraplegic for all xe knew. Maybe their eyes were all they were able to move. It would explain their weight.

This thought in mind, xe crouched a little closer to them. "Hey," xe said. "Can you blink twice if you understand me?"

Their eyes slowly rolled back up to Lemon's chest. Noticeably, they didn't blink.

Lemon laced xir fingers together and pulled them apart, repeating the motion a few times while they thought. Could be he was a paraplegic foreigner? Hells.

Reaching out slowly, Lemon tapped their hand, before picking it up and turning it over. Xe froze.

On their wrist was a black barcode.

After staring for far too long, Lemon let out a shaky, "O-oh."

I'm going to have someone's slave die on my floor. Xir anger towards the Box Boy industry stirred—a regular feeling. The legalized trafficking wasn’t something xe could do much about, other small donations here and there to liberation and activist groups.

Who had dumped this poor bird on the side of the road? Where was the owner? Lemon's eyes went to their patchy wings.

"Can't be sure they didn't do this to you," xe said softly, jaw clenching at the idea of it. They could have very well escaped and ended up in that ditch on their own, just to get away from the abuse written on their body. It matched up with the stories Lemon had heard and read about how owners fucked their slaves over.

Fuck, and it wasn't even like this man was nondescript. Birdfolk were rare enough, a Pet bird was sure to be noticed in a crowd. Stealing a Pet was grand larceny, and Lemon didn’t want to think about how much an exotic specimen might go for.

Calm down. So far all you've done is provide aid. That's not theft.

But Lemon's hands shook as xe held onto the bird person's, because xe knew xe couldn't—

That's a problem for Future Lemon, xe decided, taking calming breaths. There were groups xe could contact, but not tonight. Tonight, this poor bird needed a safe and calm place to recuperate. Lemon could provide that.

[mikrowrites]

•aaron tveit headcanons•

a/n: aight guys I’m not dead! i haven’t really had the time to write much, but aaron tveit lives in my heart rent free so here’s these dumb kinda specific really long headcanons:

so you both probably met pretty early into aaron’s career

it’s probably safe to say both of you would have the same if not similar careers, broadway and acting

and though aaron was lucky enough to get his big break, you had unfortunately not (yet) and had to wait tables for a couple years after college

(insert waitress/customer troupe here)

you worked at a restaurant close to the theatre district after undergrad and aaron was starring in Hairspray

the boy saw you and was w h i p p e d

would come to the restaurant like 4 days a week

kinda creeped you out ngl

finally got the balls to actually start a conversation and boom: instant friends

and you guys were friends for a while! dumbass and chaotic conversation was a YES

“did you know barcodes scan the white space and not the black lines”

“WAIT WHAT??”

“how many orders of fries would put me in the er?”

“uhhh... 30”

you first caught feelings when aaron invited you to see him as Fiyero in Wicked

was it his amazing talent and charm? or was it his tight pants? you’d never tell

but nevertheless, oh shit! the friends to lovers troupe!

aaron is a manly man™️ and will always say he asked you out first

which is somewhat true, but you always argue the dinner you took him to after that show was the first date

because that’s when you first kissed him

and just like that! he asks you out!

first date is literally a d r e a m

no romantic dinner, no dress and tux

there was wine tho

you and aaron watched a Yankees game and got drunk off your asses laughing and screaming at the tv and annoying aaron’s roommate

did it end with both of you passed out on his couch cuddling? maybe it did

best. first. date. ever.

the second date WAS a nicer one, going out to eat and wandering the streets of New York City

and yes, some dates were ABSOLUTELY a par 9 on a golf course

you didn’t really put a label on your relationship for a while

because aaron’s career began to take off with next to normal and you finally got your big break on a national tour!

it was pretty bittersweet, though

you and aaron had a healthy conversation about your relationship, and decided you weren’t quite dating yet, but still talking. you guys wanted to see if you could manage the whole “gone for months at a time” thing

and you could!

skype, texting, and random 1 am phone calls

one time you feel asleep during one of the calls, and aaron just smiled and watched you sleep (not in a creepy way guys)

when you came back from tour you’d think you had come home from war

he all but tackles you into a hug, and kisses you

“let’s make this work”

so lo and behold! you were dating!

takes you to meet his family on thanksgiving

they love you

attending the tonys together, which was basically the first time you two confirmed a relationship

he said “I love you” first

a couple years would go by, catch me if you can and such, and you make your broadway debut!!

you’re def a triple threat

aaron’s so gushy about it, constantly brags about you

rumor has it he cried watching the opening night, denies it every time

literally glued to you for the entire after party, he’s just seriously so proud and in love awwh

and then he books les miz and graceland

you’re unable to travel to London w him since you’re in your own show, and it hits both of you hard

so what does this mfer do?

it’s the morning he leaves for shooting and you’re dropping him off at the airport

“hey when i get back from filming wanna get married?”

“sure”

totally gave you a little prize machine plastic ring at the airport

you guys are literally SO NONCHALANT about it as everyone around you goes insane

“i’m engaged, i guess”

the internet blows up because they actually can’t figure out if you guys are serious or not

don’t worry, aaron actually proposed properly with a proper ring eventually

you still wear the plastic ring on a chain around your neck for a while tho

you both decide to get an apartment together

domestic couple things

Your neighbors probably hate you from the amount of times you both have “sing-offs”

slow dancing in the kitchen, laundry day, watching football games together gets aggressive

i firmly believe that you aren’t a Dallas Cowboys fan

the biggest fights you have honestly is about the NFL

in all seriousness there is still small conflict every once in a while, but you both are fantastic at communication

attending the oscars with aaron

“yeah but lOoK aT mY BeAuTiFuL FiAnCeE”

you’d be lying if watching the oscars performance didn’t turn you on a bit

but ANYWAYS

you guys get married!

it’s definitely not a huge fancy wedding, just friends and family

you know for a FACT he’d sing “marry me a little” at the reception he so would

you guys dance all night

it’s adorable, his hand literally never leaves yours

you end up with a sinus infection from all the cake frosting he smears on your face

aaron felt really bad for it, so like a good wife you hold it over him for eternity

“remember that time we missed our flight to Belize because we were in the ER-“

“OH MY GOD—“

went to Belize to honeymoon eventually anyways

aaron was very much like that one john mulaney sketch

“that’s my wife!”

“hey! have you met my wife yet?”

“i love my wife”

life goes on for you two, you remain hopping from broadway show to show

aaron ends up working on his acting career more

lots of time apart, but that just makes the time together more precious

adorable phone contact names

“wifey❤️” and “hubby❤️”

you were on set a lot for rehearsals of Grease Live

you actually helped assist in some of the choreography from time to time

impromptu golf cart rides

and you get to watch it live! like, you were AT the carnival on the set!

you’re just really proud of your mans :,)

family and friends keep pestering you both to have kids

so you adopt a dog (MILES BBY I LOVE YOU)

also as a side note, you love Braindead

you laughed HYSTERICALLY during the salami sex scene

aaron filmed it and posted it on twitter

fast forward, you get offered to help choreograph a new show! woah! and you’d get to swing for it!

it’s super top secret tho, and you literally cannot tell aaron

you do eventually relent the information that you’re working on a new show, and the man doesn’t pry. he’s respectful like that.

you meet the team, and boy you are IN LOVE

auditions are fun, creating the choreo is exhilarating

you don’t hear about casting much at all tho

so when aaron walks into the studio you both immediately freeze

“wait what the f—“

“I KNEW IT!”

yup. you both were working on Moulin Rouge! and had NO clue

you both share (1) braincell

the lab went great, and soon you were on your way to Boston!

you HATE aaron’s longer hair, mostly because he won’t let you mess with it >:(

he eventually relents, and you teach him the secrets of “the man bun™️”

you also braid it a lot

“ow!”

“stop being a pussy about it”

or

“your hair’s the money maker don’t make me shave it in your sleep”

performing with your husband is a dream

sneaking looks on stage

aaron calls your frustrated choreo-instruction voice “mom voice” and the rest of the cast picks up on it

“no, it’s 7, 8! Up on 3, down on 5, 6, spin 7,8!”

“ok, mom!”

“SHUT UP, AARON!”

then broadway!!

the ricky-aaron lives

you had to go on for nini one performance and ricky teased aaron ALL DAY

you were totally in on it too

but aaron isn’t really the jealous type. he knows you are so in love with him, the same way he is in love with you

so basically he knew it was all fun and games

shenanigans backstage

one time during intermission you convinced aaron to give you a piggyback ride the ENTIRE 15 MINUTES

“hey aaron nice backpack”

small talk between scenes

like aaron would be sprinting to his next cue and you’d just

“i’m ordering domino’s for dinner pepperoni or sausage?”

“PEPPERONI!”

you both drink too much iced coffee, like people are actually concerned for you both

neither of you are party-ers really, but you can GET DOWN

i am convinced aaron can cook

like if he’d have a day off, you’d come home from an evening performance with a cooked meal and two wine glasses

never candles tho

not after the valentine’s day incident

BUT TO SUM IT ALL UP

y’all are cute :,)

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles)

“So, just so I understand this properly,” the Doctor began, looking from one Operator to the other with a disappointed look in his eye, “the two of you got into a fight over which one of you was supposed to be my bodyguard during today’s shift?”

Gravel sighed. “When you say it like that, it does put it in a different light...but Doctor, can we really trust her to protect you the way I can?”

“My duty is protecting him,” ShiraYuki retorted, eyes narrowing at her competitor, who’d managed to catch her left eye with a fist.

“And the two of you fighting over who can watch over me doesn’t make that any easier.” He sighed. “I need the two of you to come to some kind of understanding, so...I’m sending you both on a mission. Just the two of you.”

They shared a glance before the Zalak spoke up. “Doctor, are you sure about this? Who will protect you while I’m gone.”

“Funnily enough, we have several Operators who’ve taken my guardianship as their personal responsibility, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to find someone. Of course, if the two of you can come to an agreement right now, we won’t have to resort to that...” Silence. “Well, then. Madam Ch’en has been given the instructions; I suggest you find her and listen carefully to her briefing. Complete the mission, and come back ready and able to cooperate rather than eviscerate. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Doctor,” they said in unison.

It was probably best they didn’t catch that detail. “Good. Dismissed.”

“You just had to weasel your way into my time with the Doctor, didn’t you?” Gravel sighed as they left his office in a dark mood. “Why are you so obsessed with being his bodyguard, anyway?”

