#uuuh i'll continue this later

[turian]

got tagged by @greenecreek to take part in wip wednesday and i happened to be working on something in the moment that i don't know i'll be publishing anywhere else so ( also, tagging whatever writer mutuals are in the mood! i know that's cheating but <3 ) . actually edit. @anoramactir @bloodmagehawke hello >:)

so yeah this was going to be wyll/tav/astarion (? i don't even know what it started out as) time loop with the next chapter being wyll pov. warnings for body horror and ? a lot of death ? but idk if i'll rework it or scrap it or whatever. + this tav is a vague and deeply unserious construct thus far. and i began this so directionlessly and i think it really shows. tbh i think if i was to rewrite it i'd just start with wyll's point of view and have it center him. uuuh and yeah it's a first draft - here there be monsters and all that

Everything's going fine until Tav shoots some flaming fist bastard right in the arse and they turn their blade on him.

There's an attempt to explain himself (he's generally good at this) but they're on the second level of a burning building and a lot gets lost in translation. His voice, strangled by smoke, will not save him here.

As he falls, he hears Astarion object, which is interesting because Tav had been under the impression that, while he and the pale elf were certainly friends, they hadn't been as close as all that.

Then he feels Karlach topple over onto him, blood leaking, and all coherent thought is replaced by the sensation of burning alive.

-

Tav is in a pod.

Tav is in a pod, and that pod is on a nautiloid.

Tav is missing his sword, his scavenged outfit - and that had taken ages to dye to his specifications, hells - but his flesh is on his body, and does not look charred.

He lies there dazed for a moment, remembering burning.

Then he clambers out of the pod - kind of it to open for him - and makes an attempt at orienting himself.

He needn't strain so hard to remember burning - this nautiloid is, like the first he'd woken on, lit by the flickering amber of a hundred fires. Tav picks his way around them, tentatively at first, until he is better able to withstand the heat from them without getting lost in the burning of his own person.

He's alive, isn't he? So he'll just have to stow burning alive away and unpack it later. Much later, away from the eyes of his allies, especially since he has the sense Karlach will be feeling frightfully guilty about the whole thing. Karlach feeling guilty is terrible for morale, and must therefore be minimized.

Besides, someone's done a bang up job healing him. Nary a burn in sight. A brief swell of hope as he raises his hand to his face and-

Nope, that burn's still there. It feels sore. Fresher than it had been. But that must just be his imagination - and that happens, sometimes, doesn't it? Phantom pains are most certainly and certifiably a thing.

There's one of them blue glowing things at the edge of the room. He stops in front of it and wastes a moment or two on further inspection.

Interesting that all nautiloids have seemingly identical layouts. Then again, they are a hivemind, aren't they?

Are they just the one hivemind, or are there multiple hives? Is there some biological illithid layout imperative?

Is the nautiloid a species within itself? It looks organic. But a lot of things are technically organic.

Anyway, this is only one room. Perhaps he's being too hasty in his judgment of illithid architecture.

Tav moves on.

Just like on the nautiloid that had seen to his infection, this room opens into another, larger room, about - if not exactly - the same shape and size as what he'd previously experienced.

Tav's head is swimming in a pool of deja vu.

Perhaps not all nautiloids are alike, but this one was clearly born of the same production line as the one in which Tav had taken that first doomed voyage. And that's interesting, but it's not something he ought to be wasting time on at the moment, so he continues his march forward.

It occurs to him that he should be very frightened. A bit of desperation would help here. Ironically, that he feels steady at all - though it's more like a daze has settled over him, Tav would argue it is a very steady daze, so it counts - unnerves him.

We are here.

The familiar landscape is apparently so familiar that he's hearing echoes now. But Us can't be here. Us is dead, or maybe just elsewhere.

We are trapped. Help us.

Tav gazes pensively upward.

Or, more accurately, Usward.

Could Tav be dreaming?

Could Tav be dead?

Tav may be dead. Tav's life may be flashing before his eyes at the speed of geriatric molasses.

He takes issue with it starting at the nautiloid, but maybe when life flashes before one's eyes it has to start at the beginning of the end. So as not to over-complicate things or bore anyone or (ye gods) remind them of the moment of their birth.

But. No. The voice of Us is probably just an auditory hallucination. Tav should keep moving. Tav should find the others, if the others can be found.

Tav's legs do not move. Tav continues gazing Usward.

Curiosity is known to be a passionate supporter of bard mortality. It is, according to recent research overseen by a small faction of wizards who claim adherence to the scientific method but have never proven it, sixth in the running for most prolific Faerûnian bard killer. Per capita or whatever.

In other words, Tav takes the neural apparatus to the second floor.

He steps off it neatly, and beholds the nameless corpse from which Us was born.

Here is where Tav begins to speculate a bit more wildly on what exactly is happening to his own brain.

Tav could be in a coma. Oh, or Tav could be a proper illithid now. Perhaps this is what happens to souls once their bodies have gone all squiddy - they end up haunting their own memories. Maybe for eternity, maybe for however long illithids live.

How long do illithids live? And should the natural lifespan of the host body be taken into account? Will Tav be stuck in memory for upwards of a hundred years?

Gods, he should've listened to Gale more.

You've come to save us from this place, says Us upon approach. From this place you'll free us.

Tav sighs. "Might as well."

Pulling a brain from a skull is easier the second time around, which is nice. Tav would expect a memory or afterlife or whatever this is to put up more of a fight, because his brain has, in the past, has demonstrated a pattern of inconveniencing him whenever possible, but he's not going to complain if it wants to give him an easy time now. Honestly, he thinks he deserves it.

"Onwards, then," he tells Us, once they've finished sprouting legs.

They will go to the helm.

They wander down leathery steps. Tav pays special attention, this time, on the off chance that there might be some way out of this memory-dream-afterlife, but all he gets are the halls of the ship leaking nautiloid goo. Were he less distantly stressed, he might be more interested in all the valves and membranes, but upon rescuing Us a sense of urgency emerged within Tav. It is dim, but it is there, and it moves him forward quicker than before.

Onto the exposed walkway. A dragon flies past, the sight captivating enough that Lae'zel manages to startle him.

She lands. He stares. She raises her sword, threats flying from her lips, and then-

Cue the unpleasantness of parasites meeting.

"You know me," says Lae'zel, breaking the script, and Tav blinks in surprise.

"Yes," he says. "I assumed you wouldn't notice. To be honest, that is quite the relief. I feel a great deal less solipsistic now."

"Ghaik deception." Lae'zel's sword swings in what Tav feels is an unfairly targeted arc.

"Wait!" He jumps back, quick as he can, dodging her sword by only a hair's breadth. "I'm not-"

Shit.

Is that blood?

Yes.

Tav was mistaken in thinking he'd dodged Lae'zel's sword by a hair's breadth.

He falls to his knees, and then he topples over unceremoniously. His eyes stay open long enough to watch Lae'zel's retreating form.

Us, on the other hand, stands beside him until what is presumably the end.

Kind of them. Comforting, really.

But, comforted or not, Tav dies faintly irritated with himself for not having seen this coming.

-

Tav is in a pod.

Tav is... not dead?

Tav is in a pod, and Tav is not dead.

Tav is without his rapier, but Tav has his hand crossbow, and once Tav has climbed free of said pod and wandered to the second room, Tav has Us, which is sort of like having a decent weapon. A little pink fleshy weapon with legs. Claws, too, and aren't claws multiple weapons? Or do they just count as one?

Tav decides they just count as one.

Instead of going the same way he'd come this time, he busies himself looking for someone who won't immediately stab him. Shadowheart is further ahead and therefore inaccessible, but Astarion and Gale and Karlach and Wyll had all been on the ship as well, hadn't they? Astarion had complained of Tav running straight by his pod, and Karlach and Gale had seen him.

Unless Tav's memories are playing tricks on him. All of this may just be Tav's memories playing tricks on him.

Gods, their pods must all be past Lae'zel too.

Can he sneak past Lae'zel?

No. No, he definitely can't.

Waiting for Lae'zel to go on ahead of him is an option, though. He can wait in this room and watch until she flips through the air and into battle. And then he can follow after her, and...

Catch up. Eventually. Yes.

And not get his throat cut this time.

Or Tav can come up with a way to demonstrate to Lae'zel that there is no ghaik trickery in play here.

The trouble is Tav personally also suspects ghaik trickery, which limits his ability to sell the story somewhat.

Tav is a very good liar when he can convince himself he's telling the truth, but he can't quite get his head right at the moment. Probably because of all the dying. Tav's not sure. He's invested in psychology because he's invested in charlatanism, not because he's invested in mental wellness.

Suspicion of ghaik trickery is some common ground, though, isn't it? And where there is common ground there is leverage.

Right, so. Lead with the ghaik trickery, appeal to Lae'zel's team spirit, get Shadowheart and possibly the others. And then... profit.

Tav isn't sure this is a good plan, but that might just be a confidence issue.

Tav tries very hard to drum up some confidence.

We are going to the helm, Us reminds him.

"Right. Yes. We are going to the fucking helm," Tav agrees. "Tymora willing." He takes a deep breath, steels himself, and goes.

They wander out onto the open walkway.

This time Tav is ready for Lae'zel, and when she comes whipping through the air and lands before him, he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace and steps out of sword-reach.

"Hello, Lae'zel. I think we may be in an illithid memory prison. You likely don't remember me, but we need to get off of this ship, and I know the way out. I also know of several allies who are likely either on the ship or trapped in the same, er, memory prison that I and perhaps also you are."

He's missing something.

Oh, right. "The intellect devourer is not currently a threat," Tav adds hastily.

Lae'zel sneers at him. "You are mad." She seems at war with herself for a moment. Tav assumes the war is between killing him and using him as cannon fodder. It seems cannon fodder wins out, because Lae'zel offers Tav a nod, even as her eyes remain narrowed in suspicion. "Very well. We are wasting time. Forward."

The bard moves forward.

Lae'zel moves forward directly behind him.

Now three in number, they make quick work of the imps in play. And then forward again, and-

Tav makes a beeline for the pod currently host to Karlach.

This is good. This is progress.

"I need leverage." Tav pulls off saying this like a professional. He is not an artificer, but he has impersonated one before, and likes sometimes to slip back into that brusque engineering persona. Tav likes to think that was him in another life, before most of the honesty left him. He gestures to the groove on the pod in which the aforementioned leverage might fit. "Lae'zel, could you pry this open with your sword?"

"We are wasting time," says Lae'zel.

"No you're bloody not wasting your bloody time," says Karlach, muffled by pod. She bangs her horns against the transparent pane, and it cracks.

"Or just smash it, Lae'zel," Tav says. "Come on, I know you can do it. You won't even have to break a sweat. You will bring honour to your queen!"

Lae'zel shoots him an absolutely foul look tinged with even more suspicion than before, but she does smash the pod.

From it bursts one leather-clad fiery tiefling. "Gods, thought that was going to be the end of me." Her golden eyes fix on Tav. "You know a way out of this mess, soldier? Oh, shit, introductions. Name's Karlach."

Tav is very glad Karlach can't remember possibly burning him to death that one time. He offers her one of his most winning smiles (he has a whole closet full, organized from least to most winning) and sticks his hand out (reflex) before putting it back into his pocket (sense has kicked in). "I'm Tav, that's Lae'zel, this is Us. And... yes, actually. We were just on our way to the helm."

Friend! Us skitters in a little circle around Karlach, wide enough that they are not burnt. To the helm we go! We are going to the helm!

