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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #case file #case fic #x files fanfic

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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Hangang River Bride (OT7 x Hybrid!Reader): Story summary (chapters 1-5)

Pairing: OT7 x Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hybrid!AU, Future smut

Warnings: Mentions of myth & Folklore, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, so much Angst, Past Abuse, mentions of domestic violence, rough handling and not in the kinky way, I'm adding more as the story progresses, Cat hybrid Jimin, Dog Hybrid Taehyung, Human Jin & Namjoon, Cat hybrid Yoongi, Dog hybrid Hoseok, Fox hybrid reader, Wolf hybrid Jungkook

Summary:

(Originally posted by R0ADKiLL on AO3, taken over by me with her consent in July 2020.)

Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon- a married couple and well known Hybrid owners. While Seokjin helps Hybrids as a very respected lawyer, Kim Namjoon focuses on studying them to help the world understand better. Their Hybrids Jimin and Yoongi, two rescued cat hybrids from a shelter, were their first- now the house is full of booming life with Taehyung and Hoseok, the two dogs they had adopted soon after, and Jungkook, the newest addition. Saved by a rescue organisation and taken in by Namjoon partially for his studies and partially just to give him a loving home, they seem to be finally complete. Until they meet the girl at the Hangang bridge.

Or: Y/N tries to sneakily steal Jungkooks lamb skewers, and almost gets herself eaten.

Careful: A lot of writing under the cut. Mobile users with older phones should switch to a browser page since the app could crash. I'm speaking out of experience lol.

Kim Seokjin enjoyed the simple things in life. Such as the situation he was in right now; in the arms of his husband, sleeping in because they both finally got a day off for once. "Are you worried?" He asks his Partner, who seems oddly serious despite the comfortable silence surrounding them. He knows that Namjoon knows what he's talking about; for the first time in months, Jungkook, their most recent hybrid addition to their family, has gone out by himself with Taehyung, the almost hyperactive australian shepherd hybrid. Jungkook can't be left alone by himself outside their four walls due to safety laws; all because he is a predator hybrid. As a Wolf, together with his alpha-gene, he has to be accompanied by at least one other Person; hybrid or human. Namjoon found it odd at first, but getting to know more about predator hybrids made him understand the thought behind it. Even though Jungkook was one of the most well behaved and down to earth hybrids he'd ever met, there was still a small chance of him acting on impulse. And it wouldn't even be his fault. Maybe he shouldn't leave the house then, but Jin and he decided that he should have a bit of freedom as well; after all, he was partially a person as well. He deserved to make decisions and have some alone time- as alone as he could be. "They're gonna be fine. Taehyung will keep an eye on him." Jin spoke softly, placing a small kiss to the bare shoulder of his partner, who just nodded, before falling asleep again.

"I'm hungry Jungkookie, let's get something to eat. We can eat it over there!" Taehyung pointed excitedly to the park, while Jungkook just nodded. He didn't like to decide things; he never learned after all. This was all still pretty new to him, even though they had been living together for almost a full year. Growing up in a cage treated like a full blown animal does that to you, they said to him at the rescue center. He's slowly coming out of his shell though; thanks to Jin and Namjoon, and all the other hybrids he now considers his pack, he finally lets loose once in a while.

Grabbing some food, the both walk around the park for a bit, finding a perfect spot to eat. Jungkook always thought what it would be like to have Lunch with friends at this park, never thinking it could all eventually happen. "There you go. Do you need anything else?" Taehyung asked, but Jungkook smiled and denied. He had more than he could've ever asked for if he was being honest.

All while this happened, the two male hybrids chatting away actively, the small fox hybrid saw her chance to strike. Modern pet hybrids didn't hear her usually, and both of them seemed to be of the sorts- even though she could smell something weird on the black haired one. Her own snarling stomach however made her stop thinking, slowly inching forwards until her small hand was able to reach the white plastic bag with the rest of the food still packed for the other ones home- until the dark haired one whipped his head around.

It all happened so fast, the girl snatching the bag and running for her life- quite literally, because Jungkook completely ignored Taehyung shouting at him to stop and come back, his mind running on autopilot. She was stealing, from him, from his pack, and he had to get her. Deep in his brain he knew she probably didn't meant any harm, but his instincts did the thinking for now, his long legs easily catching up to her much smaller form. Grabbing the straps of her honestly pretty torn dress, he yanked her backwards, making her fall on the ground with a loud noise. He threw himself over her, his body hovering, hands holding her struggling ones in a strong grip while his legs tried to keep her from kicking. Only when he heard Taehyung whimpering for him to not do anything, he looked up, noticing the terrified look on his friend's face. He looked down again much calmer now, taking in her appearance for the first real time. Her clothes were a mix of things; two differently colored overknee socks, shoes that looked not to be her size at all, but laces bound around her ankles to keep them from slipping. Her dress was white; probably, because the dirt stuck to it colored it all shades of colors. The fabric was torn at the seams, the entire thing not fitting her at all. But neither her clothing, nor the skinny appearance or the bruises and fading cuts caught his attention. It were her hybrid features.

Her ears, turned backwards so hard they seemed to be wanting to dissappear into her skull were a dirty white, rimmed with pitchblack. Her tail swishing back and forth underneath her was puffed with panic, probably white underneath all the dirt with a greyish black stripe on it. The fur was tangled, parts matted- he knew what this meant. She was probably either feral, or came from a place he knew all too well. "I'm gonna let go. Try to run and I will catch you again." Jungkook spoke lowly, and suddenly the small female went completely still, apart from her shivering, which was probably due to her inner panic and fear. Taehyung watched, wanting to get closer, but choosing to stay a respecting few steps away, too scared he might make her want to flee again. "What's your name?" Jungkook asked after he had sit up on his heels, arms crossed in front of him. Her scent gave her away to him; he already noticed she was a predator hybrid as well. When she didn't answer, he sighed. "Do you even have one?" He asked, his entire posture turning more sympathetic towards her once she finally shook her head in denial. It all made sense to him, even to Taehyung who'd never known such situations himself luckily.

Said hybrid jumped a little when his phone rang, Namjoons ID making him answer. "Hyung?" He answered, before Jungkook held out his hand for the device, Taehyung understanding. "Hyung, Jungkookie wants to talk to you." He said, nodding at something he said over the phone before giving it to his younger brother, wary not to move to fast so you wouldn't flinch too much.

"I'm gonna bring someone home." He simply said, looking at the girl in front of him. In no way in hell he would let her just walk off like that, knowing where she probably came from. He knew this could very well be overstepping a line for him in his new home, but Namjoon simply saying that it was okay and asking if he should set out another plate for food. Jungkook chose not to say anything about her condition yet, knowing it would be rude for him to talk about her like that now. He simply said his goodbyes, giving Taehyung his phone back, before slowly standing up, picking up his plastic bag along the way. "Come on." He said, taking off his zip hoodie to give to her, helping her hide her pretty beat up form in his big clothing. She seemed wary at first, not trusting the entire situation yet, but choosing the jacket after a moment of thinking it over. Taehyung smiled at her comfortingly, but keeping his distance, not knowing how to react. He'd been like that with jungkook at first too, unsure and shy almost. Jungkook however seemed calm, giving him reassurance that at least one of them knew how to handle the situation.

Things however took a turn once he noticed the girl next to him paling even more than she already had; breath turning uneven and eyes suddenly closing, she fell to her knees first before Jungkook could react. "What do we do?" Taehyung asked with a bit of panic in his tone, Jungkook now looking like he was out of answers as well, before picking her up and carrying her back home.

Luckily for them, the park they were at wasn't that far away, making it easy and fast to reach the large house rather quick. Opening the door, Jin started to turn around to greet them, before he noticed the unconscious figure in the arms of the wolf hybrid, automatically shooing both inside and turning off the stove before telling them to put her on the couch.

"What happened?" He asked, but Taehyung was talking so fast his brain couldn't process all of the information at once, making him simply nod. "Who is she?" But at this question, both fell silent. None of them knew for sure, Namjoon walking downstairs after hearing all the commotion, the rest of the hybrids slowly following, concerned faces everywhere.

"I don't know. She said she doesn't have a name. I've seen her before though." Jungkook simply stated, making everyone frown at the realization what he meant. She probably came from the same company as him, shipped illegally and living with a highly possible abusive owner. Just like him.

Namjoon kneeled down in front of the couch, softly inspecting her hybrid features, careful not to wake her. "From what I see I would say fox hybrid." He stated, standing up and crossing his arms.

"But her ears aren't red!" Jimin, the cat hybrid asked timidly from his spot near the couch at her feet, feeling concerned at her lack of movement. Namjoon smiled a bit, placing a hand reassuringly on top of his head.

"They don't always have to be. Foxes have different breeds and colors as well." He said, and Jimin seemed as entranced as ever. The young cat hybrid always liked to almost soak up every bit of knowledge Namjoon gave him like a sponge, though he was known to be pretty forgetful due to an accident he had as a small kitten.

"I'd say lets bring her in our guest room, let her sleep, and after she wakes up, we'll see what we do." Jin stated, making everyone nod. To wait was the best answer for now.

Waking up honestly never felt so pleasant as now. Something that should've set you at ease, but it did the exact opposite; not knowing where you were plus the lack of consciousness after just waking up made your fur stand up, and your body shooting out of the bed into the nearest corner. Accidentally pushing down a small table lamp in the process made all hybrids and humans react; a soft knock was heard on the closed door, asking for entrance. But you couldn't answer, even if you wanted to.

The door opened hesitantly, a cat hybrid with black ears and Sandy brown hair making it's way inside gently, before sitting down with his back pressed against the closed door lazily. He seemed calm, collected, but you couldn't read his intentions. He didnt talk; he maybe knew you wouldn't answer anyways.

A long staring contest followed, or maybe he was just waiting for your heavy breathing to calm down, because as soon as he felt you were calm enough he spoke. "If you're hungry, we're having dinner." Noticing your surprised face he had to swallow the chuckle bubbling in his throat. "Its almost noon. Just so you know." He said, and noticed how your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. He slowly stood up, opening the door to walk outside, but leaving it open. Leaving the choice to you.

After a moment or two, you slowly stood up, legs still a bit wobbly. You didnt know your way around the entire house, but your ears caught noise from downstairs- a lot of voices mixing together. It felt odd to you- where were the guards? Slowly trying to find your way downstairs (you've never really walked stairs before, neither up or down for that matter) your movement stopped as soon as you noticed eyes on you. Holding onto the banisters, you felt insecure, not daring to move another inch. You heard a chair scrape on the tiled floor, and someone stepping up to you. Closing your eyes you got ready to be scolded- this had been a test hadn't it? But as you opened one eye to peak, a hand was held in front of you. "Come on." The gentle voice sounded a bit familiar, and the face was very much so. The boy with the dark curly hair from the park stood one step below you, a gentle spark in his eyes. Slowly taking his much larger hand, you both made your way down the stairs carefully, him always stopping and taking it slow and steady so you wouldnt fall.

"Ah, sit down! I'm Jimin!" Said hybrid cat told you excitedly while pointing to his side, an empty chair waiting for you. His multi colored feline features gave his entire feelings away, and you internally found it a bit cute if you were honest. You looked at the chair for a second, and looked around after a bit as if to ask for permission first. A tall man with broad shoulders and a very handsome face nodded with a smile, and you sat down as quietly as you could. Jimin immediately started to fill your plate with food, your eyes sparkling at the view in front of you; never having received such amounts of nice smelling and looking foods before. Looking up, you felt awkward, yet once everyone around you started to eat too, you took the nod from the handsome stranger again as a form of permission. But there was a problem.

You'd never used cutlery before.

Sensing your trouble, the dog hybrid on your other side (the same one from the park) started to cut up your food into bite size pieces, before he gave you a fork, holding his as well to give you an example on how to hold it. You had to try a few times but eventually made it; the smile of everyone sensing a funny feeling through your body. You had to restrain yourself from reacting too boldly, but if you could you wouldve jumped in your spot at how delicious it was. However, the speed you were eating in gave away how nice it was. The dog hybrid with the marbled floppy ears chuckled a bit while cutting up more food for you and loading your plate until you gave him a sign to stop.

Slowly, one of the two humans stood up collecting the dishes; another odd thing. Why didnt they tell their hybrids to do that? You stood up and attempted to help, when a hand was placed on your shoulder- warm and gentle. "Ah, we'll handle it. Do you maybe want to take a bath?" The handsome human told you, and your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, obviously asking if he was serious. He smiled at you and nodded. "Do you want someone to help you?" Yiu nodded, not really knowing your way around, your eyes spotting the dark curly hair from the couch, he however wasnt looking at you. The human caught your stare however, turning around. "Jungkook, can you help our friend here run a bath? Oh, and maybe jimin has some clothing that'll fit her-" he said, but Jungkook had already stood up, walking over to you.

The bathroom was large, and as you sat on the closed toilet just how Jungkook had instructed you to do so while he turned on the water, you took the opportunity to look around. How long does it take to clean the entire thing? Would you be in charge of that? But the others didnt have to do the dishes either, so maybe this was one of those homes one of the domestic puppy's had talked about at the mansion. As if he could sense your thoughts, Jungkook started to talk while he poured a nice smelling purple liquid into the water, making it foam. "We dont have to actually work here y'know." He started, and you listened to him with a bit of confusion. He didnt push it though. "I'll leave you to it now... if you need help just uh.. call me or Someone or whatever." He said and walked out after turning the water off. You sat there for a bit, not knowing if you could do anything, but deciding to just go for it. Stripping your clothes you gently got into the tub, warmth surrounding you as well as a nice flowery scent. You happily started to wash yourself, not caring for a moment as you rubbed your ears and tail clean of all the grime that had piled up, grinning once the fur started to turn white and black again, the dirt finally coming off. Washing your hair you finished off, stepping out and wrapping a towel around you.

Opening the door you peaked around the corner, until you softly called out for the wolf. You thought he maybe didnt hear you, but suddenly you heard feet stepping upstairs and soon he stood in front of you, holding some clothes out. "Here." He said, and at your look of confusion he simple looked to the side, almost as if he was embarrassed. "They're uh.. mine. I- so you can- I mean baggy clothes are comfortable so, yeah.." he said, and you smiled at that, his eyes suddenly widening at the view he got. This was the first smile he'd ever seen you display, and he couldn't help but feel his heart rate increase.

You changed into his clothing before finally coming downstairs, a bit slow but finally without any help, looking a bit awkward. Someone cooing at you made you look in the direction of the sound, spotting the living room it seemed, all hybrids and humans sitting down. The puppy hybrid with the marbled ears had turned around on the couch, looking at you, while the other tall human came to you, towel and brush in hand. "Come on, before you catch a cold." He said, patting his lap for you to sit on. You hesitated for a moment, until you finally sat down, your back facing him. "I'm Namjoon by the way." He said, until he pointed to the broad shouldered man sitting on the other couch. "This is Seokjin. He's the eldest, kind of the head of the family." He stated, gently drying your hair with a towel before he started to dry your ears as well. "Taehyung and Jungkook were the ones you met at the park." Pointing towards the marble eared puppy hybrid and the wolf sitting next to him. "You already met Jimin. Next to him is Yoongi, the one who called you for dinner." He stated, before he pointed to the one who seemed to hold back his excitement the most as if not to scare you. "And that's Hoseok. Hes kinda quiet because he tends to get a bit loud. We dont want to scare you." The towel felt soft against your features, until he took a brush to run it through your hair. "What kind are you?" He gently asked, to which you answered on a quiet voice.

"A marble fox." You stated, everyone listening closely because of how quiet you spoke.

Namjoon nodded, visibly interested, but keeping it in for now. "Do you need anything specific concerning your diet?" He asked, and you shook your head. Not that you'd know. Until now, hybrid pellets were your best bet concerning food. "I see. I know you probably dont want to talk about it, but it's important." He started, turning your around so you sat sideways on his lap. "Do you want to go back to your owner?" He simply asked, and by the way your ears instantly turned backwards, everyone knew the answer. Jimin instantly moved forwards, reaching out to pat your head gently, making your eyes widen at the gesture.

"We wont make you go back. She can stay, cant she Joon?" Jimin asked, looking hopeful at his owner. The calico hybrid had always been extremely social and clingy towards people he liked, and it showed; he took a liking to you, letting you go would prove difficult now. That was one of the many reasons he'd ended up in a shelter; his high maintenance nature and need for attention made him not an easy pet. He felt for you.

"Its not that simple Jiminie, but well try our best." He said, sharing a glance with his husband on the other couch. They'd have to find out if you were in any database first, and after that Jin could start collecting necessary documents for your adoption.

"Wait, wait!" Taehyubg suddenly said, making everyone look up to him, until he sat down in front of you. "You dont have a name right?" You said, making everyone gasp a bit, apart from Jungkook who knew already. "Then we'll give you one!" He said, looking around, and everyone started thinking. Giving a name to a hybrid was a huge thing; after all, you'd be carrying this forever. You started to get a bit nervous, everyone trying out names until Jungkook spoke up, gaze straight on you.

"Y/N."

And for one once, everyone instantly agreed.

The next morning started slow. You found out that both humans, Seokjin and namjoon didnt work on weekends, and took the time off to spend time with everyone. It felt a bit foreign not knowing what your exact purpose was.

"Master Seokjin?" You asked as you sat on one of the kitchen chairs to watch him cook. He turned around a bit before answering.

"Jin is fine, really. That title is.. really not necessary. We're all equal." He spoke in a gentle tone, and you noted not to call him that anymore.

"What is my purpose in this household?" You questioned with great curiosity, and Jin was close to answering until a hand was placed on your head.

"Being cute." Yoongi answered before sitting on the kitchen board, making seokjin shake his head a bit, because he wasnt supposed to, but did it anyways. "We all dont really have a job or anything. We help around the house here and there, Jimin takes care of the garden for example, Taehyung has his pet bunnies outside, and so on. It's more like a hobby though." He explained while continuously stealing pieces of bacon from jin.

"But.."you started, frowning a bit. "Why have hybrids then?"

"Because, we wanted to. Companionship. Simple as that." Jin answered, before ushering Yoongi out the kitchen, who just smirked as he walked out lazily. How he could get away with his behavior was a mystery to you. Just as you wanted to ask something however, a yawn interrupted you. You woke up early again today, a habit you would find hard to get over.

The wolf with the long hair came in, picking you up without asking at all. "Yah, Jungkookie, you cant just carry her around like a ragdoll!" Jin said, the Saif wolf however just shrugged and walked out, putting you down the couch before laying down himself, arms around you.

"Jungkook.?" You gently asked, but he made a sound to silence you.

"Naptime." He simply said, putting his leg over yours for good measure, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldnt escape. During those two days the wolf had been constantly around you, always keeping an eye out for you, making sure you didnt get uncomfortable. It felt as if he'd unofficially claimed you as his, a fact that felt a bit weird to you. There was nothing to claim. You were a used product, still unsure and constantly confused. But before your thoughts could fall any deeper, the gently sound of his heartbeat against your back made you fall asleep.

Shopping was something that was foreign, again. You knew how it worked of course, but you'd never been out before to buy things- and for you for that matter. You slowly got used to your name however, your brain inking the sound into your memories, so that you'd never forget it again. People seemed so carefree, your companions happy and joking around, Jungkook never daring to let go of your hand, as if he was scared to loose you, and to be fair, a lot of people were out this time.

"You okay?" He asked once he noticed you staring around, and you nodded, looking up to him, since you were a good bit shorter.

"Yeah. It's just.. a lot to take in." You said, while he looked at clothing. "Do you think I.." you started, and he looked at you, urging you to continue. "Stay? Like, could I stay with you.. and your family?"

He smiled at that, squeezing the hand he was holding a bit. "I'll do everything I can to make that happen." His words made your tail sway a bit, the first real time it happened, and Jungkook cooed internally at the sight. And although he didnt voice it out, he made a promise to get more reactions like that out of you.

Together everyone made their way home after everything was bought, you sitting next to Jungkook and Tae on both sides. Things like these were still exhausting for you, causing you to eventually fall asleep, your ears tickling Taehyungs neck a bit. He looked down on you, trying to burn the image into his mind. You looked so peaceful, angelic even, he couldn't explain it.

Deciding not to wake you he unbuckled your seatbelt, slowly moving you out the car and carrying you inside the house. As soon as he laid you on the couch and tried to walk away however, your hand grabbed his pants, gently tugging to get him back. He smiled and complied, hugging you on the couch happily; you seemed to open up to everyone one by one, making him exhale with fondness.

"Come on, let's get you to bed then." He gently said, as everyone around you said their good nights and walked upstairs into their rooms.

"Can I.." you started, but slowly stood up without finishing, making Taehyung grab your hand this time, tables having turned with him keeping you from walking away now. "I.. uh, you can say no, but maybe I could like... sleep in your room.?" You asked, not looking at him out of embarrassment. His reaction however, was a smile so bright and boxy you swore you could've melted right there on the spot.

"Of course cuddlebug. come on!"

"This is bad." Namjoon mumbled, carrying an opened letter in his hand while carding his unoccupied hand through his hair. Seokjin looked at him with worry, walking towards him to catch a glimpse of whatever he'd been reading.

Earlier that day, they've gone out for breakfast, jimin suggesting you should ge used to being outside more. Since Jungkook was someone who slept long, Taehyung and Jimin had taken you out instead, happy to get the surprisingly clingy wolf off of you for a few hours. Needless to say, the canine hybrid however wasnt too happy to find you missing when he woke up, a little jealousy mixed with worry making him fussy until you finally came back.

The news in this letter however weren't too good. Apparently, your old owner has taken notice that you've been sheltered at his place without his consent, asking for a date to quote unquote "return his property" as he stated, making both humans scrunch up their faces with disgust at the wording. Jin has had his suspicions about you being treated poorly in the past, and it seems like he was right about it.

"Should we tell her?" Namjoon asked, not sure if it was something you genuinely should know yet. Maybe there was a way to get you out of this without making everyone feel uneasy or restless. They both didnt want you to go back to that place, having already locked you into their hearts. They also thought you deserved to know, making both worry. However, a deep voice startlet both.

"Tell her what?" Jungkook asked, eyes glazed over with something they couldn't quite place. "Huh?" He said again, getting impatient. He was easy to rile up in general, but with you he seemed to be especially touchy. Jin simply gave him the letter that was in question, and the wolf immediately widened his eyes, looking back at them. "He cant be serious. We wont let her go back there." He said, scoffing, but looking darkly at his friends when there was no answer. "Right?" He asked, but there still was no reaction other than uncomfortable silence.

"Jungkook it's not that easy-" but he was soon interrupted by the young wolf.

"Are you mental?! Dont tell me you're actually giving her away like what?!" He raged out, heart racing with the fear that he could be separated from you. "She trusts you hyung! You cant be serious.!" He said, getting quieter the more their silence stretched.

The main reason was that they legally had no ownership. They couldn't afford going against authorities with the other hybrids in their possession, they had to think about what was best after all. And jungkook deep down knew as well- but he considered you a part of his pack already. Loosing you would hurt alone. But losing you to an abusive situation would drive him insane.

The door opened, happy voices cutting threw the heavy atmosphere in the house, but before they could reach the three, jungkook dashed into his room, needing to cool down. Both jimin and Taehyung looked at their owners confused, but the only thing they could do was sigh. This was a difficult situation. And the outcome could be horrible.

You knew something was up.

The atmosphere had changed, both humans were starting to grow distant from you, keeping a safe bubble around them you couldn't seem to join. Slowly but surely, even though you had a small glimmer of hope this wouldnt happen, you realized what was going on.

They wanted you gone. But they just didnt know how to tell you.

So what was the best thing to do in a situation like that? Exactly. Take away the burden of decision making, and do it for them. Softly folding your clothes, you made sure to leave your room as tidy and clean as possible, as a form of thank you for their hostility. You didnt hold a grudge against them; they had to take care of a lot of wonderful hybrids already. You were a burden that needed to be lifted. Slipping on a red beanie that you may or may not have stolen from jungkook, along with some warmer clothes since it was winter, you opened the window. Walking outside the door was absolutely impossible, since it creaked a bit every time it opened, but the window wasnt a problem to climb out of.

As soon as your shoes (timberlands, a thing that jungkook always cooed over because they looked tiny compared to his own pair) touched the soft crunchy leaves that weren't covered in snow, you breathed in. You made it this far. You could go even farther as well. You believed in that.

Meanwhile, jin stirred in his sleep a little, cold icy air hitting his exposed feet. Did he forget to turn the heater on? No, it smelled like fresh air, even though his bedroom windows were closed. It took him a sleepy moment to make a very scary thought creep until his mind. Instantly getting up and walking until the hallway, opening your bedroom window, his fear became a reality he hoped to turn out as a mere dream. But the soft wind accompanied by small snowflakes making it's way into the empty room was easy too real. And he swore he could hear his heart crack like glass as soon as he heard the broken growl behind him, not needing to turn around to know whose it was. Namjoon tried to calm the wolf down, but it only caused him to be even louder, luring a tired Taehyung, and even Yoongi out of their sleep.

"Whe-where is she.?" Taehyung slowly asked, fearing the answer he'd get. He knew he cared deeply for you, but jimin would simply be heartbroken by the fact that you left. But before Namjoon could explain, since Jin was still simply staring, frozen, Jungkooks dark voice cut through.

"Gone. Just like they wanted." He said, suddenly speedwalking down the stairs, slipping on his shoes and throwing over a jacked, dashing out, blinded by rage and fear for you. He didn't even hear his friends yelling for him to come back; his mind running on autopilot, his only mission:

Getting you back.

Warapped up in one of Taehyungs oversized coats, walking along the streets littered with cafes, you wondered if leaving was really the best idea. How could you really have gotten attached so fast though? It wasnt really like you, considering your past experiences with humans, and other hybrids as well.

Pulling the red beanie a little down to make sure it covered you well, you decided to make a trip back to the very park you first met the large family. It felt odd to be back, knowing what had happened- and how far you've come. You had actual clothing now, some snacks in your pockets to keep you going for a while, and some newfound energy you didn't even think you could have. Deep down you had known all along that a future wasn't in it for you; this family was a well established pack already- it felt rather rude to intrude for you. But maybe now you could actually maybe approach people a bit better after coming out of your shell a bit- but the more you thought about it, the less it felt appealing to you.