“My duty is protecting him. Yours?”

She blushed. “I...He’s very precious to me.”

“I see.” The Anaty kept silent for a moment before adding, “I agree.”

“You agree that he’s precious to me?” The Zalak asked, confused.

ShiraYuki shook her head. “I value him also...He’s been very kind to me.”

“So you do understand why I couldn’t just leave him with anyone else.” Gravel sighed. “But I’m still not okay with sharing him with you.”

“Understood. Perhaps in time.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. Madam Ch’en? Operators Gravel and ShiraYuki reporting as ordered.” 

“Good. Sit down.” The Lung of Lungmen gestured to a pair of empty chairs, waiting for them to sit before continuing. “The Doctor’s mission for the two of you is as follows: take this envelope and a shuttle to the location marked by these coordinates. Once you arrive, open the envelope for the rest of your instructions.”

“...No further orders?” ShiraYuki asked.

Ch’en shook her head. “No further orders. Dismissed.”

“What a strange assignment.” Gravel shook her head as they left yet another office. “What do you make of it?”

“Team-building.”

The Zalak shuddered. “Team-building? Why make this out to be such an important mission if that’s all it is?”

“Ninjas work alone,” ShiraYuki observed, “as do you.”

“But he only sent the two of us...Who do you think is taking up the watch?” Gravel wrung her hands at the thought.

Hang on - the Anaty was, too. “...I don’t know.”

“Neither do I.” She groaned. “This is the worst punishment he could’ve chosen for me.”

“For us,” her companion agreed.

Gravel hesitated before nodding. “Right, for us. Alright, I suppose we’re taking a shuttle...This one looks good.” *swipe* “Can you drive?”

“Yes.” ShiraYuki settled into the driver’s seat. “Coordinates?”

“I’ll put them in. Music?”

The Anaty shrugged. “Hard rock?”

“Really?” She giggled. “I would’ve thought you listened to something more traditional.”

“Understandable.” The ninja pressed on the gas as the knight connected her phone to the shuttle’s speakers, and their assignment began.

The drive was long - long enough anyone else would’ve stopped for dinner. This was a pair on a mission, however, so they pressed on...and arrived, several hours later, at a hotel. “This...this can’t be right,” Gravel declared as they parked. The coordinates indicated otherwise.

“Envelope?” The Zalak slit it open, read the letter inside...and cringed. “...That bad?”

“The Doctor wrote this himself, I can tell. ‘Gravel and ShiraYuki: A room has been reserved for the two of you for the next week. Resolve your quarrel and return before the end of your reservation.’”

ShiraYuki stared. “We...have resolved it.”

“You think so?” Gravel turned back to her. “So if we go back right now, what do we tell him?”

“...I see.”

The knight sighed. “Yes, as do I. Let’s find out which room is ours, eat dinner, and then we can figure out our plan.”

“Understood.” The Anaty paused by the driver side door as she closed it. “Good music.”

“Thanks. It’s an expression of my inner pain.” She said it with a smile.

The ninja nodded. “Same.”

“Really?” They walked through the hotel entrance. “Reservation for two by Rhodes Island? Was ninja training that stressful?”

“Yes...and more.” ShiraYuki took the spare key Gravel handed her and pocketed it as they walked to the first-floor diner.

After finding a table and browsing their menu, the Zalak had another question. “You said your duty is to protect the Doctor, but you also said he’s important to you. Which takes priority?”

“I...” She’d expected that to be much simpler than her feelings were making it. “...I am sworn to my Master.”

“Would you kill him if your Master told you to?” Gravel had a hand resting on her steak knife as if waiting for a sign of future betrayal.

The Anaty stared at the table before staring into the knight’s soul. “No.”

“...I can tell you mean it.” She smiled at her. “If you’d said you would, you wouldn’t have left this table.”

“Understood...What’s your favorite thing about him?”

The Zalak’s eyes flared open. “You really want to know?”

“I do.” ShiraYuki nodded. “He’s our common ground.”

“That’s true. Let’s see...Where to start?” Gravel’s eyes closed as she tried to decide which of her infinite elements of admiration was her favorite.

They ended up talking about the Doctor for the next three hours; ShiraYuki’s own elevated opinion of him nearly equaled the knight’s in some regards, and knowing the Zalak for five minutes is enough to know how much she can gush about her beloved Doctor given the chance. Their conversation continued through the entirety of their meal, up the stairs to their room, and for a while after they’d changed into their nightwear and were lying on the single bed that’d been reserved for them. Why they hadn’t been given a two-bed suite is anyone’s guess...but neither of them were all that bothered by it.

Eventually, however, the conversation trailed off, and they laid there, looking directly at each other, for a few minutes. It was ShiraYuki who spoke first. “Your shoulder’s marked.”

“Mmhmm.” Gravel slid her shirt down to display the barcode the Anaty was referring to. “Before coming to Rhodes Island, I was a slave...the Doctor bought my freedom.”

“I see. Was it difficult?”

She nodded. “It was.”

“I see.” The silence returned, but not for long. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t know what else to call my feelings for him. If this devotion I have for him isn’t love, what is it?...Do you?” The knight watched the ninja’s eyes attentively.

She hesitated. “I...I may be.”

“Hmm.” The Zalak thought for a moment. “Before tonight, I didn’t think I would find someone whom I could trust with his care. With you protecting him, however? It will be almost like I’m there watching over him.”

“I see...Thank you, Gravel.”

The knight smiled. “ShiraYuki is your real name, yes?”

“Yes.” The Anaty nodded. “Yours?”

“Senomy,” she replied.

ShiraYuki fell silent again. “You’re willing to watch over him with me?”

“I am,” Gravel agreed. “Although we might have to take it in turns.”

“Hmm...I wouldn’t like that. I want you with me as well.”

Her gaze became a somewhat shocked stare. “You want to stand guard together?”

“Yes. It’s...” The ninja took a moment to catch her breath. It must’ve been years since she talked this much with someone. “I’ve never met someone who so fully understood me.”

“I feel the same, honestly.” The knight’s gaze slipped from the Anaty’s for just a moment, a flicker as she noted that ShiraYuki had taken off her mask and was smiling subtly at her.

That moment was all it took for the ninja to make her move.

-------

About six and a half days later, the Doctor was greeted by Gravel’s voice at his door. “Doctor? We’re back~”

“Come in.” The Zalak entered and closed the door behind her. “Where’s ShiraYuki?”

“Here,” she whispered into his ear.

He jumped a little in his seat but quickly regained his composure. “I see. You’ve decided to work together, then?”

“We’ve decided to share our shift,” Gravel explained, beaming at him. “Among other things.”

“‘Other things?’ Well, that’s none of my concern.”

The ninja kissed him on the cheek. “It is.”

“...Is it, now?” He looked up at the knight, who was locking the door, and then to the Anaty next to him. “Making up for lost time?”

“We missed you so much.” ShiraYuki walked back over to the Zalak, kissing her as well, albeit square on the lips.

Gravel giggled. “You’re so thoughtful, Yuki~”

“As happy as I am that things have worked out,” the Doctor said, “remind me not to try this method with other Operators.”

“We will,” they replied as they turned to him in unison.

...He wasn’t going to get much work done today, was he?

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XXIX

After leaving the room and making their way back toward the central area of this level of Zegnautus Keep, a strange sound could be heard. Ignis stopped the group when he recognized the sound. Looking in Noctis' general direction, he asked, "Noct, do you hear that?"

The raven-haired boy glanced at his advisor in bewilderment. "Hear what?"

"I've heard this sound before—on the train, just before your weapons failed you. It's nearby, and it may hold the key to restoring your power."

As the four of them make their way across the catwalk leading to the central area of this level of Zegnautus Keep, the strategist stopped them again. "It's here."

Noctis stops at the large closed metal doors in the center of the enormous room. "This thing?" He places his hand against the doors and tries to open them. When they don't budge, he huffed out a groan. "Door's locked."

"It's coming from within. Is there no way through?"

Prompto swallowed hard before speaking up when he saw a familiar control panel by the door. "There's a way." The others look at him as he hesitantly steps up to the door's scanner and raises the back of his right wrist to it. He pulls the gemstone bracelet down a little ways so the scanner could read the barcode on his wrist. Successfully scanning it, the doors slide open. Prompto resumes speaking, staring off into the room, unable to make eye contact with the others. "So, MTs... They've got those codeprints...just like I do."

Noctis wasn't fazed at the new discovery. "Do they? Never looked."

"Yeah... So, as it turns out...I'm one of them. Not exactly something I could tell people growing up in Lucis. (Y/n) was the only one who knew the truth. At the time, she didn't tell me and I don't blame her. She had her own secret to hide, too." Tears stung his eyes and threatened to fall, but he refused to let a single one slide down his cheeks. "Still... You guys and (Y/n) are like...the only friends I've ever known. I just hope that things can stay the way they were."

"Whatever. Who cares where you were born?" Noctis remarked.

"I don't see you turning against us. Not now, or ever," Ignis added.

Prompto was able to lift his head and look at his companions. "Thanks, guys. Still...I can't change where I came from. What I am."

"Since when does where you come from matter to you? You never once treated me as a prince," the raven-haired boy stated. He then playfully punches Prompto's shoulder.

"He's got you there," Gladio said.

"Never so much as a "Highness"," the tactician added.

"And by the sounds of it, (Y/n) doesn't care either," Noctis spoke up again. "We're done here. C'mon, crown citizen."

Gladio steps over to Ignis to help guide him into the room. The shield gives Prompto's shoulder a friendly smack as they walk past. "You're one of us, right?"

Ignis stops and turns back towards the marksman, looking over his shoulder. "Unless you'd rather not be."

Prompto smiles with a nod. He glanced down at the gemstone bracelet, a single tear of joy slipping from his eye. "You were right, (Y/n)..." He covered it with his hand. Following his friends into the room, his heart was somewhat at ease.

Inside the room, they find the emperor's abandoned clothing laying upon the throne with no sign of the man. What was also located in the room was a large bank of computers, which are the cause of Noctis' lost powers. Without hesitating, the raven-haired boy rams his father's sword through the machines.

Prompto looked around in puzzlement. "So...did it work?"

"With the device down and out, Noct's power should be up and running," Ignis stated.

"Go on, try it," Gladio said, meeting the prince's gaze.