Tav wants to keep them. Tav wants to carry them around in his bag like a little lapdog and feed them only the best-

What do intellect devourers eat?

Only the best intellect, he supposes. Academics and suchlike.

"Helm it is, then." And with that, Karlach's off at a brisk pace.

Then she's back. "Helm's this way, yeah?"

Tav frowns. "I think... yes. Yes, that's the way."

"To the helm," says Karlach. She begins again to move.

Lae'zel follows efficiently, Us jauntily, Tav somewhat pathetically. Tav's day job is the sale of snake oil, which doesn't demand much cardio. He has, by now, worked up a sweat.

He keeps an eye out for Gale or Wyll or Astarion as they go, but no other pods bear familiar faces.

For reasons mostly related to being a selfish bastard, it does not occur to Tav to save the unfamiliar ones until they're already in the room with Shadowheart's pod.

But then it does occur to him, and he's about to say something about it to Karlach, who is certainly the only one present who'll sympathize, but she's found Shadowheart's pod already and is seemingly searching for a way to crack it open.

"There's a key thing in the-" Tav says, but he's struck silent by awe mid-sentence as Karlach takes the roof of Shadowheart's pod in both hands and gives a great wrench and-

"Wow," says Tav.

Karlach grins at him. Prying the pod open seems to have left her slightly electrocuted. Her hair's a little spikier than it was before, and she's swaying a bit.

Shadowheart pushes herself up off the ground. "Than-"

Tadpoles meet.

Not Tav's tadpole, this time. Tav is uninvolved. So while Karlach and Shadowheart have their moment, he leaves them to it, and gets to sifting through the other pods in the room.

Quite a few of the people interned are entirely unconscious. None thus far are Gale or Astarion (or Wyll, for that matter, though Tav's not sure Wyll got a pod. Had Wyll seen him on the ship? He hadn't, had he?)

Whatever. He'll find who he'll find. Wyll included, hopefully. Or Wyll will find them. That'll work too.

Tav continues into an adjoining room, quick as can be. He searches pod after pod, until-

Wide red eyes meet Tav's.

"I'll get you out in a moment," he tells Astarion. "Just let me figure out how." There are some wrong moves he's willing to make, but any that might run the risk of turning one of his allies illithid are off limits.

Actually-

"Karlach? Do you think you could-"

Oh, right. Karlach isn't in the room.

Tav jogs back into the Shadowheart zone, miserable at the exertion. He'd been athletic once, but that was another buried personality that had fallen out of favour with his criminal lifestyle. Gods, he could have been an acrobat.

Now is not a good time to get bogged down in regrettable life choices, though, is it? Onward.

Karlach spots Tav the moment he's through the illithid sphincter-door. She's standing by the door that leads to the helm. Shadowheart and Lae'zel are already out of sight, no doubt prioritizing the helm over newfound bards. "Coming, soldier? Got to land this thing."

"Actually-"

"Come on! Don't want you getting left behind."

"I need help. My-"

"Your what?" Karlach takes a step toward him. She seems a bit concerned. Well, a lot concerned, but there's a fresh bit of it directed solely at Tav instead of at the situation at large now.

"My friend," says Tav. Calling Astarion a friend seems like the sort of thing that should be a lie, but doesn't really feel like one. "He's in a pod. I need your help getting him out and then we can-"

"Shit." Karlach casts a look over her shoulder. "Gimme a minute, yeah?" she calls.

Objections from Shadowheart and Lae'zel are voiced, but Karlach's already running Tav's way.

"Where's your friend?" she asks.

Tav shows her.

Karlach makes quick work of Astarion's pod, just as she had before with Shadowheart's. This is, however, the second time she's been electrocuted on behalf of rescues, and when she stumbles back there is a moment Tav is genuinely afraid for her.

But she steadies herself, and as soon as she has, Tav heals her.

The trouble with healing your allies is that it takes your attention off of people who do not yet know they are your allies.

Distraction is known to be a passionate supporter of bard mortality. It is, according to recent research overseen by a small faction of wizards who claim adherence to the scientific method but have never proven it, fifth in the running for most prolific Faerûnian bard killer.

Per capita.

Astarion's dagger is at Tav's throat now. "No sudden moves, now. Best we preserve that darling little neck of yours."

"For Tymora's sake," Tav hisses. He tries to wriggle out of the hold, but his dexterity fails him, as does his wit. There is a sharp pain at his throat.

"What part of no sudden moves don't you understand?" Astarion barks at Tav.

Tav slides slowly to the ground. I wasn't thinking, he wants to say. Because Tav is choking on blood, he doesn't quite manage.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

"For Tymora's sake."

He goes through the motions again at a run. A very uncomfortable run. Dying in the midst of your cardio ensures you reap none of its benefits.

Grab Us, convince Lae'zel not to kill you, get Karlach, Shadowheart, bring Karlach on the little search for Astarion's pod this time and shave a little time off that way-

So far so good. Tav and Karlach stand before the pod that holds one sunless magistrate.

Tav's a bit cross, throat still phantom smarting, so this time his first words to Astarion are as follows: "Do not slit my fucking throat," all but shouted through the panel between them.

"Er, Tav?" Karlach's eyeing him.

"Yes, Karlach?"

"Thought you said this was your friend...?"

"Well." Tav shrugs. "Usually. Yes."

Karlach nods. "Got a few like that myself. Right, here goes nothing."

She yanks the pod open and stumbles back. Tav heals her before Astarion can get his bearings and - this is important - without turning his back on the elf.

Astarion keeps his eyes on Tav, though Tav can tell the elf is also holding Karlach in his peripheral vision. "I think you've fallen victim to a case of mistaken identity, my dear."

"Mm." Tav crosses his arms. "Yes. You may simply have generic features."

Astarion smirks at him. "Ever heard the one about pots and kettles, darling?"

Karlach clears her throat loudly. "Ship's crashing. Do this later, yeah?" She looks around, and then at Tav. "Think there's a way to get the rest of these people out of their pods?"

Tav tears his eyes away from Astarion for a fraction of a second before thinking better of it and whipping his neck back in the vigilant direction quick as he can. Astarion hasn't moved. Thank Tymora.

Astarion is still glaring at Tav.

"We could try, but... are they conscious?" The bard's teeth worry at his bottom lip. "Let's... land the ship properly this time. And then we can get them all out."

That'll be great. They'll have a little army of tadpoled individuals.

"Brilliant. Well, come on, then. 'Fore Shadowheart 'n' Lae'zel wander off without us." And with that, Karlach's turned on her heal and zoomed back helmward.

Tav keeps his eyes on Astarion.

The elf rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to slit your throat. Stop wasting time."

For a beat, neither of them move. Their eyes narrow. The air is tense, as are rogue and bard respectively.

But then Astarion throws his hands up in the air, exasperated, and follows Karlach, and Tav follows Astarion in kind.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel are ahead. Karlach catches up first - just in time for Lae'zel to stop them all and make it known that once at the helm, all must do as she says.

Shadowheart, unsurprisingly, objects.

Tav casts an eye over at Astarion while this objection is taking place, expecting a quip of some sort, but Astarion's eyes are dark and his mouth is set in a grim line and he looks past Shadowheart and Lae'zel, perhaps imagining the battle ahead. Perhaps calculating his chance of survival.

Tav nudges him gently. "It'll be alright. Just- get behind me if you need to."

Astarion scoffs at him. "The devil would make a better shield. But thank you. I suppose."

Tav is too busy feeling insulted to point out that Karlach is actually a tiefling.

Astarion takes a steeling breath. "Forward, then," he says, as far as Tav can make out - the words are barely a murmur.

Tav watches the elf. He's about to say something encouraging, but his tongue ends up in knots instead, and by the time speech is possible again Astarion has already gone after the others and into the fray.

Forward.

Tav moves forward.

From that point on things go from middling, and then to bad, and then to very bad, and then to worse, and then finally to the worst. This all happens in the span of half a minute.

Middling: Tav moves toward the helm.

Bad: Tav must somehow glide through a caustic puddle of brine.

Very bad: Tav slips in the brine and falls.

Worse: Tav cracks his head on the ground and blacks out for a moment.

The worst: An imp shoots fire at him, which is when Tav realizes this brine is flammable.

He writhes around a bit until death shows up for its petty little reset by way of a sharp pressure to his brain.

-

Tav is roused from fiery blankness to find he is once again in his pod on the nautiloid.

He feels rather like an arrow's just gone through his head. There's no arrow now, of course. There is only the suggestion of an arrow. The extremely strong implication of an arrow.

He excavates himself from his pod with considerably more malaise than last time.

That he's begun to think of it as his pod in the way one might think of a pestilent little hovel as their pestilent little hovel is disturbing. Tav had until now been likening the pod to a conversation he'd not yet worked out how to leave.

Not a home. Not a place in which he's doomed to live. He prefers his actual pestilent little hovel, which was in a breakneck little alley not far from a tavern or two. That hovel had been a colleague rather than an unwanted housemate, whereas this pod clings to Tav. This pod won't even do the bloody dishes, and yet still it fucking clings.

Tav is a believer in the Baldurian dream, when it suits him. He is a believer in having nowhere to go but up. He is a believer in trying the broken ladder again, even after the thousandth time you've fallen off of it.

Or, well, some of him believes in such things. The rest of Tav has more sense. The rest of Tav also isn't currently interested in dying again.

But you will die, says one of Tav's inner voices. Regardless of your participation in the loop, it will kill you.

But, Tav argues, I will then be given another chance to participate in the loop. Presumably. Or I won't, and that will have solved the problem of my being trapped in it.

He wanders into the next room and breaks Us out of cranial prison. Tav has by this point grown to think of Us as a dear friend and the only one he can really trust to have his back. Us is ever present. Us will remain ever present if Tav never makes it onto the beach again.

Tav could just enjoy eternity here.

We must go to the helm, Us says.

"I'm actually just going to relax a bit," Tav explains to them. "You're welcome to go on ahead, but there's a- er, someone in the hall over there that might kill you if you wander around unaccompanied, so I might advise against that." He leans back on the leathery ground and sprawls his limbs out like a starfish and pretends he's staring at the stars.

We must connect the nerves, Us insists.

"Someone else will connect the nerves. She's very enterprising. I have the utmost faith in her."

Us nudges him. You are being somewhat unprofessional, friend.

"Oh." Tav weighs the accusation. "Yes, I suppose I am. I'd apologize but, well. I've actually been to the helm before. I'm getting a bit annoyed by it."

Us is quiet for a long moment. I do not understand.

"Have a look through my memories if you like. I'm just going to have a nap while you do that, though. Night, kid."

Tav shuts his eyes. Dozes. Drifts.

He's just awake enough to enjoy dreams and reality simultaneously after the gentle pressure of Us taking him up on the offer to peruse his thoughts fades out.

This dream is sort of a nice one. Wyll's in it. Tav sits at his side, mug of ale in hand.

It occurs to him to show off a bit. "Hold my ale," he tells Wyll, and then he begins to hover.

But someone's hands are on Tav's shoulder, trying to pull him back to the ground. "Quit it," Tav hisses, and tries to knock those hands away.

"Wake up," says Wyll. "Tav, this is not the time to sleep in!"

Strange. Wyll's voice is coming from behind Tav, not from Wyll's seat on the riverbank.

"Do you hear that?" Tav asks Wyll. "That ghost is very good at impersonating you."

Wyll looks confused. "If there is a ghost, Tav, I can neither see nor hear it."

"It's right behind me," Tav insists. "It's trying to fuck up my flight trajectory."

"Is it a flight trajectory if you're only hovering?" Wyll asks.