Because no matter how kind a person would be, jimin would've been so much kinder. No matter how happy someone would make you, Hoseok could've made you smile so much brighter. No matter how smart someone would be, Namjoon could've shown you so much more in this world. No matter how tight someone would hug you, Taehyungs hugs would've felt so much better. No matter how calm a silence would be, Yoongi's would've felt so much more comforting to you. No matter how well someone would take care of you, Jin would've mothered you even worse.

And no matter how much someone would try to make you feel safe, Jungkook would've made you feel so much more protected. As if nothing could ever hurt you in this world.

You sniffled a bit, noticing your eyes stinging with tears that threatened to spill from your dark thoughts alone. But thats what you felt like; for the first time in a long while, you truly felt alone. And it wasn't a nice feeling. If back in the day loneliness comforted you because it was better than being with 'him', it now felt suffocating. You felt small, tiny, and truly vulnerable. And you hated it.

You shook your head, scouting out a place to spend the night without getting noticed by authorities. It was back to your old habits again, your knowledge about the surrounding area and how to survive out here helping you to fit back into your situation again.

However; together with your old situation came an old perso as well, his greeting sending cold shivers down your spine- and that had nothing to do with the flaky-breeze the winter brought.

"There you are."

Somewhere in Seoul, a distressed wolf was almost running down the streets during the early morning hours, his skin running hot even considering the freezing temperatures. But this only added to his worries.

Were you scared? Cold? Hungry? Or worse?

What if you got hurt?

Where would you sleep?

His mind automatically pictured the worst; you, hiding somewhere, cold, distressed, and all alone, vulnerable to every predator around. He knew deep down that you were strong, that you probably wore clothes to keep you warm, you were smart enough to think before you acted, but his instincts wouldn't let him rest at all. He almost jumped at a heaving Yoongi; the cat wasn't really used to running after the way more active Wolf hybrid, but he had to- if someone saw him running wild without anyone with him, they would have even more problems at hand than just you. "Jungkook-" He began, but before he could even get another word out, the younger Hybrid grabbed his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with fear, showing their bare, reddish-brown color, a sign that he was slipping into a very dangerous headspace for a predator hybrid.

"Hyung, she's out there- she- what if someone gets her? What if her old owner finds her, you know how bad it was where she came from, what if she gets hurt, and I'm not there to help her, I'm supposed to protect her, I-" He was breathing heavily, his eyes opening wide with the fear that his own words began to fire up in his chest.

"Jungkook, we'll find her-" But namjoon may not have been the best person to speak up in that current moment, and Yoongi thanked whoever god was in charge that day, because thankfully the streets were empty this early in the morning.

Because as soon as Jungkook heard his owners voice, his entire body changed in posture- he was ready to jump him. Thankfully Jin had arrived as well, rushing to hold the alpha back while he wasn't thinking straight and yelling at the person he should be able to trust with his entire being. But in this moment, Namjoon seemed to be his worst enemy. "Its your fault! You wanted this didn't you?! Admit it, you're glad she took the decision off your way too high shoulders and decided to make it easy for you!" He yelled, his body language basically screaming hostility. "Its because you're always right- but you never make decisions do you! You only follow rules if others follow with you, and you only run with whatever shit someone seems to spit, you're a coward!" He said, slowly calming down since his body was getting tired. He hadn't been this riled up in a long time- the stress finally taking a toll on him now.

Jin and Yoongi managed to get him back inside the car, leaving Namjoon and Jimin alone. The cat hybrid had followed along as soon as he heard that you left them so suddenly- he was distressed about it as well, but he worried about his entire family situation too. He nodded towards Yoongi, who made a gesture to tell him they'd bring Jungkook back home where Taehyung and Hoseok were waiting as well- having the alpha hybrid running wild while not being in the best state of mind wasn't the best idea. It could also prove getting you back difficult as well, seeing as you were still pretty skittish whenever he was getting only a bit louder when playing video games with Taehyung.

"Lets go back to the park. Maybe she's gonna stay in an area she considers familiar? I know I would.." Jimin said softly, gently tugging at the sleeve of Namjoons jacket, to get him to move. But he had troubles concentrating, Jungkooks voice echoing inside his mind almost hauntingly. He knew that deep down it was just his distressed wolf speaking, but maybe this was what he really thought of him. And the worst part was that he wasn't even wrong about it. Maybe he was a coward. He was insecure, and he shouldn't be. Not as a person, not as a lover, not as an owner, and not in his field of work. But he shook his head, nodding at Jimin who slowly started walking into the direction of the park.

Namjoon couldn't hold it in on their way as they walked towards the place they had initially met you- or in this case, where Taehyung and Jungkook met you. "Do you think he's right?" He asked softly, not looking at jimin, and trying to look at every corner in front of him to maybe spot you.

"You know how he gets Joonie." Jimin began softly, his red bucket hat hiding his ears, but he could see them move slighty under it. "He wasn't in the best state of mind. I think he was just.. out of it I guess." He said, his senses trying to notice something he could identify as you.

But namjoon only sighed. "But he had a point, no?" He began, his brows furrowing while thinking about it. "He may have blown his thoughts out of proportion, but the root of them was there. I know he's right. But I don't know why it bothers me so much." He said, his steps getting harder as they began to walk on grassy grounds, finally reaching the park.

"That's because its you. You hate it when other people are right." Jimin chuckled, making his statement appear less sharp than it was. "But that's you, and that's why you're so good at anything involving your brain. You and Jungkook are pretty similar; you both hate loosing." He said, his smile spreading as he spotted a familiar coat near a streetlight. However, his pupils became slits in distress, his mind slipping just like Jungkooks as soon as he noticed your body language- you stood in front of a person, a stranger, and your entire being screamed fear at him, making him taste the bitter flavour even though he wasn't in your place. "joonie-" He said, but the man in question was already walking foward.

"Hey, what're you doing?" He said rather loudly, his voice sharp edged, not leaving any room for a smile. The man simply turned towards him, holding his hand out.

"Ah, you're the person that took it in right? I assume because you look quite like the Kim Namjoon I saw on your profile picture while we where in contact via E-Mail." He said, his voice full of a weird sense of pride, making Jimin step back a little. He desperately wanted to get to you, but his fear was getting the better of him, instinctively hiding behind his owner.

"That's right." Namjoon simply said, but refraining from shaking the man's hand. He wanted nothing to do with this person, knowing what kinds of businesses he was involved into, you quite possibly having been a part of this too. Because this had been why he had been so hesitant in answering Jungkook. It was difficult to go against someone of that size, and they needed to think about their actions before actually doing anything. But again Jungkooks words rang inside his ears. He wouldn't stay a coward in this situation. He had the law in his favor. "I also advice you to step away from her because, as you should know, hybrids get anxious when someone other than their owners are too close to them." He said, making the man scoff.

Jimin wanted to lash out as he harshly grabbed the end of your tail making you squeak in pain and him laugh, Namjoons face contorting slowly with growing anger. "Ah yes, but we both know how the situation is. That's my property, and therefore mine to take back. I do thank you for keeping her in your apartment and feeding her, but I have business to attend to."

The cat hybrid was silently crying now, his sympathetic character making him feel just as much distress as you felt, the man still keeping a tight hold of your tail- something you hated as you had told Jimin many times before. He felt helpless- but Namjoon would surprise everyone, just like every time.

He simply took out his phone, tapping a bit here and there before opening a document, holding it towards the stranger. "Legally she is mine currently since you're under official surveilance involving several issues we won't get in too deep. Now, would you mind letting go of my hybrid sir?" He simply said, voice calm.

The man simply scoffed, pushing you forward onto the gravel, making you hiss as you felt your nice jeans scratch open, revealing your knees which scraped open as well on the ground, along with your hands that tried to soften the blow. Jimin dashed foward now, not caring if the man was close to him or not, immediately shielding your body from anyone around him, softly purring in order to calm you, and himself down. The man simply left, Namjoon softly walking over to both his hybrids, patting Jimin's back to get him to reveal you towards him.

He made you sit down, the cold seeping into you but you didnt care- your hands and feet stung, making you tear up. But the reason you were crying was because you were both upset and relieved- maybe there was a chance of staying with them, even if it was just for a while longer. "Can I look at it?" He asked softly, and you just sniffeled, nodding. Namjoon knew it was a bad moment, but he couldn't help but admire you in that moment. Even with a runny nose, all red from crying and the cold, eyes shiny with tears, you had that adorable pouty face making him melt. He observed your scraped up knees and hands, softly brushing over them to at least get most of the dirt out before helping you get up. "Lets go home, yeah? You scared everyone to death." He said, laughing a bit to lift the mood. Jimin, still a bit teary as well, held your arm, since your hands still hurt from the incident. Jungkoo would run wild seeing you hurt, but he would eventually calm down, hopefully. Both Jimin and Namjoon hoped first however, that he left the apartment standing.

"It's never gonna be the same Taehyung." Jungkook said still angry, sitting on the living room couch with his head in his hands. The Dog hybrid had managed to at least calm him down a little, but overall there was still a rather dark mood surrounding everyone. Tae himself was sad as well, however he pushed his own feelings back in order to at least not fuel the fire even more. The front door jingled a bit with the sound of someone inserting a key, and at first, no one really did anything- until Jungkook got hit with your scent, his head snapping up at the sound of you-

sniffling.

Where you crying? One look towards you confirmed that you were, his mind running on autopilot as soon as he saw those glassy orbs looking at him. He jumped over the back of the couch, almost tripping over the carpet and his own shoes he simply had taken off mindlessly, immediately observing you to look for injuries. "What happened?!" He said in a rush, his large hands taking your small ones in his, hissing at the scratches on the inside of your palms.

"Come on Jungkook, I need to treat y/n first, then we can talk." Namjoon said, Jimin helping you take off your jacket and leading you to the bathroom downstairs. Jungkook followed silently, his pack instincts simply refusing to get him to leave you out of his sight for even a moment. He sat down in front of the open bathroom door with his legs crossed, watching as Jimin made you sit on the closed toilet seat, Namjoon getting a small towel and filling the sink with warm water, beginning to slowly clean up your cuts and scrapes from any dirt and gravel. Every time you hissed, Jimins ears twitched and Jungkook sat up straighter to get a look at you- not because he didn't trust namjoon, but because he just had to make sure you were okay.

Namjoon took out some larger bandaids and placed them onto your knees since they were actually bleeding, but simply brushed over the backs of your hands when he was done. "Try not to do much with them okay? Its better if we leave them like that. It'll heal faster." He said, and you nodded, still a bit pouty and awfully quiet, but everyone could see your interest in the scent that slowly began to creep through the apartment; jin's cooking. "Alright buttercup, go get changed and then let's eat, alright?" He said, silently telling you that you both would talk in private soon. You knew he had made a decision, and you hoped it was for you, not against.

Jungkook stood up, stepping aside so you all could walk outside, Taehyung running towards you and hugging you tightly. "Don't do that again." He mumbled, and you nodded, your own cheeks growing a bit red at the close proximity. "Lets go! Jin made your favorite!" He said, and you followed behind him.

"Hyung-" Jungkook started, thinking about how to apologize, since it was needed, but the older one beat him to it.

"It's fine Jungkook. It maybe wasn't the best moment, but you were right. I guess I can't leave the protecting-part solely to you, huh?" He said, making the young alphawolf scoff and playfully push his shoulder.

After you all ate, you slowly went outside the kitchen after helping jin a bit, even though he scolded you for using your hands. Suddenly, someone came up in front of you, wrapping his own hands around your tiny form compared to him, and burying his nose into your head between your ears, the soft fur of them brushing against his cheeks, making him sigh happily. "You're part of my pack you brat." He mumbled into your hair, squeezing you a bit tighter while careful not to hurt you. "I don't like people taking away whats mine." He said again, and suddenly, he heard the rest of his family coo at him and you, making him raise an eyebrow. He had hugged you before, so what? But then he noticed it too.

The happy wagging of your tail.

This have been 5 Chapters, combined in one post. Because R0ADKiLL's chapters are fairly short I've decided to make one out of them, simply to get you all on the same page of the stories progress up until now. The writing officially belongs to R0ADKiLL, not me. Only future chapters are mine. =) Thanks again to R0ADKiLL for giving me her baby practically, I promise I'll take care of it!

#ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #ot7 imagine #ot7 hybrid fanfic #ot7 hybrid imagine #namjoon imagine #hoseok imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #Seokjin imagine #jin imagine #jimin imagine #suga imagine #yoongi imagine

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lucy-268 · 4 years

Text

Revelations

A/N - This is ‘the talk’ and it takes place a week after Regrets. You can find that on my masterlist. Also, this meets the requirement for the @choicesweeklychallenge. You belong to me can be found in bold.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: none? I don’t think even language.

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 4,466

*****Thursday*****

“Has Denver General sent us any more information, or will I just find out when I get there?” June asked.

Consulting his notes, Ethan answered her. “Dr. Morgan said that he would send us the remaining test results as soon as he gets them. He’ll be sending them to all of us, so if you want to discuss the case with any of us we’ll all have the same information.”

June never looked up from the report she was reviewing. “I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Regardless of whether you think it’s a necessity, you will keep me informed of the case.” Ethan reminded her.

“Of course, Ethan.” June said. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get ready for my flight?”

“You don’t want to hear about my new patient?” Baz asked her.

June glanced at him. “My flight leaves in less than three hours, so no. At least not right now.” She gathered her files and left saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Baz, what is going on with your new patient?” Charley asked.

“Late-onset Chediak-Higashi Syndrome. For me as an immunologist, I find it extremely interesting, especially as the patient is thirty-two and just diagnosed.”

Charley looked between Baz and Ethan. “Is this a team patient?”

“No. This is a patient of Baz’s. We will have a new patient coming in on Monday for which you will be primary.” Ethan held up a folder.

Baz briefed them on his patient, excusing himself when he received a page saying the patient was being admitted.

“And then there were two,” Ethan handed her the folder.

She flipped it open and read through the file. “Twenty-five year old male. Diabetic. Joint pain and muscle weakness.” Charley looked at him. “Do you know what it is and you want me to figure it out?”

Ethan shook his head. “I have a couple of ideas but I don’t know for sure what it is. You should have several ideas right now.”

“The symptoms can be just about anything. You said he gets here on Monday ?”

He nodded. “He’s already been to Mass Kenmore several times. Even though we have sent a release signed by the patient, Terrance hasn’t sent the files to us. So we may start with spinning our wheels testing for things that they have already tested for and eliminated.”

Charley studied the file again. “Did you see the iron levels here? I think the first thing is a liver biopsy?”

“Are you telling me that’s what you are going to do, or asking me if I think that’s the right choice?” Ethan asked her.

Her head snapped up. “That’s what I’m going to order. I’ll even have the order written so the test is run as soon as he’s admitted.” Charley met his eyes. “What?”

Ethan smiled. “There aren’t a lot of doctors who could have figured out to start with that test after reviewing a file for less than fifteen minutes. Let alone a second year resident. So I am impressed.” He reached over and stroked the back of her hand. “You often impress me.”

She turned her hand and laced their fingers. “It’s Thursday.”

“So it is.”

“Last week you texted me and said we would talk on Saturday.”

“Yes. And we decided we’d have dinner at six.”

Charley met his eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind?”

“We’re meeting at my apartment. I’ll be there. We are long overdue for the talk. And I’m sorry for that.”

Charley smiles. “Will I finally get my chicken?”

“You will not. We’ve made the chicken together,” he held up his hand when she was going to interrupt, “this time, we’ll make something else. You plan the meal.”

“We may have made the chicken together but I never got to try it.”

“I want to see what you come up with. You can create any menu you want. Email me what we need and I’ll go shopping.” Ethan smiled at her.

Charley considered for a minute. “Anything?” When Ethan nodded, she continued, “My grandma had an amazing pot roast recipe. We could roast it in the oven or use a crockpot. It’s always best if it cooks on low in the crockpot, so that would take about seven or so hours. I’ll email you the list, and I guess I’ll be there late morning. I guess we’ll also have lunch together, too. That’s alright, isn’t it Ethan?” She didn’t even wait for his answer before she left the office.

Charley watched the office door to see if he was going to come after her and inform her they would not be spending the entire day together.

Ethan sat at his desk, he smiled as he realized that life would never be boring around Charley Valentine.

*****Saturday*****

Sienna pushed open Charley’s bedroom door. “Are yo-” Sienna stopped mid-sentence. She heard several loud thuds and wanted to ask if Charley was okay, but she did not expect the scene she witnessed. She also didn’t see her roommate. “Charley!”

“I’m here,” Charley called, pushing herself out from under the bed. “I was looking for this shoe. That I can’t wear now. Thank you, Lucy!” The shoe had become a chew toy for their pet.

Lucy, their fennec fox, sat in the middle of Charley’s bed, looking proud of herself.

“Forget the shoe, we understand what happened to it.” Sienna looked around the room. “Was there a bomb? Are you telekinetic? Did your closet and dresser decide to vomit every article of clothing you own into your room?”

“I’m looking for something to wear, and I don’t have anything! I got off at five yesterday, I should have gone shopping!”

Sienna remembered the day a couple weeks ago when Charley got home late clad in someone else’s clothes. Based on her own conversation with a certain someone, Sienna had a pretty good idea who. Now she was frantically trying to find something special to wear. “What’s his name?”

Charley froze. “What’s whose name?”

“Obviously, the guy that you’re spending your day with. The same one you were with when you came home wearing clothes that were way too big for you. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Charley stated. “I’m not spending the day with anyone.”

“Yet you canceled on Bryce and me for today.” Sienna picked up a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a rip in the knees. “Here, put these on.” She smiled. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything special today, it doesn’t matter what you have on.”

Charley looked at the clothes that Sienna tossed on her bed. She had to leave for Ethan’s before Sienna would be leaving to meet Bryce, and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear.

Sienna watched her. “I heard that Dr. Ramsey also has today off. And he did when you had your second day off two weeks ago.”

Charley froze and looked to the door. “Everyone else is working today and they’re gone?”

Sienna nodded and sat down on Charley’s bed. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it wasn’t just the one night when he spent the night here?”

“That day we went to the country club and later I went to his apartment to talk to him? That was the first time, and the night after my hearing was the second. It was also the last time.” Charley sighed. “Then he went to the Amazon so we could ‘reset’ since he would be my director supervisor.” Charley sighed. “Since he’s been back he says we need to stay away from each other, but then he’ll kiss me. Today we’re going to ‘talk.’ We’ve been supposed to talk since right after the softball game, but it kept getting delayed.”

Sienna smirked at her. “You had on his clothes the day you came home.”

Charley's face turned red. “We spent the day together with his dad in Providence. We took his dog for a walk and I fell into a mud puddle.”

“You’ve met his family!”

“His dad. He hadn’t told Alan that he was bringing me with him. Ethan had never taken anyone home with him before, not even Harper Emery.”

“Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Emery were a thing!” Sienna’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t know if it’s really common knowledge. Aurora probably knows. I saw the two of them talking once and it seemed intimate. It was the day before they announced the opening on the diagnostics team. I did ask him about it later and he said he likes to keep his private life private, but he did say they had an on-again, off-again thing but it ended permanently when she became chief.” Charley rested her head on her hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone.”

Sienna mimed sealing her lips. “I thought that you and Bryce were kind of together.”

“We hooked up a couple of times but we both agreed to be casual.”

“And with Ramsey, you don’t want casual?”

“I don’t.” Charley chewed on her lip. “Sienna, I’m terrified about today. I know that everything is going to change.”

“Well then, let’s get you ready.” Sienna picked up the t-shirt and jeans. “This probably won’t do; we’ll find something else.”

Charley was just getting ready to leave when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id and sighed. “If you’re calling to cancel-” she started.

“I’m not,” she heard his rich baritone as well as a smile in his voice. “I had to go to the hospital to pick up something. If you haven’t left yet you can ride with me. I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Charley disconnected, smiling.

Soon they were in his apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and stood there when he walked further into the apartment. He got half way through the living room when he realized she wasn’t with him. He turned to find her at the door. “If we want to make this pot roast we need to go to the kitchen.”

Charley gave a nervous laugh and stepped away from the door. She tossed her purse on the couch as they walked into the kitchen. They washed their hands and Ethan pulled his crockpot out of the pantry while Charley pulled the roast out of the refrigerator. She saw the printout from her email with the image of her grandma’s recipe. Ethan gathered the rest of the ingredients while Charley brewed a pot of coffee.

“Why the crockpot instead of a roasting pan in the oven? I saw the recipe had directions for both with cooking times for either low or high in the slow cooker.”

“It tastes better and is more tender.”

Ethan smirked. “It does not. And we need to use the Dutch oven even if it’s just to brown the roast.”

“Maybe it doesn’t do a lot for the taste, but it is more tender.” Charley watched as the coffee finished brewing, standing with her back to him. “It takes longer to cook in the slow cooker on low and I wanted to spend more time with you.” She gave a short laugh. “Funnily enough, now that I’m here, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “I think that today may change everything, and I’m hopeful but I’m also scared. I’ve been wanting to sit down with you away from the hospital with just the two of us for so long, but now that we’re actually going to do that...” She bit her lip.

“Now you understand why I’ve been putting it off. But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I talked to Naveen. We are long overdue. Today will change everything but we will be in agreement with it, I think.”

Charley nodded. Ethan turned back to the counter. “Let’s get this set for dinner, fix lunch, and talk.”

Charley browned the roast in the Dutch oven while Ethan chopped the vegetables and herbs. Once the roast was in the crockpot, Charley cooked the onion. Once they started to soften, they added the rest of the ingredients, including the coffee. “Why coffee?” Ethan asked.

Charley smiled, watching the mixture simmer. “Is this a quiz, same as ‘why neat’ that first night at Donahue’s?”

“Genuine curiosity. As much as I love coffee, I’ve never had pot roast cooked in coffee. I found the recipe interesting.”

“It helps to tenderize the meat and gives the gravy a richer flavor.”

Once the gravy and onion mixture was cooked, Ethan poured it over the meat and set the timer. While Charley washed the accumulated dishes, Ethan fixed salads for lunch. They took their plates to the living room and sat side-by-side on his sofa.

“You talked to Naveen about us.” When he nodded, she continued, “I talked to Sienna.”

They fell into a silence while they ate. Charley glanced at him every so often.

He pushed the last piece of lettuce around on his plate before finally setting the plate on the coffee table. He turned to her; she mimicked his moves and faced him.

“Ethan, I’ve said for a while that a relationship with you is an easy decision for me. It’s what I want. I think that we could be good together, amazing even.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. You aren’t the problem, I am. I want to be able to push you to be the best doctor you can be.”

“You can do that professionally, regardless of any personal relationship we have. I can take criticism from Dr. Ramsey and know that it isn’t coming from Ethan.”

“You’re assuming that I can also have that division.”

That got Charley’s attention. “You’re Ethan Freakin’ Ramsey. You can do anything you try to. If you want to make the distinction you will. And if you cross the line, I’ll let you know.”

“Another problem-”

Charley put her hand on his arm. “If you just want to list a lot of potential possible problems, why are we even having a discussion? Earlier you said that today would change everything and you thought we’d be in agreement.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. “If you thought that I’d change my mind about us, you’re wrong. If you thought you could list all the reasons why we can’t be together and why you won’t be with me, I was right to be nervous about this. If that’s-”

Ethan reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “What I want to do is identify the obstacles or potential obstacles we face so we are both aware of them, and to decide how we need to handle them in the future.” He wiped a tear out of her eye. “Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I very much do want to be with you.”

Charley grabbed his hand and kissed his palm before lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Continue, please.”

“Another problem is the board. They don’t like interoffice romances. Naveen seems to think this won’t be an issue. He seems to think that as long as it isn’t impacting the care of the patients, or the bottom line of the hospital, they wouldn’t care, nor would they even need to be aware. I disagree with him on this. I think the board makes it their business to know what goes on in the hospital.”

Charley interrupted again. “I know that there are married couples at the hospital. Was it a problem when you and Harper were together?” Ethan drew in a deep breath when she asked that. “If you don’t want to answer that you don’t have to.”

“I will. It was not a problem and the board did not have an issue with it when she was head of neurosurgery and I was a fellow on the diagnostics team. If our relationship would have continued when she was chief or if I had been a surgeon, it would have been a problem. Any other couples at Edenbrook do not work in the same area, and one member of the couple is not another’s supervisor.”

Ethan continued, “I don’t want anyone to think that you got the position on my team because of our relationship. I don’t want anyone to have any doubt about that. You earned it.”

Charley nodded. “I did earn it. You weren’t even the one who put me on the team. Naveen did.”

Ethan agreed that while that was true, many people at the hospital could have thought that he asked Naveen to do that.

“If anyone has doubts, I graduated at the top of my class at Columbia. Not near, I was ranked first. In fact if anyone had ranked all med school graduates my year from around the country, I’d probably be in the top fifty.”

Ethan laughed. “Someone did. And you are higher than that. You are somewhere in the top twenty. I’m not going to narrow it down more than that for you.”

“Based on that, I think I earned the right to be on the team. Not to mention helping to cure Naveen last year. Our relationship had nothing to do with it. Well except for the fact you inspired me to go to med school in the first place. And I wanted to work with you, which is why I came to Edenbrook.”

“We probably don’t want to advertise our personal relationship at work. The hospital has a wonderful gossip network and we’ll need to be careful. That being said it probably won’t be long before everyone knows about us.”

“That sounds okay. But some people will know. I told Sienna and you told Naveen. My roommates will know I’m seeing someone, and will make it their mission to find out who.” Charley wasn’t sure if she should mention the next part, but figured she might as well. “June does, or she thinks she does. At least that was what she implied the day I caught her with my personnelle file.”

Ethan froze. “She had your file?”

Charley nodded. “She said that she reads the files for everyone she works with. She tried to tell me you asked her to get it for you, but I knew you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ll deal with her when she gets back from Denver. Your roommates and Naveen are fine.”

“If my roommates know Bryce will also know; and if Aurora does, Harper might.” Charley looked up at him. “Can we talk about Harper?”

“I thought we already had.”

“You ended things when she became chief. If she wouldn’t have, would you still be together, do you think?”

“We would not. We were together because it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. But we were never going to last.”

She smirked at him. “By ‘mutually beneficial’ do you mean it was convenient and the sex was good?”

“Yes.” Ethan said. “But then last year something happened that I knew would never lead Harper and I together again.” When Charley tipped her head to show she was interested in his answer, he continued. “Last year, an intern showed up and turned my life inside out. And I can’t get her out of my head.”