"All right. Moment of truth." Noctis holds out his hand and conjures a sword, resulting in Prompto to clap in celebration.

The shield smirked. "We're back, baby."

"Let's roll. We've still got to find (Y/n) and the Crystal."

Leaving the emperor's throne room, the boys were attacked by the gargantua daemon that caused trouble for Noctis earlier. The large daemon wasn't alone as more of its fellow daemons began manifesting. "Not you again," Noctis groaned.

"New friend?" Prompto questioned teasingly, summoning his pistol.

"You really need to pick 'em better," Gladio commented with a faint chuckle, readying his greatsword. Even Ignis summoned his daggers.

Leaping into the fray, the group took out the weaker daemons before targeting the gargantua. Before any of them could attack, the large daemon was set ablaze by bright flames. They stared at the burning adversary as it stumbled backwards, swinging its body around in an attempt to extinguish the flames. The sound of a blade slashing at its metallic skin caught their attention.

The gargantua daemon collapses to the floor, dead. Its body slowly dissipated into nothingness, revealing the person who slew it. "You guys were difficult to find," (Y/n) sighed, lowering the Creator's Blade. She combed a few (h/c) strands out of her face.

Gladio was the first to speak up. "We could say the same thing, short stuff. You and blondie had us worried."

"Are you well?" Ignis asked.

"I'm exhausted," she confessed. "But overall, I'm fine."

Noctis noticed the dried blood on her skin and clothes. "What happened to you?"

"A lot I'd rather not share at the moment." Her eyes drifted over to Prompto when realizing he hadn't said a word yet. "The only time I've seen you this quiet was when I surprised you for your birthday five years ago."

At her words, Prompto snapped. He ran over to her and hugged her tightly. It was a brief hug, but a sweet one. He pulled away, examining her arms and legs. "Y-You're not hurt?"

"There are some perks of being possessed by a god," she snickered. "One of them involves healing. I do need a break, though. Still a little weak from blood loss."

"Didn't we pass a dormitory somewhere?" Noctis asked his friends.

"Indeed, we did," Ignis replied. "We should gather our bearings and recuperate for a short while."

"Then to the dormitory we go."

The group left the large central chamber and walked through the hallways of Zegnautus Keep until arriving at their destination. Once inside the dorm, (Y/n) sat down on one of the beds with a huff. Prompto sat next to her while Noctis sat down on the bed across the way. Gladio stood beside the bed the couple was on while Ignis occupied a chair sat between the two beds.

(Y/n) crosses her legs, clasping her hands together in her lap. "It seems Prompto told you the truth."

"How'd you figure that out?" Noctis inquired.

"You were able to enter the emperor's throne room," she replied. "Does this mean...?"

Prompto places his hands over her clasped ones. "Everything's okay, (Y/n). You were right. The guys don't care."

"Then I guess it's my turn."

"You hiding something too, short stuff?" Gladio asked.

"Yeah." She turned her head and brushed aside her (h/c) locks once Prompto released her hands. She tugged down the collar of her outfit to reveal her own barcode. "My true master was Verstael Besithia. I'm an imitation created by his own hands after he killed his guardian after learning she was going to betray him."

"Hey, we welcome anyone who's willing to betray the empire," Noctis said. "Besides, you kicked plenty of imperial ass with us. I doubt you wanna go back."

"Hell no," she spat. "Even if I really wanted to, the only one that somewhat cared for me is dead. Hated him to the core."

"I still don't completely understand how you're still here. We killed the chief and by guardian law, you should be dead." That was when Prompto realized how his words sounded and quickly tried to recover. "I-It's not that I'm sad you're not gone! No way would I think that! I just wanna understand what happened."

"I'm a copy, not the real (Y/n). Verstael may have believed he brought her back from the dead, but in reality, he didn't. A clone is a clone, not the original. When I was created, I wasn't bound to a soul. That would explain why I'm still here."

Prompto glanced down at his bracelet. "But the gemstone..."

"Is artificial," she stated. "It's another device Verstael needed in order for his experiment to be deemed a success. Let's just say the man was thorough when it came to his experiments. He was quite meticulous with even the smallest details."

"I think I understand." Prompto flopped down on the mattress. "But there's another thing I don't understand."

(Y/n) cocked a brow. "And what's that?"

"How did someone like him make you?"

She blinked owlishly. "I...wasn't expecting that."

Noctis and Gladio smirked. Ignis tried to hide his own grin by lowering his head slightly. The shield crossed his arms with a guffaw. "Damn, string bean. You'd normally be embarrassed, but you're pretty level-headed for something like that to come out of your mouth."

Prompto shot back up into a sitting position. "Hey, I'm only speaking the truth! I met the guy and he had more than a few screws loose."

"He wasn't always like that, Prom," she said.

"But still..."

(Y/n) clapped her hands together. "Okay, I think that's enough for a while. Let's get some rest."

"Yeah, you're right," the marksman sighed. He then encased the girl in his arms, earning a gasp of shock from her as he laid down on the bed. "Hope you guys don't mind, but (Y/n) and I are gonna share a bed."

"What a gentleman," Gladio chuckled. "Just try to keep it in your pants, loverboy."

Prompto groaned, burying his face in the guardian's (h/c) hair at his comment. He held her closer when hearing her giggle. He moved one of his hands to her tresses and combed his fingers through them. He continued his ministrations until the sound of soft snoring came from her. Feeling her breathing had gone deep and slow, he knew she was asleep. He himself couldn't fall asleep, but he was happy she could after all she's been through in the past three days.

A few minutes ticked by when Prompto saw Noctis sit up on the opposite bed. He watched his best friend closely as he made his way over to him and (Y/n). The sharpshooter carefully unwound his arms from around the girl and sat up.

"Hey, I'm...sorry," Noctis muttered.

"For what?" Prompto questioned.

"For falling right into his trap...and for hurting you and (Y/n) like that."

The marksman takes up a wry tone. "I know, right? How could you possibly do such a horrible thing to us—after everything we've been through?!" His tone then returns to normal. "Nah, it's okay. I know (Y/n) would forgive you, too. You're not the only one who fell for it."

"Once this is all over, I say we break down the borders—come together as one nation," Noctis said, crossing his arms and trying to act nonchalant. "I mean, what does it matter where you're from anyway?"

Prompto climbs off the bed, stands, and turns to look at his best friend. "Y'know, I never thought I'd say this, but you sounded like a real king for a second."

The raven-haired boy was surprised by the comment and watched a grin make its way onto the blonde's face. "Better late than never. I'm gonna make this world a better place." He glances down at the sleeping girl for a second before looking back up at Prompto. "You two with me?"

"What kinda question is that?" Both boys looked down when hearing (Y/n)'s voice. They saw her eyes were open and she was watching them. "Of course we are."

Prompto smiled, nodding in agreement. "Uh-huh. Ever at your side."

"Now you two be quiet," mumbled the guardian, closing her eyes. "I'm tired..."

Noctis smiled. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that, (Y/n)."

She reached out and grabbed Prompto's wrist, tugging on it gently. "You coming back to bed or not?"

The marksman smiled in delight before rejoining her in the small bed. Within minutes, they were both asleep.

<—————————————<<<<<

After a couple of hours, everyone was well-rested and ready to go. They left the dormitory and continued their search for the Crystal. They continued wandering the various corridors and rooms of Zegnautus Keep, using the elevators to reach different levels.

It was two hours into their search the group was attacked by a creature known as the foras daemon. It stretched its elongated limbs, eyes focused on Noctis. What caught the group by surprise was hearing the creature could speak. It immediately attacked, focusing its full attention on the prince.

Fighting against the foras daemon, they were able to stand their ground and kill it within minutes. After listening to the daemon's last words before it vanished, Ignis tossed around a couple of potions for Prompto and Noctis. Both boys had been injured by the creature, but the curatives mended their wounds within seconds.

Eventually, they arrived in a large hangar-like room. As they made their way through, Gladio said, "One helluva hangar."

"Look at all this space," Prompto gasped in awe at the size of the hangar.

"So, the central elevator's through here," Noctis commented.

"And out of the loading bay," the shield added.

It wasn't long before the large doors at the other end of the hangar begin opening. From the loudspeaker, they heard Ardyn's voice. "Your Majesty, your precious Crystal awaits you. To liven things up I thought I'd take you on a stroll down memory lane. Of course, memories decay with time."

From the now open doors, Ravus' body enters the hangar. Unlike the last time they saw him, his body was now grotesque and daemonic, transformed into a monster. "Kill me... End it..." He begged, his voice slightly warped.

Gladio glared at the approaching figure. "Is that Ravus?"

"Or what's left of him..." Prompto murmured.

"Dammit..." Noctis cursed, summoning his sword.

"The least we can do is put him out of his misery," (Y/n) said.

Before they could even attack Ravus, the horrifying creature known as the devourer crawled into the hangar.

"Shit, that thing's here too?" The prince hissed.

"What is it doing?" The girl grumbled, watching the horrifying creature as it stalked towards the high commander instead of them. What happened next mortified the group.

The devourer grabbed Ravus, tossing him into the mouth of the middle head. Its skeletal jaw bit down into his body, causing him to holler out in pain. Black blood shot from his body as the creature continued to chew on him. The gruesome sight was revolting and forced the others to look away. As they did, Ardyn's voice rang out from the loudspeakers again. "Oh, my. It seems Callyx has yet to feed his pet. Now it seeks to ward off its hunger. Do be careful for it's quite a gruesome way to go."

Once the devourer finished consuming Ravus, each of its mouths opened and roared. Gladio scowled at the creature. "A sorry end for the high commander—for anyone. He was a man with hopes and dreams."

Prompto covered his mouth after finally being able to look back at the monstrosity. "It's horrible."

Suddenly, the devourer hauled its body in their direction. The group readied their weapons and were  prepared to attack as the large creature made its way towards them.

Raising her hand, (Y/n) conjured multiple fireballs. They loomed in the air around her until they shot forward with a single swipe of her hand. Each one slammed into the creature's body and forced it back a few feet. Noctis performed a warp-strike against one of the three heads, dealing a little damage. Prompto kept his distance and fired his pistol while Ignis carefully debated on what he should do. Gladio followed Noctis into battle, swinging his greatsword at one of its arms.