"They're definitely the same thing."

"I think you'll find they have different connotations," Wyll says, finger raised. Wyll often raises a finger when dispensing wisdom.

It's quite endearing. Tav is oft endeared.

The ghost gives another tug. "Please wake up. I would rather you not perish in the wreck."

This is when Tav wakes up. He makes a noise befitting someone just waking up which is mostly made of consonants and confusion.

Then he sits up, eyes wide. "Wyll?"

"The very same," says Wyll, with about as much good humour warranted in such circumstances. "Good to have you with us. I fear we are in dire straits - but there is a chance we right this ship, and I would see us take it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I was going to sit this round ou-" But Tav can't do that to Wyll. It's Wyll.

Wyll - and also Karlach, come to think of it - are some of those rare examples of good people that do not make Tav want to electrocute himself. Instead they make him want to do better.

Tav believes this is what is known as "cruel and unusual punishment."

Thing is, Tav's done a lot of work to accept being as horrible as he is, to hone his horrible qualities, to keep them sharp as a githyanki blade, and here Wyll and Karlach are being good bloody examples who don't even have the grace to be annoying about it.

Well, here Wyll is. Karlach's in the general vicinity, but her hereness is less... here.

"Never mind what I was just saying," says Tav wearily. "I know the way to the helm. I'll show you, shall I?"

Wyll looks about to laugh, but before Tav can get to wondering why, he nods, and makes a rather princely gesture in what is actually precisely the right direction. "By all means, lead the way."

Perhaps Wyll studied illithid architecture at some point.

Or could just be a coincidence. Who knows.

Tav's pace is tethered to his malaise. He drags himself through the ship like a weight chained to his own leg.

Wyll is ahead at first. Lae'zel is gone and the imps are already dead - there is no barrier between Wyll, those trailing him, and the fulfillment of their helmic aspirations.

No barrier save Tav.

Wyll turns at first with impatience. "I beg you keep up. Our time here is short, and we have already been delayed."

"Sure." Tav tries to force pep into his step. Pep doesn't take, so he tries next for urgency.

Urgency doesn't take. Wyll casts a glance over his shoulder again.

Tav expects another round of impatience. But no, this is a different side of the hero - Wyll looks perturbed.

There is a pause of the sort that makes Tav squirm. He senses he is being worried about. Likely sincerely, hence the squirming.

"Are you injured, Tav?"

"Physically? No." Tav pushes himself into a very light jog. I am not stuck in a time loop, says the jog. All is well, says the jog. Please continue on without me if need be, as I am far less in shape than I look, says the jog. "Er. Fight or flight instinct might be on vacation."

"I am familiar with the feeling," Wyll admits. "When one spends much of their time courting danger, I fear one risks becoming inured to it."

"You don't know the half of it," Tav says. He would sigh, but he's trying to preserve his energy. Speaking is enough trouble as it is. "We should get As- Assistance. Er. Break some more people out of pods...?"

Imps materialize in their path.

Wyll stabs one aspect of the imp blockade through the heart, and over his shoulder, as easily as he were not exerting himself at all, says: "If we see any other captives are conscious, we may free them. I wish that we could do more, but we have little time. The ship is falling fast."

Tav has the grace to feel a bit of nap related guilt just then. Most of his guilt is busy elsewhere, though, because he's just realized he must have left his flute and little crossbow where he'd been taking said nap. Which is sort of nap related guilt, but only tangentially. "I know where someone is. Couple rooms away. I... was moved."

Us savages an imp with their claws.

Wyll skewers another. "They will have a better chance of survival if the ship does not dash itself on the rocks of Avernus."

"They're claustrophobic," Tav lies. Well, he isn't certain it's a lie.

"And how would being buried in rubble serve them?" The imps have been dealt with. Wyll places a hand on Tav's shoulder.

It is firm. Reassuring.

If Tav didn't know Wyll, he'd feel a bit condescended to.

"Your friend will be alright, Tav. I swear it."

"Ally," Tav corrects out of reflex.

Wyll's lips twitch with amusement. "Very well. Your ally will be alright. Eventually."

And then Wyll takes Tav's hand, and their pace grows breakneck. A rush to the helm. Tav has barely the time passing through room after room to note that Shadowheart has been freed from her pod.

That's something. That's-

They reach the helm and ah, good. There's Shadowheart, there's Lae'zel, there's-

Cambions. Two whole extra bloody cambions.

They'd been advancing on the others but now they turn on Wyll and Tav.

Wyll is ready. Tav not so much.

The whole left the flute and crossbow somewhere else problem rears its ugly head yet again.

Fuck it. Bard mode. He can still whistle. Or sing, if everyone he's loyal to in this fight ends up killed or deafened.

Tav can in fact sing quite well. It's only out of an interest in the preservation of allied hearing and sanity that he doesn't.

It's not that his vocals are discordant, exactly. It's more that they're a bit maddening. Tav might have had a great great grandmother that was a harpy or something. Some gene that opted out of the family line until the time came for him to be born. He's not worked out how to control it yet.

He's actually given up on working out how to control it.

So. Whistling. Whistling is bad, but not as bad. It helps that Tav is legitimately sort of terrible at whistling. He can pull it off six times out of ten.

He's about to start when a fireball comes out of nowhere.

-

"Pod. Hello, pod. You're supposed to be opening."

The pod doesn't listen.

"Excuse me, pod." Tav bangs on the glass.

Yet again, no response from the pod.

"Well. Fine. See if I care."

Tav sits in his pod for the duration of this loop. It's... not great, but it's a little novel. Good to know random things can go wrong that hadn't before.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

Tav thinks alright, might as well give it another go.

Tav gets into a fight with an illithid he's never seen before and loses.

The novelty of loops being a tad unpredictable wears off quick.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

Tav makes a beeline for Lae'zel. He looks for Wyll all the while, hoping he might come out of the woodwork early or something. Hoping unpredictability might work in Tav's favour for once.

No such luck.

Tav and the company he and Lae'zel gather go to the helm.

Tav gets gored by some porcine hellion's tusks.

Tav bleeds out on the floor.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

Tav is knocked off the ship by turbulence before he can even say hello to Lae'zel.

As he falls, he gets to wondering if maybe novelty is actually a bad thing. Maybe the fact that this can get worse is not something Tav should be happy about.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

Tav goes through the motions.

Tav and company go to the helm.

Tav only gets shot a little bit.

Shadowheart connects the nerves.

So far so good.

Tav falls, and wakes on the beach.

It seems they've all been scattered by the crash. Lae'zel's nowhere to be seen. The others aren't either. Tav is about to wake Shadowheart when he remembers the predicament Gale was in the first time they'd all met, and that becomes his top priority.

Unfortunately Tav has forgotten about the intellect devourers milling about in the ship's burning remains.

He doesn't keep his distance.

It is a very short fight.

-

Tav wakes in his pod.

Things are a bit tenser than usual this time. Because Tav knows he can make it to the beach, at least in theory, he is determined to do so. He is also a bit devastated at his prior inability to remain alive on the beach, which manages to throw him off enough that there are several near misses as he makes his way there this time.

Someone (Tav isn't even certain who, as he's busy trying not to die when it happens) does manage to connect the nerves of the transponder, and the ship goes crashing onto the beach.

Tav goes crashing with it.

Thank Tymora, he thinks, when he opens his eyes to find he is once again somewhat covered in sand.

With some effort - his muscles ache, his bones creak, he feels a hundred years older than he is - Tav pushes himself into a sitting position.

There's Wyll. Wyll is running toward him.

Tav blinks. More novelty, it seems. At least this is the good sort.

Wyll stops at where Shadowheart lies first. He kneels to rouse her.

Tav decides he's not really needed for this and slumps backward onto the sand. Then Tav remembers the plight of Gale and sits bolt upright again. Pushes himself to his feet.

He sways a bit. Not because he's infirm, but because his balance hasn't really come back yet.

Gods, he used to be so poised. So bloody catlike. And now look at him.

"Excuse me! Hi, we haven't met before, but I happen to know of someone nearby in need of our assistance." He recalls Lae'zel in the tiefling trap. "A few someones, actually."

Wyll smiles. It's an interesting smile. Some combination of amusement and relief, or else just amusement born of relief. "Of course. Allow me to introduce myself. The Blade of Frontiers, at your service."

"Charmed. I'm Tav. Let's get to it, shall we?"

"Of course. I take it you're unharmed?"

"Mm. Mhm. Bit groggy, but. No rest for the wicked," Tav tells him sagely. "You know."

"No rest for the wicked indeed. I suppose you're casting yourself as the wicked, then?"

"It's all about perspective," says Tav sagely, as if this means anything at all. Sometimes Tav just says things. If one says things with enough conviction they tend to go unchallenged, either because you've been believed by default or because people don't feel arguing with you is worth the headache. "You're good to travel together, yes?"

"It would be my honour."

"Great," says Tav. "I'm sure it would be my honour too, if I had any. Let's get moving. There's some-"

"Intellect devourers?" Wyll shakes his head. "Cleared out. Before you awoke, I imagine."

"Oh. Good. Well, there's also a wi-"

"The wizard trapped in the rune? He and another ally of ours have gone on ahead to free Lae'zel."

"Oh. Well, we should go and free our gi- Hm? What?"

"All of our band is present and accounted for save one," Wyll tells him. "And we will find her at first light, I swear it. She must not face violence at the hands of her pursuers."

"Hm." Tav kicks a rock. It rolls about a foot before coming to a stop by the unseeing eyes of some mangled fisherman. "Right. Okay."

"We must first see to the safety of the grove."

Tav frowns. "Yeah." His mental processors are working overtime. Something is... weird.

Wait a fucking moment.

"How do you know my name?"

Wyll blinks. Smiles at Tav. "You just introduced yourself."

"But I mean-"

The Blade ducks his head. He still looks amused, but Tav catches the way his eyes dart behind him to where Shadowheart stands listening. "Let us speak on it later. The safety of the grove must be our priority."

And then Wyll offers Tav a hand and Tav, after a moment of undignified staring, takes it.

[eeemarvel]

Concept #72

Villain takes people hostage and tells Hero to meet their demands or else they’ll kill one every hour. The problem? Hero is asleep and has no idea this is happening.

Bonus points if they’re sleeping due to illness or injury or just plain exhaustion

@morallygreyprompts thank you <3

Victor wasn’t sure what it was about the holiday season in Spring Gate, but it was like whatever crazy dust the villains were snorting on a daily basis had suddenly and completely run out, thus driving them all insane.

Victor wasn’t sure what it was about the holiday season in Spring Gate, but it was like whatever crazy dust the villains were snorting on a daily basis had suddenly and completely run out, thus driving them all insane.

It was Christmas Eve, the day before his birthday, and he was running around town, chasing villains. Not that he minded. Snapping cuffs on villains kept his mind off of things. The move to Spring Gate. His new job as a hero. The fact that he was the only hero in America who wasn’t retired… It was all so nerve-racking, but the media couldn’t stop singing his praise.

Which only made him more nervous, because what if he screwed up? The thought constantly nagged him, even as he snapped yet another pair of nano-cuffs onto a new thief, Fanfare. The police stuffed him away into the back of a van then crowded around Victor.

“You changed your suit again!”

“Is it true you’re only twenty-two? You’re so young to be this good!”

“Where did you train?”

“Did you go to The Grand Prix Academy? My sister and I went there, so maybe we know you!”

“I heard a rumor you were a police officer!”

“That doesn’t make sense, he’s only nineteen…”

“Twenty-two!”