Charley started to move towards him, and he stopped her. “What about the scalpel jockey?”

Charley lips twitched. “His name is Bryce.”

“I’m aware, and you didn’t answer the question.”

“We hooked up twice, once at our housewarming party and again once after we were at Donahue’s. We almost did the night we researched treating Mrs. Martinez, but you’d already kissed me in Miami. I wasn’t interested in anyone else at that point.” She looked at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Bryce is a friend and a good one. I trust him. I also know if I ever did want a relationship with him, I’d have that choice. I don’t, and Bryce respects that.”

“As long as he knows that you belong to me.” Ethan pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

“And you belong to me!” Charley shifted slightly on his lap and felt his hardness under her thigh. “We could continue this in the bedroom.”

“A very good idea.” As Ethan stood and lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Several hours later, they were laying with their legs tangled together, voices soft in the quiet room when an alarm on her phone beeped.

“Somewhere you need to be?” He kissed the top of her head.

She pushed herself up. “Actually, yes. The kitchen. I need to start the vegetables.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a robe that on him would reach mid-thigh. He tossed it to her, before grabbing another for himself. This one hit him at mid-calf. “You could have this one if you wanted.” She indicated the robe she hadn’t yet tied. It fell below her knees.

He snorted. “Be responsible for you tripping in this one? I don’t think so.”

As Charley gathered what she needed for the roasted cauliflower, Ethan grabbed the green beans. Charley explained that sometime they would fix potatoes with the roast, but her grandfather grew up near Idaho and often decided he wanted anything other than potatoes, so they would have cauliflower. “I don’t like raw or steamed, but I really like them roasted with this mustard sauce.”

Charley watched Ethan pull a cake plate out of the refrigerator. “Dessert?” At Ethan's acknowledgment she asked what it was. He wouldn’t tell her, saying he wanted it to be a surprise.

They worked efficiently together in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Ethan selected a red wine for them and opened it to let it breathe. He carried their plates to the dining room table.

“This is good; the coffee does make the gravy richer.”

“Grandma knows best. My grandfather grew up in Spokane and grandma in Seattle. They had a restaurant in Seattle that my dad and all my aunts and uncles worked in while they were growing up.”

“You have a big family?”

“My dad had three brothers and two sisters. But even though they had six kids, my grandparents only had four grandchildren. There was my brother and me; we grew up in Pennsylvania. My one uncle had two boys and they were in Oregon. All of my dad’s family is in the northwest and we didn’t see them often. My dad moved there after he retired and I started med school.”

Ethan watched her. “Are we going to talk about your mom’s family?”

Charley shrugged. “Not much to tell. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was in college. She was an only child and you know why I don’t talk to her.”

As they cleared the table and kitchen he asked her what he had been wondering about. “Why did you decide to do your residency in Boston with most of your family now out west?”

“It doesn’t feel like home to me there. I figured I could do my residency anywhere; it wasn’t a commitment to stay somewhere for my life. It’s only three years.” She smiled at him. “Besides coming here let me learn from the best.”

Ethan poured coffee and set the mugs on a tray with two dessert plates. Charley watched as he lifted the cover off the cake.

“Lemon! How did you know lemon was my favorite?” Charley couldn’t resist. She swiped her finger on the edge of the cake to collect a sample of icing. She popped it in her mouth.

“I asked Sienna the other day and she told me.”

Charley stared at him. “She helped me get dressed this morning and she didn’t say anything!”

Ethan laughed. “You need help getting dressed in the mornings?”

She felt her face redden. “I… well… um. I didn’t know what to wear this morning.”

“I would have gone with clothes, but I understand that some people are fussier than others.”

“I wanted to look nice.”

“You always look nice.”

“I thought that I always looked satisfactory.”

Ethan cut two pieces of cake and added them to the tray with the coffees.

“I thought we could take these into the bedroom. If that would be satisfactory to you?”

She nodded and he carried the tray to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. He flipped a switch causing the gas fireplace to spring to life. Charley picked up her cake and snuggled back against Ethan. “I like the fireplace here.”

“I don’t often use it.”

“Why tonight?”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Charley turned and straddled his lap. “You better be careful. This company could end up corrupting you.”

“I look forward to it, if that’s the case.” Ethan rolled her unto her back.

Several hours later, Charley looked at the clock. “I should go home. I have to work tomorrow and my boss can be tough if I’m late.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be sure you’re not late,” Ethan buried his head in her neck.

“I don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“You can either grab some scrubs from the locker room or ask your roommate to bring something for you.” Ethan pointed to his dresser. “I cleared both of the bottom drawers for you, if you want them.”

Charley chewed on her bottom lip. “You knew what the outcome of our talk was going to be before we actually talked today. When did you decide you wanted-”

“The night of the softball game, when I kissed you.”

Charley stared at him. “Then why did you keep putting me off when I wanted to talk?”

“Because I kept coming up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. And I decided not to do that anymore. I’m tired of avoiding whatever it is we have.”

“Why do I get the two bottom drawers?”

“You’re shorter than me!” He indicates the drawer on the right. “You actually do have clean clothes in there. What you wore when we went to my dads. You at least have something to wear to the hospital.” Ethan watched her. “Any other concerns for tonight?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yes, but it’s one of the standard ones dentists hand out. It should be fine until we can get you one to keep here.”

Charley put her head on his pillow. “Then I can’t think of a single reason to get out of the warm bed right now.”

He turned off the light and slipped under the covers with her. “Neither can I.”

Tag list (if you want to be on or off let me know) @oofchoices @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @ohchoices @catchinglikekeronsene @aylamreads @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @txemrn @starrystarrytrouble @queencarb @thegreentwin @lion-ess24 @caseyvalentineramsey

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#dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart fanfiction #open heart #choices open heart

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

Text

After Midnight, Pt. 2

Nevada Ramirez x Reader. AN: Fic prompt from lyrics # 8 “tonight the foxes hunt the hounds” as requested by @melsquared79. Cw: alcohol, language, dub-con, smut - rough sex, oral sex, all the sex. Def NSFW. WC: 4K. FYI: this fic was totally inspired by the Camila Cabello song, “My Oh My” which you should totally give a listen to.

***

You shifted in your seat, your eyes staring back into the piercing green eyes of the drug lord in front of you. “And how do you know where I live?”

“I went through your wallet,” Nevada replied casually, as he reached to light up a cigar.

“When?” you questioned.

“After you fell asleep.”

You furrowed your brows. “Do you always give your hook-ups a ride home or am I just that special?”

Nevada pulled you close to him. He ran his finger down your cheek. “Maybe it’s the latter. Is there a problem with that?”

“Y/N, you have had a hard few weeks; you deserve to come out and loosen up a little,” your friend Nina implored. “Lost your job, got dumped –”

“Don’t remind me,” you sighed. “I just don’t feel like going out.”

“Come on – it’ll be good for your soul. Besides – you have been cooped up in your apartment for a week. You look like hell. And you kind of smell like it too,” Nina retorted, her nose crinkling.

“Shut up! You’re demasiado – I do not smell,” you shrieked defensively, half shoving your friend away. You paused. “Wait – do I really?”

“No – you don’t smell. But you do look like shit. So come out, live a little, and then you can go back into your hidey-hole,” Nina replied. “Wear that black dress of yours. The one with the plunging v-neck. I will pick you up at nine. There’s a club in the Bronx that is supposed to be all the rage.”

“All the rage? Didn’t that lingo go out with the ‘90s?” you replied, your brow cocked at her.

“The ‘90s are coming back – you see it all over the stores. Just fucking come out. It’ll be fun.”

***

In the end, you opted for dark skinny jeans, a fitted low-cut black tank top and leopard caged heels. Your hair was tousled, thin hoop earrings hung off your ear and stacks of bangles hung off your wrist. Your heels clicked against the wet pavement. You spotted your gaggle of friends waiting on the line and you waved at them as you approached. The bouncer cocked his brow and waved you over. He asked you for your ID which you quickly produced.

“She’s with us,” Nina replied, resting her head on your shoulder as the bouncer reviewed your ID. He nodded and waved you and your girlfriends in. The music was loud – you could feel the vibrations in your bones. By sheer luck a table in the corner was free and you all quickly claimed it – various purses and wristlets covered it quickly. You pushed your way through the crowd at the bar and opened up a tab. First a round of tequila shots was ordered; a mix of cocktails and beers were followed. Your mind was fuzzy, but you still had a good grasp of what was going on.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of striking green eyes was watching you intently from a balcony from above. It was Nevada Ramirez, the self-proclaimed King of Washington Heights. You were dancing with a friend and seemingly having a good time. A server came by with a tray of shots and he watched as you plucked one off the tray and tossed it back with the flick of your wrist. His eyes raked over your body and he appreciated how well your ass looked in the denim you wore. His eyes trailed up, from the dip of your waist to the soft curve of your breasts. He had never seen you at the club before. He knew thought that he wanted you. “Oye, quién eres tu?” he murmured.

Nevada swallowed the amber colored liquid he was holding and took one last deep inhale of the cigar before he made his way downstairs.

After a few songs, you decided to take a break. You managed to get a glass of water and you sucked it down while you watched everyone else have a good time. You checked your phone and was about to check on what your jerk of an ex was up to when a voice interrupted you.

“Are you bored ma?”

You looked up taken aback at the interruption. “Excuse me?” In front of you was the hottest man your eyes had the pleasure of seeing. You licked your lips and swallowed hard.

Nevada gave you a small smile. “You looked good dancing. And now I see you checking your phone. So are you bored or do you have some boyfriend checking in on you?”

“No boyfriend,” you replied. You looked past Nevada at your friends who were still dancing. “Just checking on the time,” you lied. “It’s late.”

“It’s only after midnight.” Nevada replied. “Things are just starting up.” He stepped closer to you and you could smell the mixture of alcohol and cigar smoke on his person. “Ven,” he continued, motioning with his head towards the dance floor. “Baila conmigo.”

“And you are…?” your voice trailed off as you took in his appearance. Tight black jeans, tight black tank top. His cologne gave off an intense masculine aroma. ‘Goddamn,’ you thought to yourself.

“Nevada Ramirez. I own this club.”

You cocked a brow. “Impressive.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Come. Baila conmigo.”

You paused. You were about to shake your head when Nina caught your eye. “Go,” she silently mouthed. You looked back at Nevada who was staring at you intently. The gold crucifix he wore glinted under the overhead lights.

“No one fucking tells me no,” Nevada snapped impatiently.

‘What do I have to lose?’ you thought. “Okay, su alteza real.” Nevada led you to the dancefloor, his hand concentrated on the small of your back.

A song with a prominent bass line and drum beat played over the speakers. You didn’t recognize the song but you were quick to note how the male and females singers voices wrapped around each other’s – like a silk against the body. Whatever the song was, it was intoxicating - just like Nevada.

Nevada gripped your hip with one hand, encouraging you to press them against his. You rocked against his body, knees bent, you each moving your hips in circular motions.

“Dulce angelita,” Nevada purred in your ear. “What is your name?”

“YFN, YLN,” you replied. Nevada had placed his mouth against your ear, letting his heavy breath tickle your skin. “Well, Y/N, I am here for one thing.”

The dance floor had filled up, pressing you even closer to him. At one point, Nevada spun you to face him. Your faces were millimeters apart, your bodies were slicked with sweat and your breaths were heavy. Nevada watched as a bead of sweat rolled down your décolletage and he followed it as trailed down between your breasts. He growled low. You followed his movements and took a deep breath, arching your chest in his face.

In your opinion, Nevada was walking sex. You weren’t sure if it was just that you were feeling down about your current life situation or the alcohol or a mixture of both but you were suddenly feeling like you could use a good time.

You smirked before responding. “So am I.”

Nevada captured your lips with his. The kiss was rough and needy, all teeth and tongue. You moaned as you pressed closer to him. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended with him pulling away just as roughly.

Nevada gripped the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. “You need to say it mami – use that fucking mouth of yours.”

“Yes,” you replied, asserting your consent.

***

Nevada’s apartment was attached to the club. He liked being close to business. The elevator to his apartment was in the back of the club. To any other club-goer, it looked like a defunct elevator. But it was set up purposely that way. Nine times out of ten, Nevada just took his conquests to his office which was located by the balcony. Hit it and quit it was his motto. And it served him well. Many ladies threw themselves at the King of the Heights – sometimes it was for sex; sometimes it was for money – that he always collected back on with interest; sometimes it was for drugs – sometimes it was for all three. He never took them back to his place. But there was something about you, that Nevada knew was different.

So he broke his own rule.

***

Once in the elevator, Nevada wasted no time. He was on within seconds. His hands grabbed at the hem of your tank top and pushed them upwards, touching your exposed skin. His hands trailed upwards to your tits, cupping them. The kiss between the two of you was open mouthed, hot and heavy. Your tongues battled each other’s, each trying to get more surface area.

Any other time you would have appreciated the bird-cage like appearance of the elevator. The wrought iron was a mix of twists and beams. The ceiling of the elevator had a chandelier that hung off of it with a blue light and the surroundings were mirrored, so the lights bounced off the reflection, creating an ethereal effect. The elevator lurched to a stop and Nevada opened the door.

You both had taken a few steps into the apartment when Nevada pushed you against the wall, again kissing you hard. He used one hand to pin your arms above your head, while the other continued to explore your upper half. Nevada tugged your tank up once more and then tugged down your bra exposing your breasts. He twisted and tugged on a nipple, before he moved onto the other. You moaned as he did so. Nevada broke the kiss again and then dipped his head to a globe. You moaned again as he captured a nipple in his mouth.

“Escuchame atentamente cariño – I am going to make you cum. First with my mouth, then with my cock. Me entiendes?”

You nodded. “Please. Yo quiero tu pinga.”

“You have some amazing tits,” Nevada complimented. “Makes me want to put my cock in between them.”

You groaned at the idea, a jolt of pleasure coursed through you. You could feel your arousal dampen your panties and nodded once more.

Nevada turned you around, so you faced the wall. He pressed himself against you and rubbed himself against your ass in an attempt to give himself some relief from his own ache, which was throbbing.

You could feel how hard Nevada’s cock was and you pushed back, teasing.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered. Nevada took your arms and planted them above your shoulders, so they braced the wall. He reached between you and the wall and unbuttoned the fly of your jeans. Your jeans and panties were pushed down in one movement and to your ankles. Nevada whistled appreciatively. “Look at that ass. Damn mami.”

Nevada wasted no time. His mouth was on your eager and soaked cunt. His hands were firm on your butt cheeks, keeping you spread open. He used the flat of his tongue to lick broad stripes between your lips before thrusting his tongue into you. You squirmed as Nevada fucked you with his mouth. He alternated long swipes with flicks. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.

Nevada paused to breath, licking your inner thigh and sucking a mark onto your skin. He resumed his actions like a man starved. You tried to undulate against his mouth, but he kept you in place. Nevada’s hot breath tickled your clitoris and he snaked two thick fingers inside of you. “Oh Jesus fuck,” you cried out as you felt your orgasm begin to build. Nevada could sense you were close, as your walls began to flutter around his fingers. Nevada removed his fingers and dove back into your folds, shaking his head and humming simultaneously. He continued to tease you to the point where you were begging to come. You started shivering and Nevada knew he found a good spot and he decided to chill there for awhile. You praised Nevada’s actions and chanted his name as if it were a prayer. Nevada slipped his fingers back inside of you and pumped them rapidly in and out of you. The wet slick sounds of his fingers in your pussy, his mouth also there, the friction of his beard on your thighs, it was all too much. You came hard, wailing his name as your cunt clenched his fingers. Your release coated his face and fingers. Nevada drank you all in, he couldn’t get enough.

Your body trembled as Nevada pulled away. He turned you back around so that you faced him and he made a big show of slowly sucking his fingers. “Mmmm, delicioso. So fucking sweet,” he purred.

Nevada took a few steps back, Nevada kicked off his boots and he unbuckled his belt and then shoved off his jeans. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he was going commando. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of his cock. It was long and thick and by your recollection, bigger than your ex’s. His cock was painfully hard, pre-cum oozed from the head. Your eyes met and you nodded. You followed his lead and removed your top and bra, flinging them in one direction. You kicked off your heels as well and then made quick work of your jeans and underwear. You were completely nude. Nevada drank you in. Your body was amazing and he couldn’t wait to fuck you. He took a few steps and he was on you once more, carrying you over his shoulders and to the bed.

He dropped you on the bed and you spread yourself wantonly, rubbing your clitoris once more. You had one orgasm and were eager for more. “Mmm, yeah play with that pussy while you suck this cock,” Nevada ordered. You sat up half-way and propped yourself so you could get to his cock. Nevada brushed his cock against your cheek, before pushing it into your mouth. You moaned as his musky, salty taste flooded your mouth. You eagerly bobbed on his cock, relaxing your jaw to take more of him into your mouth. You used one hand to pump his cock as you traced the prominent vein on his cock all the way to the “v” on the underside. Nevada hissed as he watched his cock slip in and out of his mouth. “Such a good cocksucker,” Nevada praised. “Makes me want to blow my load into the pretty little mouth of yours.”

You nodded. Nevada bucked his hips, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You gagged and spluttered around his cock, your eyes beginning to tear, causing your mascara to run and saliva dribble down your chin. Nevada’s hands threaded your hair and gripped your scalp tightly as he fucked your face, grunting as he did so.

Nevada pulled away roughly and you gasped for air. Your chest rose and fell quickly and you watched as Nevada crawled over to you. He straddled your chest and ran a hand down in the space between your breasts. He cupped your breasts once more, tugging and twisting your nipples before sliding his cock in between. You used your hands to hold your breasts and Nevada began to fuck your tits. Every once in awhile you would jut out your tongue to lap at the head of his cock.

“Mmm I want to cum on those tits so badly,” Nevada groaned as he watched his cock slide in and out. “But I think I want to save that for your pussy.”

“Yes, please come in that pussy,” you begged. “I want it. Fill me up.”

Nevada climbed off of you, and pushed on your side, encouraging you to roll over. You rolled onto your stomach and Nevada pulled you up so you were on all fours. “Do you have…protection?” you panted.

Nevada gave your ass a good smack and you squealed in response. The mattress creaked as he moved off the bed. You heard footsteps, a drawer open, and then the sound of foil ripping. The bed dipped once more with Nevada’s weight. You felt him line his cock along your entrance, and he rubbed against your folds, teasing. You let out an eager moan. “Please,” you begged. “Fuck me.”

Nevada slid his cock into you in one motion, burying himself to the hilt. “Only because you asked me so nicely mamita.” You gasped as he did so, feeling delightfully stretched and full. “Oh God,” you choked out.

Nevada slowly pulled out and then slowly thrusted back in again, letting you get accustomed to his size before speeding up his thrusts, fucking you harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. The tips of his fingers dug into your flesh and you knew you’d be bruised in the morning.

“Oh yes, damelo duro,” you implored. You reached down to circle your clit and Nevada stilled.

“Oh no,” Nevada panted, circling his hips slowly, which elicited a whine from you. “Not yet. Damn mami, you’ve got that bomb pussy. You take my cock so good,” he grunted.

You planted your arm back on the bed and Nevada resumed fucking you from behind. Eventually, he pulled out and sat back on his haunches. You looked over your shoulder, confused.

Nevada pointed to his cock, which was coated in your cream and you nodded, understanding. You took Nevada into your mouth, eagerly bobbing on his cock. Nevada groaned and he reached over to slip his fingers into your pussy. You hummed in appreciation and Nevada growled at the sensation the vibrations caused. He gripped your head tightly, causing you to gag and splutter once more. Nevada pulled up your head tightly, causing you to meet his eyes. His green eyes were dark and full blown with lust.

“Saddle up.” Nevada laid on his back and you crawled over on top of him and began to ride him eagerly. Nevada grunted as he watched your tits bounce. One hand remained on your hips, guiding you and another squeezed your breasts. You could feel your orgasm build once more – quicker than before as you were already at the precipice. “Please let me cum,” you begged. “I am so close.”

Nevada could feel your walls fluttering around his cock. His own orgasm was quickly approaching but he wasn’t ready to come just yet. You were too gorgeous of a creature and he wanted to savor every moment. You leaned back, your arms gripped the tops of his thighs. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes, yes,” you chanted.

Nevada reached up to rub your swollen pink pearl and you gasped once more, your eyes squeezing shut. “I’m going to… I am going to… “

Nevada sat up fully and captured your mouth with his as you came hard around his cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues battled one another’s as you both chased your own orgasms. Nevada’s thrusting became erratic and he stiffened against you as he came hard, grunting your name in your ear. Hearing him lose control caused you to come once more.

Both of you were completely spent and you collapsed against Nevada as he laid back down on the bed. He reached down and removed the condom from his now softening cock. He tied it quickly before tossing it to the side of the bed to deal with later.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep and normally Nevada would have minded, but something inside of him told him this was different – you were different. So he let you stay the night. After you fell asleep, he climbed out of bed and found your purse, quickly finding your ID. He made a mental note of your name and address and then went back to bed. You snored lightly on his chest as he looked you up.

***

“I’m special?”

The car lurched to stop. From the window you could tell that despite the early hours, traffic was starting to build. It would take forever to get home at the rate you were going. But you didn’t mind.

“I get what I want.”

“And what you want is me?”

“I already had you.”

“So, then we should be good,” you replied with a wink. Your phone buzzed and you quickly looked at it, realizing you would need to get back to your friends.

Nevada placed a hand on your leg. “I am a King without his Queen.”

You looked out the window, watching as the light changed from red to green. You racked your brain, wondering how you got yourself into this situation and then went over your other situation. This was messy. ‘To hell with it,’ you thought. You took a deep breath and then turned to face Nevada. “Aside from the sex, what’s in it for me?”

Nevada smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that mami.”

FIN.

Tags: @madpanda75 @melsquared79 @delia26 @amirightcounselor @mrsrafaelbarba @tropes-and-tales @skittle479 @southern-magnolia @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @lovebennycolon @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @glimmerglittergirl @dreila03 @mommakat32 @garturbo @imjustreallynosy @theenchantedgalleryofstories @thefanficfaerie @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @letty-o @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @trekinthruthestarwars @mishaissocoolike @the-baby-bookworm @neely1177 @imagine-all-the-imagines - anyone else just ask, xo!

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aboyandhisstarship · 3 years

Note

i want a foxiyo Pendragon fanfic

ok...but it’s not really my best work, let me know what you think:

Pantora:

Riyo was sitting in her family home, in front of her was a human she had never met before, he was down on one knee saying “Riyo, it’s so nice to meet you I’m Press Tilton, and I have something very important to tell you.”

In his hand was a ring.

years later:

Journal number 15, Coruscant:

SPACE! Now that I have your attention Mark and Courtney, this one is a bit weird; ok in fairness they are all weird. You see this territory, is a not a single planet in an instance in time but a galaxy…like a full on alien life galaxy it is honestly sick.

One rub as there often is, is that this galaxy is in the middle of a civil war, ya I know that screams ol Saint Dane, But so far no signs of him. Of course that does not mean he is not around. This is Saint Dane we are talking about the guy can be anyone.

But let’s get into it. I climbed out of the flume and I was in a concrete style room. So this place is at least slightly advanced.

I glanced to the floor and saw the clothes of this territory. Yea, I was not a fan, in my time travelling Halla I have run into some questionable fashion choices. But this, this was rough.

First was a puffy shirt, a bright pink puffy shirt. Kind of like pirates wear, Bell bottom looking pants with weird metal boots. And a Petty coat looking jacket, as I was getting dressed (leaving on my Second Earth boxers, I have to draw the line somewhere) I was thinking that maybe Saint Dane left these clothes here. I mean come on, I looked like a rejected Pirate in a Disney movie from the seventies, there is no way people actually dress like this.

Underneath the small pile of clothes was a black item, it looked kind of like a Nurf gun, but this bad boy did not fire foam darts, nope…it shoot lasers! Again Pretty cool. But of course my bubble was burst pretty quick after all a weapon meant only one thing, Quigs…god damn it.

I gently pushed open the exit from the flume peaking my head out gun at the ready to shoot any yellow eyed freak I saw, but the room outside of the flume was pretty quiet, it looked some kind of spare parts storage room.

Scattered all around where scraps of metal and wire in what looked kind of like giant plastic boxes. I stepped out of the room closing the door to the flume, it looked like it was built into the wall, the Star was visible, craved into the wall as always.

I kept the blaster close as I crept out of the machine room and there I spotted them, robots! Like something out of Sci fi! I was starting to worry that maybe Coruscant was a territory of all Robots. Honestly that sounded kind of cool but then again, I was not fond of the idea of Saint Dane logic bombing an entire city.

As I crept along trying to figure out how to get out of the machine shop, a robot turned to me…and it’s eyes they were yellow.

Quigs…yea Gulp.

The machine let out a loud chirping and his buddy’s came calling, close to 20 or 30 of them carrying tools of some kind eyes glowing and they were coming for me.

I aimed the gun and pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Now I have not actually fired that many guns in my time travelling the universe, most territory’s don’t have them. I looked to see if I could find a safety like switch, as *ZAPPPPPPPPP* some kind of electric blade sailed past my shoulder, I rolled onto the ground and took off running picking a direction.

For once I actually chose right, the robots were hot on my heels but I saw an opening, where something that looked vaguely car shaped was waiting.

Ignoring the nagging reminder that I left Second Earth before I ever learned to drive I dove for the car thing, A robot jumped on after me but I managed to kick it off. Before I crawled into the driver’s seat saying “oh god oh god, ok pedals?”

I scanned the ground, no pedals; I didn’t see a key like cars on Second Earth.

Then on the steering wheel, ok it was not a wheel, at least not in the way you are thinking of, and more like a yoke, like on planes. Anyway there were two buttons on the wheel I hit them and the Car thing took off hard super hard.

“Woah woah slow down! Uhh breaks!?”

I scanned the controls for the brakes as I pulled up ending up in traffic, as I was bobbing and weaving saying “Please breaks, auto pilot, something anything.”

Now then I heard sirens, great the police…this will be fun to explain.

The police demanded “pull over!”

I called back to the police were on hover bikes along side of me “believe me I would love to, but I have no idea how to drive this thing!”

The cops fired a dart thing at my car and took control, think god.

We gently landed on some kind of platform, Aliens walked by clear as day. And they were dressed more cohertly then I was, as I was looking around before the cop said “sir, we need to see some ID.”