The devourer lashed out. Its tentacles stretched outward and tried to grab one of them. It managed to grab Noctis when he performed another warp-strike. Prompto shouted the boy's name and quickly fired at the tendril restraining him. He was able to free Noctis, who warped to safety before crashing against the floor.

Ignis ignited his daggers, tossing a single one towards the monster. The sharp tip embedded itself into the black sack, the flames igniting it. The devourer screeched out and reared up on its two hind legs before flopping down on the floor. Its tentacles laid limp.

Noctis, Gladio, and (Y/n) ran towards the downed monster and struck it over and over again to deal some heavy damage. They were able to deplete some of its health, but it was still strong and quickly recovered. Back on its feet, it crawled its way over to Ignis. The tactician could sense its approach and kept his distance. Noctis and Prompto kept the tentacles from grabbing the bespectacled man as he swiped his daggers at the creature.

Suddenly, their battle was interrupted when more daemons began pouring into the hangar. Gladio glared at the approaching horde. "Look alive—company!"

Their hands were already full with the devourer and couldn't possibly stand against all the daemons. The group tried to fight the devourer and horde of daemons, but it was proven to be tough. When they thought they'd made a small dent in the enemies' number, more took their place.

"We're getting nowhere!" The shield bellowed, dodging one of the devourer's attacks.

Prompto shot a daemon out of midair. "And they just keep coming!"

"Noct, you must go alone," Ignis said.

The prince froze. "What?"

"If you can obtain the Crystal's power, we may yet turn the tide. Elsewise, we are all likely to perish here."

Gladio gripped his greatsword tighter. "Iggy's right. It's our only chance."

"But what about you?" Noctis asked, blocking a single daemon's attack.

"We'll manage somehow! Just get moving!" Prompto shouted.

Ardyn broadcasts his voice to the raven-haired boy. "You could still get to the Crystal...if you went on your own. Your friends will have to stay behind."

"Noctis!" (Y/n) shouted as she formed a wall of fire around her and the others to protect them for a short while. The prince looked towards her, which she then continued. "How about some divine intervention?"

He smiled faintly. "Go for it, (Y/n)." Then, Noctis took off in the direction of the central elevator.

She smiled back before jamming the sword into the floor and summoning Brahma. A radiant cosmic glyph appeared beneath her and was soon engulfed by a column of light. At her call, the god of creation used her body and manifested in the middle of the daemon horde. He tore the roof off the hangar and fought against the enemies.

Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio focus their attacks on the weaker daemons while Brahma fought against the devourer. Unlike in Altissia, the Astral was able to focus his entire attention on the artificial daemon. He trusted the others to deal with the lesser enemies and focused all his strength on the creature. Using his cosmic powers, he was able to fell the devourer. Its shrieks of death echoed throughout the hangar as its body toppled over, gradually vanishing into thin air.

Turning his gaze to the remaining daemons, Brahma released a powerful cosmic wave that killed them all. The three boys were taken aback at the powerful magic and had to brace themselves. When they looked around, no daemons remained. Looking towards the god, they saw he was gazing at the darkened sky.

When Brahma turned his gaze down and focused his attention on Prompto, he slowly kneeled and spoke to him.

Bonded by heart, thy vessel must be protected until the True King returns unto this star.

Prompto's eyes widen when he could hear the god's voice. "Wh-What...?"

Brahma places his large hand over his chest, removing the guardian from his body. He lowered his hand and held her out to the boy.

A slumber shall befall my vessel. Only you are able to safeguard her until the time of her awakening arrives.

Prompto pulled (Y/n)'s unconscious form out of the god's hand and held her close. "Wait, I don't—" Looking back up, he saw the Astral was gone. His eyes scanned the hangar until his gaze fell back onto the girl in his arms. "(Y/n)?" He tried shaking her awake, but it was useless.

Hearing Gladio shouting his name and telling him to hurry, Prompto hoisted the girl up into his arms before following his friends to the central elevator. His body was on autopilot while his mind kept repeating Brahma's words. He was trying to figure out what the god meant.

Stepping off the lift, the trio made their way to where the Crystal was located inside Zegnautus Keep. When they arrived, they couldn't find Noctis anywhere. However, they did see Ardyn standing in front of the Crystal. The chancellor turns to them then gestures nonchalantly at the Crystal before beginning to walk away. Gladio swings his greatsword through Ardyn's head, releasing a puff of dark smoke from where the blade strikes.

Ardyn falls back a little, but maintains his balance and holds onto his hat to keep it from falling off his head. He then continues walking away. Prompto was the next to try and attack the man. He kneels down, releasing (Y/n) and letting her body lean against his in order to summon his pistol. He shoots Ardyn in the back before he can take more than a couple of steps, releasing another puff of dark smoke and hurling his body onto the floor.

The chancellor's hat rolls away and lays still for several seconds before his hand suddenly reaches down to collect it and place it back on his head. Once more unharmed, Ardyn is again standing. The twisted man smiles at Ignis, revealing corrupted daemonic features as he does so, but they go unnoticed by the advisor due to his blindness. Ardyn walks away, leaving the group behind to mourn the loss of their King.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[notanotherparanormalblog]

Déjà vu

August 24th, 2021

    This took place August 12th, 2021, at my job.

*****

    I work in a warehouse. It's huge, the size of 14 football fields, and has 3 floors in some places. There are miles of conveyors and thousands of plastic bins we call totes that are used to move products around the building. The ends of each tote have barcode stickers with a series of randomly generated letters and numbers at the bottom so they can be scanned in and out of different locations.

    Early on the morning of the 12th I was sent to help in another department. While I was there, I remember glancing up at the conveyor to my right and seeing two totes sitting side-by-side. One ended in 595, the other in 42. I remember thinking that 595 was almost both my sibling's birthdays; 5/92 for my sister and 8/95 for my brother.

    The other number, 42, made me think of the meaning of life from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It was a smile-worthy moment that helped take my mind off the long day ahead.

    After that I forgot about what I'd seen and went on working, eventually going back to my home department.

    After lunch I was sent to work downstairs. I had been down there for around forty-five minutes when I looked up at the line to grab another tote and stopped and stood staring in confusion, having a moment of strong déjà vu. Sitting on the line side-by-side were two totes, one ended in 595, the other in 42. My first though was about my sibling's birthdays followed by the meaning of life. Then I paused and said, "wait, I've done this before..." I couldn’t immediately make the connection.

    Even though it was only just after lunch it had already been a long day and I stood for a good 20 seconds trying to figure out where I'd seen those two. For a moment I thought I'd dreamed about them but no, I realized I'd seen them, or totes ending in the same numbers, earlier that day.

    I went over it again and again and I'm not sure which scenario was odder, the possibility of those being the same two totes I'd first seen, (without having written down the number/letter combo in entirety that morning I can't say for sure), or that two different totes with the same numerical suffixes had ended up side-by-side and in front of me again later that day.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

“I think you might be pregnant.”

Minor cussing and some drinking in here along with hospital, IV, and blood. This is a continuation of this fic but you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on in this. 

January 21, 2020 8:00am 

All was quiet in the ER that morning. Or as quiet as it could be with two gunshot victims and several heart attack patients. It had been crazy since he punched in at 5:00am for his 12 hour shift. 

He threw himself into a chair and surveyed the waiting room. He was waiting for something to happen but for the moment it was temporarily calm. 

He was lost in his thoughts, thinking of the dinner that Racer had promised him, when a chart was thrown on the desk with a bang. Looking up, he saw Plums standing there with an unsettling look on her face. “You alright, Plums?” 

“Just felt off for a moment.” She pushed a smile to her face, sitting in a chair. “Hey, good job with that gunshot victim earlier. Not sure how but you got him calmed down.”

Spot grinned, thinking back to the first 30 minutes of his shift. “Got him talking about his daughter. Works like a charm.” 

“Well I appreciate it.” Kat grinned, looking at the clock before turning to her chart. 

Spot watched her. “Something’s off with you Plums. Are you doing alright?” 

“I’m fine; don’t worry about me. Jack’s got all these ideas for projects this weekend and I’m a little nervous to be honest. But I’m fine.” She waved him off, as he raised an eyebrow. 

“And is there a reason you’ve been in the bathroom like 6 times already this morning?” Spot picked up a pen and his own chart. “Is there something you wanna tell me?” 

Her eyes went wide as her hands went to her ponytail to tighten it before giving him a look. “I didn’t know you’ve added stalker to your resume.” 

“For being a doctor you’re kinda thick headed, Plums.” Spot smirked. 

She turned, giving him a confused look. “Pray tell, head nurse Spottie, tell me what I’m missing.” 

Leaning in close to her, he grinned before whispering. “I think you might be pregnant.”

She pushed back in her chair, eyes wide. “There’s no way.” 

“Come on. There’s a way. You and Jack - trust me I know more than any brother-in-law ever wants to know.” Spot gave her a look. “You’ve got all the signs - frequent trips to the bathroom, sleepiness, fatigue, need I go on?”

Kat shook her head. “I’m not pregnant, Spot. Just drop it.” 

“Just take a test. If I’m wrong, we drop it. If I’m right, we’ll celebrate.” Spot kissed her cheek. “Why are you so worked up denying this?”

She sighed, flipping the chart closed. “Just drop it. I’m off the clock. I’ll see you this weekend, love you.” 

“Love you too Kat.” He gave her a look, watching her head to the locker rooms to grab her stuff. “I’ll see you this weekend.” 

The day passed, with more runny noses and coughs that he wanted to see but it was quiet, thankfully. No major crises or issues walked through the doors. Looking at the clock he saw that it was just past noon. He was planning on escaping to the cafeteria to grab something to eat when the bay doors were thrown open and a gurney was wheeled in. 

“What do we have boys?” He caught up with them, accepting the chart they had started before looking at the patient, eyes going wide. “Kat?”

“26 year old female; husband found her fainted and lethargic. Her husband called saying she had fainted several times, hitting her head the final time.” Spot looked at the gauze on her forehead before looking over at a worried Jack. He gave him a tight smile before looking at the paramedics. 

“Let’s get her over to bed 2.” He said, pointing in the general direction.  

Stopping at the desk, he gave Isabel, another nurse, a look. “Page Dr Rush and Albert. Plums is in bed 2.”

Walking over to the bed, he was met by a few nurses and an orderly. They transferred her to the bed, letting the paramedics leave. Spot looked at Jack. “Jack, talk to me. What happened?” 