“No, The Weekly Cape confirmed he was twenty-three…”

“That rag?! You actually get your information from the Cape?”

“Officers,” Victor held his hands up as a kind of flimsy fence. He felt overwhelmed. “Uh, thank you so much for your service. I think I should get going now.”

“Already?!”

“Uh, well, I think something might be happening on the south side…” he fibbed, feeling attacked, and static crinkled in his ear. Saved by the Boss. He held up an apologetic finger and turned away to answer Yakov on his comm link.

“Winter. Status report,” Yakov barked.

“Fanfare has been apprehended and is in transit. Lovemary, Captain Ahab, and Juice have also been apprehended and should be touching down at Ares Island within the hour.”

“Good work. It’s almost three so you shouldn’t have too much to worry about now. Do your rounds, report back in, then you’re done.”

“Copy that,” he said and Yakov clicked out as he turned back to the officers. “Duty calls,” he said weakly as he backed away and he felt guilty when he saw their crestfallen faces. Talking to the public, even if it was just officers was still so…hard even though he’d been doing this for two years now. He jogged up a block, the wintry air barely making him shiver, and thought about how he could’ve handled that differently. Should he have made a joke? Or given them gifts? That was ridiculous. Yakov never gave civilians gifts just because… Just the idea was absurd. He tried to imagine himself carrying around a large sack of wrapped presents like a flaming fuchsia Santa, just to have handy in case anyone asked him a question he was too nervous to answer.  

At least he only had his rounds left. Taking a few leisurely laps around the city would help him to relax. He was so mentally spent. Usually, he took down about one or two four-star villains a week. Today, he’d taken down six. By himself. Was it weird to think that hero work was lonely? He couldn’t talk to his best friend after all, not after last month when he officially debuted as an international jewel thief. Why, Chris? Victor could’ve helped him… He wished Chris had talked to Victor… told him something, anything.

And what would he have told you, stupid?

What could someone like Chris tell his best friend, a hero, if he were moonlighting as a cat burglar? I’ve got sticky fingers and I need your help? Victor found himself not caring at all that Chris was a criminal, because he just wanted his friend back. He wanted to bitch and moan about how he couldn’t find the right costume even though Billy was a great if not eccentric designer. About how Yakov and Lilia were officially split up. About all the criminals in Spring Gate. About Celestino’s new hair. About how he hadn’t seen Yuri in a few weeks now. About how he was thinking of cutting his own hair and what style Chris thought would be good for him… There was so much to tell his friend and he had no idea how to even contact him.

He almost bumped into a staggering pedestrian, definitely drunk, and Victor grabbed the man’s shoulders to steady him. The man slurred Victor’s hero name adoringly as he fell against Victor’s chest.

“You all right, buddy?” Victor asked awkwardly, trying hard not to think about vomit.

“You’re the nicest man in the world,” the man blubbered into Victor’s shoulder. He was putting all his weight on Victor and he reeked of something cheap and strong. “Sooo kind…”

“I’m going to call you a taxi, ok?” And to Victor’s horror, the man burst into tears. He tried to get a better look at the man’s face around his wild bushy hair. “Uh, are you ok?!”

“Yes!”

“W-why are you crying then?”

“Because you’re so fucking nice! And you smell so nice too!”

“Ah, right then,” Victor, with some effort because the man really was leaning his entire body on him, pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed a taxi service. After making the call, he gently tried to coax the man into an upright position but he groaned and convulsed.

Victor stepped back just in time as the man was violently sick on the sidewalk. Chris, help me. He tried not to gag. He just needed to breathe through his mouth. He gently took the man’s hand to pull him away from the puddle he’d made.

“I think you should sit down,” Victor said and eased him down on to the asphalt. He held his hand out and procured a cup made of ice and filled it to the brim with water. He handed this to the man who giggled.

“Bottom’s up,” he mumbled and downed it all as if it were a shot. He gave the empty container an affronted look as if it had lied to him and he threw the ice into the street.

“Better…?”

He closed his eyes. Rested his head against the building behind him. “It’s finally quiet,” he sighed.

A few minutes later, the taxi pulled up, and Victor was afraid the man was in no position to tell the driver where he lived. His suspicions were confirmed when Victor asked only to be answered by a fit of hysterical giggles. Victor searched the man’s pockets and didn’t find a wallet or even a set of keys. He scratched his head and turned to the driver.

“Can you take him to this address?” He asked as he handed over a business card for History Maker. The headquarters weren’t official yet as it was just a small office downtown. Lilia wanted to move to a bigger space. Yakov saw no reason to and Victor agreed since he was the only hero there. In any case, Yakov would be there, and maybe the man could sleep on the couch in the waiting room until morning. He paid the taxi driver who looked put upon, gently hoisted the man into the back seat, and continued his rounds. He checked his phone.

2:50. He guessed he earned a break. He slipped into an alley to deactivate his suit and power down. He walked a block to a seven eleven to buy cheetos and an iced coffee and ignored the weird look he got from the cashier. He strolled down the dark street, thinking about how the drunk man was right–it really was quiet now– and finally found a place to sit and eat on a bus stop bench. He sighed as he sat down and a wave of exhaustion hit him.

He hadn’t realized just how fatigued he was until he sat down. His muscles felt heavy in his arms as he lifted his coffee to his lips. It was good coffee, he thought. He blinked and when he opened his eyes again, he realized he was still holding the cup to his lips. Had he taken another sip? The cup slipped in his hands and he jumped, frightened at the sudden movement. Catching it just in time, he set it down on the bench next to him. He’d drink it later… he pulled at the bag of cheetos.

Why was it difficult to open? Stupid chips. He just needed to take his time. Then they’d open for sure.

*

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news from downtown Spring Gate where a hostage situation has broken out at a McDonald’s on sixth. We have Hisashi Morooka on the scene now. Morooka, what can you tell us?”

“Well, as you can see, West, the restaurant has been surrounded by police cars and authorities are at a stand still as the hostage taker has made demands that have not yet been made public…”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, West, but it seems that the hostage taker is a super power so our officers are exercising caution. I think we’re looking at a fire type, and I have just gotten word that there are roughly eleven hostages.”

“Any word from our heroes, Morooka?”

“Not yet. As you know, Winter Torch has had quite the Christmas Eve, cleaning up Spring Gate since early yesterday– ah, and it seems like our hostage-taker is coming out! He’s got a woman in his arms, West and–”

“WINTER! TORCH! WINTER! TORCH! COME HERE! NOOOOOOW!”

[yyukhei]

hi just found your account and uuuh if you wanna spill the tea about miss "i ruin ppl's lives for a living" sasaeng please do i can't believe she still walks around freely without a care in the world

BUCKLE IN KIDS THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST and same like it's very disturbing that SM is giving her a silver platter to stalk the boys. 

The sasang I was specifically referring to is fttm (flytothemoon0), who stalks many of the boys but particularly stalks Yangyang of WayV these days. She hates Kun and Lucas with a passion, and is likely one of the multiple sasangs that made the fake accusations against Lucas (I'll show evidence of all this under the cut so you can come to your own conclusion.)

As a quick summary, here are literally just a few pieces of evidence of her stalking/following YY to unannounced schedules, along with invasive pictures taken in inappropriate places, etc etc. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

There's plenty more, but you can just check out her account to see them yourself. Anyway, here's all about her under the cut (bc this is going to be loooonnngggg. She's been stalking the neos since debut)

View on Twitter

View on Twitter

She has followed and harassed the boys so many times that they started snapping back a while ago. She was taking photos of them going to the bathroom, following them to undisclosed filming locations, calling them nonstop, and booking the same flights, etc etc.

View on Twitter

The boys got so annoyed that Lucas started snapping pictures of her back (likely in a "see how it feels?" way) and later that day Lucas was still so upset he started posting on his bbl about it

She was getting into arguments with Kun badly enough that she tried to start false rumors about him being a bully predebut

View on Twitter

Even today she continuously follows them EVERYWHERE. I'm not sure how she keeps getting in, but I've read before that she's an SM higher-up's relative (daughter? idk?) and that's why she's given special treatment.

You can see here she was allowed directly behind the boys by SM staff (no one else was allowed anywhere near that close) and was even chatting with them.

View on Twitter

View on Twitter

In this post that WayV made that day, people think Hendery specifically ducked down so that you could clearly see her sitting in the front row, where she's hiding her face.

View on Twitter

Many people (like me) believe that she, along with other sasangs (there have been about 4 ppl linked to the account that made the false accusations against Lucas) made the fake cheating post and created the whole scandal bc Lucas kept fighting back at her.

If anyone wants to check out everything that's been debunked about the Lucas allegation, feel free to check out this account. Just be ready to read some heavy opinions and arguments, as OP is quite...blunt...😅

View on Twitter

View on Twitter

View on Twitter

View on Twitter

Also, to explain why I said she also recently tried to start a Johnny scandal

[thatssonanii]

The Things We Have to Lose Pt. 1

SVU Fic

July had come and gone, before anyone knew it they were sitting at mid-August. Time had flown it had been a blur. In between cases, Peach and Carisi were able to welcome her family and show them Hudson's campus then get her settled into her dorm. They were all very thankful for his niece, Mia, as she played a big role in getting Kaci acclimated to the school and forms serving as the RA.

Elliott and Olivia were finally able to have a conversation with Kathleen about Noah. As expected, she didn't take the news well and lashed out at them both. Deep down inside though, Kathleen always knew how her father felt about Olivia and Olivia about him, but for the sake of her mother and all she had been taught she didn’t want to accept it. Olivia and Elliott agreed to give her all the space she needed, they placed all of their attention on Eli and Noah. After all the two of them needed all of the attention they could get.

Things were moving steadily for Hasim and Amanda, getting more and more serious. They were happy without a doubt, the girls loved him but then there was Amanda. She was happy but also becoming pessimistic.

"Dinner tonight?" Hasim asked glancing at his phone from the road.

After not hearing from his girlfriend after she dropped the girls off, Hasim decided to FaceTime her on his way to work.

"Uuuh, yeah. Hopefully Im able to leave at a decent time. If not, go on and eat without me."

He chuckled. "The point of it was to see you, Amanda. How about this," he paused to make a turn, "I'll call when I get off and if you're not off yet, I'll grab the girls and make dinner. Sound good?"

She offered him a small smile nodding. "Sounds good. I've gotta go though. Fin is calling."

The Sargeant wasn't calling her, she just wanted some time to herself before getting to work. She had a lot on her mind and this was the only time she had alone to think.

"I've gotta go," Peach giggled, "We've gotta go, Sonny."

Carisi continued to hold on to his girlfriend with his face in her neck, kissing her. Chuckles escaped him a few times.

"Sonny, we're gonna be late. Don't you have court today?" She asked still giggling.

"I do but not for a couple hours and," he paused to bite her neck, "Hadid isn't gonna be in the office until later."

She groaned softly, "Mmm ... well I'm not that lucky, sir. Liv is gonna yell at me, not you, if I'm late. I don't wanna go either but I have to." Carisi finally pulled away pouting a little. She leaned up to kiss him. "I promise I'll try to get off at a decent time. And if I can get away for lunch, I'll come see you at your office."

"Promise?" He asked stealing another kiss.

"I promise, Sonny."

Finally letting her go, he stole one more kiss before grabbing his suit jacket. "Have a good day, BiBi. I love you."

Peach winked at him grabbing her car keys, "You bring home that W in court but either way I'm proud. I love you more, Dominick."

⚫⚫⚫⚫

"Well ... well ... well," Fin smiled turning in his chair and getting up, "Never thought I'd see Peter Stone back here. Good to see you."