Uh oh, I turned to the cops, they were white armor with red stripes and they were armed, blasters at the ready, I smiled sheepishly “would you believe me if it told you I lost it?”

Another cop spoke “sir, put your hands up please.” It was a different guy from the one that talked before, and yet sounded the same, maybe they were robots.

They aimed at me saying “sir, hands up!”

I slowly raised my hands above my head, as they reached into my coat and pulled out the gun that was left at the flume…I forgot I had that.

I was surrounded as they said “hands behind your head!”

I did and was swiftly handcuffed, great start.

One of them asked “are you with the sepies!?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, well it was coin flip time. “uhhh yes…?”

The cops tensed up, welp wrong answer the officer said “on your feet I think you need to see the commander.”

I was shoved into their car thing as they went a lot smoother then my driving, which in fairness was not hard. I looked around at the active and vibrate city of Coruscant and I noticed the lack of green, I mean New York had Central park, in fact most Big cities I could think of on Second Earth had some kind of Green plants, but here nothing…it was literally all city.

We spent about 5 minutes travelling through the city before we arrived at a building, it was rather bland in design, and made of the same slate material as the rest of the city, I was led inside and shoved into a small room, but not before being searched again. I figured they would take my ring, but they examined and scanned it before handing it back to me and leaving me to stew.

After a few minutes I started to look around, after all I needed to bust out of here, either high tail it back to the flume and come up with a new plan or hopefully dodge the heat.

Well the room was escape proof, or at least seemed that way, so I was stuck there in my pink shirt feeling like a fool.

A few minutes later another cop entered wearing the same armor as the others. I was still not sure if this guy was a robot, he said flatly “my men tell me you are a separatist.”

A Separatist, I thought they said, ohh I guess I should have seen that one coming as I scratched my head “yea that’s me…big Separatist.”

I mean I had literally no other option but to stick to the story at that point, and just hope these guys would not shoot me.

That’s one the guy walked over to the camera in the corner and turned it off, uh oh I had seen enough detective movies to not like where this was going. Then he maundered his armor before pulling out something on a piece of string it was a heavy sliver ring, with a large slate stone in the middle, a traveler ring!

I exhaled “oh thank god, I thought I had really screwed the pooch on that one.”

The guy took off his helmet and revealed a man, he was dark skinned, the closest thing I could think of in Second Earth terms would be the natives of Hawaii.

The guy said simply “my name is Commander Fox sir; I am the acolyte for this territory.”

I nodded “Bobby Pendragon, so what is Saint Dane doing here?”

Fox looked down, the guy looked tired. Honestly I was a little worried as he said “Kriff I have no idea, I mean if he is looking to cause Chaos, then he need not bother.”

He reached over unlocking my handcuffs as I asked “that bad huh?”

Fox nodded “worse, thousands dying a day, millions more displaced.”

I bit my lip, yea this had Saint Dane written all over it, I asked “can you get me out of ya know jail?”

Fox scratched his head “yea I will say…you’re an undercover spy for us?”

I looked at him “will anyone buy that?”

Fox answered “probably.”

Probably probably! I’m looking at whatever the punishment for treason is here and he is hitting me with the probably!? I stood up saying “I sure hope it does, I’m not in the mood to get the lethal injection.”

Fox looked at me before saying “yes I suppose, so you have done this kind of thing before?”

I followed him toward the door “the getting arrested after arriving thing? because honestly, this is a first.”

Fox said “no the, fighting Saint Dane saving the day thing.”

I sighed “honestly…I have lost count I have done it so many times, I mean I win some, he wins some…but every day is a new one.”

Fox pushed open the door “yea that makes sense.”

9 hours later, that’s right guys…it took 9 hours to get out, but when we did I was taken toward a truly impressive building., Fox told me “this is the galactic senate, the seat of government for the republic.”

Again, cool…but my gut was telling me something was off, I mean this territory was at war. The question was why and what role did Saint Dane play.

As we walked through the lavish halls, I saw some oddly dressed folks, Most glared at Fox like he had run over there dogs. And nodded at me like I was one of them. I tried to blend into the background best I could, but it was hard.

After a few minutes we arrived outside of a room. Fox knocked and a second later a voice said “come in.”

The door opened to show a quiet office, inside was a woman with blue skin, she looked to be maybe 20 years old, and her hair was purple she had strange gold streaks along her cheeks. She seemed flustered rushing to meet me.

The girl said “Bobby Pendragon? Press told me all about you, Riyo Chuchi traveler from Coruscant …but you knew that.” She babbled

I raised my hands “pleasure to meet you; you have a nice place here?” Honestly my experice in this territory had not been super positive so far.

Riyo looked me up and down before asking Fox teasingly “this is what you left for him?”

Fox blushed “look…my fashion sense is not exactly.”

I jumped in to cover for him “it’s not the worst thing I ever had to wear on a territory.”

Riyo looked at me asking “oh and what is?”

I answered easily “Eelong, Humans are not considered to be intelligent beings, so they are…well long story short I had to wear rags…yea that place was not fun, almost gotten eaten by a raptor…oh and the Quigs were…”

I looked around the room seeing there eyes start to glaze over, I scratched my head before saying “so you know what Saint Dane has planned here?”

Riyo looked down “I have no clue, he could be anyone…there is a lot of corruption in the galaxy…but there is one woman who can perhaps help us find out who is playing all sides.”

I plucked down on her couch asking “any paper around here, I got to start my journal?” Fox hugged Riyo real deep before leaving…oh looks there is something there, nice.

That’s when I was given the freaking sweet holo recorder I made this journal on Mark and Cortney, I think this one is even better then Veelox? Your thoughts…well as I am writing this, tomorrow Riyo and I am visiting two important types…I am pretending to be from the distant planet of…Bronx, let’s hope they don’t space google it.

The fellows I’m meeting is a Senator like Riyo, Padme something and her secret husband a General Anakin Skywalker, who belongs to group of solider monks…sounds pretty cool. Oh and Riyo tells me they can read minds…great

Miss you guys stay safe

End of Journal 15:

#Foxiyo #Pendragon #first time writing foxiyo...not that there is much of them sorry

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scentedsongrebel · 4 years

Text

CHASE (1)

Pairings: Thief! Bucky Barnes * Thief! Reader (female)

Summary:“Mr. ‘B’ world renounced thief, they call him an artist you see.” He laughs, one devoid of humor and pushes his hair off his forehead as he brings his hand in front of his face, all his fingers touch his thumb to make the ‘fox’ shape from them.

“The beauty with which he crafts his muse. Every robbery a new piece of art. Every stroke careful and planned. Every scheme drawn with precision. He takes pride in his master pieces”.

He shakes his head, his lips setting in a firm line.“For me, well he is just a pity thief. And who better to know a thief than one herself”

Word Count: 3197

Warnings: Robbery, mentions of robbery, Violence, Gun shooting, some cursing…. maybe?

Chapter 1

Dressed in formal this time, he moves through the airport crowd smoothly, without garnering any attention.

He runs his hand through his dark hair, cut short this time to blend in. He also has a little stubble going on which he thinks makes him look years older as he catches a glimpse in one of the design mirrors on the airport walls.

His flight isn’t scheduled for another 3 hours but he likes to be early, prepared and out of the main city as soon as possible.

He hears a young boy arguing over at the check-in counter for a possibility to get a flight before 7 am to which the lady shakes her head telling him the earliest they have available is for 10 am.

The boy runs his hands through his hair roughly as he pulls at the roots moving out of the line.

James (today Robert) moves forward and hands over his ticket and id card getting himself a pass.

He moves to sit on one of the chairs as he waits for the time of his flight that leaves at 4 am. Its 1:00 right now.

As he gets comfortable to read with smugness the article about his achievement and yet another failure of the police, his eyes drift to the news going on on the television.

“Mr. ‘B’ informs CNN of his next target” it reads and James’ eyebrow raises in amusement.

“Just right now” the lady on the news channel says as she sits on the desk at her office “We got a call from the famous thief Mr. ‘B’ informing our news channel of his next target right here in the city-

James folds his newspaper as a smile graces his lips. This is interesting. And while he knows this is a bad idea, he stills looks around.

He always did love a challenge.

—————————

The young boy is suddenly informed of a last minute cancellation and availability on the 4 am flight.

He won’t miss The tennis match.

God bless whoever cancelled last minute.

_——————

Darkness and excess of security. A swap here and running behind the pillar before a guard can turn around, you navigate yourself through the museum before making way towards your target through the AC vents that have been closed for a while but you have your ways. The tiny particles of dust dance around as you navigate through the narrow tunnels.You would have been a sneezing mess if it weren’t for your face mask.

As you wipe the bead of sweat flowing down your chin under your black face mask, you smile at the ease with which you secured your target.

You jump down almost from the top of the room skillfully and look towards the target you were here for.

She’s beautiful. They say she belonged to Cleopetra herself. Gifted to her by one of her lovers. They say her beauty is nothing compared to her owner and suddenly you understand the egyptian men’s attraction for her.

The green diamond shines in the dimly lit room emanating a beautiful glow. For a minute you stay in your position just admiring the beauty before yourself.

The moment last only a short while before you realize your mission and rush you get your hands on the diamond.

“You don’t want to do that”

You quickly whip your head to the source of the voice and look straight at him. Clad in full black shealth suit and a face mask different from yours. While your covers your entire face only leaving a long patch for the eyes, his is more revealing like an eye mask people wear at those fancy parties. His head in covered in a black hat matching both your suits.

He seems to be eating a sandwich. Which he quickly finishes and wipes his mouth with a tissue paper

He stands up pocketing the napkin

“Motion detectors” he points towards the necklace. He then produces a pair of sunglasses “Wanna see?” He asks as he places the sunglasses on your nose so you can see through it

Just as he said red laser lines run parallel to each other around the necklace

“Infra red rays” he takes his sunglasses back “the moment you go to touch the necklace, an alarm would be set off and” he points towards the several gates lining the walls “Atleast three guards from each door would come rushing”

You look at him raising your eyebrows but realize he probably won’t be able to see them because of your mask but he somehow knows you figure going by his smile

“I’m a professional” he stretches his arms “I know how these security dudes think”

You look at him trying to gauge your next move but he is quicker

“You wanna steel it” he shrugs “it’s yours to steel”

You raise your eyebrow again

“Nah this thing is not even on my list” he starts to move closer to you and produces something from the pocket of his skin tight black vest

You quickly take up a defencive stance preparing to reach out for your knife but then he raises his arms in front of you and you realize it’s just a chocolate. He tears the wrapper from his gloved hands and takes a bite

“Oh no need for weapons dude” he says as he takes another bite “I’m just hungry” he brings it towards you “protein bar?”

You shake your head and look back towards the thing trying to decipher your next move. He continues eating

“When you’re done with the analysis just thought I’d tell you, the moment you touch the object, 12 mili-ampere current beams would shoot throught those holes in the walk” he points all around the room “one hit and BOOM paralysis” your eyes widened and he smiles at you taking another bite of his protein bar “temporary hopefully”

You look at the thing again not out of options. This was more difficult than you anticipated. Time to think of something new

He smiles as he observes you going through an internal debate

“Confused” he mocks and you glare at him “you should be, its really a difficult position, I can help”

You look at him with furrowed brows

“Well honey” he mocks “This seems to be a highly one sided conversation. How am I supposed to work this if you won’t talk to me”

You only glare and he finishes the last of his protein bar pocketing the wrapper and zipping his pocket close

He adjusts his mask that only covers his eyes and rubs his hands

“Okay so here’s how this goes” he seems serious suddenly “You tell me why you used my name, I help steel this and its mine cause you used my name and its kinda the main rule of this profession 'you steel it in my name its mine”

He tilts his head and gives you a dark smile that screams trouble and you feel your heart increase its speed

“You may wanna start talking”

You look around amd your eyes suddenly lock on the cctv camera on the top of the room

“Hacked” he says and you turn to look at him “all they can see is this sword undisturbed and right here without us in the frame, we have approximately” he looks at his wrist watch “ 15 mins before they figure it out, so you better get talking”

You look around trying to find a way to catch him off guard but he is faster as he pins you to one of the walls

“Why did you use my name”

His face is really close to yours and you feel your heart rate increase trying to look around but he forces your face to look at him right in the ocean blue eyes

“I-I ” you try to say and he smiles again. You suddenly hate the curve of his lips.

“You?” He mocks and there is a sudden jolt of anger in you at him

You kick him in the shin and catch him off guard moving away from him. He tries to get back at you removing his gun from his thigh holster but you stop him

“Stop threatning and I will talk” he smirks and signals you to continue. You run your hand over your face and continue “I just knew you would be hot and right now, I feel you are hoter than I thought”

He makes a face and you’re sure his eyebrows are raised under that mask

“I mean dude” you move your hands around suddenly excited “You are like the Merly Streep of our world, I mean like totally top, top of the charts”

He smirks at that

“I have always looked up to you” you smile but you’re sure he can’t see it through your mask “I kinda really wanted to meet you and I have a preposition for you and you can’t say no to”

His smirks widens and he crosses his arms “Go on”

“You see like Sherlock needs Dr. Watson, like Cory Mattews and Shawn Hunter, like Chandler Bing and Joey Tribianni, like - like” you click your fingers as you try to come up with more “like like Tom and Jerry everyone needs a partner in crime. You know a little help indeed and well” You motion towards him from both your hands then at yourself “What about a literal partner in actual crime”

He actually lets out a laugh at that and shakes his head

“No thanks”

“What no dude listen” you move towards him “you need me, you maybe famous world-wide but me” you smile “The best of the best locally. Brooklyn has never seen a talent like me”

“I’m just fine by myself” he shakes his head and then moves towards you and bends down so you two are nose to nose “A theif is brilliant only by himself, no threats of betrayal”

Your heart suddenly starts accelerating its speed and you are not sure if it is because of his words or his closeness

“I-I” he turns around and looks at the item

“5 mins left Brooklyn’s best theif” he smirks “Maybe you can show me how good a partner you can make”

You smile at his words and move your hand in through the holes for your eyes in your mask and reach your hand to your hair to pull out a hair pin

“Duck” you scream quickly and he is fast to follow as you both get down on your knees and you throw the hair pin towards the artifact. Several alarms start blazing and just as he said 3 guards each enter running towards the room with huge guns

They corner you both from all sides and you make eye-contact with your fellow theif before you smirk and you are pretty sure he knows you are beneath the mask as you ignore the warnings of the guards to stay on your knees and hands behind your back as you reach for the artefact, clicking the button on your belt that pulls you up towards the vents through the ropes you hand installed and you barely get a glimpse of the guards falling down as the laser beams shoot out and hit them.

You don’t see what happened with the other before you make your way through a different path in the vents you came from and get down towards the back of the museum quickly. Just as you pocket the diamond you hear footsteps running towards you from your right and make eyecontact with a red-head woman not in her uniform but clearly a police inspector

She produces her gun and speaks in her ear-pieve “Steve I have him in the C corridor” She slowly moves towards you with the gun raised “Hands up”

You move your hands up in surrender before there is a gun shot from behind you that hits the red-head right in her hands and she drops the gun screaming in pain.

Before you know it, you body is pushed against thick arms and engulfed and being pulled thorugh the corridors. More officers run down the halls and try to shoot at the teo of you but he is faster and is anticipating each and every move and none even get a glimpse of you both.

Suddenly you are dropped in a corner and and you hear footsteps run away from you. Did he just leave you to run away? What the hell. You feel your pockets and the diamond is gone. Great.

Just as more officers almost reach you, you stand up and decide if you should run before someone has a gun pointed at your back.

“Got him” this guy says to those in front of you through the dark and moves your hand behinx your back and handcuffing “Though he had another one with him, shot officer romanoff, you might wanna catch that one I think he has the diamond”

“You got this?” One if the officer asks him

“Ya” he says “this one seems the weaker one” there is a playfullness in his voice and you immediately recognize that voice and your eyes widen. He moves his head toward your ear and whispers “Be quiet”

The other guys leave to chase 'your partner’ and he guides you through an exit you hand no idea even existed and before you know it you are out of there and quickly pushed in the passenger seat of a car, hands still in hand-cuffs.

Just as he starts the car you get a good look at the guy and your eyes widen as you get a look at the guy in his police uniform and thick mustach. He smiles at you and moves through the traffic. Leaving behind the sirens and commotion around the museum.

“The robbery was brilliant” he says as you hit the highway after a while “perfect in all sense except the running away part, need'ta work on that, you know most important part of being a theif, execution is important and all but if you get caught,everything is in vain.”

“O-okay?” You say now actually really scared and trying to decipher where he was taking you

“Well I’m known for my running away skills and as my partner, you will be too soon”

He genuinely smiles at you and you smile back trying really hard to mask the fear you actually feel in the moment and try to appear excited.

“Also Tom and Jerry were kinda enemies rather than partners in crime”

A small short lived laugh escapes your lips.

————–

“I really thought you betrayed me” The blonde says as he stands besides you at the concert, the music blazing through the speakers

“And go where” you glare at him “not many places left where I could go and your men are not around”

“Kinda need to do that” he shrugs “can never fully trust you not to run away”

“Great makes me feel so special” you say and wince as the rapper takes some verse and the girl besides you loses it, screaming her love for him

“Did we really have to meet here” you ask covering your ears as he continues looking forward and shakes his head

“Crowded places reduce the risk of him seeing you with me and getting suspious”

You nod

“So what is his plan” officer Rogers then asks folding his arms on his chest

“Plans?” You shrug “I don’t know. It has been just 2 days since we met you really think he will tell me every one of his plans?”

He sighs and shakes his head

“And it is all your fault” you hiss through the noice “You were supposed to catch him there I did everything.” You move your hands around exasperated “distracted him with the partner proposal, took the diamond and ran the way you told me to and was even surrendering to your officer”

He glares back “you got her shot, Agent Romanoff is one of my best officers and now she has to go through all these physiotherapies before she can even hold a gun”

“I got her shot??” you look at him disbelievingly “he shot her and took me”

He just shakes his head and you sigh

“Listen he is coming here today so just catch him and let me off this”

“Ya right arrest him for making friends with you cause that is a real crime” he shakes his head “Listen to me carefully Y/N you cannot catch a theif without proof and theifs like him, leave no proof, unless we actually catch him during the robbery we have nothing against him”

You shake your head “What am I supposed to do now after you failed so miraculously”

“Be his partner” your eyes widen “report his every move, his plans, everything back and help us catch him”

“No- I-I can’t do that” you yell through the youngsters singing the rap with the rapper

“Yes you can and you will” he says sternly “Listen I know its hard but now you are deep in it and you are my best chance, also you have to do this if you really want to avoid the atleast 10 year prison sentence which would come if I by mistake provide the jury with your file. Just saying”

His threat almost causes tears to form in your eyes but you hold it in as you cross your arms

“What will he do to me if he finds out” you whisper and even through the noice he hears you

“He will kill you” BOOM the loud screeches of the drum signalling the end of the song accompany his words and you nod trying to hold back the tears.

“Stay in contact” he says and then he’s gone. You don’t even try to see where he went, instead trying to calm your racing heart

It is another song that has kids in front of you going crazy as the singer- you don’t even remember the name- of removes his shirt and throws it to the audience”

A body pushes against yours and this hippy guy with shoulder length hair in just a halve sleeved jacket shimmering in some design opened up to reveal his shirt-less torse (which btw is swoon worthy), his arms bathed in different bracelets and rings smiles at you through his teeth to reveal his lip piercing.

You frown and turn back to look at the stage before he tries to gather your attention again

“Hey its me” your eyes widen and you look at him again and he smiles. You can recognize that voice anywhere

“You changed your look again” you scream as you look around

“Kinda my thing” he shrugs and then offers you the plastic glass in his hand

“No thanks” you shake your head

“Take it” he forces the glass in your hands and you look inside to find no drink in it instead a paper of some sort “Ticket, for the plane and the passport is beneath it, don’t be late”

And with that he is gone just as the singer bids his goodbye.

—————————-

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barns x reader #bucky fluff #bucky imagine

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jonlovessansa · 5 years

Text

OF SANSA, BRUSHING OUT LADY’S COAT - part 2

I’m picking up where I left in part 1, which is Jon staring at Sansa:

As I was saying, it's not random that in their first moment together D&D wanted to highlight, with words and images, his old habit of staring at her. I told you how I think this can be inferred in the books, but while we still haven't got any explicit reference to that, there is at least one “subdly explicit” case that points straight to it. It doesn't make sense? Now I’ll explain:

"Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him. They look as though they belong together. Val was clad in all white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well …but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been A LONG WHILE SINCE JON SNOW HAD SEEN A SIGHT SO LOVELY. "Have you been trying to steal my wolf?” he asked her.“ (ADWD, JON XI)

A woman with DARK HONEY HAIR (which is a shade of auburn) and BLUE EYES, CLAD IN ALL WHITE, a WHITE BEARSKIN CLOAK on her shoulders, HER CHEEKS FLUSHED FROM THE COLD, walks with a WHITE GHOST at her side, a sight SO LOVELY that Jon remembers seeing before.

This undoubtedly symbolizes a marriage: Val and Ghost appear to BELONG TOGETHER and she seems to want to STEAL HIM, which is another way to say CLOAK HIM, id est MARRY HIM, and she is in turn CLOACKED WITH A WHITE BEARSKIN.

Now, Jon refused Stannis offer to marry Val and become the Lord of Winterfell - because “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa” - so it kind of makes sense that GRRM wants to play a little with that. Only, isn’t it a bit strange that we’ve been told that Val has GREY EYES and BLONDE/LIGHT HONEY HAIR?

Why does Val appear like someone else here? Why does a scene that resembles a MARRIAGE look SO LOVELY to Jon? And what is that other sight he’s comparing this one to?

Robb and his snow wet hair helps us again to find it out. In fact, when Sansa is in the Vale, this happens:

Snow was falling on the Eyrie. Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick upon the garden below, blanketing the grass, dusting the shrubs and statues with white and weighing down the branches of the trees. The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood. She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning… and she’d ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her... I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done… She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur…

When she opened the door to the garden, IT WAS SO LOVELY THAT SHE HELD HER BREATH, UNWILLING TO DISTURB SUCH PERFECT BEAUTY. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys… A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here… Sansa wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks… She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams… It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for… The snow fell and the castle rose... It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell… (Petyr) stepped closer… Sansa tried to step back, but he pulled her into his arms and suddenly he was kissing her… "Kissing a snow maid.”… He smiled. “I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You’re crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe.." (ASOS SANSA VII)

I had to cut it because it’s very long, but what I kept should be enough to prove my point: Sansa is a SNOW MAID CLAD ALL IN WHITE and CRUSTED IN SNOW LIKE A BEAR CUB, HER FACE FLASHED FROM THE COLD. She steps into a SNOW WHITE place enveloped in GHOSTLY SILENCE, thus becoming a full fledged part of this SIGHT SO LOVELY that not so casually coincedes with her LAST MEMORY OF WINTERFELL, which is also her LAST MEMORY OF SNOW, when Robb was in the yard with snow melting in his hair… She wonders if she is dreaming because the SNOW all around her and its taste on her lips, it’s what her dreams are made of, it’s what she prays for. She hungers for the days of her innocent childhood in Winterfell, and so she finds herself BUILDING THE CASTLE OF HER DREAMS, aka WINTERFELL, WITH SNOW.

Well, I think we can all agree that there’s a lot going on here, especially if you think that in the same ASOS of this excerpt Jon is called "THE SNOW OF WINTERFELL"... But for the matter of this post, what’s most striking to me is that this sight SO LOVELY that she describes as similar to Winterfell on the day she left, matches perfectly with Jon’s sight SO LOVELY that reminds him of another sight he saw a long while ago... Could it be that we're talking about the same LOVELY SIGHT? Could it be that Sansa is Jon's LOVELY memory? I very much think so!

And I also think the show confirmed it. In fact, speaking of Sansa's marriage, look what D&D sneakily threw at us:

SHE’D MAKE A LOVELY MATCH FOR THE RIGHT SUITOR...

Sansa married to the right suitor would be a LOVELY MATCH! Keep in mind that both Sansa and Jon, the only characters called THE BLOOD OF WINTERFELL, many times in the books are linked to marriage and children, and even more, they even have an HUNGER for it:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb. He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. IT WAS A HUNGER INSIDE HIM, SHARP AS A DRAGONGLASS BLADE. A HUNGER . . . HE COULD FEEL IT. (ASOS, JON XII - CH. 79).

(X)

It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. IT WAS THE OLD DAYS SHE HUNGERED FOR. PRAYED FOR. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me. (ASOS, SANSA VII - CH. 80).

These are two consecutive chapters: Jon admits that he has always wanted to be the Lord of Winterfell, get married and have children of his own blood, and Sansa, in the same passage I quoted earlier where she's a SNOW MAID CLAD IN WHITE, in the same book where Jon is THE SNOW OF WINTERFELL, while praying for those childwood days when she was still innocent - because "CHILDREN KNOW NOTHING" - and she was still able to dream of LOVELY things, is saying exactly the same.

This link is present in the show too (@theirwinterfell made a post about Sansa’s future children mentioned 16 times), even with scenes bound together with obvious intent: for instance, Ygritte teases Jon about being "plucked" by him and then Sansa has her first flowering; or Margery sharing with Sansa her insight about men's "skills" right after Tormund tutorial to Jon on how to pleasure a woman…

But then came season 6, they reunited and we got this (as we will probably have in the text to come):

As many of you already discussed, this is Sansa CLOAKING Jon, so again, another very clear marriage reference, except this time they’re both in the same scene. But this is much more: Sansa doesn't simply CLOAK Jon, she made this cloak herself, she, with her hands, spent time to make a coat for him so he could look and feel like a legitimate Stark by marriage.

SHE WANTS HER WOLF TO LOOK LIKE A LORD AND SO SHE SPENDS TIME TO MAKE HIS COAT BEAUTIFUL AND MAJESTIC.

Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat…

The parallel is blatant: Sansa loved Lady and took care of her, and now she takes care of Jon and makes him a real Lord. He is a bastard no more, and the fact that this meaningful act is so consistent with his last memory of her, it seems crucial to me: she truly cares for him, and he can see that clearly.

Look at him. First he has a moment of incredulity, of WHAT THE F**K JUST HAPPENED…

...and then there is the realization of WHAT THE F**K JUST HAPPENED...