Jack kept an eye on the nurse as she started an IV, getting Kat hooked up to all of the monitors. Putting a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, Spot looked at him. “She’s going to be okay. Now I need you to tell me what happened.”

“One minute she’s telling me what a pain in the ass you are at work today. And the next she’s falling to the ground. She was so still, Spot. She didn’t move for a minute or two while I called 9-1-1.” Jack cried as Dr Rush and Albert showed up. 

Albert looked between Jack and Spot before nodding at them. Dr Peter Rush sighed. “Didn’t we just kick you to the curb, Plums?” 

“Missed it too much. Had to come check up on all of you.” She grinned. “I’m fine you guys. It’s just a little head wound.” 

Dr Rush stepped up to the bed and looked her over. “Albert, would you take Jack to the waiting room? We’re going to do some tests and you can come back in.” 

Jack shook his head, giving Spot a pleading look. “I’ll come get you when we’re done, I promise.” 

Letting Albert guide him, Jack sighed loudly. “Love you, Kat.”

“Love you too Jack. Go I’ll be fine. Call your brother.” She gave him a look, watching him walk away before looking at the two men in front of her. “Spot don’t start. Order a full blood work panel and see what’s up. Also, just stitch me up.” 

Dr Rush chuckled. “She self diagnosed herself . . . why was I paged?” 

“Possible concussion and because she’s a stubborn little thing and I needed someone to look at her.” Spot chuckled. “Anything else?” 

Looking at Kat, Dr Rush gave her a look. “What year is it?” 

“2020.” She grinned. 

“And what day of the week is it?” He asked. 

“Tuesday.” 

“And what’s your puppy’s name?” 

Kat grinned. “Basil.” 

“I want a CT scan, I want to know why she’s fainting. I don’t think she has a concussion.” He handed her chart to Spot. “Let me know what you find out. Kat, take it easy; try to sleep some while you’re here. Let us run tests and we’ll see what’s going on.” 

Waiting until he left, Spot gave her a look before drawing blood. “Did you take a test?” 

Swatting him, she shook her head. “No but knowing you, you’re gonna run one. Put a rush on those, please?” 

“Will do. You scared Jack.” He said, flicking the test tube a bit to ensure all the bubbles were out of it before putting a barcode on it. He would deliver the blood to the lab himself. “Do you need anything?” 

She sighed, pushing herself up in the bed. “I know I scared Jack - one minute I’m complaining about you and the next I'm on the floor with his mug hovering over me. Can I have some water? Can you grab Jack?” 

“I’ll have Al bring you some water. Anything to eat? And yes, I’ll grab Jack as I head to the lab.” He promised, patting her leg. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”

Kat smiled, biting her lip. “I had lunch. Thank you for everything, Spot.” 

Spot patted her shoulder before giving her cheek a kiss. “Rest. I’ll send Jack and Al back here. Love you.”

“Love you to, Spot.” She smiled. “Thank you.” 

He nodded, stepping out closing the curtain behind him before heading to the waiting room. Spot quickly found Jack sitting there with Racer beside him. They both stood as he approached. “How is she?” 

“She’s good. She’s hooked up to an IV getting some fluids. We took blood work and I’ll bring it up to the lab. She’s going to be getting stitches and a CT scan and will know more in a bit.” Spot smiled at the two. “You guys can come back and sit with her if you want, until we take her up for the scan.” 

They both nodded and followed him through the maze of the ER. He stopped at the desk and grinned at Al. “Hey can you come stitch up Plums? And grab her some water.” 

“Sure. Thought you’d want to do that?” Al grinned, looking between Spot and the two behind him. 

Fishing in his scrubs pocket, he pulled out the vial of blood. “Gotta take this to the labs. I’ll meet you guys by Kat in a bit.”

Tugging on Race’s hand, he pulled him closer. “Hi love. I’m sorry it’s so chaotic but I’m glad you’re here for Jack.”

“Hi yourself.” Race grinned, leaning over and kissing him. “Go be the hero and save the day. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

With a pep in his step, Spot gave him a look before heading towards the elevator. Tapping his foot, he took a moment to inhale a deep breath before exhaling. He hoped the vial of blood would clue them in on what’s going on, though he had a pretty good feeling. 

Walking into the lab, he grinned seeing Elmer standing there. “Hey man is there any way you can rush this and run this while I wait?” 

Elmer gave Spot a look. “It’ll cost you.” 

“Whatever it takes. I just need this done. Order should be in your inbox.” Spot handed over the vial, leaning against the wall, taking out his cell phone. 

A quietness descended on the two. Spot took that time to flip through the texts he had received, most of them from Race trying to figure out what was going on with Kat. He sent Race a text to see how Kat was doing and glanced up at Elmer. “How’s your day been?”

“Busy. Y’all couldn’t have a quiet day in the ER could you?” Elmer gave him a look grinning. 

Spot chuckled. “Never. But it’s been quieter than the last few days, knock on wood.” 

Elmer laughed, shaking his head. “Glad you’re in the mayhem and I’m not. Alright, the tests will be in the patient's file by the time you get back downstairs.” 

“Thank you! I owe you.” Spot clapped his hands, heading towards the elevator, pressing the down button. 

Stepping off the elevator, he headed to the desk, pulling up Plums’ chart before reading the labs. His eyes widened at the one result, a grin pushing through his lips. Logging off the computer, he headed back to her bed. “Oh thank god you’re back.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking between Jack and Race who both had grins, Albert who was frozen halfway between the bed and the curtain and Kat who just looked half asleep. 

“These two are trying to convince Al to put purple or green stitches in. They think they’re funny but they’re not.” She rolled her eyes, hand flying to her head with a groan. “Can you stop them?”

Spot gave his husband and brother-in-law a look, pointing at them. “Al go check up on status for a CT, you two sit there and touch nothing.” 

Walking to a drawer, he grabbed a few things, looking at Kat. “Did he numb you up yet?”

“No. He was too busy being egged on by these two.” Kat gave him a look. “Can you assign him flu cases for the next week?” 

Spot grinned. “Shhh that’s our secret. How are you feeling?” 

“Slight headache and just tired.” She gave him a faint smile as he prepped to stitch her up. 

“Race, don't look at Kat. Keep your eyes away from her.” Spot said, glancing over his shoulder. “Just a few more Kat.” 

Snipping the thread, he threw everything just as Al came back in. “They can take her now if you’re ready.” 

“You two will have to wait in the waiting room.” Spot gave Jack and Race a look as Jack started to protest. “She’s going to be upstairs, running tests. You’ll be bored so we’ll come get you once she’s back.” 

“Is she going to have to stay overnight?” Jack asked, standing. 

Spot shrugged. “Probably not but we’ll know more after the CT scan. Don’t panic - this is routine and normal. She’s okay, Jack.” 

Kat grinned at her husband and brother as they both gave her kisses. Al and Spot transferred her upstairs, Al leaving them at radiology. “So what did my labs say?”

“You owe me.” Spot looked at her. “You’re pregnant.” 

Tears clouded her eyes, as she shook her head. “Really?” 

“Yup.” Spot nodded. “We can do an ultrasound if you want when you go back down.” 

She chuckled. “Not exactly how I wanted Jack to find out or you and Racer.” 

“But it’s kinda perfect.” Spot grinned. 

She nodded, folding her hands over her stomach. “Can we not tell Jack? I will, I just want him not to find out with the hubble babloo of the ER.” 

“Let me talk to Rush and we’ll see what we can do.” Spot grinned. “Now let’s get this CT scan done and we can get you out of here.” 

He sent a text to Rush with Kat’s request and waited in the hall until she was done. Blink quickly read the report and didn’t see anything abnormal which they expected. Pushing her back downstairs, Spot put her back in her bed before going to find Race and Jack. “She’s back in bed. I’ll have Dr Rush come in and she should be released soon.” 

“Spot, give it to me straight. Is she okay?” Jack stopped him before he started to head to the back. 

He bit his lip, looking between Race and Jack. “She’s going to be okay, Jack. Dr Rush wants to look at everything before coming to talk to you guys, okay?” 

Jack nodded, following Spot to the back. Race followed them, but held back as Jack went to see Kat. “You’re lying.” 

“Am not.” Spot gave his husband a look. “And since when do you know all medical things?”

Race grinned. “You biting your lip is a tell. You know something.”

“Even if I knew something, I couldn’t tell you because of confidentiality.” Spot gave him a look. “Besides if they want you to know, you’ll know.” 

Race’s eyes lit up. “So you do know something. Spottie . . .” 

“No, Racetrack. Go in and check on Kat.” Spot pushed him towards the curtain, giving him a pointed look. “I’ve got to get the doctor then I’ll be in. Don’t be a nuisance.” 

Spot watched him disappear behind the curtain before heading to the nurse’s station. He saw Dr Rush standing there and slided up beside him. “Did you see Kat’s labs?” 

“I was just looking at them. Now what does she want to do?” Rush looked at him, flipping through the labs. 

Spot grinned. “She doesn’t want us to tell them about the lab results. So I was thinking we tell them she was dehydrated and she needs to push fluids for the next couple of hours.” 

Dr Rush nodded, motioning him towards Kat’s curtain. Spot walked behind him, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

They stepped in and all eyes turned to them. “We have your results. Looks like you’re dehydrated but everything looks good. I would suggest taking it easy for the next couple of days and push fluids - water and juice. Skip the alcohol.” 

Jack leaned over and kissed Kat’s forehead with a strangled chuckled. He closed his eyes, continuing to kiss her forehead. “Any questions?” 

Kat laughed, shaking her head. “I think we’re all set. When can I leave?”

“As soon as Spot writes up the discharge papers.” Rush gave them all a look before stepping out of the curtain. Spot looked at the pure excitement in the room and the relief on Jack’s face. “Kat, do you need anything?” 

She looked at Race and Jack who were both grinning brightly at her, a weight lifted from their shoulders at their wife and sister being alright. “Nah I think I’m alright. Just get the papers ready?” 

“I’ll get them ready.” Spot chuckled. “How are you getting home?” 

Race raised his hand. “I told them I would take them home since Jack rode in the ambulance with them.” 

Nodding, Spot left the area, heading over to the nurse’s desk to start the paperwork. Spot logged into the computer, reviewing his notes before typing them up. Finishing them up, he quickly printed them off. Grabbing that and a prescription that printed off, he headed back to Kat’s area. 