Peter smiled accepting the hug. "Never planned on coming back but here we are."

Amanda came from their break room, a smile on her face when she saw him. She approached him, accepting his hug. "Peter, you're back? What are you doing here?"

"No, no," he chuckled, "Not back in the way you're thinking. But good to see you, Amanda."

Kat and Peach watched them talk and whispered amongst themselves.

"You know who that is, Kat?"

"Nope. No clue. Never seen em."

Peach hummed. "Maybe he was the old detective you replaced. They seem happy to see him."

"No, I replaced Carisi."

"Then who did I replace? I thought I replaced him."

Kat chuckled softly, "No. You technically didn't replace anybody, we were just short."

Fin realized he hadn't introduced Peter to the other women and politely interrupted Amanda's questions. He knew she wouldn't have realized until she talked Peter's ears off.

"Oh, Peter, we got two new detectives since you left. That's Kat and that's Peach." Fin explained pointing, "Ladies, this is our old ADA that Carisi replaced, Peter Stone."

Both ladies stood, smiling politely.

Kat stuck her hand out, "Nice to meet you, Peter."

Peter nodded shaking her hand. "Same here." He paused as he looked over at Peach taking her outstretched hand. "Certainly keeping some beautiful woman around. That why you're still here, Fin? Nice to meet you ... Peach is it?"

Peach nodded shaking his hand, she could tell he was flirting with her but didn't exactly know what to do about it in front of Amanda.

"Yes, it's Peach."

Fin looked between them chuckling. "I'm a taken man but they are pretty entertaining."

"Entertaining, you say? Interesting. Thank God I don't work in the DA's office anymore."

"Why is that?" Peach asked slowly sliding her hand away from his.

"Because I'd have to ask such a beautiful lady that should be seen by everyone to a private dinner."

"Lucky for you, Peter. Peach is available." Amanda added with a smile.

With her starting to be unsure about some things, Amanda felt as though Peach being distracted with Peter would be a good thing depending on what she decides. All her options are free.

Fin laughed. "This guy, he works fast. It's from his days playing in the league."

Thankfully, Carisi walked into the squad interrupting them. He had missed Peter's interaction with his girlfriend so the smile remained on his face.

"Stone," he called out happily shaking hands with him, "Haven't seen you in years."

Peter chuckled. "Planned on it being a few more. How's the job treating you? Ready to run away yet?"

"At times but I'm handling it." He shrugged playfully.

Hearing all the commotion, Olivia exited her office praying Amanda and Peach weren't arguing again. At this point, she was going to call Garland herself and tell him the pairing was off. Her frown turned into a smile seeing Stone, she pulled her glasses off as she approached them.

"So you do remember us?" She joked hugging him.

"On the occasion. How are you, Liv? How's Noah?"

"I'm good. He's great," she nodded. "How are you? What made you stop in?"

Peter chuckled glancing at Peach, who was trying to avoid looking at him and Carisi, then back at Olivia. "I came to get your help with something but then I stumbled upon this beautiful woman you've apparently been hiding."

Olivia and Carisi both frown a little, the latter runs his hands through his hair to play it off.

"Hiding? You mean Kat?" Olivia asked chuckling.

Kat held her hand up smiling, "Not me, Cap. Our resident fruit."

Olivia thought for a second then looked at Peach and nodded slowly. "I'm not hiding anyone, Peter but I keep them all very, very busy with work. Which she and everyone else should be doing. You can come to my office so we can discuss what you need help with. Carisi, you come too."

Frowning, Carisi followed them to her office throwing a glance in Peach's direction. She shrugged back not really knowing what to do besides go back to her desk. When she did, she sent him a quick text to let him know what happened. As she was texting, Amanda stopped by her desk smiling.

"Yes, Amanda?"

"Don't 'yes, Amanda' me. What do you think? You should go to dinner with him." She encouraged happily.

Peach shook her head. "We can barely get out of here in enough time to have dinner at home let alone getting dressed and going out. Plus my niece usually wants to talk at night."

"One of these days we'll get out at a good time and go then. I'm sure your niece would understand. He's a good catch, Peach."

Peach raised a brow, "I know we've been getting along and everything but this is weird. Why are you so for me going out with him? Who by the way I don't know."

She shrugged. "Just like you were for me being happy getting me with Hasim, I want you to be happy too. Go, you never go out."

"Uhuh," Peach nodded, "I'll think, Amanda."

Fin decided to step in. "Take your time, Peach. There's no rush to go out."

"Says the person with a fiancé." Amanda laughed going back to her desk.

"Well as her best friend, I agree with Fin. Don't rush into anything right now, you've already got a lot going on," Kat added more to end the conversation than to actually offer advice.

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia, Carisi and Peter were coming out of her office still talking amongst themselves. Olivia let Peter know that they would look into the information and what he needed help with them get back to him. He thanked and hugged her then shook Carisi's hand before turning to leave. He stopped at Peach's desk sliding the pen from her hand making her look up.

"Uuh... that's my pen," she smiled nervously.

Peter offered her a smiled. "I know and this is your notepad," he chuckled sliding it closer to him and started to write on it, "This is my number, call me when you've decided on a day for our dinner. Don't make me wait too long, beautiful."

With that, he left the squad. Olivia turned Carisi to face her and gave him a quick pep talk. He knew Peach wouldn't call him but that didn't mean he liked seeing Peter flirt with her. He got a quick pep talk from his mama bear before leaving. He sent his girlfriend a quick wink and smile.

⚫⚫⚫⚫

Unable to get out for lunch, Peach was able to get off at a decent time. She knew her boyfriend would be at the office a little longer since court didn't go the way he wanted. She stopped to pick up the Chinese food he liked before heading to his office. On the way she called a few times, receiving no answer which wasn't surprising to her either.

She concealed the food in her bag before going inside. His secretary was away from her desk so she went straight to his office. A smile on her face, she walked through the door.

"I called but," her voice got caught in her throat seeing him and Amanda kissing.

Carisi pushed Amanda away from him gently but firmly wiping his hand across his mouth. He glared at Amanda before turning to his girlfriend a fearful look on his face.

"B ... Peach ... I," he started seeing the look on her face. His words caught in his throat, he wanted to explain himself but not in front of Amanda.

Amanda raked her hand through her hair. "What ... what are you doing here, Peach?"

Her eyes darted between the two of them, willing herself not to cry in that moment.

"I ... Came to get some papers but ... I see it was a bad time."

She turned to leave ignoring them both calling for her. Making it to her car, she got in and locked her doors. She'd never been more appreciative of the tint on her windows that shielded her tears from the outside world. Knowing her boyfriend the way she did, she knew she only had a five maybe ten minute head start to get to his house and pack something before he got there.

"Amanda, what the hell was that? What are you doing?"

Amanda shrugged attempting to be innocent. "I ... I don't know what happened. You were talking and ... it just happened, Sonny."

His frown deepened, blue eyes blazing with anger. "It just happened? Bull! That's bull. You and Hasim, who by the way happens to be my friend, are together. You don't just do things like that. I'm gonna ask again," he paused starting to seethe, "What was that?"

"Jesus, calm down, Sonny. It was just a harmless kiss, it was a mistake, okay?"

Carisi pointed his finger at her, "It's not just harmless, Amanda! It's not! You're doing that self sabotage thing again and I don't want any parts of it. You're pretty good at doing it on your own without me. I need to get out of here."

Taking one last glance at her, Carisi grabbed his suit jacket, keys and bag leaving his office in a huff. Amanda watched him leave working silently through her thoughts. She didn't think things would go this way and she damn sure didn't expect Peach to walk through the door. She groaned to herself.

"I gotta get to Peach," she mumbled out loud.

Knowing his girlfriend wouldn't answer, Carisi called Olivia. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove and waited on her to answer. This wasn't anywhere close to how he saw his day going.

"Carisi, hey. Didn't expect to hear from you." She chuckled until she realized he didn't respond to her. "Sonny ... you still there?"

"Ye....yeah. Yeah I'm here, Cap."

Olivia stepped away from her son, "What's going on? If you're worried about court, don't. He won't be able to evade his day in court forever."

"No, 's not that. Things are messed up and ... and," he paused to honk his horn repeatedly, "And these people won't move outta my way!"

"Hey, hey ... calm down. Tell me what's messed up, what's going on?"

"Amanda came to my office said she was checking on me after what happened in court. She was getting ready to leave and I was gonna walk her to the door," he paused to groan and lay on his horn, "Then she kissed me. Before I could push her off, Peach walked in and I couldn't say anything. I couldn't get the words out."

"Wait ... wait .... Amanda kissed you?" She asked confused.

"Yes, she kissed me. I asked her why she did it and she gave some lame excuse about it being a harmless mistake."

"Bull," Olivia scoffed.

Carisi snorted.

"Yeah. Same thing I said to her."

"What else did you say to her?"

"Told her it was bull and that I didn't want any parts of her self sabotage."

Olivia sighed. She could tell Amanda had been off for a while but couldn't figure out what it was. But now she knew and understood ... things were going good and Amanda was being pessimistic, messing things up before anyone else could.

"Where are you now?"

Carisi sighed, "Trying to get to my house before BiBi leaves but this traffic."

"You think she'll leave?" She asked genuinely concerned.

"Cap, you know BiBi just like I do ... she's gonna leave. And if she leaves I won't be able to explain this to her."

"You're right. But listen even if you don't make it on time before she leaves you know there's only two places she could go," Olivia reasoned softly, "Kat's or Nick's. And even still just give her some time."

Carisi huffed changing lanes. "I don't wanna lose her. I can't lose her. It's like Amanda knows and she did that on purpose."

"Don't even think about that right, just concentrate on driving home. Call me if anything happens. Okay, Sonny?"

⚫⚫⚫⚫

Just as Peach was exiting the neighborhood, she saw her boyfriend turning in. He was unable to make a u-turn so he honked his horn repeatedly trying to get her to pull over or come back to no avail. She kept driving constantly declining calls until she saw Amanda's name.

"Yes, Amanda?"

A sigh came through her speakers.

"Listen, I just called to ask you not to tell Hasim. Please."

Peach chuckled, "Oh I'm not because you're gonna tell him."

"What? No. It'll cause trouble for no reason. It was an accident."

Her chuckle became full out laughter. "An accident? Right, Amanda. Two people kissing is not an accident."

"Carisi and I have history that you wouldn't understand, it was harmless and an accident," she explained. "No need to bring it up again."

Feeling her anger start to rise again, Peach decided to end the call there was nothing more to say to her. She thought that having her with Hasim would not only occupy her but make her happy and obviously she was wrong. Amanda wanted everything and everybody to herself and until someone did something about it, it wouldn't stop.

⚫⚫⚫⚫

Hearing knocks at his door, Nick made his way to it. He smiled seeing his best friend on the other side and invited her in. He greeted her with a hug then took her bag from her.

"A sleepover, I suppose? You and Zara in cahoots again?" He laughed.

Peach shook her head, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "I just need to stay here for tonight. Please."

The crack in her voice made him toss her bag aside and hug her tight. "It's alright, it's okay. What's going on? Why are we crying?"

She cried softly into his chest. "I'm so mad at him. I'm so, so, so mad at him. And I wanna hit her."

Nick thought for a moment. "Carisi and Amanda. What happened?"

A couple of hours later, Peach was asleep in the guest room after crying and venting her emotions to Nick. He left her, thankful she'd finally gotten to sleep from all the crying.

The doorbell going off made him rush to the door before it could wake her. He pulled the door open, a blank expression on his face.