This is, for me, the moment of his complete healing, when he can definitively “KILL THE BOY AND LET THE MAN BE BORN”, because Sansa, when he's at his lowest - “THEY KILLED ME... MY OWN BROTHERS” - gives him more than a purpose, she gives him what he has always been searching for: belonging, acceptance and love. And she does that in the most honest and “Sansa way” to him, ‘cause it’s glued in his heart in that LOVELY image that he kept of her, which is at the same time a symbol of LOVELY SANSA as much as it represents what she and her mother (and I could hence add, the world…), denied to him when he was a child, so it’s not a case that here we have a forshadowing of a MARRIAGE as much as we have an echo of a maternal act of caring.

“He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

This is the moment he becomes a MARRIED MAN, and look how happy he is.

A LOVELY MATCH indeed.

Though the poor guy still doesn't know how hard he's been hit and how dependent of her validation he really is.

There are still some very important things to add, but they deserve specific posts. Hopefully, I’ll find the time to write them.

Thanks for listening!

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa meta #got meta #got #my meta #mine #JONSA TALES

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

All That Glitters {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 1917 words! Hi, okay so this is really a bit of a weird one. It’s difficult to try and demonstrate such a visual medium through, you know, writing. So this is the teaser trailer for Giselle’s biopic that’s being made around the same time as BoRhap, or like, a little bit before. I think I’m gonna make the plot a separate post, so I guess enjoy this trailer lmao. Big Love to @ginghampearlsnsweettea, who I love and would die for, for being the co-captain of this runaway OC that’s gotten much more involved than I thought it would. I’d really really appreciate feedback on it.

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse masterpost]

All That Glitters (2018) | "Midas" Teaser Trailer [HD] | 20th Century FOX

[id: It’s a close up on Young Giselle’s hands playing the piano, playing the opening notes of what is recognisable as Trot, Canter, Pirouette (The Show Pony Song), she is wearing gold nail polish. The background is blurry but it shows a pale cream lounge room, an indistinct painting on the wall, and a beige sofa. Her father sits on the sofa, he wears a pale yellow sweater and beige slacks, and sits with one leg crossed over the other, he’s reading a thick, old book.

[GISELLE’S FATHER] Have I ever told you the story of King Midas?

Young Giselle’s hands still on the keys. The image fades through as the brass and drums section of the song come in and Trot, Canter, Pirouette (The Show Pony Song) plays over the following scenes;

We see a hazy room filled with golden light streaming in through a set of blinds on the right. Giselle sits in the middle of the shot, not facing the camera, on a brown leather sofa. Gold records lining the walls, and in front of her is a large, wooden desk with an ashtray on it, the person behind the desk is blocked from view mostly by Giselle, but it’s Ray Foster; he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

Cut to; Giselle in a classroom, studiously taking notes. It’s mid afternoon, the light coming in hitting her face is a pale, cool yellow; mid-afternoon sunshine. She sits at a pale wooden desk, hunched over, wearing a soft orange sweater, but her pants are not visible. She’s surrounded by other students, all in greys and beiges, all taking notes; she stands out, vibrant amongst them. She looks up sharply, as if to take more notes and we cut to;

She’s sitting alone in a dressing room, looking into a mirror lined with golden bulbs; her hair is slicked back, she’s wearing a white silk slip dress; she’s wearing eyeliner and red lipstick, and is looking at herself a little disbelievingly. She turns to look over her shoulder, as if hearing her name; the camera pans to follow the movement and;

The camera keeps panning, keeping the movement kinetic as we see her on stage, looking back at her band with a nervous smile. She’s wearing a black velvet bouffant number, and the band are all dressed in black waistcoats ensembles with red pocket squares matching her lipstick. The camera pans around until it’s behind Giselle and she’s silhouetted by a warm white light against the darkness. After a beat, the lights come up on the audience to reveal a full house cheering for her.

Cut to; the lights are down on the audience but it’s a close shot of John Deacon watching her from the audience with an expression of awe, stage lights shining in his eyes; he’s on the very right of screen in the foreground. He’s near the middle on the bottom level of the theatre, the people in front of him as all standing, dancing together, some are jumping trying to get her attention. Giselle in the background, out of focus, is swaying to the music, eyes closed as she sings.

We see a wide shot, John and Giselle facing away from the camera, with Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, and Brian May in that order facing them. They’re in a rehearsal room, space half setup with a drum kit at the left of screen, a guitar case on the floor to the right of Brian, and a bass leaning up against the wall. The walls are dark wood varnish and all four members of queen are wearing pale or white clothes. Giselle wears a yellow sundress, her shoulders are tense.

Close shot of Giselle and Freddie shaking hands, both in profile, Freddie grinning and Giselle wearing a small smile.

Cut to; Giselle in Ray Foster’s office, the light is still golden, coming in through the blinds, but Giselle looks relaxed, her hair slicked back and wearing a black blouse and pencil skirt, one leg crossed over the other, arms out across the back of the brown leather sofa. She wears a smug smile.

[RAY FOSTER VOICE OVER] I’ve never had a single go gold like this before.

[GISELLE] It’s a blessing and a curse.

The music starts to really pick up as we get into the chorus, overladen with shouts of various and indistinct reporters as we fly through various headlines (‘A GENERATION’S INFATUATION WITH MEDIOCRITY’, ‘STEALING FROM ROYALTY’ accompanied by a picture of Giselle and Freddie having lunch together, ‘“JAZZ ROCK” PERFORMERS, POINTLESS AND PANDERING?”) and interviews with various people (‘The Secret Life of Giselle’ a very smug looking former assistant smiles at the camera, sitting primly as she’s interviewed. / ‘She Should Be So Lucky’ an angry reporter in a suit rants at the screen, flicking back and forth between the video of Giselle’s ‘the should be so lucky’ comment. / ‘Songbird of a Dying Genre’ interviews with critics (all of them old white guys) who just wave her off and roll their eyes.)

We zoom out of this final clip to see a wide shot of Giselle sitting at a desk at the very right of the screen, lit by the warm white light of a lamp while the rest of the room is lit by the cool blue light of the night sky streaming in through a large set of glass doors that separates her from the television that’s running the slander piece on her.

Close up over her shoulder reveals her to be writing the lyrics for Dinner and a Show and the music seamlessly transitions into a fast-paced version of Dinner and a Show as she rips the page from her notebook. The page moves to cover the screen for a moment and when it comes away we’ve transitioned to;

Giselle in her first performance at Top of the Pops, singing to a cheering crowd. She’s wearing a black, floor length slip gown with glass beaded detailing, and black gloves with red glitter and sequins on the hands, reminiscent of blood. Giselle belts along with the music as the song ends and there’s an extreme close up on her lips, painted red, with red glitter trailing from the corners. She takes in a shaking breath. The cheering grows louder, drowning out the final notes until it becomes overwhelming, and we can see that Giselle is still breathing hard, shaking a little. The sound and the picture fade out.

[GISELLE] (She sounds tired, a little forlorn) Everything I touch turns to gold.

It shows a close shot of Roger Taylor smiling mischievously at something on his left, he’s holding a cymbal in one hand and offers the other.

[ROGER] Is that a promise?

Cut to a shot of Giselle, standing up and looking over him, smirking and raising her eyebrows at him.

[GISELLE] (far happier, a little amused) I think it’s a threat.

Wide shot; she takes his hand. Trot, Canter, Pirouette (The Show Pony Song) picks up as soon as their hands touch. The song slowly gets faster over the following images.

Smash cut to the two of them on stage holding their joined hands above their head as they take a bow, in slow motion, facing an arena crowd in the middle of the day. Brian, Freddie, and John stand either side of them, but they’re the only two holding hands. Queen, again, is very casual attire, pale jeans and t-shirts and singlets, and Giselle wears a blood orange cocktail dress, off the shoulder, fitted until it flares out around her hips, falling just above her knees.

Cut to Giselle leaping into Roger’s arms wearing a white, flowing dress, and him in a fitted black tuxedo, he spins her around, kissing her passionately, and the camera spins the opposite way around them. They’re outside, under fresh green trees and dappled sunlight.

Cut to; Giselle and Roger are sitting on either ends of a sofa, their backs to the audience, watching the Rolling Stone Reporter pace back and forth, talking animatedly; the setting is a lot like Ray Foster’s office, however the decor is all modern, slick and white, and the fluorescent light bathes them all in a cold white light. Giselle and Roger share an amused look.

There’s a top-down shot of the two of them lying side by side in bed, but not touching. The bed is large with cream coloured sheets that are slightly tousled and plain white pillows, there’s a lamp on either side, illuminating them both in a peachy-gold light. Giselle wears a pair of pale blue pyjama shorts and a matching singlet top. Roger’s wearing a pair of tight black jeans and an open fringe vest. Neither looks happy; Giselle is contemplative and Roger is frowning. Giselle turns to look at him and the light around the room starts shifting until it’s made clear that these are two different shots side by side, spliced together. Roger reaches up and turns off his light, the whole room bathed in blue light, and he sits with his head in his hands at the edge of the bed. Giselle is still looking at the point where he was, squinting as a few golden-orange rays of a sunset hit her face. Roger looks up, as if he hears something, and walks out of shot.

Cut to a camera whip-panning to a moment during Freddie’s birthday party. Freddie stands in the middle of the frame, back to the camera, wearing his military jacket and ostentatious crown. The world around them is bright and joyful, with gold lights overhead, and the crowd in brown, yellow, and orange attire, but Giselle is wearing a midnight blue cocktail dress and a silver shawl, and Roger’s wearing a white blazer with blue shirt underneath. Freddie is standing between both of them in the foreground, separating them visually, and both look shocked, but Giselle doesn’t even look at Roger before she stalks off camera. He chases after her, both of them heading to the left and we crash cut to;

The music cuts out and we hear and see a door slam in Roger’s face. He’s still in the same outfit as the previous shot, but he’s put in sharp relief by the cold white light of a streetlamp, the rest of the world a dark grey-blue behind him. We fade to black.

A golden spotlight fades in with the first notes of Ache being played on piano, and the very faint roar of a crowd. All that can be seen is Giselle, illuminated by the singular spotlight, wearing a cool-toned copper, crushed velvet slip dress, tears in her eyes, everything behind her is a void of darkness. She’s holding a microphone, taking deep, shaking breaths.

[YOUNG GISELLE VOICE OVER] It sounds like he got everything he ever wanted.

Giselle takes a deep, shaking breath, closing her eyes, the sound of the crowd roaring and of Ache’s beginning dies down and a singular tear escapes her eyes.

[GISELLE’S FATHER VOICE OVER] Yes, but at a terrible price.

She opens her mouth to sing but we cut to black.

The title card; “ALL THAT GLITTERS” lights up in a block font, with lights in the letters, reminiscent of a Broadway sign. We hear Giselle sing ‘I feel the ache, feel the ache, feel the ache.’ but it’s just her vocals, ghostly, echoing, and a little ethereal. End id.]

#roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bo rhap #borhap #borhap imagine #and all the queen's men #giselle x roger #the angry lizard writes #queen

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daydream-hobii · 6 years

Text

Roses & Thorns | Chapter 20 [FINAL]

Genre: Hybrid!AU, fluff, angst

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x Female!Reader | Alpaca!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Fox!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Bear!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Bunny!Jungkook

Summary: Y/N is a rehabilitator of hybrids who have been abused or being sold for auction. It’s an illegal thing to do, but she feels strongly that this is the right thing. For many years, she has saved hundreds of hybrids who have needed her help, even for her young age, and six of them decided to stay with her. Namjoon, who was the second saved, initiated an intimate relationship, which Taehyung, who was the first saved, wanted in on. Over time, some of the hybrids that came after the two wanted to join in on the relationship. Now, Y/N has saved a very rare fox hybrid named Hoseok, who is very curious and even more broken. He has the choice to stay with these people and maybe join their relationship or move on to a rehabilitated district where he can have a life of his own. What will he choose?

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Assault, Suicide & Mental Illness! Read with Caution <3 | Suggestions of Smut? (I’m not good at writing smut, so it’s just implied… ^_^); Profanity; GORE!!

Word Count: 1,225

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19 //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 20! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love getting feedback! I hope you enjoyed it!!! ^_^

**5 Years Later**

Since we were all rehabilitated, life has been so much easier. Everyone worked, and our home became a point to help the newest hybrids find places to live and get jobs. Actually, our big family got a little bigger.

I sat in the garden that Jimin recreated to look like the one from home, an eight-year-old girl running over and sitting with me. How was she so much older? We adopted her after finding out only three of the boys were sterile, and it was already difficult to get pregnant.

“Mom, whatcha reading?” She questioned, looking into my book.

“Oh, just a small book. What’s up darling?” I questioned, eyeing her.

“Some people made fun of me at school,” He grumbled, looking into her lap. I placed my book down, looking sad. This girl had black hair, and she was a human, her brown eyes looking so sad and pitiful.

“Oh, baby, what did they say?” I questioned, making her turn to face me.

“They said it was weird I had seven hybrid dads… and only one mom. They said I didn’t belong here…” She said, biting her lip.

“They did what?” Jin asked, walking through with a little hybrid boy with cheetah ears and a long tail. He was six and clung to Jin like cling wrap.

“Dad,” The little girl said, embarrassed.

“No, sweetie, you need to tell Yoongi,” He replied, sitting with the little boy who swatted his ears.

“Tell me what?” Yoongi asked, entering with Hoseok, who carried another little girl hybrid who had red panda ears and a bushy tail wrapped around Hoseok’s waist. She was about four, and already in love with Hoseok.

“She’s being bullied,” I replied, making a sad face as she stared at me, frowning. “Baby, they would’ve found out anyway.”

“What? Why,” Yoongi demanded, making me give a small glare.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She said quietly as Yoongi walked over, kneeling besides us both, Yoongi placing a hand on my knee.

“They said it was weird to have seven dads, and that she doesn’t belong,” I said. Before Yoongi could blow up, Jimin stomped through.

“No way! If anything, you’re twice as lucky!” He shouted, making the poor girl flinch. I grabbed her, setting her on my lap.

She was always a lot closer to Jimin and Yoongi than the other boys, while the little boy hybrid clung to Jin and the little girl hybrid loved Hoseok. Taehyung walked in with another human boy who was about ten, looking happy as can be. He loved Taehyung and Jungkook the most, and always liked to play video games with them.

The only one who didn’t have someone to cling to him was Namjoon. He was kind of the big, bad dad. The leader of everyone, the one who did the dirty work, the grounding. I felt so sorry, because Namjoon is the one who wanted kids the most and is the one who even suggested trying. It’s not that they don’t love him, the children loved all of their parents, they all just had preferences.

“I can talk to the principal tomorrow,” Namjoon said, walking over and kissing the top of her head. “Don’t worry, baby.”

“Thanks daddy,” She mumbled, hugging him and running to get the other human boy to play. I saw a spark of happiness ripple through eyes, and the other two children ran after them, playing not too far from us.

“Baby, did you ever hear from the doctor?” Hoseok questioned, looking concerned.

“Doctor?” Jungkook asked, wide eyed and walking to us. “Why? Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yes, Kookie, I’m fine. I just haven’t been feeling too good the past couple of months, I went to make sure I was okay,” I said, smiling. My phone went off, and I smiled at the ID. “Speak of the devil. Hello, doctor.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I have wonderful news,” She said, making me squint my eyes. “You’re pregnant.”

“What?” I asked, wide eyed. Namjoon and Yoongi, who were closest to me, went wide eyed as well. The other boys just looked confused. “Are you joking?”

“Not at all. You’re a couple months along, which explains the menstruation lose and the uncomfortable state you’ve been in. From what it looks like, you’re going to have twins, but it’s too early to confirm. By the rate they’re growing, at least one is a hybrid, so you may have them sooner than nine months,” She said, and I gripped Namjoon’s hand, who had so much hope in his eyes. The only fertile ones were Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon…. I think Hoseok and Jungkook kind of gave up a year ago, but Namjoon always wanted to keep trying.

“Can you confirm the hybrid?” I asked, a couple tears falling.

“From my data, it’s a wolf,” She said, making me ungrasp Namjoon’s hand and put it to my crying eyes. “Tell Namjoon congrats for me, along with the other boys.”

She hung up, and Namjoon knelt in front of me, eyes filled with hope and love. He grasped my cheeks, not saying a word, but asking millions of questions.

“I’m pregnant,” I cried, making the other boys circle around us. “With possible twins.”

“What?!” Jin exclaimed, smiling bright. “That’s great news!”

“Namjoon, it’s gotta be yours, right?” Jungkook asked, eyes bright.

“Maybe by blood, but it’s all of ours,” He said, tears streaming as he hugged me. “We’re adding two more to this family.”

“Ones a hybrid,” I whispered, making him pull away in surprise. “They’re growing faster, so they’ll be here sooner than nine months.”

“Oh my god, we have to prepare!” Namjoon said, standing up and grabbing Jin and Taehyung. “We’re going out. Baby, I’ll send you pictures, you have to rest, stay here. We’ll be back with supplies.” They ran off before I could say a word, making me chuckle and shake my head, wiping my tears of happiness.

“You’d think they’d be used to it by now, after having four,” I said, chuckling. Hoseok picked me up bridal style, making me yelp in surprise.

“You’re not walking, I’ll carry you everywhere,” He said, protectively.

“Oh no, not you guys too,” I said, giggling.

“Dad, why are you holding Mom up?” The human boy asked, running over.

“Kids,” I said, making Hoseok set me down. I knelt to their height, a protective Yoongi and Jimin hovering over me. “How do you feel about adding two more family members?”

“Like, from the shelter?” The hybrid boy asked, eyes excited.

“Not exactly,” I said, pointing to my belly. “There’s two in here.”

“You’re pregnant!” The human boy and girl shouted, getting excited.

“Are you going to get rid of us now…?” The little hybrid girl asked, tears falling.

“Baby, no,” I whispered, pulling her into a hug. “You are all a part of this family, just as much as these two. Our big family is just going to get a little bigger.”

They started to get more and more excited as time went on. I couldn’t help but reminisce on the past. We were all so broken, came from such broken households, and we were able to find each other. Everyone is similar to a rose with thorns, you just need to get past the thorns before you get witness the rose.

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tired--nb · 6 years

Note

tell me about your ocs. al of them

sdjfjhsgd?? really?? i have alot so i hope its ok that i just talk about my two new ones and maybe an old one of mine also its under cut because i have no idea how long im gonna go on oof

Ok lets start with Lynn Evans ((imma recap what i said in the other post for my own sake sorry jahf)) She is a 15 y/o first year at U.A. She started going there while Mydoria was a second year. Her homeroom teacher is Present Mic (at least for now idk how sure i am on the decision) and like I said her quirk is Singing boost. She can boost anyone with in ear shot so she in battle would have to stay back and help her team from afar and through mic so that villians can hear her, and when dhe is boosting weather it herself or others he loses a lot stimina. Depending on the tone (or sometimes even the words) of a song itll boost different things and the best way she can tell is doing a small test with her brother with each new song she decides to sing. She is a trans girl but no one at U.A. but her homeroom teacher and the principle know. She socially transitioned after middle school and before she went to U.A. Though when she told her parents her mom fliped her fuckin shit and was like ‘I didn’t rase my son to be a pussy and I expected better from you how could you do this to me’ and left Lynn and her dad the next day her dad was completely understanding though he accepted her and said he will do everything in his power to help her. And because hes a tattoo artist they have a little pact that when she overcomes a big obstacle of being trans he puts a small music note on her wrist she right now has 8! This was also out of her suggestion because shes always wanted music note tattoos and this way they have a lot of meaning to her at the same timeOk about 2 years later her dad decides to adopt another kid and that when he goes and adopts Joseph. When they first got him they were told he was quirkless and they were ok with it but turns out he had a quirk he just really hated the foster home he was in so he just never used it out of spite for them. And like i said his quirk is orbit.This means he can make anything (under his 10 lb weight limit) orbit him like a satellite when he touches it with the palm of his hand! And if he wants it to stop orbiting him he can either just grab it or fling it out of orbit but when he flings it he cant control the speed and it can get pretty dangerous. Then when he hits his limit his vision get blurry and its hard for him to hear so he tries his best not to hit it. Also orbiting animals makes he tire quickly.Also his palms have the area that activates his quirk a lot darker than the rest and everyone just thought it was vitiligo but nope just his quirk lol Then he looks up to his sister and Uravity alot His sister because he sees her as like the strongest and best person ever then Uravity because their quirks have alot of similaritiesThen as for Lynn’s Dad and mom i dont have a ton of info on but ill say what i do have!Her dad, Steven, has the quirk boosting touch that he uses while he does tattoos so that they both hurt less and heal faster! Though his quirk only works when he has a fully hand on the person and its only for that limbThen her mother, Sophia had the quirk lullaby which puts one person (the first to hear her) that hears her into a haze like stateOhh then Lynn looks up to the Wild Wild Pussy Cats alot and wants to be on a team like them! Tiger is her favorite because hes a transboy (canonly!!!!) and it makes her feel alot better about herself knowing there are other trans heros. Then personality wise Lynn is the quiet type that keeps to her self only really talking to her friend Micheal, though once you get her talking or rived up about something its alittle hard to get her to shut up lol then she also had bipolar depression and takes meds for it She also has been taking martial arts classes since she was 5 and is shes a purple belt at the moment! Anyways if theres anything else you wanna hear about her or any of her family hmu this was mostly just me info dumping to hell and back lmao

honestly the rest of my ocs are old and not nearly as developed oof i mean i have a lavender pearl that worked for a high class gem and was very fuckin gay for pink diamond, then i have an old oc that is a fox human hybrid named Renee and was originally a undertale oc that had a huge crush on sans (cringy i know leave me alone i was like 11), and then all of my trolls i made forever ago and just dropped oof, I also have an old creepypasta oc named neono that wore neon colors and was obsessed with fire lmao, then i also have the characters that were gonna become a game/comic but the other person who was working on it with me left ;; Baer had lot of development but id have to explain the entire game to explain it and teddi had some too but he wasnt my character to expand on oof then tom was mine and hes just a murderer. Then i also have an oc thats a demon and she had all her limbs cut off and her eye jabbed out so her demon form has floating limbs and is a cyclops now that i think about it she was p developed too damn i know she also had a glass prosthetic arm from the elbow down and the knee down

Ah anyways i went on for a long time sorry about that also sorry if i pitied you into sending me an ask about it thats a shitty thing to do i was just really annoyed and i apologize for itbut legit thank you so much for sending this is made my day oof??? sorry if it makes no sense

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kenzieam · 6 years

Text

Lost Girl - Chapter 9 (Eric and Fox)

Rating: M (swearing, violence, smut, blah blah)

Genre: Drama/Angst

******TRIGGER WARNINGS - mention of TORTURE, ABUSE AND RAPE********

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt @treeleaf @beltz2016 @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling @sparklemichele @vitaevandal @micolegg @frecklefaceb @jaihardy @bookgirlthings @queenara4 @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itschibi @elaacreditava @lilu46 @tonyt1995 @jojogoo65 @littlesouthernrebel @sterek-foreverandever @kirstenisntkirsty

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A huge thank you to my beta and Jai-sister @iammarylastar ! Quelle equipe!

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What happens if Fox disappears, and is returned to Eric two years later, but is not the same woman he loves???

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“Fuck,” he breathed and staggered again, reaching out to press a hand against a wall until he no longer felt like passing out. I killed my son… I burned my own child to death! With a ragged groan Eric stumbled upright, the closet door was open and Fox’s clothes were disturbed. Eric shivered violently and reached for his hoodie, only to see that it too was missing.

Running on auto-pilot now, his mind still too stunned to fully function, Eric grabbed his cell phone and hammered in a number.

“Control room, Mur-”

“Leader Coulter, access code 432069,” Eric barked, interrupting. “Scan all cameras for location of Faction ID code 9273, LaRue, Fox! Do it now!”

Eric paced restlessly as he heard keystrokes in the background. Finally, “Citizen 9273 left the compound 19 minutes ago sir.”

“How the fuck did she get out?!” Eric roared.

“Sir, her containment order was lifted this afternoon by Dr. -”

“Shut up! Get the Pedrad brothers on the line and tell them to get their collective asses down to Central Security ten fucking minutes ago! We’re deploying a search team!” Eric stabbed at the phone, bee-lining to the door, pressed it again to his ear.

“Max.” The head leader grunted, obviously still nine-tenths asleep.

“Max, I need you in Central Security.” Eric slammed his door shut, sprinted down the corridor, still pulling his jacket on, his jeans not fully buttoned.

“The fuck, Coulter?” Max groaned.

“Fox took off, we need to start a search.” Eric smashed the elevator buttons and took the opportunity of the car’s descent to finish dressing.

“She’s not confined to the -”

“Goddammit Max!” Eric all but screamed, “get down to Central Security!” Without waiting for an answer he disconnected the line and hammered in another number. “Zeke!”

“Eric.” Zeke’s voice was dry. He’d been friends with Eric since initiation, he knew better than to ask about what was going on.

“Assemble your men into a search team, Fox left the compound and we have to find her.”

“She okay?”

“No! Why the fuck do you think I’m looking for her?!”

“Alright! Deep breaths man, you’re going to rupture something.” Zeke got an earful of fierce growling before the call cut off. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eric paced like a man possessed, he’d been running on adrenaline, little sleep and nerves for the last fifty-six hours and his stamina was coming to an end. Max stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest.

“We need to keep looking!” Eric snapped.

“No. It’s been two days. She’s gone Eric, she wanted to leave this time and you have to accept it….. I can’t spare the man-power anymore.”

Eric stabbed a hand irritably through his hair. “I’m not stopping. I’m going back out.” He met Max’s glare with a challenging stare of his own and the two leaders faced off.

Max wanted Eric to accept this defeat, wanted to tell him that if he left right now, he could never come back to Dauntless, but he knew without a doubt that Eric would turn and leave in a heartbeat, and Max would be forced to follow through on his threat, losing both his prodigy and chosen successor, so he said nothing. Eric leveled one more challenging glare at Max then turned away, striding to a small personnel truck. He didn’t look back.

Max sighed heavily and spun on his heel. He was never going to see Eric alive again.

Eric drove aimlessly, his mind too distracted to follow any plotted course. His tortured thoughts were focused on what he had just lost; his soulmate, and now the child he’d not even known he’d fathered. Even after two days anguish crushed his chest and made it hard to breathe, the agony of learning he had murdered his child having not abated in the slightest.