“Basically, keep hydrated, rest, don’t do anything dumb.” Spot gave Jack the paperwork, giving him a look. “Keep her calm, even though she doesn’t have a concussion, she might have a hell of a headache. Let me know if you have any questions.” 

Jack nodded, giving him a look. “Thank you Spot. I’ll text you if I have any questions.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” He gave Kat a look. “Let Jack wait on you hand and foot. No Dr Plums today . . . it’s just Katherine for the day. Go watch all those Hallmark movies you love and cuddle Basil.” 

He started taking the wires and IV out before giving her a look.  “Do you need anything before you go?” 

She shook her head as Albert came up with a wheelchair, before helping her into the wheelchair. Patting Jack’s back, Spot watched them walk out of the area with a smile on his face. He just hoped that Kat would tell him sooner rather than later. 

Race caught him as he walked out of the area. “Hey, what time will you be home tonight?” 

“Around 5. You still making dinner?” Spot asked, giving his hand a squeeze. 

Race nodded. “Pasta, right or do you want something else?” 

“Kind of craving homemade pizza.” Spot grinned. “I’ll see you at home, I love you.” 

“Love you too. Have a good rest of your shift.” Race kissed him, waving goodbye before heading out of the emergency room. 

Going back to the desk, he collapsed in the chair, rubbing his hand over his face with a loud sigh. Closing his eyes for a moment, he listened to the noises around him. He heard the chair next to him slide across the floor, as he peaked an eye open. “How are you holding up?” 

“I’m doing as well as I can be right now.” Spot sighed. “Got another two hours before I’m done and all I want is a bed for a nap. How are you doing? Ready for all the incoming flu cases coming your way?” 

Albert threw his head back, groaning. “Ha you’re funny. I’m fine. I wasn’t in the room all that much but it seems as if Kat’s alright - just dehydrated from what I saw.” 

Spot nodded, grinning. “I’m sure Jack will be the perfect nurse for him.” 

The next two hours passed by without an issue, a few simple cuts and bruises and an arm that needed to be set. He quickly grabbed his stuff before clocking out and heading home. He sighed, getting into the car, starting to head home.

He was looking forward to laying on the couch with Sassie, their dog, and looking forward to whatever kind of pizza Race was making that night. Pulling into their driveway, he quickly got out before slamming the car door behind him. Walking up the sidewalk, he pushed open the door, inhaling deeply, sighing in content at the spiciness in the house. 

“Honey I’m home.” He tiredly called, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes. “And it’s been a hell of a day.” 

Race poked his head out of the kitchen while Sassie made her way over to him. He patted her a few times, before leaning over and kissing Race. “I love you. It was good to have you in the emergency room and not be the patient.” 

“I love you too and you’re not funny.” Race rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen. “I have a beer open and ready for you.” 

Quickly changing into sweatpants and a hoodie, he sat at the kitchen table and watched Race finish up dinner. He relaxed in the chair and listened to Race prattle on about anything and everything. As they were finishing up dinner, both of their cell phones chirped with a text message. “OH HELL YES!” 

Race did a weird jig in the middle of the kitchen, with the biggest grin on his face. Spot gave him a look. “What?” 

“WE’RE GONNA BE UNCLES, SPOTTIE!!!!” Race yelled, continuing his jig. “Jack just texted the news.” 

Spot grinned, shaking his head, standing up and joining him in his awkward jig. The secret would stay with him now. In this moment, he would jig with his husband and celebrate the happy news.

There’s almost 3500 words of another emergency room fic featuring doc Kat and nurse Spottie. Hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! 

[sourbat]

I’m apparently trapped in Magnus/Pickles hell, so them with M? :)

M: Marriage of Convenience

I…actually want to do this. A lot. In fact, here is a rough summary:

Pickles  discovers his insurance is no longer covering his testosterone. Thanks to a legal loophole, Pickles learns he can marry and get covered under better insurance, and his pal Magnus is willing to take one for the team. So, no problem, right?

“Pickles!” his mother’s voice screeched through the line. “When were you going to tell me you got married, hmm?”

Wrong.

Basically, Magnus tries to do a solid. Pickles learns his family is aware of the situation, is immediately suspicious and/or guilt trips Pickles into coming over, and offers a financial reward for the newlyweds. They need to make a good enough attempt at being a passable couple so that Pickles’ family gets off their back and doesn’t rat them out for fraud, and what better way to do that then spend the next few days learning about one another as they slowly make their way to the state? 

Potential Rating: T/M

And underneath is a rough draft for the first scene.  Let me know what you think?? 

Worst part about visiting the hospital was the location. The city he lived in had at least a dozen hospitals, but the only one that accepted his insurance was a thirty-minute drive one way, and off the corner of a busy street not nearly enough traffic signs. Nathan was always willing to make the hour-long drive just for the hell of it. Pickles figured it was mainly due in part to Nathan's abundant fascination with music, and the sheer joy he got just listening and talking about it, but the man was a saint nonetheless. Pickles had no problem taking in the demographic history of early Scandinavian death metal bands if it made the process of picking up his gel easier. Bad enough the insurers only handed him two pumps a pop. The crappy location and last year’s seven-dollar increase were just the whip cream and cherry to his otherwise bullshit sundae. Still, there were worse options. 

“Your total comes to $133,” the pharmacist announced.

Pickles’ attention swayed from the decadent row of cough drops, rising and sparkling into a flare of curiosity at the number.

“S’cuse me?” he asked, bearing a slightly disappointed smile that was directed more at himself for not paying attention, and less at the annoyed pharmacist just trying to do her job. “Can you, uhh, repeat that one more time?”

“Your prescription,” she repeated. “The amount due is $133 exactly. Will you be using cash, card or check?”

Oh? Pickles’ dropped his stare to the register. There it was: $133.00, clear as day. A vast difference from the thirty-seven Pickles was used to paying. The amount made his stomach turn and twist into an ugly, gut wrenching knot. He rolled two twenties held between his index and middle finger, feeling their inadequacy drag between the clammy appendages. 

Surely there must be a mistake.

“Can you check again?” Pickles rested his arms on top of the counter. It’s a mistake, but there’s a distinct contrast between the cool plastic countertop versus his hot reddening flesh. The sensation was an unsettling reminder of how quick he was to second-guess, but he persisted through that gathering storm of fear and figured it had to be a problem with his card. “My card,” he said, sensing some relief when he heard the words fly out his mouth. “Yeah, maybe the barcode is wrong?”

The pharmacist said nothing as she cancelled the order, then typed in the rows of numbers on his insurance card. Pickles pressed his tongue out just enough for the tip to poke through his lips, then licking the top nervously as he patiently waited for new results. He’d have to order a new card. His mind rolled around the idea, used it as a garnish to cover that steaming pile of “something’s wrong” that was building in his stomach, and when the order went through and Pickles saw the dreaded number return, his empty stomach began to fill with acid.

“Same amount,” she said, and this time turned her computer screen towards Pickles so that any chance of this being a mistake on her part was cast aside. A manicured finger jabbed the name on the screen. “This is your name, correct?”

Pickles frowned at the name. “Yeah,” he answered, then grimaced when his eyes reflexively settled on the “S” label lying just beneath the name, reflecting and taunting him with the horrid truth of the manner, and predicament he’d somehow placed upon himself. “Uhmm…”

“Do you need me to cancel your order?”

“What? No!” Pickles snapped at the question. Thankfully, the nurse barely reacted, and merely took a step to the side, creating a small bit of distance between herself and Pickles.

Eyes returning to the price, Pickles sweaty hands curled inward into vibrating fists. The weight of his legs doubled, and chest racked with panic as he anxiously performed mental somersaults trying to recall the exact amount of money he currently had in his account, and whether he’d be about to financially handle such a burden. It wasn’t like he had spent money on anything major, aside from food. Surely had enough for a… wait, didn’t he recently loan Murderface a twenty? And he spent another thirty a week ago with Magnus at that one bar. Shit. 

Pickles swallowed. His head filled with heat and cotton as he stared hopelessly at the amount, and knew he wouldn’t be able to afford the two pumps, much less a second dose midway through the month. 

“Well?” The nurse asked, growing impatient.

What to do? His nails dug into his palms as he tried to think of a solution. If it wasn’t the card, then it had to be the insurance. Something happened with his insurance… something very recent. He only paid thirty-seven two weeks ago. He needed to call his insurance and figure out what they messed up.

But first he needed his prescription.

“One sec,” Pickles said, then reached across the counter and picked up his card. It nearly slipped out from his shaking hands as he jammed it into his pocket, then hurried down the centermost hallway, head turning between each aisle until he reached the second to the last. At the far end, standing in front of the magazine selection, stood Nathan.

He was absentmindedly flipping through the pages of last week’s tabloids, when Pickles raced up to him, slapping both his hands across the man’s back. 

“Nate, dood!” Pickles said, voice giving way to panic. Heat burst out his lanky shoulders, covering the top half of his arm in a red blush.

Unaffected by the impact, Nathan slowly lifted his eyes from the article he’d been perusing. “Oh, hey Pickles,” he grumbled.

Pickles chewed his inner lip. “Nathan, I need yer help,” he said, wincing at the burn starting to build at the ends of his eyes. Shame riddled his face and darkened each freckle as Nathan picked up on Pickles’ panicked state, and started to lower the magazine.

“Uh… what’s up?” 

“I, uhh.” Pickles ran his hand through his thinning hair, feeling the drag left by his sweating hands. His gut folded again, sloshing the collected acid from before to rise and burn the bottom of his already dry throat. Pickles sighed miserably, releasing a gust of soured, heavy air. “Can you loan me some money, dood?”

[joaquinfeed]

You’re Like an Angel (Joe x Reader)

Prompt: You and Joe (You Were Never Really Here) have been casually dating for awhile. He’s let a few comments slip about his past, but nothing too revealing. Soon enough, you experience first-hand just how troubled and damaged Joe really is. Any dialogue or thoughts in italics is stuff Joe is remembering from his past.

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and blood. Mentions of abuse and trauma. Bad coping mechanisms and suicidal thoughts. 

A/N: I’m not sure how many will even read this fic since the movie isn't that popular. But I spent some time on this one. So, maybe give it a read? I tried to keep Joe in character as much as I could. 

60, 59, 58, 57, 56,

Joe's fingers gripped the pill bottle like it was his only lifeline. His eyes ran over the dosage information before flickering up to the cashier. He could see the young man's mouth moving, but no words were coming out. The boy held up a white baggie containing the rest of the medication. He scanned the barcode of each bottle like Joe was his only customer for the day, and he wanted to make it last.