"Yeah, Carisi?"

"I know BiBi is here. Can I come in and see her? I just wanna talk to her."

"I don't think she wants to talk to you. She'll let you know when she wants to talk."

Carisi sighed. "Look, I know she's pissed at me but I need to explain this to her. If she wants me to leave then I will but I want her to tell me."

Nick chuckled, "She sleeping, she cried herself to sleep but I'm sure if she was awake she'd tell you to leave. Just give her time."

"Nick ... come on man. Please."

"No," he shook his head, "Even if I did let you in here, she's asleep, Carisi. Just go back home or wherever, you're not seeing her tonight. Maybe another day.

At that, Nick closed his door, leaving Carisi out on his stoop alone. He groaned loudly staring up at the sky then jogged down the steps going back to his SUV. He racked his brain trying to figure out what he could do that didn't involve telling their secret to get resolve. He couldn't call either of their parents because that was a chewing out that wouldn't help any of this.

"Monica," he said out loud picking his phone up to dial her number.

[the-fiction-witch]

Urges P1

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT

COUPLE BENNY WATTS X READER

RATING SMUT

I gently hummed my little tune as I locked up my front door going down the steps to the dusty new york streets. I turned on the railing heading down the steps to the lower apartment. Then down some stairs again until I reached the basement apartment door unlocking it with my key and heading inside out the cold even if it wasn't much warmer in here. Shutting the door with my hip and locking it behind me absentmindedly moving my keys from the door to the hook on the wall, heading down the little steps hanging my coat and such up too heading to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee but just as it was boiling.

"Y/n?" I heard behind me making me jump out of my skin putting a hand to my chest in shock as I almost screamed turning on my heels to face the bedroom door.

It was open and leant on the frame of the door stood a familiar skinny figure. Barefoot and bare chested with a tight pair of jeans and his floral robe over his shoulders, a cup of coffee in his hand, his hair a matted mess that made it look as if he just this moment woke up his eyes barely open and yet a smirk on his lips as his other hand fiddled with his facial hair where it must have been annoying him as he clearly hasn't shaved in a few days and it was getting beyond the length he liked it to be and would no doubt deal with it later, his chains hung loosely against his bare skin, his other jewelry sat on him too comfortably ad he pretty much slept in it all at this point and likely barely noticed it was there at all  "Morning"

"Benny! You scared me" I complained 

"Says the girl who just broke into my fucking house"

"I have a key"

"Yes but one usually knocks first babydoll"

"Don't call me that Benny" I sighed returning to making coffee 

"Why not? You are my little babydoll aren't you?" He smirked coming to lean his arm on the counter beside me I tried to ignore him and tried not to look even if I wanted to look at him "your cute when your trying not to look" he smirked kissing my cheek and going off to do something else 

"I didn't know you where home"

"Course you didn't"

"I didn't, I'll go you don't need me" I began but before I could even move

"Y/n, of course I do come on. You clean when I'm here all the time you're literally the only person who cleans anything in this place" he laughs "sorry, I'll stop bothering you" he says sitting at his table looking at his chess board I nodded having my coffee and starting to work.

I only lived upstairs from Benny and we had gotten very used to each other, and during a time I was out of work he suggested that I could look after his place when he wasn't around and he'd slide me a little money for doing it. I always looked after his place while he went away even once I got another job, it wasn't much just checking nothing goes gross in his fridge, making sure the laundry gets done, making sure knowone breaks in, eventually thought it changed into me basically being his cleaner and I come in ever so often when he's not here and clean up for him and of course sometimes when he is here. I didn't mind it, it was something to do. 

As I stood cleaning the kitchen scrubbing the sink and countertop I felt the burn of eyes on me making me turn and see Benny sat his elbow on the table, his hand under his chin, his fingers across his cheek, his eyes squarely on me and my hemline. 

"Yes?" I asked 

"Nothing" he answered

"What are you looking at?" I asked as I worked 

"At you"

"Why? What are you looking at me for?"

"I like to watch you work" he shrugs smiling a little at me 

"It's not all that interesting" I smiled "if it was you'd do it and then I wouldn't have a job" I laughed

"Touche babydoll"

"Benny I hear you call me that again I'm throwing this sponge at your head" I warn 

"Babydoll" he smirked milking every Letter of the word I could heard the smirk on his voice on each syllabus and he smirked gently biting on his bottom lip as he finished the word and I didn't move "I knew you wouldn't"

"Your infuriating sometimes" I sighed 

"Only sometimes?" He asked "I rather thought you found me infuriating all the time?"

"Not all the time, sometimes you can be quite lovely" I explain as I finished my cleaning in the kitchen and began sweeping the floor 

"Aww your lovely sometimes too" 

"Aren't I lovely all the time?"

"Sometimes… your other things"

"Such as?"

"Sometimes you're lovely, others you're fascinating. Sometimes your… desirable"

"Ohh am I now Benny?"

"I think so" he says I ignored him and continued my work sweeping the floor and doing the other jobs I usually did for him until I began packing my cleaning stuff away again "y/n?" He spoke up grabbing my wrist so his hand was so smooth and strong he wasn't an inch from me so much I could feel the heat or his exposed skin "would you… stay? And do another little job for me?"

"Well what is it?" I asked straightening myself up a little and trying to put space between us 

"Would you stay and do something with me?"

"What are you talking about Benny? What do you mean?" I asked 

"I mean" he smirked moving closer so my chest was against his own Whispering in my ear in his hushed deep voice in the same way he had spoken earlier milking every word every syllable a lustful sound to the sentence "stay and be my little babydoll?"

I was confused but by the look on his face I knew what he wanted

"Benny!" I said in shock backing away however I backed tight against the kitchen counter so I had no escape from him 

"Aww what's wrong?" He smirked, grabbing my waist, his hands on my waist, his things rubbing on my hips "don't you want me?" He growled 

"Benny I uhh I umm-" I stutter no words arriving at my brain too focused on what he was saying in what he was doing and mostly the fact I had a half naked Benny watts pressed against me it was enough to make anyone nervous never mind what he was asking of me. 

"Because I want you"

"You- you what?' I stutter

"I want you" he growled "I want you so badly babydoll." He smirked before I could even breath he moved his hips against my own pressing his hard erection against my leg 

"Uhh Benny!" I gasped in shock feeling him grind against me he smirked pressing a trail of open mouth kisses from my shoulder to below my ear 

"I want you y/n, so badly my pretty little babydoll, I want you, I need you," he groaned into my ear 

"Benny I uhh I uh I have to go' I said pushing him off me completely and running to the door grabbing my things and leaving before he could even get out a word 

"Y/n! Y/n come on! I'm sorry!" He yelled trying to come after me but I just ran upstairs and locked myself in my apartment leaning in the closed door and gasping for breath, my body shaking and my heart throbbing out of my chest. 

I laid on my little bed staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep, unable to stop thinking about earlier. Everything that happened, everything he said, did he mean it? That he wanted me… that he needed me. He couldn't have. It must have been a joke like that. Benny's called me babydoll forever even if I didn't like it mostly I think just to get on my nerves. He couldn't have meant it, this is Benny watts he has girls throwing themselves at him especially when he's away. Why would a handsome, smart well known chess champion like Benny be interested in me?

I snuck out of my bed fixing my little nightie a little slipping on my robe and my slippers checking the time, it was eleven forty. I climbed out of bed and went to the front door of my apartment I don't know what I was doing but I didn't stop myself as I unlocked my door locking it again as soon as I was outside hurrying quicker then I ever had before down to benny's apartment trying not to get drenched by the rain I opened the door with my key as quickly and quietly as I could closing it again without making a sound. The apartment was dark almost pitch black the only light the orange hue on the living area from the frosted glass window of Benny's bedroom and beam of harsher light coming from the door that was open a little shining brightly across the room. The light in his room was on, and I heard sounds that led me to believe he was awake. 

"Uuummm… uuuuummmm… uuuh!" I heard gasps and groans almost like he was in pain for a moment I was worried Incase he was hurt but I heard another sound like clicking I listened closer slipping off my slippers and my robe hanging it in the metal poles by the door steps stepping as quietly as I could towards the wall that separates his bedroom from the rest of his studio apartment the clacking sounded like… kissing. I froze thinking he had someone over with him but "uumm y/n" he groaned between the kisses I froze pushing my body against the ice cold concrete wall unsure of what I was hearing "uuuhh!! Please please…"

I was interested I couldn't stop my feet slowly and silently moving so I stood my back leant against the concrete wall my hand on my mouth to muffle my breath, I knew I should go, I knew this was wrong but I couldn't stop listening

"Uuummm… uuh! Ughh! Y/n, y/n… please." He groans "please, I need you babydoll" he almost whined "I need you so badly, please… just uumm just something, just touch me, uughhh!" He moaned rather loudly I'm surprised I couldn't hear him upstairs in my apartment "uuummm… those perfect lips, those beautiful eyes, uumm that seductive skin, uhh!! That plump little body, uhhh! I need her! I need her!" He almost screamed "please, please kiss me, touch me, uummmm fuck me" he groaned "uuummm y/n please I need you babydoll" I moved slightly trying desperately not to be caught, convinced I was dreaming this couldn't be real it couldn't. I peaked around the open door, my view slightly abstracted as the door was hinged this side, the frosted glass revealing a little more of what was inside then what I could already see.

Benny watts laid in his bed his head against the pillow, his hair out of place and matted, his skin glowing in the warm orange light, his chains gone his chest completely exposed a shine of sweat across his skin, his eyes closed and his mouth hung open in pleasure one hand grasped at his pillow the other on his mattress and sheets gripped like a tallon to the sheets in desperation, my eyes lingered on his jaw sliding down his slender neck, across his skinny but strong chest down his stomach the hint of his V before the covers concealed it from my eyes "uuhh! Babydoll… please, I need you" he whines, grinding his desperate hips against his covers. I moved trying to see more but I knocked the door making it move so I hid myself away against the concrete as the door moved and a tiny creek echoed across the apartment. There was silence. 

"... Has a little girl come to forgive me? Did she not expect to see me this way? Can she see how badly I need her now" he groaned. I kept quiet, not wanting him to know I was here and spying on him "uuhh! Your so beautiful, so gorgeous, I've felt this way for so long" he groaned "since you moved in babydoll" he smirked "I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you, I can't take it anymore, you have no idea how much strength it takes me when I see you not to…. Ummmm, rip that dress off you, or drag you to bed with me, or bend you over and fuck you senceless. But it got so bad that…" he began "I Can't do it anymore…"

I froze, confused about what he was talking about.

"I was touching so much, thinking of my sweet babydoll that… I broke myself" he explained "I can grind and I can try to… touch myself but if I do. I can't cum." He explained I felt bad that sounded so horrible makes sense why he did what he did "well… I can but it doesn't feel good. I just feel more frustrated. More frustrated it's not my babydoll touching me" he groans "even if I do try and cum, I can't cum without…. Uhh! Thinking about you." He moans grinding harder "even with… other girls" he smirked "uumm I've tried so many times, but I can't finish unless I imagine you, I have to bite my mouth with other girls because if I don't I'll just scream out for you babydoll" he explained "I've never been so desperate in my life, your all I can think about, I haven't gotten release in a two weeks, I haven't felt satisfied in a year. Please…. I need you," he begged "I'm not mad at you, for looking. Or for sneaking in. Please, if you're their babydoll. I need you, I want you so badly," he groans his hand moving from his sheets under them slowly moving "uughhh! Please, kiss me, suck me, ride me, fuck me, give me hand, give me head I don't care just… Touch me! Please babydoll please!" 