Worse than that however, was the knowledge that Fox, the only woman in the world he loved, the only person he had ever shown that secret side of his heart to, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with now hated him, had run from him when she’d learned what he’d committed, accidentally committed, but done all the same.

Eric found his attention wandering back to when he first saw the fiery redheaded Amity transfer. The first jumper of the year, she’d laughed in exhilaration as she landed in the net, then rolled out and confidently chose her new identity, her new name, her new life, Fox. She’d never looked back, and Eric had been hopelessly devoted, unreservedly bound to her right from the start. His heart, silent and cold his whole life, now awakened and issued a single word decree.

Mine.

His body, satisfied with unattached sex and meaningless brief relationships of convenience, now demanded only one thing, one person to sate it’s need. The familiar stirrings of lust and tightening in his groin that Eric had experienced in the Pit and the bars when a pretty girl had looked his way and winked were gone, he would respond to only one now, his body, his mind, his soul wanting only her, only Fox.

Eric knew indefinitely that he was changed, was vastly different from the man he’d been before Fox. That man had been able to survive, no thrive, alone, cold-hearted and unreachable. The man he was now was heart-broken and lonely, his soul blackening and dying without Fox’s light shining on it. Eric didn’t know what to do next, would he return to Dauntless, continue as a leader, albeit a shell of the one he’d been before, end his days a lonely bitter old man, having lost the only things important to him? Or would he just stay out here, in the ruins of the city, until his body caught up with his heart and just stopped?

Familiar landmarks made him slow down and concentrate. He recognized charred remains and his heart lurched. He was here, his subconscious had driven him to his son’s final resting place, the burned rubble of Reo’s lair. Stopping the truck Eric simply sat behind the wheel for a long while, staring with haunted eyes as the blackened debris, the twisted beams and crumbled walls.

Against all hope and known facts about fire, Eric closed his eyes and prayed that his young son’s death had been quick and painless, the smoke stealing his breath as he slept, but, deep in his heart, Eric knew that couldn’t be true. His son had thrashed and twisted in agony, screamed as his flesh blistered and blackened, as flames charred his helpless body, as Reo had screamed and thrashed. His son had suffered the same as Reo had, and while Eric didn’t give two shits how much pain Reo had felt, the thought that his own child had suffered too threatened to steal Eric’s sanity. He deserved to die, he deserved to suffer and burn for this, no child should ever feel that, should ever be subjected to that level of torment, especially not at the hands of the very person who was supposed to protect them. Forget the accident, if Eric had stopped to think, stopped his knee-jerk reaction and just fucking paused for one fucking minute, he would have spoken to Fox, learned of his son’s existence. ‘Why didn’t you talk to me first?!’ would be the words that would haunt him to his grave.

Eric exited the truck and his feet moved of their own accord towards the wreckage. Reaching the crumbled walls, Eric continued, stumbling and tripping over debris as his mind dragged his body through a replay of hell. His ears now heard not only the anguished animal screams of a scarred-face man burning alive, but those of a baby as well, his own flesh and blood shrieking in agony and sanity-stealing fear as the flames roared.

Eric reached what he remembered as the rear of the structure and kicked aside a pile of debris. The remains of a stuffed bear, scorched and torn were uncovered and Eric froze, a stab of breathtaking pain shooting through his chest. Reaching down, he picked it up gingerly, brushed off some of the soot and pressed the bear to his chest. Dropping his head, he let the tears he’d been holding go and they dropped onto the bear’s head, darkening the sooty fur. Compelled to further torment himself Eric kicked aside more debris and staggered, barely catching himself to keep from falling when he uncovered the blackened remains of a small crib. The mattress and anything that had been laying on it were gone, the fire had been too hot, left only the skeletal remains of the crib’s railings and, clutching the bear to his chest, Eric stumbled away, overwhelmed, nearly hyperventilating, this was the place, he was standing on his child’s grave. He would never forgive himself for this.

He didn’t make it far, sitting heavily on a cement block just outside the pile of burnt rubble. From here he could still see the pieces of burnt crib. Eric reached to his belt and held up the object he found there.

It was sleek and beautiful, his sidearm. Black grip, polished metal barrel, traditional .45 caliber, this was his only friend now, the companion that would grant him peace. He stared at it for a long time, admiring it’s lines, tracing a finger along the familiar curves. Eric knew that the pain he was in, the mental anguish was never going to get any better. He would forever be tortured, or more accurately, would forever torture himself with the memories of this. Losing Fox, finding her after two fucking years of sorrow and grief, fighting to get her back, then losing her again when she discovered what he’d done; burned their child, murdered their son. Accident or not, their son was still dead, and his blood was still on Eric’s hands.

Eric cocked the pistol thoughtfully and gazed at it for a long while, resting it in his lap. He wanted to die right now, wanted an end to the pain, but he knew he didn’t deserve it, didn’t merit the easy way out. He needed to live the rest of his miserable life remembering what he had done and what he had lost. Uncocking it, Eric set the weapon on the block beside him and drew one knee to his chest. Wrapping his arms around it he dropped his head, resting his forehead to his knee and started to cry.

His mind refused to be quiet and continued to replay his special hell, to pull his flesh across the rusty teeth of regret and soul-crushing grief. Memories of Fox played in his head, a continuous film loop of sorrow. The way she smiled, a smile only for him, her kaleidoscopic eyes gleaming with mischief, or languid pools of bottomless love as she stroked his jaw, straddling his lap as he sat back against their headboard, their bodies slick with sweat after making love. The softness of her skin under his calloused hand as he lay beside her and trailed his hand down her body, bumping along her ribs before rising up the curve of her hip, then pulling her to him, their lower bodies fitting together perfectly; her intoxicating scent, the taste of her on his tongue. The way they murmured sweet words to each other as their bodies strained together, joined as one; the sweet nibbling kisses she’d feather along his neck tattoos, the insolent way she’d gently bite and pull his bottom lip, just to elicit a playful growl from him. Even the quiet way she’d lay against his chest in the early morning hours, her exhalations warm and tickling his skin, the faint breathy sighs she’d give as she slept. Fuck, Eric would kill for her, had killed for her… but he’d gone too far and this new miserable existence was his limbo, his eternal, personal hell. He stood, intended to walk away, but his legs gave out and he stumbled, falling to his knees. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

An unknown amount of time passed, it could have been five minutes, it could have been five hours. Eric honestly didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t return to Dauntless, there were too many memories there, too much to remind him of what he’d had and lost. Eventually, he knew, Max would activate the tracking device on the truck he’d taken, and a team of Dauntless soldiers would appear, but Eric would be long gone by then.

“Eric?”

Eric’s head snapped up in shock. This wasn’t real. His mind had conjured a wretched hallucination.

Fox stood a few dozen feet away, staring at him in amazement.

“Fox?” Eric gasped, stumbling to his feet. His entire body tingled with surprise and desperate hope. Eric tried to move and lost his balance, falling heavily to his knees again.

Fox was clutching something to her chest and Eric recognized his favourite black hoodie. Fox shivered slightly, whatever she was carrying was more precious to her than her own warmth and comfort.

Disregarding their surroundings, the circumstances that had brought them here and the huge wedge between them Eric stumbled back to his feet and launched himself at Fox, scrambled towards her and stopped just feet away, panting, legs still shaking with weakness.

“Baby,” he whispered, the word a benediction, an appeal, a heartbreaking plea. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he waited for Fox’s reaction. Would she slap him, scream at him, call him a murderer? Would she pick up his gun and end his miserable life? Fuck it, he didn’t care right now, Fox was alive and standing in front of him, that was all that mattered to him right now. His body ached to touch her again and he reached for her, pulled her tightly into his arms, shuddering as their bodies connected, as the last few days of sorrow and uncertainty began to melt away. He was never going to fucking let her go again.

A small whimper from within the hoodie answered him and Eric stared down at the bundle uncomprehendingly. He looked back up at Fox, saw the same tears on her face, the same plea for forgiveness. He took a step back in shock.

“Fox?” He couldn’t make sense of this, it couldn’t be-

Fox pulled aside the collar and Eric saw soft blonde hair, large, familiar stormy grey eyes staring back at him. Eric glanced at Fox, dumbstruck before looking back down at the child in her arms. The tears came faster as he stared at the child, saw undeniable similarities between them, the same broad forehead, the same nose, the same full lips. Finally he dragged his attention away from the boy and back to Fox. She was crying, Eric reached up and cupped her cheek; she began crying harder, began to bow forwards and Eric pulled her into his arms, pressing the child, his child, between them.

“Fox?”

“I’m so sorry Eric,” she whispered, tucking her head under his chin. A full body shiver ran through her and Eric looked up quickly, zeroed in on the truck. His arms weren’t enough right now.

“C’mon baby, come warm up.” He said softly, leading Fox gently towards the vehicle. He opened the passenger door and helped Fox climb inside, then shut the door and ran around the front, his pulse racing with disbelief, with shock, with near-delirious joy. Scrambling inside the cab Eric reached behind the seat and carefully tucked a blanket around Fox then started the truck, throwing the heater on full blast. He gathered Fox back into his arms and held her tightly, their son snuggled securely between them. There was a long beat of silence as Fox’s shivers slowed and gradually stopped. The boy began to squirm in her arms.

Fox ducked her head and murmured to the boy in her arms and Eric’s fists clenched with the desperate desire to draw away the blanket and hoodie, to see his son alive and well. Seeing his struggle Fox pulled away the hoodie, exposing a small boy, no more than a year, a year and a half old tops, snuggled against her. The child glanced at Eric then turned his head back to Fox and babbled something. To Eric’s untrained ear it sounded like ‘daddy’ but that couldn’t be possible, it was his own desperate longing he heard, the child wouldn’t recognize him.

“Yes,” Fox murmured to the boy, smoothing soft blond curls from his forehead. “That’s your daddy.”

Eric shivered, a visceral tremble as powerful emotions swept through him. He had recognized his child right away, and his boy had known him too.

“Would you like to hold him?” Fox asked quietly and Eric nodded, hardly daring to breathe. Moving out from behind the steering wheel Eric watched in amazement as Fox pulled the hoodie fully away from his son and lifted him gently into Eric’s arms. A shuddering sob tore through him as his hands touched his son for the first time, as the boy’s body, feeling so delicate and goddamn small, settled against his chest. Eric stroked his hair, laughter now joining his tears and pressed a kiss to the boy’s hair. He rested his cheek to the top of his son’s head and closed his eyes, surrendering to the absolute bliss of the moment. The boy snuggled closer, his small hands beginning to pull at the tabs and pockets of Eric’s vest. After a moment his small hands reached up and began to stroke wonderingly at Eric’s cheeks, rasping curiously against the stubble. Eric hummed in contentment, damn near purring like a big cat. His son giggled at the sound, at the deep rumble in his daddy’s chest.

When Eric opened his eyes again Fox was watching him, tears wet on her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Eric.” She murmured.

“For what?” Eric smiled down at his son, traced the back of his finger across his cheek.

Fox winced, “I should have said something sooner,” she whispered, lowering her head and wringing her hands together. Eric pulled one hand away from his son and covered hers, squeezing gently. “But I was so confused for so long…. and until we were up on the roof I didn’t trust you, didn’t really trust anyone yet…. I had to wait for the bracelet to be removed so I could sneak away. The old woman that took care of him while Reo…. needed me…. had instructions to kill him if anyone but me or Reo came for him. I knew if I said anything you’d send half of Dauntless out looking.”

Eric smirked and, lifting Fox’s hand, pressed a kiss to the back of it. She was right, nothing would have kept him from looking for his son.

Fox continued, holding Eric’s hand to her face. “Reo always wanted him close, so when you told me where you’d found him I knew our son was here too, hidden. Did you see that? The secret room in the wreckage?” Eric nodded. “Kazia said she took him when she heard the gunshots, ran away and hid. When you told me that you had burned this building down, I thought the worst… but I had to make sure and I had to go alone. So I ran out when you were sick and started looking in all the places I could think where Kazia could be hiding.”

“I thought you hated me, I thought I’d lost you forever,” Eric whispered, and Fox reached over, brushing the fresh tears from his cheeks.

“Never,” she replied. Leaning forwards she pressed her mouth to Eric’s and he returned the kiss with equal desire, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Pulling apart they rested their foreheads together for a long moment, until a small hand reached up, brushing Eric’s cheek.

“Da-ee?”

Eric pulled away laughing and looked back down at his little twin. Dropping his head Eric pressed feather-light kisses to the boy’s face, making him squeal and squirm, squawking ‘da-ee, no!”

Fox smiled at them, at the fearsome, nightmare-inducing Dauntless leader playing so gently and affectionately with his son. The little boy loved it, squirming in his father’s powerful arms, belly-laughing like he’d known him his whole life.

“What’s his name?” Eric asked, pulling him closer to his chest as the boy started to yawn, rubbing a massive hand up and down the boy’s back, his palm nearly eclipsing it.

Fox quirked one corner of her mouth. “The factionless don’t name their children unless they survive to their second birthday. He was born seven months after I was captured, so he’s not there yet…. but I’ve been calling him Hex.”

Eric smiled and looked back down at the tousled blonde hair curling against his chest. “Hex Coulter.”

Fox returned the smile. “Hex William Eric Coulter.” After a moment Fox blinked, jolting out of her reverie. “Here,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “You move over here with him, I can drive.”

“Do you remember how?” Eric teased.

“No, but how hard can it be?” Fox shot back, laughing.

It didn’t take long for Fox to get back in the groove, but Eric hardly noticed. He was leaned back against the seat, gazing down at his son, Hex, sleeping in his arms. Delicately Eric traced a finger along his son’s face, but pulled away quickly when the truck jolted sharply, hitting a pothole in the road.

“Sorry,” Fox muttered and Eric watched Hex carefully, the jolt had woken him up and Eric was expecting tears; but Hex’s grey eyes landed on Eric and a huge grin split his little face, exposing a whole mouthful of perfect little baby teeth.

“Da-ee!” Hex cried happily.

“Hex!” Eric cried back, laughing.

Fox glanced over as Hex dissolved into giggles. Eric’s massive hand was gently cradling the boy’s skull while Eric leaned over, blowing bubbles against Hex’s belly.

Eric laughed against his son’s skin, inhaling his baby scent and felt something let go inside himself. He felt the pain and agony of the past few days, fuck, of the past few years break apart under the sunshine of the little boy in his arms, under the warmth and light of his mother, his Fox, beside them, his family finally complete; and fresh tears, this time of bliss, of peace and happiness began to trail down his cheeks. Hex frowned up at his father and clamoured with a toddler’s unsteady determination to stand on Eric’s lap.

“Da-ee, no,” he chastised, wiping clumsily at Eric’s face.

Eric chuckled, reaching up and curling his hand into the back of Hex’s soft blonde hair. Hex patted Eric’s cheeks and giggled at him, not intimidated in the slightest by this giant of a man feared by most of his faction.

Fox watched Eric interact with his son as she drove, as he tickled him, kissed him all over his little face, made the little boy shriek with giggles. Although Hex’s uncanny similarity to his father was evidence enough, the way Eric and Hex had bonded instantly was irrefutable proof of the child’s paternity. He’d known right from first glance that this man was his daddy, and Fox had seen the same in Eric’s eyes, the instant awareness that this was his son, his child.

Hex was again winding down, yawning and curling securely against Eric’s chest by the time the compound came into view. Eric stroked his cheek gently as he said, “I’ll have Kazia accepted into Dauntless, I owe her for keeping Hex safe.”

“No,” Fox shook her head, glancing at Eric.

“Amity then?”

“Nowhere, she doesn’t trust the factions, she fears them…. I’ll make sure food and supplies get sent out, but I doubt I’ll ever see her again, she’ll stay hiding until she dies.”

Eric looked down at his son, and nodded reluctantly.

An hour later Eric lay stretched out on his, their bed, with Fox beside him. They faced each other, and little Hex lay between them, snuggled up against his daddy’s chest. Eric’s large hand was reached out, stroking gently across Fox’s cheek as they gazed at each other.

Upon arriving back at Dauntless all three Coulters had been hustled by a relieved Max to the infirmary for a cursory check-up. Hex had awakened again and shown pure Coulter attitude, submitting to the doctor’s examination only under his own terms, and only when he was secure in his daddy’s arms. The doctor had been surprised to find Hex in good health, only lacking basic vaccinations that faction infants received at birth as due course, and factionless children fail to receive at all. Little Hex had been a brave boy, showing Dauntless spirit by refusing to cry as he was given the shots, only whimpering slightly as he pressed his face into Eric’s chest. Once finished Eric had herded his new family home, protective as a guard dog, while Hex watched his new surroundings with wide eyes. After a quick shower and change of clothes Eric had beckoned Fox to lay down with him, setting Hex gently between them. The boy, only half-awake, had sniffed the sheets and, finding his father’s scent, sighed, confident that he was now home, and safe. His little fingers curled against Eric’s bare chest, his head resting over his heart.

Fox watched them with glistening eyes. She deeply regretted not telling Eric earlier about their son, she’d had her reasons, confused as they had been; but everything had turned out fine and they were now together, father and son unbreakably linked.

Eric gazed down at Hex, the King Lion at home with his pride, gentle and tender with his child and mate. His hand, large as Hex’s head dropped down from Fox’s face to rub slow circles on the little boy’s back and Eric glanced up at Fox with a toothy grin as Hex mumbled something in baby babble before falling silent again.

Fox reached out her hand and Eric stopped rubbing Hex’s back, slid his hand into hers. Their eyes met and held, a wordless conversation passing between them and Eric smiled at her, utterly content and at peace.

Fox glanced down at the blonde head tucked against his chest. “Ready?” She asked, but she meant so much more than the literal now, she meant their new life together; Eric’s new role as a father, their fresh start after so much agony and pain.

Eric knew what she was asking and smiled as he pressed a kiss to his sleeping son’s head. “Yes,” he replied. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Four months later

“Da-ee, da-ee, I two!” Hex exclaimed proudly.

“Yes you are buddy!” Eric laughed, sweeping his little doppelganger up into a circle, drawing a shriek of laughter from the little boy.

“Mom-ee, I two!” Hex shouted happily from Eric’s arms, squirming, holding his hands out to Fox. Fox hurried to him, planted wet kisses on the boy’s cheeks and laughed as Hex wailed indignantly. “Mom-ee, no!” The little boy, already fit for a leadership role, hell, for full command of Dauntless pointed at his mother then up at his father. “Da-ee.”

“Kiss daddy?” Fox asked, laughing.

“Ya!”

Grinning at each other, Fox reached up and pulled Eric’s head down to hers, pressing her lips to his. They couldn’t help themselves and what started as a quick little peck dropped instantly into a passionate and deep kiss. Pulling apart, Eric and Fox pressed their foreheads together, panting, eyes locked on each other, dark with lust and promises of the pleasures that awaited them tonight, once Hex was asleep.

Hex decided that this was enough and pushed at Eric’s chest. “Da-ee,” he protested, and his parents pulled apart with a reluctant chuckle.

They had slipped back easily into their relationship these last four months, deeply in love, soul-mated and fitting together perfectly. Fox’s new engagement ring sparkled on her hand, and Hex was telling everyone he saw down in the Pit or in the playground on the family side of the compound that he was going to be the ‘ring-bear’ and hold his mommy and daddy’s rings when they got ‘marr-ee’ soon.

Hex giggled as he watched his parents gaze at each other and he pointed at Fox excitedly.

Eric’s free hand drifted down and tenderly cupped the slight bump of Fox’s belly, they’d learned today, on Hex’s second birthday, that he was going to be a big brother and Eric’s bliss had found new heights, a whole new damn stratosphere. Fuck, he loved this woman, he loved his son, and he already loved their little peanut. He would do anything for them, nothing was off-limits when it came to his family.

“Babee!” Hex cried happily.

“Yes, buddy,” Eric murmured, leaning into Fox and nuzzling his cheek to hers. “Baby.”

#eric coulter #jai courtney #divergent #eric coulter fanfiction #eric divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #eric and fox

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scapegrace74-blog · 7 years

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Fictober Day 13, 1013 Words

This seemed like such a good idea at the time. I have a new appreciation for joining words. And halfway through I went back and took all of the hyphens out of the compound words. I had plans to re-arrange these into something closer to a poem, but you’re going to get them a la stream of consciousness, because it’s been a long day. Happy birthday, Fox Mulder! Tagging @fictober @today-in-fic and @txf-prompt-box.

Sloe eyed. Insomniac. Whippet hipped. Loyal. Irreverent. Iconoclast. Ever questing. Brutish. Gentle. Anchored by tragedy. Incisive. Blunt. Trenchcoat wearing. Squinty. Empathetic. Bull headed. Empty handed. Chestnut haired. Chisel jawed. Verbose. Mute. Explosive. Imploding. Battle weary. Inquiring. Patrician. Mythic. Doomed. Icarus and Daedalus. Childless father. Orphaned son. Wry. Cleft chinned. Mole cheeked. Mossy eyed. Arrogant. Gentlemanly. Starry eyed. Star searching. Star crossed. Sarcastic. Sincere. Sister bereft. Clotheshorse. Bruno Magli loafer shod. Lapsed Jew. Worshipful. Basement hermit. Porn aficionado. Supple limbed. Atlasian. Byronic. Jungian. Dual fathered. Single minded. Absent minded. Plangent. Notorious. Slob. Meticulous. Curious. Questioning. Travel weary. Relentless. Sleepy blink giver. Dreamer. Loner. Divorcee. Masculine. Donnish. Recalcitrant. Fleet footed. Soft handed. Basketball enthusiast. Point guard. Cerebral. Banal. Distracted. Myopic. Long lashed. Plush lipped. Sculpted. Sartorial. Pedantic. Open minded. Seeker of truth. Myth believer. Ghost hunter. Monster chaser. Mutant mirandizer. Cher dancer. Downy haired. Bronze skinned. Outcast. Alpha male. Intuitive. Spooky. Magdalen college attendee. Boston Brahmin. Magnanimous. Long boned. Short fused. Atheist. Believer. Defiant. Well read. Well versed. Butter fingered. Cancer defying. Courtly. Charming. Crush inducing. Impervious. Huge hearted. Vulnerable. Outreaching. Defensive. Green eyed. Blue eyed. Grey eyed. Hazel eyed. Alien apostle. Apostate. Abductee defender. Abductee. Apocalypse prognosticator. Overbite. Sharp tongued. Promise-keeper. Victim. Prosecutor. Wire tapper. Unexplained light chaser. Forever to the heavens drawn. Teena’s favourite. Bill’s choice. Skinner’s bane. Sofa sleeper. Desk jockey. Pencil launcher. Driver. Passenger. Mutineer. Compass true. Doubt defier. Expectation defier. Death defier. Handsome. Puckish. Elven eared. Hedgehog haired. Broad shouldered. Runners’ knee. Gunshot scar. Iliac crest. Vengeance driven. Forgiving. Kind. Socially stunted. Id dominant. Narcissistic. Scholarly. Prodigal son. Apollo. Zarathustra. Agrippa. Penitent. Old soul. Grief weary. Alarm tripper. Yarn unraveller. Convention abstainer. Can’t leave well enough alone. Confidante. Late-night caller. Ramparts defender. Wide net caster. Hither and yon-er. Navigator. Lost. Lost Boy. Persistant. Alarmist. Defeatist. Nomad. Comfort spurner. Journeyman. Stargazer. Holder of the scales of justice. Libra. Bay Stater. Island-born. Civil servant. Per diem claimer. Leash yanker. Foolhardy. Sensual. Hedonistic. Ascetic. Self-deprived. Orpheus in the Underworld. High browed. Obscure. Shadowed by tragedy. Priapic. Apologist. Burden ridden. Weighted down by his past. Future fighting. Abstinent. Uxorious. Lean flanked. Navel gazing. Profiler. Impatient. Hospital patient. Institutionalized. Committed. Devoted. Stolen childhood. Arrested adolescence. Brave. Gambler. Betting against the house. Quixotic. Romantic. Impulsive. Guitar riffing. Pun loving. Filial. Solitary. Self-abnegating. Daring the hounds of hell to bite. Soulful. Poetic. Mystic. Gnostic. Apocryphal. God denying. Forsaking. Forsook. Forward charging. Backward glancing. Target sighting. Co-worker. Colleague. Muscular. Intellectual. Reliably unreliable. Perpetually late. Up early. Literate. Fish caretaker. Dog disliker. White whale chaser. Pole star navigating. Aesthete. Perpetually injured. Tall tale teller. End time foreteller. Extra-terrestrial stalwart. Conspiracy theorist. Led around by his past. Hopeless quest upholder. Genie releaser. Delusional. Visionary. Oracle of doom. Occultist. Traditionalist. Vatic. Psychologist. Partner. Lover. Beloved. Right-handed. Heavy-handed. Heart on his sleeve. Monotone. Laconic. Faustian. Equivocal. Explicit. Dirty-minded. Bearing a cross. Holding a grudge. Holding a torch. Brain surgery survivor. Pinpoint focussed. Middle-aged. Sensualist. Risk taker. Undercover agent. Undercover boyfriend. Supplicant. Empath. Crisis survivor. Depressive. Mr. Potato Head imitator. Childish. Childlike. Ageless. Agnostic. Senior agent. Prophet. Fearless. Soulmate. Endorphin chaser. SSRI prescription filler. Danger magnet. Brooder. Pouter. Casual disregard for personal harm. Hare-chaser. Reformed skirt-chaser. Monogamous. Dream analyzer. Lamaze class partner. Zombie guardian. Cautious Millennium celebrator. Talks a good game. Trips over his tongue. Trips over his feet. White man trash talker. Anarchist. Calamity inviter. Gazer. Gazee. Eye candy. Ass model. Honourable. Dutiful. Playing the long game. Self-mockery expert. Suffering no fools. Garbage can tantrum thrower. Hallway pacer. Elevator rider. Highway voyager. Co-pilot. Co-conspirator. Friend. Protector. Unrequited admirer. Requited suitor. Abandoned husband. Angel and devil all at once. Elegant. Fit. UFO pursuer. Singular pursuit. Undissuadable. Barreling forward without thought of ramifications. Forever weighing the cost of consequences in the aftermath. Owner of an empty fridge. Keeper of an empty bed. Custodian of a gold necklace. Throwing effort after foolishness. Noble. Rat trap connoisseur. Monograph author. Peering into the abyss. Walking the tightrope of lunacy. Masochist. Diffident courter. Passionate significant other. Fragile mental health. Held together by Spackle and faith. Falling apart in slow motion. Giver of unsolicited kindness. Ouster of the Syndicate. Weekend scruff. Cellphone addictee. One-liner fan. Mutato correspondent. Compassionate. Long memoried. Bombastic. Can read you like a large print book. Disdains self-analysis. Is his own blind spot. Fanciful. Internet casualty. Grey t-shirts. Low-riding pants. Well-cut suits. Exile from happiness. Sacrificial lamb. Perfectly imperfect. Freckles over his shoulders. Heroic quest. Martyr. Gulag escapee. Red Speedo. The loneliness of the long distance runner. Paracelsus. Platonic ideal. Socratic method. Sagacity. Auto-erotic asphyxiation. Sinful. Black leather couch. Late model Ford. Sees his sister in starlight. Full of ruth. Opposer of a living will. Scornful. Truthful. Confrontational. Contemptuous. Fighter against chauvinism, cronyism and reductionism. Approachable to women, children and oddballs. Expert in alien abduction lore. Volunteer for a hopeless war. Restless sleeper. Nightmare sufferer. Super Soldier punching bag. Accepter of his fate. Junk food consumer. Pizza delivery man. Occupant of Apartment 42. Fugitive from justice. Fugitive from romantic entanglement. Provider of an IVF donation. Keeping the light on for a miracle. Speechless entrant into Scully’s bed one lonely night. Has only one one in five billion. Comes back from the dead for her sake. Walks away from her without a second thought to protect their son. Can’t believe he is someone’s constant or touchstone. Uncooperative. Audacious. Smug. Aloof. Mad swagger. Can doubtless back it up. Thoughtful. Weird. Geeky. Awkward like a half-grown puppy. Makes an end run around propriety. Rankine’s law of potential energy in the flesh. Gifter of rare smiles and frequent grins. Has a 40,000 word vocabulary and an Oxford degree. Still is speechless in the face of his love for Scully and their son. Holds himself to a higher standard than anyone else. Has never been disappointed in only one person. Expected to spend his adult life alone. Managed to make his expectations come to pass. Can’t find the strength to stand up and fight without Scully in his corner. If asked to name the most important moments of his life, would answer Scully, William, Scully, Scully, Scully. Happy birthday, Fox Mulder.