Other New York residents piled behind him, but he kept his eyes trained on the cashier's movements. He could feel the glares of everyone else bore into the back of him as they waited.

Stand up straight.

Joe's fist clenched around the orange bottle, the words of his late father ringing so loud in his ears he didn't hear the small crack of the plastic. His other hand carelessly brushed over his tied-up hair before wiping off the beads of sweat sticking to his face.

Stand up! Only pussies and little girls slouch!

Joe slammed his hands onto the table in front of him, his breathing coming out in ragged puffs.

"What?" Joe asked the cashier whose mouth hadn't moved since the outburst.

"I- I said your total is 18.50."

He dropped a twenty onto the table and ripped the bag from the guy's hand, rushing to get away from the prying eyes of other shoppers. He was out the door before he was handed the change.

55, 54, 53, 52, 51,

"Mom, I'm back," Joe said to his mother as soon as he came through the front door.

"Joe, come here, come here," she said from her spot in the recliner.

"What is it?"

"Look at the TV," she pointed. "Our song's on."

'A, You're Adorable' played quietly in the background of a children's commercial, as his mother hummed softly to the lyrics.

"Yeah, it is," Joe agreed before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up. "Let's get you to bed."

"Janice loves this song. You should tell her we heard it."

Joe froze at the mention of his exes name. Janice. Before her, he had tried to date several women, all of which ended up leaving him. For years, he found himself to be incapable of maintaining a long-term relationship. Every girl he kissed, touched, or felt connected to—they all thought they could change him—fix him. He knew he was incapable of being fixed. Janice was different; she was there for him until his plan to escape the outside world, and all it's horror eventually pushed her away. It was his fault.

"Mom, I don't talk to Janice," Joe sighed. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

While he helped his mother up the stairs and into her bed, his mind drifted to you. He hadn't mentioned anything about you to her yet because he knew it wasn't serious. You both had been on a couple of dates, and even had a couple more planned, but the odds of it lasting weren't high. So, Joe kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was another woman for his mom to question him about.

50, 49, 48, 47, 46,

Once Joe was back in his bedroom, he pulled out his phone and sat at the end of the bed. His fingers searched his contacts for your name, while his other hand grasped his knee. The line only rang once before you picked up.

"Hey, I didn't expect to hear from you tonight," you said on the other end.

"I didn't expect to call tonight," he retorted.

"Okay," you said. "Your call wasn't unwanted, though."

The line went silent. Joe wasn't sure why he called at such a late hour; if he was honest, he really just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.

When he didn't respond, you spoke softly into the phone. "How was your day?"

"Good," he lied, letting his hand run over his beard. "How was yours?"

"It was okay, just busy."

"Tell me about it," he said before laying back onto the bed. He closed his eyes and let the recollection of your day soothe him for a moment's notice.

"And then, to top it all off," you said, finally nearing the end of your story. "I'm at the store, right? I turn around and see a dead girl lying on the floor."

Joe's eyes snapped open. "You saw what?"

"I saw a little girl pouting on the floor," you repeated. "I have never related to anyone so much."

He exhaled. His psyche was playing tricks on him once again. Images of dead bodies struck his mind like lightning. Kids upon kids laid lifeless in transporting vehicles—all the people he couldn't save from the savagery of sex trafficking and other violent crimes.

"Joe? Is everything okay?"

What pained him even more were the kids who screamed for help as he stood watching, helpless against the gun to his head. Jobs would go wrong, and he was forced to admit to himself, once again, that he failed.

Help me! Please help me! Don't let them take me again!

They'd cry out to him in such anguish, but he could only watch. He was as useless then as he was for his mother during his father's spells of anger.

"Hey," you said. "Are you still there?"

"I've got to go," Joe hastily hung up the phone, not waiting for your response. He threw the phone onto the bed and got up to pace around the room. With every step, a new face plagued his mind—tears dripped from the kids' eyes as they begged him to keep them safe. He rarely did.

45, 44, 43, 42, 41,

Joe moved to the closet where his arms tugged on an old, mucky box full of plastic bags until they all came floating out onto the floor. He slid his back down the wall of the closet until he was sitting—bags all around him. With shaky hands, he pulled a loose sack over his head, clutching it hard enough around his face to cut off his oxygen.

"Where the hell is Joseph?"

His father's voice rung out through the household. Joe carried his little feet across the floor as fast as he could, hoping to get to his hiding place before his father caught sight of him. At nearly 10 years old, Joe could identify at least three spots in the house where his father never searched for him—cabinets, under the bed, and his closet. He often opted for the closet, where he'd pull grocery bags or plastic dry-cleaning holders over his head to drown out the noise of his mother's wails.

"Stop! Stop it! You're hurting me," she'd cry out. Little Joe pushed his hands up against his ears so tightly, they'd be red for hours after the incident.

He was scared of his father back then, and so he let his mother take all the abuse. Had he not been hiding, he would have been the one facing his father's wrath.

"You're weak. Weak, weak, weak," he repeated to himself like a mantra. He knew it was only a matter of time before you figured that out and left him like the rest.

40, 39, 38, 37, 36,

When morning came, he awoke from a thud sounding out downstairs. He stayed in bed a minute longer, wishing his blanket would swallow him whole. Without any luck, he pulled back the covers and went downstairs to find the source of the noise.

Stepping foot into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was his mom's head lying still against the hardwood table. A broken bowl of cereal was turned on its side, leaking milk that ran from the dish to the end of the surface. His eyes followed the droplets as they hit the ground, joining a stream of red liquid to create a pink puddle on the floor.

Joe's breath came out in fast shudders as he approached his mother's figure. He pulled her face up to see a plastic piece that was missing from the bowl lodged in her neck. His fingers grasped the broken part, yanking it out in one quick motion; he watched as blood shot out in spirts, covering his clothes before he could make a move to back up.

He turned around after laying his mom's head back on the table and walked slowly out of the room. He kept his steps light and his ears peeled for any trace of movement in the house. His head snapped towards the living room when he heard what sounded like a vase fall. He rounded the corner to see a tall, slim-figured man dressed in black, looking through a pile of receipts on the coffee table.

While passing the cabinet, Joe grabbed his hammer that he kept locked away, and with one quick swing to the head, the intruder was left bleeding out on the floor.

"Fu-fuck," the wounded man choked out. "Don't kill me. Don't kill me."

"I think I already have," Joe said, bending down to lay the head of the hammer on the man's stomach. "Why did you kill my mom?"

"I was told to! I- I only work for somebody, man. I don't know anything about her. I don't have anything against you."

"Who sent you?"

The man kept quiet as quick and panicked gasps left his mouth. Joe ran the end of the hammer over the man's stomach, light enough to tickle him, before pulling it back and slamming it into the guy's stomach.

"Who fucking sent you?"

"Carl. C-Carl.”

"Carl, who?"

"Carl Alcott," the dying man coughed out.

"The club owner? Fuckin' fuck," Joe dropped the hammer, and his hands slammed into the ground with force. He knew that exchange from a week ago was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Influential people don't like to be messed with.

"He's- he's- comin' for," the man's words ran together as his breath started to leave his lungs.

"For me?"

"No- no," he said. "For- for your girl."

35, 34, 33, 32, 31,

As soon as intruder took his last breath, he stuffed his body into a trash bag along with his mom's and drove them to the lakeside. As he left the city and got further into the country, his mind started to wander to you.

For your girl. Your girl.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight with shaking arms, he was swerving in and out of the lane. His tires screeched every time he raced around the corner, desperate to get the remnants of the bodies out of his backseat.

When he went on dates with you the few times before, he had briefly opened up about his past. He thinks he can recall saying something about a rude father, or his time in the marines and the police force. He may have even let it slip that he's seen piles upon piles of decaying corpses. He never once mentioned his new work in fear of scaring you off.

As soon as he dropped his job in law enforcement, he sentenced himself to a lonely life. The small number of friends he had, plus any relationship he conjured up, fell apart. He abandoned any wish to be happy since he couldn't protect any of the people who came near him; his mother was a testimony to that.

You were something else, though. He had bumped into you on a whim, not expecting your smile and personality to slam into his heart as it did. He agreed to one date, trying to escape the bleakness of his everyday life. But for some unknown reason, he kept coming back for more. One date turned into two, three, and four; before he knew it, you were basically his girlfriend—without the title, of course.

When he pulled up to the lakeside, he dragged both bodies out to the small bridge that ran from side to side. He attached each of them to a cinderblock and pushed them one-by-one over the edge.

"I hope you rest easier here than you did in life, mom," he said into the air.

He wondered what it would be like to attach a block to his own foot and drown with the rest of them. He wondered how that would feel—how you would feel.

He couldn't do it though. His suicidal story that he contemplated often was pushed aside in the past because he couldn't leave his mother. Now that she was gone, it appeared to be the perfect moment. But, again, he had somebody holding him back.

You were being threatened with the ultimate price, and he'd be damned if he let you suffer for something you had no part in. He was determined for once in his life to save someone important to him; he would not let you be another statistic in his head.

30, 29, 28, 27, 26,

He arrived at your apartment after going back to his and changing into a blue long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and charcoal vest. He knocked three times against the door and waited.

"Joe," you said, looking surprised to see him on the other side.

"I came to see if you wanted to go out right now, like a little date."

"Oh, sure," you smiled, and Joe couldn't help but offer you a small smile in return. "Let me just grab some money."

"I've got it. You know I've got it."

"You paid the last date," you reminded him. "You said I could next time."

He sighed, running his hand through his long locks. If he was going to get through this meal with a good conscience, he had to be the one to cover it. He knew your relationship was coming to a stop tonight. For your safety, he decided it was time to end the connection between you two—even if it'd hurt like hell.

"Please, just let me pay," he said.

"Okay," you agreed before shutting your door and joining your hand with his. "You look good today."

As soon as he got to his car, he pushed your body gently against it before capturing your mouth with his.

"I was going to tell you that," he said in between kisses. "You always look good—so perfect. And you’re all mine tonight."

You hummed against his lips, moving your hands up from his soft belly to his strong arms. "Not that I don't love this, but is everything okay? You're not usually this…"

You trailed off, and he backed up only slightly, letting your hands fall from his arms so he can intertwine them with his own.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he assured you while pulling open the car door for you to get inside. Once you were secured, he went around and got in himself.