I hid myself away again unsure if I could watch this, a part of me wanted to and yet another part of me was so ashamed of looking. I could hear his moans and groans getting louder the closer he got but they always stopped suddenly for some reason

"Uummmm uuummm uuhh uuuuuh! Urrgh-"

"Uuhh! Uuhh! Uuuuuummm babydoll! urrghhh!-" 

Like everytime he got close he was stopping himself or maybe he wasn't lying maybe he really couldn't do it without me 

"Uuh fuck! Not even my imaginations enough tonight, maybe I broke that too" he groans "please babydoll, just… let me see you" he said making my body freeze "just for a moment my sweet babydoll, just… just let me look at you. just for a moment, just let me see you y/n" he begs "just one look. Nothing else I promise. I just need to see you, I need something. Anything! Just let me look at you, just till I cum that's all I ask my beautiful babydoll" he pleads I stood a moment thinking as I looked into the room but his eyes were on the door and he smiled even if I was mostly hidden away " I knew you were there. Please… just come out, I'm not mad, just let me see you" I shook my head and hid away again as I was before "no? Why not? Please I need to see you, why are you so shy? I mean… you've been looking at me haven't you babydoll? Don't I get a look too? As I'm so... desperate" I didn't answer Unsure what to say or what to do "say something then… please, if you won't touch me, and you won't let me see you then… just say something, anything, let me… ummm hear your beautiful voice I can imagine the rest just, let me hear you" he begs "please I need you!" He screamed 

"I'm sorry Benny" I answered before running as quickly as I could back to my own apartment.

[ficsbynani]

Chasing Delilah (1)

Chris Evans/OC

March 22, 2018

Atlanta, Ga

Honeylux Studios

"Thank you for filling in on such short notice. Kendra is sick and can't do it."

Delilah nodded fixing her hair in the mirror in front of her, she had heard the same thing from stuffy nosed Kendra when she called a couple hours earlier, so she didn't want to hear it again from their supervisor, Kelly. Doing the interview didn't bother her, the constant last minute changes was starting to annoy her.

"What is this interview for anyway?"

"It’s for endgame."

“Like Avengers? Marvel?”

Kelly stared at her and nodded slowly, “Yeah. What else would I be talking about, Delilah?"

Turning away from the mirror Delilah stared at her for a moment about to say something smart until she heard one of the assistants call her name. She approached the assistant accepting the cards she was handed. The assistant ran through how much time Delilah had for the interview, what to expect for the duration and all of her angles.

"Got it, honey. How much time do I have until they get here?"

"He was supposed to be here about 10 minutes ago but he's running a little late."

Delilah nodded. "And how long ago was that?"

The assistant looked at her watch and hummed, “About twenty minutes ago. He's probably stuck in traffic or coming from filming. He should be here soon."

"He's here now. I assume you two were waiting on me."

Both women looked away from each other toward the voice. Delilah walked towards him with a polite smile and her hand extended to him. "Glad you made it safely. Hope it wasn't too much trouble."

He shook her hand enthusiastically with a big, wide smile. "It was no problem at all. I'm sorry to have kept you ladies waiting like that on me. I'm usually pretty punctual."

"It's no problem, Mr. Evans, we didn't mind waiting."

Delilah shook her head a small smile on her face, "Speak for yourself, I did mind."

"Please call me Chris," he chuckled, “Well in that case, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting..." His voice trailed off waiting for her to tell him her name.

“Its Delilah, Chris."

 "Accept my apology, please, Miss Delilah."

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Delilah nodded at him with a polite smile. "I guess l accept your apology Chris. You ready for your interview or you need a little time to get yourself together?"

"No ma'am I'm ready to get down to it if you are." he replied smiling.

Both went to their respective seats, neither spoke as they were given last minute touch ups from hair and make up. Delilah was given some last minute information from Kelly just before the cameras started rolling.

Delilah put on her big, bright smile looking into her camera, “Welcome to Honeylux Backstage Pass, I'm Delilah Anderson. With us today we have Captain America himself, Chris Evans." She paused for him to speak to his camera. "I'm glad to have you here today."

His brows rose playfully, "Thank you for inviting me, Delilah. That's a great dress by the way. You look gorgeous."

"Thank you, I see you trying to match me, Chris."

A hearty laugh escaped him when he looked down at himself and back at her realizing that they were pretty much wearing the same shade of brown. "So that was you I saw peeking in my bedroom window this morning."

Delilah smirked, “Oh, Chris, if I'm going through all that to peek in your window, I’d go all the way and climb right in."

A light blush rose across his cheeks that he tried to conceal by wiping his hand over his mouth and beard. "Noted, duly noted."

Delilah laughed, glancing down at her cards. "Since I've gotten you all the way here, tell me what you've been up to."

"As you know I'm here in Atlanta filming Endgame. And that's why I was a little late today, we got a little behind in our schedule."

"A little late? " She asked, chuckling. “Since you brought it up, you were not a little late, you were a lot late. You didn't want to come see me and Honeylux, Chris? I'm hurt.”

Chris laughed again, starting to get a little flustered, unable to hide the blush that creeped into his cheeks. "No, that's not it. I wouldn't do you like that, Delilah.”

“You wouldn't do me like that," she repeated playfully, “Then how would you do me, Chris?" They held each other's stare for a few moments before Chris broke and looked away rubbing his hands over his clothed thighs trying to dry his sweating palms "Chris, what do you like to do when you're not filming? I know that you've pretty much been in Atlanta on and off for the last two almost three years."

"I really don't do much. I go to a good restaurant every now and then, go to the gym and go home."

"Come on, Chris. I know you do more than that. You don't seem like a homebody to me. In fact a little birdie told us that you're a bit of a night owl."

"I... Who told you that? Was it RDJ?” he laughed. 

Delilah laughed giving him a playful innocent shrug, "I can't reveal my sources. "So let's try this again, what does Chris Evans do when he's not filming?"

"When I'm not filming I may, possibly go out to a bar or two or have a little party or go to a party."

An hour later, they wrapped their interview and Chris left her with a promise to not be late next time and a big hug. Delilah avoided her boss knowing that she wanted to talk about the flirtatious parts during the interview. If they were gonna make her do that interview last minute then she was going to do it her way. 

---

"Here you go. A strawberry lemonade vodka."

Delilah look up from her phone frowning, "I didn't order this. You can take it back."

"Its from a gentleman in the booth across from you. He asked me to bring it." The waitress discreetly nodded her head in the direction. "Trust me, you wanna take it."

She looked around the waitress spotting the patron who sent it and slid out of her booth. "I'm gonna move over there. You can send my food there." Not waiting for a response, Delilah grabbed her drink and crossed the bar sliding into the empty side of the booth. "An apology drink?"

"That depends. Are you accepting?"

"Hmmm … I accept but this doesn't completely make up for it."

Chris laughed, his hand going to his left pec, "This is not gonna be easy, I see. So what are you doing here? Alone at that?"

"I'm here to get my fried pickles." 

"And why are you alone?" 

"Hmm … maybe you should've been a journalist. You're pushing that question of yours," she responded taking a sip of her drink.

He shrugged, turning his baseball cap backwards. "Learned from the best I guess."

Shaking her head, Delilah stirred her drink around with her straw. "You didn't. If you had then you would've known why I was here alone before you asked the question."

"Okay, you got me there. Can I have an answer?"

"I'm alone because I'm always alone, Chris. I hope that answers your question."

"So since you're alone and always alone you wouldn't have a reason to turn down an offer to go to a more comfortable place."

"Comfortable place like," she drug out staring at him, "your place?"

Chris returned her stare, feeling sure of himself in the moment. Mentally applauding himself for not blushing the way he did during the interview. "My place. It's a few minutes down the street. You keep pulling on the sleeves of your sweater so I assume that you're cold in here, its an unusually chilly evening and my place just happens to be pretty warm. Got a fireplace."

Delilah smirked looking away for a moment, "Observant. Tryna get me to your place using your fireplace. Smart."

"Thank you. So you'll have your pickles and drink and then we'll go try out this fireplace. It's a date."

"I guess so then. But what are you gonna have?"

Chris peered over at her from the top of his glass as he drank from it. Once she returned his eye contact, he winked at her. 

---

The pair enjoyed their drinks, food and conversation with no interruptions. Chris' cute family stories and funny stories from set had their flirtation a bit forgotten by Delilah. Their conversation became animated a few times leading to one or the other reaching out for small, innocent touches every now and then. Their playful banter continued on their walk to his condo. 

He spoke politely to the men coming out of the building as he and Delilah entered. Their conversation ceased on the elevator ride up. Chris whistled softly to fill the silence until the elevator pinged on the 20th floor. 

"Ladies first," Chris offered playfully. 

Delilah walked out in front of him, tucking her clutch under her left arm. She looked down between them when she felt him hook her pinky with his then at him laughing at the smile on his face. 

"Don't want you to get lost or anything. It's a pretty long hallway." He kept her pinky hooked tight until he let them into his condo. She stood in her spot looking around as soon as he cut the lights on, she could hear him locking the door. "This is my temporary home. Not bad right?"

She shook her head slowly, "Not bad at all, Chris. Now where's this fireplace?"

Chris shrugged off his jacket and took off his hat sitting them on the stand beside them. He put his hand the the small of her back giving her a gentle push. "Let me give you a tour. I'll make the fireplace our last stop."

Chris stood with his hand on the doorknob of the last room he needed to show her. "What do you think so far?"

"It's nice. I could almost buy you being a homebody when you have downtime," she joked, "Almost. But I like it. The floor to ceiling windows and that shower are definitely being added to my wishlist."

"You like the shower? Well if you're nice, I'll let you use it." He joked opening the last door. "And the reason you're here, lounge room. Or if you'd like the fireplace room."

Laughing, Delilah walked into the room and tossed her clutch onto the sofa. Her eyes lit up a bit when it lit up. She assumed he did it from behind her with a remote. "Fireplace room, I like it, we'll call it that."

Standing behind her, Chris put an arm loosely around her neck pulling her closer to him sending a chill through her. "Cold still?" He asked in her ear.

"Uuuh," she hummed biting down on her lip, "You could say that."

"I can warm you up, if you want." He spoke in a low tone moving his other hand to her waist, gripping it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Had he not been so close to hear and felt the vibrations from her body as she spoke, he wouldn't have heard her answer. Releasing his hold on her, Chris pulled his shirt over his head then removed his shoes and socks. He approached her again, this time kneeling in front of her undoing the clasp on her right heel then the left and tossed them aside. His hands traveled slowly up the outside of her legs, from her ankle to her thighs, disappearing under her dress. 

His hands went to her panties, slowly pulling the thin straps down her hips from under her sweater. She braced herself on his shoulders stepping out of the thin fabric. Drawing back a bit, he pushed her sweater up above her navel holding it there looking directly at her pussy. Delilah pulled the sweater off, tossing it into the sofa on top of her clutch. 

Chris caressed her thighs, her back arched slightly, and his hand moved from her thigh towards my quivering center. Using his other hand, Chris put her right leg over her shoulder pulling her closer. Gently he parted her lips and ran the palm of his hand against her clit, stoking Delilah's inner fires. A soft chuckle escaped him when her body jerked in response, followed by a deep guttural groan. His head lowered a bit moving in closer, deeply inhaling her scent. Then leaned closer and started to lick at her wetness, from bottom to top, the long smooth strokes, making her knees buckle prompting him to hold her up as he worked. Giving only hums in response to her moans, her groans and her whimpering. 