#fictober #my writing #x-files

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tatooedlaura-blog · 7 years

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Twenty-second Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth … Fourteenth … Fifteenth … Sixteenth … Seventeenth … Eighteenth … Nineteenth … Twentieth … Twenty-first … Twenty-second … Twenty-third

———————–

I have to mess with the timeline again but I need another Christmas in here before Maggie dies so I’m putting one in and shifting the rest of the timeline … sue me … 8^)

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Maggie had lay down the law with his previous year’s Christmas gift. It was a smartphone, a simple one, one without a camera on it, one attached to her cell plan, one that she insisted he keep on now because she was getting old and if she fell, he would be the first one she’d call and he needed to be reachable at all times.

He tried to argue but she shut him down, good-naturedly and with mother’s love abounding but still, she told him to be quiet and do as he was told. He’d fought her but she was more stubborn than her daughter had ever been and much scarier so he relented, taking her at her word that she’d be calling him at random times just to check that it was on.

It didn’t annoy him.

It made his heart beat a little faster, however, at the prospect of something on in his house at all times that wasn’t ‘firewall-paranoid-Frohike would be proud, technologically protected from everyone in the world who was not him or Scully or Maggie’. He did, once he got home, stare at it for a long while, power it down, felt the crushing guilt of having turned it off, turned it back on, plugged it in in his office, shut the door, went to bed, returned five minutes later to retrieve it because he had sudden visions of Maggie falling down the stairs, Maggie burning the house down, Maggie getting in an accident, Maggie showing up to read him the riot act for having turned it off in the first place.

It took until the next morning for him to use it to call her with one simple response to the whole situation, “why wouldn’t you just call Scully? She’s closer and can sign forms and stuff and won’t need to wait for a cab to get to you.”

Maggie honestly had no idea it would take him this long to figure that out and she laughed, “just leave it on, Fox, for me.”

He did.

Now he called her like a normal human being, she called him and somehow, Scully began calling him … not often but at least once or twice a week, sometimes just to see if she had any mail there or if he was doing okay or if he needed anything …

Scully’s standard mode of caring when she wasn’t sure if she could handle admitting she cared.

He accepted the erratic thud of his heart when he saw her name flash on the caller ID and the second thud as he hit the accept button. It returned to its normal beat two minutes later when she deemed the conversation over, having satisfied some nameless need buried deep inside for another few days.

He accepted this, too.

&&&&&&&&&&&

They hadn’t eaten a meal together in nearly two years but Maggie had called about a dripping pipe and Mulder had come, even though it was a Wednesday and Scully had dropped by unannounced because it was Wednesday and not Tuesday and the moment she saw him, soaking shirt with a wrench in his hand and he saw her in a messy ponytail, keys dangling from the Apollo keychain held precariously in her teeth while she tried not to drop her purse and what looked like Maggie’s mail, her mother/his adopted mother felt a spark in the air, a flutter in the ozone, a blip on the radar and breathed a sigh of relief because, regardless of what may have happened between them in the last 24 months, the magic was still there, sleeping but stirring awake once again and palpable in her freezing living room.

“Dear, would you shut the door, please? Fox is going to freeze solid and I don’t think he’ll enjoy that.”

Scully quickly gathered her senses, dropping keys and mail, shutting door, opening door again to retrieve dropped keys before finally standing up, blowing stray hair from her eyes with a sudden puff upwards, “sorry. I just … wasn’t … sorry.”

Maggie nearly giggled but managed to contain her glee at her two people finally in a room once again, “it’s fine. Come on in. We were just about to have some dinner. Fox came over to fix a pipe that was dripping.” Twisting her hands gently, “old things don’t grip quite as well as they used to.”

Mulder scrambled out of the way, “yeah, sorry. Come on in. I’ll head out in a minute, just need to find a dry shirt.”

“Fox, I promised you dinner and you are staying. I’ve made your favorite so you don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

Shrugging but smiling, he looked at Scully, “she really enjoys ordering me around.”

Returning the smile before quickly looking away, “she does it out of love.”

“She must adore me something fierce then.”

Tentatively touching his arm as she passed, “she does.”

Dinner itself wasn’t as awkward as it could have been but there were definitely moments, moments of dead air that pressed down, compressing the spine and shoulders, back hunching involuntarily under the weight of the silence. Scully excused herself to the bathroom in one moment … Mulder to blow his nose in another … both stood in unison for the third to bolt then both smiled shyly for a moment before turning their looks to a Maggie simply shaking her head, “we need some dessert and music. Dana, go find a decent station on the radio for me, please.”

All in all, it was a happy night, all three parties going to bed at ease with the world.

&&&&&&&&&&

Maggie had her normal, raucous Christmas with the family, sans Charlie and Bill but with enough grandchildren and grand nieces and nephews to fill her house to cacophonous capacity. She had invited Mulder but he was nowhere near ready for that and politely declined, telling Maggie he’d be around on the 27th with her gift and to help her clean behind the oven and refrigerator. Instead, he settled with an orange cat on his lap, a bag of Cheezits so if some got on the animal, he’d never know and six bottles of ice tea and root beer.

Nearly asleep, with the cat ninja-like attempting to steal snacks from the open box, he startled awake at the sound of a quiet knock on the front door. Jerking upwards, the cat, the crackers and two empties clattered to the floor, the yowling cat jumping immediately to the coffee table to give Mulder a piece of her mind at the disturbance.

He ignored the cat, optioning to panic at the midnight rapping at his entryway. Peering cautiously through the front curtain, he saw Scully’s car and pulled the door open immediately, “what’s wrong? What happened? Is Maggie okay?”

His intruding presence, inches from her, panic look on his face made her smile, arms automatically going to his chest, pushing him back slightly into the house and out of the freezing wind, “we’re all fine, Mulder, I promise.”

Next he pulled her further in, shutting the door, softest touch of coiled steel to her forearms, “are you sure?”

“Yes, honest, I swear to you. She’s fine. I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. I left there about a half-hour ago and everybody was just going to bed.” Still bundled in her coat and knit rainbow stocking cap with the tassles on top, her pink cheeks peeking through her matching rainbow scarf, “I just wanted to come wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Studying her for another second, he deemed her honest and let out a sigh, “you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. Truly. I didn’t think. I should have called to warn you.” He saw the doubt at her side excursion creeping into her eyes, which began darting around the room, then angling towards her escape, “I can go though. Sorry … sorry again.”

Finally smiling in her direction, “get in here. I need help drinking my root beer.”

Raised eyebrow met crinkling forehead, “root beer?”

“No liquor for me anymore. Interferes with the meds.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded over his shoulder, “me and Flab share us some of that fine New England root beer every so often. Keeps us young.”

Hearing her name, the cat jumped from table to couch to end table to chair back to Mulder shoulder in silence, perching as if she were queen of the kingdom and Mulder was her throne. Scully laughed, “Flab?”

He scratched the cat’s chin, “Flab.” Finally remembering the rest of his manners, “shit, sorry. Would you like to stay?”

Great debates raced through her mind, even as she was shrugging out of her coat, stuffing scarf and hat into her sleeve, “for a little bit.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Twenty minutes later, they were settled on the couch, Scully on one end, Mulder on the other, Flab stretched to maximum capacity in the middle, head pressed against his thigh and feet pushed against hers. The TV was on but mute and making the darkened room glow blue, “so, don’t hit me for this but I can’t ask your mom and I’ve been wondering for awhile now … what the hell happened with Charlie?”

Scully could only shrug, picking at the label of the bottle in her hand, “nobody really knows. Mom won’t tell me, Bill talks to him occasionally and can’t get anything out of him, Sarah, while she loves us and is around all the time, we’ve stopped asking because it just makes her cry and that bothers the kids and so … we just … ignore it, I guess. The kids bring him up sometimes and we all are fine with that but usually it’s just to say what they used to do with him or something he would have liked.” Turning her head and resting it on the couch, “I hate to say it but it’s like he’s died and we’ve moved on but he’s still alive and we don’t know how to move on.”

Moving his hand to touch her automatically, he discovered his reality a moment too late and instead of hanging there like an idiot, he nonchalantly dropped his hand to pet Flab instead.

Scully was not an idiot and knew what his hand movement had been about though she couldn’t fault him since her body anticipated the touch, craved it and standing up, she turned, then sat on the table, knees touching his, bottle still in hand, although not for long. Setting it down beside her, she let her fingers float over his denim, loose fitting cotton over hard thigh. She didn’t move any further up than just past his knee but it felt warm and comfortable and right.

“Scully?”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Mulder. I know it can’t but I haven’t touched you in centuries.”

His hand drifted to cover hers, digits between digits slipping in divots and dips. Fingerprints circle knuckles, palms against backs as his thumbs finally settle softly against wrists, “I miss you everyday, Scully. Every hour, every minute, every second, every millisecond and whatever the hell comes after that.”

She couldn’t begin to echo the sentiment, even come close to how much she missed him. Needing to break eye contact with him before she came apart completely, she looked around the room, letting the emotions settle, “not decorating this year, I take it?”

Beginning small circles on the softest skin known to man, he felt the delicate tendons under her skin, the underside of her wrist his sole dream in that moment, “I haven’t decorated since you left. I didn’t see any point to it. Have you decorated?”

Truth bubbled up, threatened to pour forth in a torrent of painful, hurtful words but a quick intake of air shored up the dam, “no. Haven’t been in a Christmas mood the last few years. I do well at Mom’s but I go home and I don’t want that there.”

“You don’t want what there?”

Shit, she couldn’t stop it now, “I don’t want that sense of permanence, the notion that I’m going to be there long enough to have to go out and get more decorations, pack things up and put them within easy reach for the next year. I’m not ready for that. I want a place that is mine but I’m not ready to call it my home yet. Decorations are for a home, Mulder, not a stale apartment in the city.” Tears pricked her eyes but always the expert at pushing through them, she blinked rapidly, although not fast enough to hide them completely, “I will someday but not yet.”

Checking the clock and seeing they still had about a half-hour, he squeezed her wrists lightly, “what do you think about decorating now? We could put up all our regular stuff and make this place look like it used to.”

Suddenly, she missed him so much her chest ached, a stabbing pain across her breastbone reminding her she did indeed have a heart, still broken but very much there. Fighting the logic racing through her brain, she nodded, “I’d like that.”

&&&&&&&&

Slipping into old habits instinctively, Scully set up the tree while Mulder hung stockings and garland. Both quietly placed ornaments until Scully came across the one her mother had made him. With a smile, “I knew she made you one, too! She didn’t answer me when I asked but she had that ‘I’ve got a secret’ look on her face.”

“What color is yours?”

“Red, white lettering.”

He scooted just a little closer, brushing shoulders with her, “you should have bought yours with you. We could have added it to the collection.”

“Maybe next time I come by.”

Mulder wanted to smile at the prospect of her coming by again but he couldn’t look forward to it, knowing disappointment would set him on edge so he chose to continue staring at the tree, feeling her warmth, her energy, the life he had once and would give almost anything to have again.

Scully felt it, too and nudging his hand with hers, no commitment, no expectation, just touch, “you got any hot chocolate around this place?”

“I think I got some on my last shopping trip. Flab likes to drink it with me on our Saturday dates.”

Following him to the kitchen, “you have a standing date with your cat on Saturday nights?”

He knew she wasn’t judging so he told her over his shoulder as he rummaged through cupboards, “yeah. We have tuna salad, carrots, biscuits and hot chocolate or steak, baked potatoes, spinach and hot chocolate. We eat on the couch and she gets to share and then she gets to lick my mug when I’m finished. After that comes brushing and then she falls asleep while I watch bad sci-fi.”

Deciding the past wasn’t as forbidden as she thought it was when she knocked on the door, “that sounds surprisingly like our Saturday date nights used to be as well.”

With a glance at her hair, “speaking of brushing, what happened to your hair? I mean, it looks good but it’s not the right color suddenly. I noticed earlier but forgot to ask.”

Self-consciously touching the strands against her shoulder, “yeah, so I was at the hospital and Methylene blue sprayed on me and dyed my hair a lovely shade of splatter-pattern Cobalt and it wouldn’t wash out so I had to bleach my whole head and then the woman who went to dye it back to my regular color did something and it came out like this. It’s paler than it used to be but I’m getting used to it.”

Reaching out to feel it, “are we mentioning the straw feeling?”

With a smile, she batted his hand away, “we are not and I was also informed that if I try to color it again in the next six months, it’ll all fall out of my head so I’m living uncomfortably with it until further notice.”

“Good to know.” As he pulled the hot mugs from the microwave, he handed her one, “I’m liking it, if that’s any consolation but I gotta say, I would have liked to have seen you as a blonde again. It’s been awhile.”

“Well, next time someone tries to turn me into a Smurf and I have to bleach, I’ll be sure to call you.”

Grinning, he nodded, “I’ll be waiting.”

Mugs in hand, they headed back to the couch, where they proceeded to sit until well after 3am, when half-asleep on his end of the couch, he suddenly remembered, “shit! Aren’t you due back at Maggie’s in two hours?”

Scully, more than half asleep on the other end, grunted quietly, “then I’ve got an hour and a half to sleep. Be quiet.”

Flab, happy to snuggle on the lap of the strange lady invading her home for the evening, stretched, kneaded, wiggled and purred her way to sleep, notifying the stranger, in no uncertain terms, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“I don’t think the cat was going to let you leave anyways.”

“My kind of cat. G’night, Mulder.”

“G’night, Scully.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

Baffled as to how she got out of the house without disturbing him, he awoke to Flab on his lap, the Christmas tree lights still on and a new ornament on the tree.

Well, new to the tree but matching the one Maggie gave him the previous year. She’d smuggled hers over, sneaking it onto the tree before disappearing to her Christmas morning chaos. Picking up his puddle of cat, he held her, showing her Scully’s ornament, “that’s your mom’s. She’ll be back someday I hope but for now, I think we should decide to have truly enjoyed last night then move on to breakfast. What do you say … eggs? Pancakes? Tuna?”

The cat simply purred, licking his hand for a moment before going back to sleep.

He kissed the top of her head, “Merry Christmas, animal.”

“Mmmrrrorr.”

#msr #saturday nights dates with the cat #dropping by #christmas series #my writing #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic

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ghostbustermelanieking · 7 years

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x files fic: under the stars (minimal fate required)

or: ways mulder and scully could’ve been happy

for @leiascully‘s challenge: list sort of

01.

The X-Files are never shut down and Scully is never abducted.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm of partnership: an incredible solve rate, an easy repertoire. (He never convinces her to believe in aliens, and she never convinces him not to.) They start spending time together outside of work - getting drinks, watching movies over long-abandoned paperwork. It’s at least two and a half years before Mulder realizes that she is his best friend. (Even over the Gunmen, he thinks about telling her, but how would that go down? They don’t say things like that to each other. She’s only ever called him Fox once, and he’s called her Dana a total of six times before she asked him to stop; what kind of friends are they?)

She almost dies - goes to pick up a witness while Mulder stays at the tiny local police station, doesn’t come back; he finds her five hours later in a basement with a gun pressed to her head from behind, has to negotiate for twenty tense minutes before the witness shoves her to the floor and tries to run out the back door, where the local police are waiting. His heart rate doesn’t slow down the entire time. He helps her off of the floor and pulls her into a fierce embrace. We never do anything like this, he thinks. She might smooth his hair, take his pulse, rub his neck, check for head injuries if he’s hurt, but they never full-on embrace each other. Her arms are pinned between them; she wasn’t expecting the hug. You must really like me, she teases, poking him in the arm. If you’re this relieved.

Nah, he says. I hugged Frohike like this that one time we brought him on a case and he almost took a bullet; remember?

Glad I measure up to Frohike’s standards, she says seriously. Like she really thinks he likes him better than her. He hugs her tighter because his heart is still pounding too hard and she could’ve died, really; his best friend dead in a crummy little basement because he didn’t go with her to pick up a witness or he didn’t negotiate right.

They keep meeting with Skinner, and he keeps looking at them disapprovingly over his glasses, and Scully keeps going head-to-head with people for him. Mulder, I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anyone but you, she’d said, and goddamn it, she was right. She’s vicious in a subtle, professional way that makes people want to look to her for authority, especially him (he’d make her the supervising agent if she’d take any good cases, or if it wouldn’t ruin her career).

You should ask for reassignment, he says one day over beers, studying the stem of his bottle seriously.

She flicks her bottle cap towards the trash can, and it lands perfectly. Tired of me, Mulder? That might be hurt in her voice, because she isn’t looking at him.

No. Just worried you’re never going to be able to go anywhere else. That you’ll be stuck with me forever.

Her ocean-colored eyes meet his. What if I don’t want to go anywhere? she says, taking a sip from her bottle.

He watches the motion of her throat as she swallows the beer. He smiles. So, I’ve finally convinced you of my paranormal beliefs, Scully?

She smirks. I didn’t say that.

(When she grabs his hand later, it’s not as much of a surprise as he thought it’d be. It feels right.)

02.

Melissa doesn’t die and neither does Scully. She and Melissa arrive at the same time, and as she’s unlocking the door, she hears the rustle of people inside, the cocking of a gun. She tells Melissa to keep a low profile and runs to Mulder’s apartment where she finds Skinner, and then Mulder. Skinner refuses to give them the tape and they run.

Skinner tries to negotiate the tape for their reinstatement, but it doesn’t work. Skinner meets them the next day, covertly, wearing a hood in the park. (He looks ridiculous, like he’s trying to be hip with the kids, Mulder whispers in her ear, and she has to jam her hand in her mouth because it’s definitely not a convenient time for laughing.) There are warrants out for the both of your arrests, he says. They have proof, they say, that Mulder killed his father and you’re hiding him, Scully.

Mulder pales. It’s not true, Scully says firmly, standing her ground. The evidence must’ve been manipulated. They’re trying to take us down.

Skinner looks uncomfortable, but he says he believes them. I’m going to work on clearing your names, he says (awkwardly, because, you know, he’d pointed a gun at her the other day). In the meantime, you need to disappear.

(I’m sorry, Scully, Mulder says in the car. They’re both grimy, in need of sleep and bathing. I didn’t mean for this to happen to both of us.

She tells him it’s okay; she’s sacrificed so much for this, the truth, that this feels almost mundane in comparison. Her family will be worried, but at least she isn’t dying. She thinks maybe she will resent him later, but for now, she’s just relieved he’s alive and okay.)

(She hugs Mulder for the first time since his return from the dead when they stop for gas; says I’m sorry instead of I missed you into his smelly shirt. She’d thought maybe he’d killed his father but knows it isn’t true, knows how much he must be hurting.)

The Gunmen get them fake IDs and Scully cuts and dyes her hair a dark brown in their crappy apartment bathroom. She asks them to get a burner phone for Melissa, something she can use to check in and reassure her family that she’s okay. She and Mulder leave with the burner’s twin and hastily packed suitcases with cheap Walmart clothes in a car paid for with cash from Mulder’s father’s will. What’s our identity? Married couple? Mulder asks casually from the driver’s seat, raising an eyebrow at her. (He’s been joking around since they left that gas station, after embracing for what seemed like forever, and she recognizes it as a coping mechanism. That night, when they’d stopped, she’d put her hand on his knee and asked him to talk to her - I can see you’re hurting, Mulder, please, this isn’t healthy. He got mad at first, stalked off into the darkness. He returned upset, later, cried and let Scully hold him, buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. He was a bastard, but he was my father, he’d whispered hollowly against his skin. They don’t discuss it the next morning, but they can tell a barrier’s broke. Since then, she’s let him joke, pretend that nothing is wrong.)

We don’t have any rings, she says, fingering the ends of her dark, shorn hair. (It hasn’t been this short since 1993, at least, and never this dark. She yanks it back in one of the half-ponytail things she used to wear all the time then, and Mulder smiles familiarly and tugs at it. She’s glad he’s not dead.)

They get a ratty little hotel room with one bed (married couple, remember, Mulder says, waggling his eyebrows). Scully calls her sister and pulls at the comforter with her overlong fingernails while Mulder showers. She smiles as soon as she hears her voice.

You’ve gotten yourself into a pickle here, Day, Melissa says, and it sounds like she’s teasing, but it comes out strained because she’s worried about her sister. I blame your partner.

Oh, me too, Scully says loudly as he comes out of the bathroom. He’s impossible to live with, really. She giggles - giggles, my god, has she gone off in the deep end - when Mulder lobs a balled-up t-shirt at her head.

Seriously, Dana, Melissa says. Are you okay?

Yeah, Scully says. Mulder flops on the bed beside her, mattress rippling under his weight. It’s beyond bizarre to be actually sharing a space with him. Are you? she continues, tugging a thread loose from the duvet. I’m worried about you and Mom. (Because maybe the people who were going to kill her, and probably Melissa when they saw her, won’t hesitate to go after her family. Leverage. Punishment. She thinks about convincing Skinner to put them in witness protection.)

We are, Missy says. They… question us about you a lot. About Fox. About where you are.

Scully bites her lip. Skinner swore he was doing his best the last time they talked, but she hates putting her family through this. It’ll all be over soon, she promises. I’ll be home someday. I love you.

Love you, too, Day. Melissa sounds less relaxed than Scully’s ever heard her in her entire life when she hangs up.

You okay? Mulder says.

Yeah, she says. She’d say what she’s thinking - that she’s just happy Missy’s alive, that she heard what she did before opening the door - but it seems selfish, considering what’s happened to Mulder’s father, considering Samantha. She ignores the thought. They’ve been ignoring a lot, here; sleeping in seedy hotels is an easy escape, they can joke and flip channels on the TV and pretend nothing from the outside world exists. It’s the most mundane existence she and Mulder have ever shared, and it’s somewhat blissful: Mulder is fun, almost, when he’s not absorbed into the monster of the moment, and this is the first time they’ve ever hung out, at least without work as a pretense/distraction. (Even if hanging out involves sharing a bed to keep their identity in place.)

Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the floor? he asks, almost nervously, as she stretches out beside him.

No, you just came back from the dead, she says. It’d be cruel. She flips off the light.

(On the first night, she ends up curled against his back, face pressed in the space between his shoulder blades. On the third night, he rolls back against her, burying his face in her chemical-y hair, soft from the hotel conditioner. By the seventh, she’s unintentionally grabbing him in their sleep and he rolls closer instead of away. They don’t talk about it.)

On their fourth week as fugitives, they’re playing Blackjack on the cracked concrete under the street lights, feet dangling in the five foot end of the pool. Mulder’s been quiet, chewing on a straw in his mouth. Hit me, Scully says.

He starts, sets a card down absently. She resists the urge to swear: 24. Are you happy, Scully? he says softly.

She’s startled by the question, tempted to say as happy as anyone can be in this situation. I’m thinking of it as an overdue vacation, she says instead.

He nods, straw bobbing in his mouth. I just feel bad about tearing you away from your life, he says. You didn’t ask for this.

Scully deals them a new hand, trying to meet his eyes. I didn’t ask for it, but they involved me when they abducted me and tried to kill me and my sister, she says. And hurt you, poisoned you, killed your father, she adds silently. And besides that, even if I wasn’t dismissed from the FBI, I would’ve come with you anyway.

He looks up at her in shock. She smiles shyly, setting the cards down between them, pokes his foot with hers in the pool.

I guess it’s just for the X-Files credential, he says finally, waggling his eyebrows. A real life man come down from the dead.

Shut up, she says, splashing him. They play cards until a family comes out with grouchy kids wrapped in striped beach towels; they never want to risk being recognized.

(Eventually, Skinner gets their names cleared and they come home and get their old jobs back and Scully hugs her sister gratefully. But for now, they play cards under the stars. It’s almost good, almost perfect.)

03.

Hey, Scully, he says, watching the curve of her neck as she puts files away.

Yes, Mulder? she replies, somewhere between amused and irritated.

He scuffs his shoes on the floor. Would you, uh. Like to get dinner with me? Jesus Christ, he hasn’t been this nervous asking anyone out since college. Of course, he’s only dated Diana since college, and that didn’t go over very well.