You smiled at him as he took off driving. "Where are we headed to?"

He took his eyes off the road for a second to smirk at you. "I'm not telling you."

"No fair," you pouted jokingly. "At least give me a hint."

"Not a fucking chance," he laughed—a real genuine sound—which is something he never does. You chuckled along with him before comfortable silence fills the car as you drive to the destination Joe picked out.

25, 24, 23, 22, 21,

He parked his car in a small parking lot and got out to open your door, mumbling something about 'keeping your eyes closed.' When you're told to open them, you're met with a worn-down diner that looks to be in the middle of nowhere. The windows are tended with the words 'Maggie's Place' scrawled across the glass. The building is painted red and white, with checkered lines running down the sides—a design that was quite popular in the '60s.

"Wow," you said, not knowing what else to say.

"I know it's not a fancy date restaurant, but my mom used to bring me here. This place is important to me."

"No, it's perfect," you told him, honestly. "I love it."

He nods in relief before leading you inside. You're quickly seated by a young waitress who looks to be no more than 17. Joe ordered a coffee while you looked over the menu for something you'd want. 

After you're done ordering, the waitress turned to Joe. "Is there anything else you'd like, sir?"

He stared blankly at her, trying to remember where he'd seen her familiar face. "What?"

"Would you like anything else?"

He shook his head and watched as she slowly walked away, staring at him the whole time she's departing. He knows that's not likely to be accurate; she probably left to the kitchen without a single glance back. His mind, however, sees her gaping at him—just like the other girls he couldn't save.

He exhaled. "What the fuck are we doing? What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

Your voice broke his delusion, and he snapped his head back to your face, which is sporting a concerned look.

"Nothing, nothing. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," you said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Whatever has been on your mind since I met you. You know, you hung up on me last night?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Stop apologizing, Joseph."

"Don't call me that," he barked at you, his fist clenching the side of booth tightly.

You snapped your mouth shut at Joe's harsh tone. He had been angry before; you'd seen it first-hand but never directed towards yourself.

"My father used to call me that," he muttered, his words still sounding loud in the otherwise quiet diner. "I don't like it."

"I won't do it again," you promise. "How's your mom?"

He paused, fully prepared to go with a lie. As he met your eyes though, he couldn't will himself to deceive you further. Instead, he shook his head while taking in a deep breath through his nose.

"Actually, she passed away."

Your eyes widened. "What? When?"

"This morning."

"Oh my God, Joe," you breathed out, your mouth opening and closing, trying to find some way to console him. "That's- I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he said softly. "She'll be happier now."

"How—if you don't mind me asking—did it, you know, happen?"

Memories of earlier flooded his head--the blood oozing from his mother's body like a river; he could almost see it on his hands now.

"In her sleep," Joe mumbled, hoping that was satisfactory enough to stop the probing. He didn't want you to find out, especially during your last date—not that you knew it was the last.

"I know she meant a lot to you," you said, placing a comforting hand on his. "She would have been proud of you for putting yourself out there with me. I'm just sad I never got to meet her."

"She would have liked you," Joe admitted with certainty. "Probably a little too much. She'd have you singing 'A, you're adorable' in no time."

"A, you're adorable. B, you're so beautiful, C, you're a cutie full of charms," you sang, playfully.

"D, you're delightful and, B, you're exciting and, F, you're a feather in my arms," he sang back, smiling towards the end.

The waitress soon delivered the food to your table. You and Joe ate in silence, with a few comments made here and there about the food or something that popped into your heads. After paying the bill and leaving a rather sizable tip, he drove you back to your house.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 

Neither of you wanted the date to finish, especially Joe, who knew he wouldn't see you again.

He dropped you off, but before leaving to walk into your place, you asked, "do you want to come in?"

He nodded. "I have something to talk to you about, actually."

"Oh, well. I wasn't inviting you in to talk, but we can do that too," you joke.

The joke falls flat—Joe was too busy worrying about how you were going to take the break-up. Not seeing him chuckle, or even offer a smile, you became concerned.

He followed you inside to your living room, where he sat on the couch while you went to the kitchen to grab a drink. He was on his feet in seconds when he heard the sound of a glass shatter on the floor. When he got to you, you were standing in the middle of the room. A man with a different build, yet dressed similarly to the one who murdered his mother, stood behind you—a gun pressed up against your skull.

Joe quickly looked you over to see if the man had hurt you yet. Besides your trembling body and sporadic breathing, you looked to be physically fine.

"Let go of her," Joe spoke calmly.

"No, I don't think I will," the man replied.

"J-Joe," you stuttered. "What's going on? Who is this?"

"Stay calm, baby," Joe spoke softly to you. "It's going to be okay."

The man behind you laughed. "Oh, Joey. If only you would have been in here sooner. Just like all those other times, huh?"

The room fell quiet; all that was heard was the air leaving your mouth.

"The laws of man, they don't apply," the gunman sang while smiling. "When blood gets in a woman's eye."

Stand up! Only pussies and little girls slouch!

Don't let them take me again!

Where the hell is Joseph?

For your girl.

The memories wouldn't stop screaming in his head—every bad thing said to him from birth until now. The urge to leave and hide in his closet was unbearable; his hands scrambled to his ears, trying to stop the voices that were getting louder and louder.

"Joe," you yelled out as the gunman took advantage of his opportunity and started to drag you out of the kitchen. "Joe!"

You struggled against the larger man's clutch, trying to get an edge on him. He nearly got you to the front door before you heard a loud blast echo through the house. The guy's grip on you loosened, and you watched as he dropped to the ground.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11,

Joe's arms slide around your frame before you even notice he's there. You keep still, gawking at the body lying at your legs. His blood was seeping through his shirt, already creating a pool of red by your shoes.

You felt strong arms pulling you away from the scene, and only then did you look at Joe.

"What- what," you stumble, glancing between him and the man on the floor. "Why did-why?"

"Come on," he said softly. "Don't look at him."

Too shocked to resist, you let him lead you outside to his car. He sits you inside, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'll be right back," he told you. "I'm going to clean up. Y/N, listen to me. Do you hear me?"

You nod faintly.

"Please don't go anywhere," he kisses your forehead again, lingering a little longer before going back inside to wrap the body and clean the floor.

You watched him come back out fifteen minutes later, a human-shaped trash bag in his arms. You fight the urge to open the door and run for your life. You're not sure what Joe was planning to do with the man—with you.

He shoved the body in the trunk and made his way to the front seat. The silence that loomed over you both this time was not one of comfort like all those other drives before. No, this one was full of tension and emotional turmoil.

"Are you okay? Do you want a soda?"

You stayed quiet, not answering his questions. You rested your head on the window, watching as the city buildings got fewer and fewer. Joe decided it was best to take you to a small park in a country town far outside the New York City limits.

You listened to the radio, soft music by Rosie and the Originals played in the speakers.

'It's just like heaven being here with you. You're like an angel, too good to be true. But after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby, my angel baby.'

10, 9, 8, 7, 6,

It was nearing dark when Joe finally parked the car. Neither of you knew what to say or how even to start the much-needed conversation. So, you decided to take the plunge.

"Are you going to kill me now?"

Joe gaped at you like you'd just asked him what his name was—like the answer was obvious.

"Of- of course not," he stammered. "Fuck, Y/N. I would never do that."

"You just shot someone, Joe! And who the hell was that? Why were they holding a gun to my fucking head?"

"Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," you cautioned, taking off your seatbelt so you could turn towards him. "What do you do for a living? How do you know people like that?"

"I rescue people," he said, and you scoffed. "I know that doesn't sound right, but it's true. I rescue missing people, usually kids."

"So, what? You're a cop?"

"Not exactly," he trails off. "I- I was sort of. Then, one day I was at a crime scene. I found a truck full of Chinese girls. They- they all had been kidnapped to be trafficked. I found them, but it was too late."

He paused, his voice cracking on his next words. "They were already dead."

The air in the car was getting heavy. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as Joe recounted the events that led him to his current occupation. 

"The man who killed my mom," he started. "Carl Alcott. He's coming for you. I don't mean to scare you, but he knows you're with me."

"Okay, so we'll leave."

Joe faltered. "You want to stay with me?"

"I do. That might seem crazy, but I do."

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head firmly. "No. You can't. This can't go on. We have to end this here before it gets too serious."

"I just saw you shoot someone," you reminded him. "It's already serious. I'm coming."

"No, Y/N! I refuse to let you be another person that I couldn't save. You have to leave alone—move very far away. You need to change your number, your bank information, everything."

"I'm not leaving you," you stated.

Joe grumbled, his mouth twitching in anger and pent up emotions. "Everyone always has! My father beat the shit outta my mom, and I just hid from him. I was too late to save those girls, and I've had too many children be ripped from my sight because I couldn't save them. I'm weak. I can't save you. I'm weak."

His whole body shook as strangled sobs escaped his lips. He brought his hands up to cover his face before he moved them down to tug off his vest and shirt. He was desperate to get out of the material that was making him feel too claustrophobic in the small car.

Once both of his tops were discarded to the back seat, you finally reached across the middle console and pulled Joe into your arms loosely. He clenched your shirt as his father's words,' only pussies and little girls slouch,' played through his mind like a broken record.

"It's okay. Let it all out," you said against his ear, rubbing a soothing circle over his back while still being mindful of his bruises and cuts. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving."

"You- you should."

"Maybe so," you said. "But I don't want to."

"You can't fix me."

"I don't want to; you're perfect the way you are. I only want to try and make you happier."

He retracted his head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. "Why?"

"I- I think I could fall in love with you," you admitted, shrugging slightly. You saw the onset of panic flash through Joe's eyes, so you quickly kept talking. "You don't have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you that."

He wiped his face of any tears and sighed. "I think I could fall in love with you too."

A smile tugged at your lips for first time since the date, and he again felt himself smiling right back.

You watched him put back on his seatbelt, and you swiftly copied his movements. "Where are we going to go now?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"I think we should probably do something about the body in the trunk."

He looked at you and laughed. "I think you're right."

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

It didn't take long to dispose of the gunman; after all, it wasn't Joe's first time. Before long, you were set out across the country to go wherever your hearts desired.

In the midst of the drive, his hand found yours across the console. And for once in his life, he didn't feel the need to run his car off the road.