He sucked on her clit, and swirling his tongue around it at the same time, pushing her to the brink repeatedly. Her hips bucked against his face, lifting and rolling in an instinctive rhythm. Chris followed Delilah relentlessly, devouring her and then slid one finger deep inside her, following with another. They slid in and out while Chris focused his attention on her clit. Delilah could feel herself slowly building as the flames were in the fireplace were. 

Chris double his efforts, feeling her push his face into her center.  Delilah's body locked, becoming rigid as the convulsions hit me, staggering in their intensity. She came crashing down as the flames started to crackle a bit louder. 

She cried out loudly as her stomach muscles clenched and tightened. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks and Chris stayed there slurping and sucking as the aftershocks faded slowly away from her. Pulling away, Chris started to plant slow kisses up to her stomach, looking wickedly up at Delilah.

"Warmed up?" He asked standing to his full height licking remnants of her from his lips. 

"Very. Helluva first kiss."

Closing the small gap between them, Chris lowered his head capturing her full lips in a kiss. His hands instinctively went to her ass, grabbing and massaging it while her hands rubbed up his chest meeting at the back of his neck both deepening the kiss.

"How was the second one?" His words were a soft whisper against her lips.

"Just as good as the first."

Chris grabbed her hands and kissed her palms then placed them on his belt. "You mind giving me a hand with that?"

An audible groan passed Delilah's lips as she tugged his belt open. Her eyes met his, silently asking him for permission to unbutton his jeans, smiling when he ever so slightly nodded. Delilah had them open and down in seconds, her hands went to grab him. Chuckling, he stepped out his jeans putting his hands on top of her easing them off. He pulled her in front of the sofa and turned her around, her back facing him. 

"You remember what you said to me during the interview,  Delilah?" 

Delilah paused to think. "I said a lot to you."

"You said that I didn't want to come see you. Ring a bell?" 

"Yeah, I remember."

Chris caressed her sides, "Put your knees up on the sofa and grab the back. And I said I wouldn't do you like that. What was your response to that?"

Delilah did as she was told, looking over her shoulder at him. "I asked how would you do me."

Leaned down to kiss her lower back, using his tongue to trail up her spine to her neck. Her back arching in response, curses falling from her lips as she tilted her head back. 

Chris gently pushed her hair away from her ear, nipping at the skin below it. "You asked me how I would do you. My answer," he bent his knees a little lining himself up with her entrance slowly pushing inside her, "Like this. Hold on, beautiful."

He moved slowly at first, standing back up straight and placed a hand on her back keeping it arched. He gave her just a little. Not going all the way in, and pulling back out. 

He teased her this way a few times, until she started begging him to give it all to her. In that moment all she wanted was for him to bury his dick inside inside her. He smirked moving his hand to her shoulder and thrust his dick deep inside her. Delilah moaned loudly and gripped the sofa right as he pulled back and thrust again. Slow, long, hard thrust, in and out. In and out. 

Chris started moving faster acknowledging he desires she was moaning out to him.  Him burying his shaft deep inside of her wasn't enough. She started moaning, begging for more, faster, harder. She wanted all of him. He picked up the pace, moving faster, careful not to disturb her curls. He wet a finger and reached around to stimulate her clit while plunging deep inside of her.  Chris felt her start to squeeze him and his smirk grew into a wide grin. He thrusts hard and fast, until she screams for mercy, cumming again. He was more than pleased with himself to have brought her to a second orgasm. 

Chris eased himself out of her watching her head drop and slowly start to catch her breath. "Turn around and sit down," He instructed gently. Delilah turned slowly, now eye to eye with his dick and her mouth started to water. "Can I touch your hair?" 

"Yes, Chris. It's already sweated out," she joked softly. 

A chuckle escaped him, one hand went to the back of her head urging her closer and the other brought his dick to her lips tapping for her to open which she did. 

She sucked him the same way he had just fucked her. Hard and fast. Careful not to hurt her, Chris gripped Delilah's hair, holding her in place. He paused for a second to firmly plant his feet before thrusting into her face. Strings of curses and groans came from him feeling her stroke and massage his balls with his nails as he fucked her face. He groaned louder, telling her that he was about to cum. Delilah braced herself just as he exploded, filling her mouth with his seed. Delilah swallowed every drop and slowly licked his dick clean as he released his hold on her and pulled out.

---

Waking up warm, Delilah felt an arm around her waist and slowly opened her eyes. The events of the night before all coming back to her. A great night that she wasn't sure what it meant, her body was sore beyond belief but she was satisfied. Her mind and body was conflicting with her. She enjoyed herself but she didn't know what to say to him. Maybe it was a one night thing, a good end to a heavily flirtatious day. 

Easing his arm off of her, Delilah crept out of the bed putting a pillow in her place. She limped around the room looking for her clothes for five minutes until it hit her.

"Fireplace room, duh," she whispered limping out of his bedroom. 

Dressed aside from her panties that she couldn't find, Delilah rushed as fast and quietly as she could out of his condo. She fought hard against herself on the elevator ride down to the lobby to keep herself from going back up to his place and starting again. 

She decided against sitting in the lobby while she waited on her Uber and stood outside. Texts from Kelly about other interviews she had lined up came through momentarily taking Delilah's attention from the man she'd just left. But nothing could take her attention from the ache at the apex of her thighs.

[donatello-writes]

TMNT x Reader - The Best Part of Waking up...

...Is food shenanigans with your turtle bae!

I wanted to put together small scenes of what it would be like waking up to your favorite turtle after spending the night with them. Enjoy! 

Leo 

Shouts of profanity followed by clanging woke you from your slumber. Rolling over in the bed you grumbled to your partner only to find him absent. Getting out of bed and to your feet, you headed out into the main room. Suspecting the vulgar language was coming from the hot-headed terrapin who also inhabited the lair, you were shocked to find Leo instead. 

Peering at a bow on the counter, you saw charred remains of what was once granola already swimming in milk. The burst of laughter that came after was impossible to hold in. "Babe, how in the world did you manage to burn CEREAL?"

Shooting you a mock glare over his shoulder he answered, "The recipe said to lightly toast it."

"Okay, a few things...One...This isn't even close to lightly toasted..." grabbing the empty granola bag from the top of the garbage, you stifled further giggling as you continued with your thought,"And two...You don't have to do that if it's already pre-made!"

When he returned with a mere shrug, you rolled up your sleeves and insisted, "That's it, I'll take it from here." Proceeding to pick up the food making where your boyfriend had left off.

"No, I was supposed to do this for you!" He grumbled, trying to take the bowl back.

Running your fingers along his jaw you implored, "Fearless, will you just let me be the leader for once?" 

His electric blue eyes remained stern only for a few seconds before melting under your returned gaze. Taking your hand, he gave your palm a soft kiss and nodded. 

"Just this once."

Raph

Raphael shushed his little brother to stay quiet so as not to wake you as the two of them slowly destroyed the kitchen in their attempts to make food. Hearing the sound of you stirring in the distance, he quickly shoved Mikey out of sight. Not but a moment later, you emerged from the burly terrapin's room wearing one of his enormous red t-shirts. 

Rubbing your eyes sleepily, you murmured, "What's with all the ruckus, big red?"

He couldn't prevent the broad smile that crossed his lips. To see you in HIS shirt, hair still a mess, at this hour of the morning...He was in pure bliss. 

Snapping out of his fawning he replied, "Uuuh--er, I was jus' makin' ya some breakfast!" nervousness was apparent in his voice, and despite your grogginess, you didn't buy it. 

Giggling, you gawked and asked with sarcasm and surprise, "Whaaat? YOU...cooking?"

"Yeah, an' why's that so hard ta believe?" He retorted, brow furrowed, and arms crossed. 

"Raph, I've known you for a while now. You never cook...ever."

Striving to appear intimidating, he wrinkled his nose and curled his lip, but you were unfazed. All you did was smirk in response, foot tapping expectantly. After your silence became too much, the mountain of a turtle finally crumbled. He couldn't keep anything from you. 

"Okay, maybe Mikey helped a little..." when you placed both hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow, he finally caved. "Awright, awright! He did everything! However, I did squeeze the orange juice by hand."

Picking the glass up from the table, you took a sip. "Raphie, that's the best orange juice I've ever had."

With that, he pulled you into a bear hug, taking great care as to not squeeze too hard.

“You’re amazin’.”

Mikey

You woke the the scent of vanilla and buttery decadence. Flipping over in the bed was near impossible, and when you opened your eyes, you came to find the reason why. A full course meal was spread out across your bed sheets.

This particular assemblance of food was enough sugary sweet indulgence to make a glutton cry. French toast, drenched in maple syrup and topped with whipped cream and a strawberry, apple crumble over ice cream, cherry turnovers, cinnamon streusel coffee cake, blueberry muffins, homemade pastries. At the edge of your bed, Mikey sat with his legs criss-crossed, biting his lip and eagerly awaiting your reaction. 

Mouth agape, you gasped, "Sweetie, this is amazing."

That was all the affirmation he needed to fly from the bed and break into a victory dance. Eventually, he shimmied his way to your side. 

Wiping one of the many food smudges from his face, you gave it a taste... "Frosting?"

With a jovial guffaw he answered, "Yeah, it was for the pastries. I had to chase Donnie outta the kitchen a few times 'cause he kept eating it..." He then touched a hand to the spot where you'd wiped the food away and blushed. 

The food warmed you under the sheets, which begged the question, "When in the heck did you get up in order to make all of this?!"

He chuckled and waved off your inquiry, "Not important." 

Although he refused to give it, you knew the real answer: he woke up insanely early. "I'd hug you right now, but I think I'm stuck under this avalanche of food," You joked. "I'm going to need to eat my way out of here!" 

Face lighting up at your words, he clapped his hands excitedly, "Let's do this!"

Donnie

Grousing to yourself, you fiddled with the dials of the stove in the lair in the wee hours of the morning. The obstinate device refused to work with you as you attempted to prepare breakfast for your beau before he awoke. All of the sudden, muscular arms surrounded you from behind, three-pronged hands gently resting on your small ones. 

Lips brushed your ear to whisper, "Here, like this, love." He then turned the knob using your hand holding it for a few seconds. Several clicks sputtered from the appliance, and suddenly, a small flame burst to life from beneath the wired burner.

Whipping around, you met the gaze of your boyfriend. Hazel eyes burning like the brilliant aftermath of a supernova, and trained intently on you. "I'm so used to using an electric oven..." You told him, blushing at your admission.

Giving you a knowing smile, he bestowed a kiss on the top of your head and mumbled, "I know." His words difficult to hear with his face buried in your hair. "Mmm, you always smell so good." He mused. 

Tittering at his compliment, you replied, "What are you talking about? I haven't even taken a shower yet, you weirdo!" 

"My statement still stands." He asserted while nuzzling you softly.

Reluctantly, he released you from the loving embrace. He moved about the kitchen, slowly gathering everything needed to make omelettes. Cracking several eggs into a bowl, he vigorously whisked them, and then poured the mixture into the hot pan. In a flurry of chopping, various vegetable were diced and added. Meanwhile, you stood by, in awe.

Noticing your surprise, his smile widened. "Are you really that surprised? Food is a science, after all." following his factoid with a chuckle. 

"So, Mr. Ramsay. When will this fabulous meal be ready?" 

In the food celebrity's accent he proceeded to execute a flawless impression, "All in due time, good food cannot be rushed!" He exclaimed jokingly, backing you into the counter. Bodies pressed against one another, your lips touched with a kind of heat that would make the oven jealous. If you could begin every morning this way, life would be perfect.