Sure, she says, not looking up. I get to pick this time, though. And can I put a veto on discussing certain cases? It’s Friday night, Mulder.

I know, he says. I, um, actually. Wanted to know if you wanted to go out. With me.

She looks up at him with surprise, although not rejection or disgust. His stomach flips like a pancake. On a date, he supplies, and immediately wants to slap himself.

You’re asking me on a date, Scully says. Matter-of-fact. Clarifying tone.

Um… He scuffs his shoe again, looking at the floor. They need to sweep in here; the janitor only comes down by request and he has a vendetta against Mulder for his discarded sunflower seeds. Yes? he says questioningly, and waits for the end of their friendship.

Okay.

He looks up; she’s replacing files in the cabinet calmly again, as if he’s asked her to pick up a candy bar at the store or something. Okay? he repeats.

She looks up, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips. Okay, she echoes, warmly.

The relief is overwhelming. Okay, he says another time, smiling. Okay.

04.

They kiss in Mulder’s hallway, and Scully doesn’t go to Utah.

(I wish you wouldn’t quit, Mulder whispers against her scalp that morning in bed, and Scully tugs his t-shirt and says, I’ll keep fighting. This isn’t over.)

Mulder tries to get the X-Files back, tries to convince Skinner to let Scully come back, but it nevers works. Scully becomes a doctor, takes up permanent residence in his bedroom. (She goes to Nevada with him, on a dare, and when they come back, there’s a waterbed, and she agrees to stay over at his house; every once in a while, she says sternly over his pillows. [It’s a lot more than every once in a while, and he never lets her forget it.]) He steals X-Files from their old office under Spender and Fowley’s noses and they argue about them over takeout.

(I miss it, sometimes, being at the FBI, she tells the space between his shoulder blades one morning, hugging him tightly from behind. She’s become clingier since, doesn’t quite know why. She didn’t know she could love someone this catastrophically.

I miss you being there with me, he tells her, clasping her hands and pulling them up to rest against his chest.)

After they’re dragged to quarantine and the Syndicate dies off in a fire, Spender doesn’t recommend Mulder be reassigned to the X-Files. Quit, Scully says that night. The FBI hasn’t done anything for you but ruin you. They don’t deserve you, and you don’t need them.

I don’t want to quit, he says. I don’t want this to be over.

We aren’t over, she tells him. We’re both still here. We don’t need the FBI. We can still find the truth.

It’ll be dangerous, he says into her mouth. (She’s pressed him up against the cabinets, kissing him so hard he thinks he’ll melt.) Without their credentials, there’ll be a lot more roadblocks; and no one cares if two ex-FBI agents die in a random accident. They’ll be vulnerable.

She smiles. When has that ever stopped us before?

05.

The IVF works.

Mulder doesn’t expect it to, because honestly, how the hell could anything happen in their lives that’s as perfect as this? They are the type of people who don’t get to kiss, whose sisters stay lost and whose daughters die before they get the chance to know them. He expects this to end in tragedy, expects it to end with Scully crying into his shirt and him unable to comfort her - although he doesn’t want it to. He wants to make her happy, to be able to do one damn thing right. He waits for her on her couch. The Christmas tree she’s set up in the corner sits dormant and dark; he thinks about plugging the lights in.

Scully comes home, and his stomach twists when he turns over and sees the smile on her face. She looks happier than he’s seen her in months; the last time she smiled like that is when he opened his eyes in the hospital at some point after she woke him up from Spender’s botched brain surgery; she’d smiled like he was the entire world, squeezed his fingers. Scully? he whispers in wonder, shifting on the couch to sit up.

She smiles, hand ghosting her abdomen. It worked.

He gapes at her, mouth hanging open a little. Scully, that’s fantastic! He moves towards her, expecting a hug or a chaste kiss to the forehead, but she kisses him first, hands cupping the side of his face.

She pulls away a minute later, red already spreading across her face. I’m sorry, Mulder, she whispers, I don’t want to obligate you to anything, you didn’t agree to…

He kisses her again before she finishes; he’s wanted to do that for years now. Scully, I want this, he says. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t.

She smiles again, eyes welling up, and buries her head in his shoulder. He rubs circles on the small of her back, trying to remember how he ever got here. This is all I’ve ever wanted, she says into his sweater, so quietly he almost can’t hear her. This is it.

06.

Mulder doesn’t go to Oregon, or he doesn’t leave three days after their son is born, or he comes home to find them waiting for him and he and Scully cry in the threshold of her apartment, or Scully never gives William up and the three of them disappear into the sunset after breaking Mulder out of prison. They get to raise their son, watch him grow up to morph into a child who inherited their looks and intelligence and Scully’s snark and Mulder’s curiosity. In some cases, there is another baby, and in other cases, there’s only ever William, their miracle baby. But in every case, there is the three of them and they are happy. A family.

07.

The IVF doesn’t work, and Scully never gets pregnant. (She gets uncontrollably sad about it, sometimes, like when Bill and Tara call to announce that their second child is on the way, or she talks to an old friend who has to go in the other room because her kids won’t let her talk on the phone in peace, or - one time - because they see a baby in a dingy small-town diner, and she gets teary and tries to hide it with scratchy napkins. Mulder tries to comfort her every time, although he’s worried he’s just making it worse - it’s his fault she can never have a baby. He has his moments of teary-eyed weakness himself.)

They go to Oregon, but Scully isn’t sick and Mulder isn’t abducted. Two months later, the X-Files are shut down. Too much money towards a dead-end project, the man who comes to tell them says. Scully surprises them both by being the one to retort sharply, standing up and glaring at him like he is the scum of the earth and sliding in a sir at the end to barely pass it off as respectable. Scully, it’s okay, Mulder says quietly when they’re alone in not-their-office.

Mulder, this is your life’s work, she says, still breathing a little hard and glaring at the door.

He reaches down and takes her hand. It’s okay.

They’re reassigned to the VCS - Skinner fights hard for them to stay partners. (They go to his office to thank him, and he looks at them critically, says, As long as you don’t let… whatever this is… interfere with your work, then we won’t have a problem, agents with a spastic motioning towards them and red spreading across his cheeks. Which leads to a ten-minute bickering about who is the reason Skinner knows.)

They stay at the FBI for two more years. Things are different, darker, in the VCS, but Scully still does autopsies and they still have to travel out of town sometimes (it’s almost more exciting to be in a hotel with ten other agents; it makes sneaking into one of their hotel rooms more risky, and Scully seems to like it) and they still are a singular unit no matter how many people are in the room.

(Things come to a head when they are both taken by a serial killer, found bound and bruised and traumatized together just before the man starts to kill them.)

Let’s quit, Mulder says in the hospital that night, tracing her fingers with his. Their hands haven’t stopped shaking since they were rescued; they’ve held hands since their wrists were untied, in front of the entire task force, and don’t care.

Mulder, she says, astonished.

The X-Files are gone. And besides that, we can’t keep doing this, Scully. We can’t keep almost losing each other. He kisses the back of her hand, a small, warm patch on her chilled skin. Remember what I told you in Oregon? There has to be an end. I’m ready.

(Skinner looks almost sad when they hand in their resignations. He shakes their hands and tells them their services will be missed and not to be strangers. I’m surprised he didn’t hug us, Mulder says in the elevator. Skinman’s gone soft.

Let’s invite him to our wedding, Scully says slyly, and can’t stop giggling at the expression on Mulder’s face.)

They buy an apartment together, one that doesn’t have bloodstains or monsters in the corner, where no one has ever died. They get jobs teaching at Quantico - Scully teaching pathology and Mulder teaching profiling, at first, but eventually an additional class on paranormal investigations that takes a large amount of fighting to receive. He writes books at night, putting his insomnia to good use. (Thank God you have something to do at night, Scully says, or I would never get any sleep.) The X-Files are eventually reopened by an eager agent, Monica Reyes, and a more reluctant agent, John Doggett, who have some dark past no one asks them about and no one wants to - they’re good friends, good partners. Agent Reyes insists on Mulder consulting, which leads to them being semi-regular appearances at the apartment (there are usually arguments where Reyes and Mulder gang up on Doggett; Scully feels sorry for the guy, has to intervene at least 70% of the time; she grows an affection for these outcast agents that remind her of she and Mulder when they were young).

Let’s have a baby, Mulder says one lazy summer night almost three years after they’ve left the FBI. They have a habit of taking blankets up to the roof of their building and watching the stars (or looking for UFOS, as Mulder calls it), and Scully’s curled beside him, nearly asleep.

We can’t. The IVF process didn’t work, she says sleepily, sadly into his shoulder.

So we try again. I have more money than I did when we tried the first time - my mom left the entire estate to me. We can afford it. His palm nearly covers her forehead, brushing hair away from her face. Or we could adopt. Save someone. We could get Skinner to write a letter of recommendation.

I love you, she says. At his sharp breath of pleasant surprise, she realizes she’s never said it. She rises up on her knees and kisses him under the stars.

08.

Mulder doesn’t join the FBI because Samantha is never abducted. Dana joins the FBI, stays at Quantico. They meet by accident - she’s guest-lecturing at the university where he teaches. There’s a teacher’s lounge and a friend of hers tugs her towards him, saying she needs to try the coffee loud enough for everyone to hear, but whispering something about how she should go talk to the psychology professor because he’s cute and exactly her type, she swears.

Her friend tugs her forward and she stumbles, almost crashing into him and the table at the same time. Sorry, she says sheepishly, reaching for a mug on the rack.

It’s fine, he says. Although the coffee isn’t nearly that good. He smiles; he has a nice smile. I’m Fox Mulder. He extends his hand.

She takes it. Dana Scully.

#technically its not a list but it kind of is? it started as a list i made in the shower this morning #xfwritingchallenge #xf fanfic #i wrote this

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gillywulf · 7 years

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you’re a problem but you’re mine (you’re a winner even though you think you’re not)

The pet Hotel AU.

AO3

Summary: Jason needs a job and PetStay needed him.

Pt. 2 (warning: this does include a dog bite)

It turned out that prepping for mealtimes wasn’t as hard as Jason initially thought. Like Billy, he’d needed to develop a system before it made sense, but eventually, once he’d started separating the labels stating the dog’s name and food into dry and wet, the process went far quicker. He was midway through preparing dinners when the door to the kitchen slammed open and a middle aged man with neat, short hair. He stopped short at the sight of Jason.

“Who are you?” Blunt. Jason held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Jason. I’m new. Ish” The man takes his hand and it’s surprisingly gentle.

“Tommy Oliver. I’m the trainer here and my kid works the night shift” Jason remembered the walkie chart with Tommy Junior written next to green and nodded.

“Oh yeah, I haven’t met him yet” An odd look crossed Tommy’s face.

“Uh, Tommy Junior is-”

“Tommy! What up, dude?” Zack’s boisterous voice filled the small kitchen, shoving whatever the trainer was going to say out of their minds. “I haven’t seen you in like, two weeks” He set down the stack of used dog bowls and spread his arms, offering a warm hug. Tommy was clearly uncomfortable.

“Good to see you, Zack. Oh, whoops, I have class in two minutes. Nice to meet you, Jason” He slipped from the room with a quick wave.

“I can not figure out why he doesn’t like me” Zack mumbled, perching his hands on his hips. The whole image - the confused face, the posture, the situation he’d just witnessed - as truly a masterpiece. Jason laughed.

“Never change, man”

“Have a nice day” Kim beamed at the pet parent until they rounded the corner out of eye sight. She dropped her falsely peppy face instantly and rolled her eyes to Jason. “‘I ordered a nail trim and a suite!’ They did neither so he got neither. I literally hate people. They over feed and under care and get upset at me when they’re the one who messed up” she huffed, turning back to the computer and tapping in last minute pay information. He laughed.

“I mean you’re not wrong, but that’s like all retail”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still hate them”

“That’s fair,” he shrugged, “you get off in five minutes too, right? Do you want to go to Krispy Kreme with me and my little sister? My mom’s dropping her off in a bit” Kim twisted the watch on her wrist and shrugged.

“Sure. I bet she’s funnier than you”

“Says the girl who literally can’t make a joke that gets anyone laughing” She scowled and crossed her arms.

“I will have you know, I am very funny”

“No, I think Pearl will definitely be funnier than both of us”

The dog squirmed and wriggled with all its might, crying all the while. The high pitched squeals were definitely starting to hurt Jason’s ears. None of it was helping the nail grind get done any faster. He stepped back with a resigned sigh and punched the talk button on his walkie.

“Red could use some help with a nail grind” The dog leveled him with her best pleading stare. Maybe if she looked sad enough, he would stop.

“Blue to the rescue!” Billy’s voice announced over the radio. Less than a minute later, the boy strolled in and took a firm hold of the dog’s body. Thankfully, it was enough for Jason to finally get a full paw done with the promise of stillness for the rest. He quickly moved on to the next paw. If she wasn’t going to stay this calm long, he needed to be fast.

“Billy, you are an absolute lifesaver” Why did dogs need to much hair over their feet? It just made everything harder and slightly more dangerous. He could get it stuck in the grinder and pull out a chunk if he wasn’t careful.

“My pleasure, Jason. Hey, do you think I’m weird?” Jason stilled, stopped the grinder, and straightened to look Billy dead in the eye.

“I’ve seen Zack eat a burger off the ground even though the bun fell off”

“No, I know- I mean, yeah, that’s kinda weird, but I mean like, you know-”

“Did something happen?” he asked. Concern clawed its way up his throat and the dog sat happily on the table between them, clearly believing she was out of the woods. Billy looked hesitant for a moment.

“I brought Summer up to her mom and I was really excited because we don’t really get all that many Corgis, so I was telling her neat history about their breed, like ‘corgi’ means ‘dwarf-dog’ in Welsh where they originated from and because they are herders, they are the same type of dog that huskies are, which no one really expects because they are so different. And she looked at me like a lot of people do when I start to talk a lot, like there must be something definitely wrong with me” His hold on the dog slackened, his hands instead stroking along her side.

“Billy,” Jason wanted so badly to lay his hand on Billy’s shoulder, to really draw his attention, but he knew his friend didn’t like to be touched, so he reigned himself in, “you are the kindest, smartest, most caring person I know. Hands down. Having a diagnosis doesn’t make you weird, it’s another part of who you are, just like your love of country music” Billy smiled at that and Jason accepted the small victory. “One rude lady isn’t going to change any of the awesome things about you. Don’t ever forget that” Billy’s eyes shone and it looked like he might even cry. Jason wouldn’t be able to stop himself from following if that was going to happen.

“Thank you, Jason”

“Honestly any time. Thank you for coming to me. Now let’s get her finished up, okay?”

It was almost funny watching Trini try and hold back such a fat chocolate lab. Tucker was definitely not built to easy walking.

“Fuck you, dick! Stop pulling!” She grit her teeth and dug in her heels, but it was no use. Tucker was headed to camp at his own pace. “You wanna help at all?” she shot back to Jason behind her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I have to keep holding Gus to make sure he doesn’t kill anyone. You know, because he’s so lethal” Gus was in fact a toy fox terrier, shaking constantly and peeing himself in fear as Jason spoke.

“Dick, Tucker, stop!” Kim chose that moment to step into the hallway from the relief room. She calmly took in the scene; Trini being pulled by an overexcited fat dog and Jason, with his tiny shaking mess. With a roll over her eyes, she reached out and jerked Tucker’s lead in a direction he wasn’t expecting, surprising him enough to get him to stop.

“Tuck, walk nice” she demanded. “If he keeps doing it, just stop and wait for him to settle. He needs to learn not to pull” Her eyes bore into Trini’s and even from his not great angle, Jason could see how struck Trini was. The girl’s eyes didn’t move away once Kim headed to the grooming room.

“You good?” he asked, almost concerned.

“Fuck, she’s so hot”

When things were busy, things were busy. Jason barely had a moment to breathe between shuffling dogs into their rooms, cleaning, juggling dogs in camp, and a whole host of other duties.

“Red, I need Maximus when you have a moment; he’s going home” Kim’s steady voice broke through his dinner prep concentration. He sighed. He was never going to get anything done.

“Sure, pink” He left the kitchen and speed walked to where he knew Maximus the giant yellow lab would be waiting by the kennel door, his tongue lolling out and his tail wagging non-stop. Sure enough, that was the sight that greeted him. The dog was clearly excited to go home, if the way he pulled at his leash was any indicator. His owners beamed and hugged him while obliviously clogging up the reception area. But of course, there was no time to stand there and wonder whether or not it was just a little too much, another family stood waiting to say goodbye to their German Shepard.

“Jason, could you please take Grant to 211? Thank you” Kim was already staring back to paperwork, highlighting on a chart the days certain services were being received.

“Sure,” he smiled politely to the family and slipped a lead over Grant’s head, his other hand extended for the leash, “I can take him, have a great day” Grant followed him easily to the door and through it, all the way to the door of kennel 211 where he promptly planted his feet and refused to move. “Bud, c’mon, I need to finish the lunches”

The pleading must have worked, because the dog gave in just enough to allow himself to be guided inside the kennel. Jason knelt to pull his lead and unclip the collar. Grant seized the moment. He shot out from under Jason’s knee in a desperate bid to escape. Jason did nothing but act on instinct. His hand shot out just as fast and just managed to grab a hold of Grant’s paper ID band.

The ID band around his neck.

While all Jason could think was to beg higher powers to keep the ID band in tact long enough for his to slip the lead back over his head, Grant wanted nothing more than to be away from him. So he rolled onto his back and turned his head to take Jason’s hand into his mouth and bit. Hard.

For a long second Jason didn’t even register what had happened. He was so focused on holding on that his brain excused the bite like that from a puppy, painful, but only for a second and completely harmless. That is, until his brain caught up with the sheer pain and the sight of blood. Needless to say, he let go.

Grant took off out of Jason’s view. His hand was mangled, that was the only word he could associate with the way it looked. He must not have registered Grant’s frenzied shaking like a chew toy he was on the other end of. He tried to make a fist and failed.

“Hey Jason, what’s taking- holy shit” Trini wasted no time. She marched over to him and took the hand in hers. She whipped the grey beanie from her head and wrapped it as tightly around it as possible. “Keep this tight, you need pressure,” she tugged on her walkie, “birdhouse” she said simply before pushing him off towards the kitchen. “Go wait there. I’ll get him in the kennel and we’ll take you to the hospital”

Jason blinked in awe at her take-charge attitude, but managed a weak nod. She was gone in the blink of an eye, her tiny voice gruff and furious as she called out Grant’s name. He definitely heard an aggressive ‘ass-fucker’ as he headed towards the kitchen.

Billy was already there, gauze and light antiseptics at the ready. He was so careful and gentle and Jason was eternally grateful, he just wished his head was clearer to express that appreciation. He’d do that later when he wasn’t bleeding profusely. Kim burst into the room just as the cleaning stage finished. She did a quick examination before motioning to Billy to continue.

“We’ve already called Grant’s parents. They were only in the parking lot and he’ll be refused for the rest of the month. Okay, wow that’s a lot of blood. Trini’s going to drive you to the hospital because Billy can’t drive, Zack’s stuck in camp, and I have to man the front desk. She’s usually a good driver, I promise” Before Jason had long enough to process the statement and ask what exactly she meant by that, Trini swept into the room and grabbed his bicep.

“C’mon, homeboy, let’s get you to the hospital before you bleed out” The next few minutes are a whirlwind of racing out the store in an attempt not to alarm customers and to reach the hospital as quickly as possible. Kim’s ‘usually’ begins to make sense on the highway. Trini darts her car into small spaces and slams on the brakes and accelerator so often that Jason began to worry a heart attack might kill him before his hand.

There was something incredibly calming about her hard demeanor cracking only enough for her worry to trickle out in barely-there ways, like the way her eyes constantly darted over to him, or the way her hands tightened over and over on the steering wheel. Maybe she did like him. He’d like to be friends.

Jason wordlessly held out the tray of steaming coffee cups while trying very hard not to chug from his own. With a small sigh of relief, Kim took the tray and then the cup marked with her name.

“Zack’s running late” she mumbled after a long sip. Jason laughed.

“Some day, someone who’s not us will realize and he’ll get fired”

“Let’s hope not. We’re still super understaffed”

“Good thing I’m here, right?” The two whirled around to find a girl with closely cropped hair and a grin too bright for the early hour standing on the other side of the front desk, already in the customary PetStay navy polo. Jason and Kim shot one another confused glances.

“Uh, I’m sorry to ask, but who are you? I only have one person for training on my list today” Kim thumbed through her schedule post-it notes, looking for any name she didn’t recognize.

“That’s probably me. I’m Tj” she beamed. Jason couldn’t help but notice the startlingly bright green eyes she had. Kim didn’t stop frowning.

“I’m sorry, I don’t see a ‘Tj’ anywhere” Tj seemed to sag at that.

“Is there a ‘Tommy Jr’?” Her entire body deflated with the question with a resignation so bone deep that Jason thought she might just collapse under the weight of it. Kim blinked dumbly.

“Yes”

“That’s me”

“No it isn’t” Tj rolled her eyes and dug around in her back pocket for a moment until she produced a drivers’ license, complete with her picture and ‘Tommy Oliver Jr.’ printed beside it.

“My dad’s the trainer here. I’m the overnighter. I’m transferring to day shift. I’m Green” Even though the evidence was nothing short of indisputable, Kim’s face couldn’t free itself of the bafflement she felt. Thankfully, Zack chose that moment to sprint up to the counter and diffuse the tension.

“Guys, I’m sorry I’m late-”

“Zack, this is Tj, bring her into Bigs with you” He swiveled on his heel and froze. Jason watched as his face got progressively redder with each passing second.

“Hi- er, hello. Welcome to PetStay. I will be your trainer, or uh, senior, today,” he stopped his rambling, “let’s load up” He shuffled awkwardly to the back with Tj on his heels. Jason took a slow sip from his coffee and leaned against the counter.

“He likes her”

“Two damn seconds in”

“He also forgot his coffee”

On days where there were only enough dogs for one camp, everyone seemed to mill around aimlessly, trying to find something, anything to do. Jason knew that Zack was having plenty of fun in camp, but Trini, Kim, and Billy would all be restless, not to mention himself.

Jason decided to do a little tidying in the grooming room, picking up and throwing out old ID bands, sweeping up shed fur, and bringing dirty, wet towels to the laundry room. Maybe he’d even throw a load or two in. Between beds, blankets, and towels, there was almost definitely enough.

He hefted the pile of wet towels into his arms (while attempting to keep them from soiling his shirt) and march near-blind to the laundry room. Of course, it could never be that simple. He couldn’t just walk in an do his job.

Instead, he was greeted by Kim pressing the full length of her body into Trini, hands wandering and lips moving as one, together.

Of course he had to walk in on them making out. He was happy for them, naturally, but he didn’t need to keep seeing the PDA. Especially when Trini’s hand was definitely undoing the unbutton on the front of Kim’s pants.

Jason turned on his heel and dumped the towels into a nearby cart. He had to stop himself from sprinting to the kitchen. When he walked in, Billy looked up from the dishes and smiled, perpetually happy to see him. The long purple rubber gloves were pulled up to his elbows to keep his hands from feeling all of the left-over food residue.

“So,” Jason began, leaning against the sink, “don’t go into the laundry room, okay?” Billy’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Why?”

“Kim and Trini are...you know” He gestured vaguely in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to say it.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking” Jason sighed and scrubbed his face, maybe it would dislodge the discomfort.

“Just trust me, you don’t want to go in there for a while. Maybe an hour, just to be safe” Billy’s confusion and suspicion didn’t disappear.

“I trust you”

“Thank you, Billy” The two of them spent the next fifty minutes filling the time, talking about the dogs, the cats, the store, and their co-workers. It was pleasant when Jason’s mind didn’t wander to why they were doing that and not something else.

Kim and Trini stumbled into the room, looking far too disheveled and satisfied. Their grins were too wide and their limbs too loose. Jason crossed the room and laid a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Well,” he really meant the excited smile he gave them, “congratulations guys, but not here, please. I beg you”

District management almost never made in store appearances. Those were reserved for big changes, good news, or bad news. As the entire store was crowded together after hours, Jason couldn’t help but fear the latter. Alvie clapped his hands together for the crowd’s attention.

“Excuse me, thank you everyone for showing up tonight” Zack nudged Jason in the ribs.

“Wasn’t this mandatory?” They sniggered together as Alvie plowed on.

“I want to take the time to thank each and every one of you for your time and dedication into this store” He took a long pause to try and make eye contact with as many people as possible. “However, I regret to tell you all that our store will be closing at the end of the month”

A chorus of gasps, sighs, and groans filled the air and Jason, between fish tanks and dog harnesses, felt his heart break. Alvie continued to talk about what the chain will do for them as if it could measure up to what it would provide if it stayed open. The rest of the meeting went by in a daze. He barely took in more than three consecutive words.

The hotel staff lingered in the parking lot, no one quite sure what do do or say. And Jason had come to a conclusion that these people were his friends, no matter what happened next. He loved the big way Zack felt everything. He loved Billy’s never ending affection. He loved the quiet way Trini expressed her protectiveness. He loved the simplicity of Kim’s humor.

He loved them. Even when he was scooping poop.

“So this sucks” Trini mumbled once they were alone on the pavement. Kim, her arm around the smaller girl’s shoulders, hummed in agreement.

“What the hell are we going to do? I want to keep hanging out with you guys. Forget trying to get someone else to hire me” Zack ruffled his hair and Billy laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What if we all applied at the same place? There’s another PetStay a few miles away. If we don’t all get it, we apply somewhere else. I know it feels like it right now, but it isn’t the end, not by a lot, okay? We’re blue,” he gestured to Billy, “black,” then to Zack, “pink, yellow,” Kim and Trini stood a little straighter, “and red. Take us or leave us” His breathing was labored by the end, but his heart felt big and hopeful. Kim snorted and ducked her head.

“You’re such a nerd. Come on Mr. Leader. Let’s go to Krispy Kreme you guys. I could use some sugar” She threw her other arm over his shoulders, even though it was a bit of a stretch with his height. He shook his head but extended his own arm to Billy, who after a quick deliberation nodded and pulled Zack close.

“I’m the nerd. You play Pokemon Go every day”

“Holy fuck, really? What team are you?”

“Zack, you know it literally does not matter, right?”

“Actually, there have been studies about what the choice says about people, Trini”

“I didn’t know that, B. Tell us about it”

#power rangers #fanfiction #mine

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